The Dirt by Lori Culwell

Author:Lori Culwell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Booktrope Editions
Published: 2011-11-21T16:00:00+00:00

That afternoon, in the midst of packing to go back home, Megan and I venture down the hall to Sloane's room (previously known as The Forbidden Zone), and knock.

The door opens right away. “Come in!” Sloane says cheerfully. Clothes and makeup are strewn all over her room as usual, and magazines filled with Post-It Notes litter the floor.

“Luce!” says Sloane. “Sit! Do you want a soda?” She is keeping up the act and isn't even acknowledging the weird Megan ultimatum, so I'm pretty sure she's playing Megan's game while she plans an even-worse revenge move.

”Okay.” She pulls a Diet Coke out of the mini-fridge in the corner. “Megan?”

“I'm fine.”

She pulls up a red leather ottoman and sits facing us with a serious expression. “Well, I just want to talk to you guys about school. Megan, I thought you made a good point the other night about us all getting along.” She turns to me. “We have to take a proactive approach to introducing Megan to Palm Day, or she's going to be crucified.”

This is actually true, but I'm surprised to hear it coming from her. Usually she's the one doing the crucifying.

Megan leans back on the sofa. “Yeah, I figured I would just go to class and introduce myself,” she says casually. “Eventually people will settle down, right?”

Sloane crinkles her nose. “Um, no. You might have survived boarding school, but you know nothing about how the desert works.” She looks over at me. “It's basically a small town full of rich, bored people, Megan. They've been talking about us non-stop for nine years, and now you're back. You need to make the right impression, or you'll never get a moment's peace. Right, Lucy?”

I nod tentatively. She's right about this, though I don't think I've made the right impression myself, which is why I still have my Darlington dream.

“Okay, I guess.” Megan seems totally unconcerned with what impression she's going to make on our school.

“Sooo…” says Sloane. “As soon as we get back, I have someone coming by to take you through an informal orientation. But right now, we just need to talk about your look. This…Goth thing you have going is just not going to work for my group.”

“I'm not a Goth. I just like wearing black. It works fine.” Megan starts to get up, but Sloane leans closer. I wonder if Megan's going to punch her. That would actually be funny.

“Look,” Sloane says sweetly. “I just want you to have the easiest transition possible. The way for you to do that is to go in as part of my group. That way, no one can touch you.”

“Okay,” Megan says. “So—what do you do, give me a Barbie microchip or something?”

I snort Diet Coke into my nose, then spit it out onto the floor. Sloane looks over at me, sighs, and hands me a pink Kleenex before turning back to Megan.

“No, silly. We're just going to make you a little more user-friendly, so people will accept, and maybe even embrace you.

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