Populazzi

Chapter Twenty-Five



I'd planned to call Claudia at lunch, but I didn't get the chance. I finished my fourth period art class and was on my way to hit the vending machines and duck out to my car when a high, clear voice called out, "Cara!"

I heard the quick clip-clop of heels as Kristie jogged to catch up.

"I'm glad I saw you," she said, slipping her arm through mine. "You're sitting with us at lunch, right?"

"Is there room?" I asked.

"Of course! Right next to Eddie. Technically you're taking Eric's seat, but that's okay."

"Your boyfriend? Oh, Kristie, I don't want to—"

"It's fine. Before you got to The Heap, the guys were giving him a really hard time, so he doesn't want to sit with us anyway. Eric doesn't get it—the guys are protective that way. It's sweet. They say anyone worth my while will man up and deal until he's part of the group."

"Okay ... but if Eric wants his seat back tomorrow—"

"Then we'll all squeeze in. It's like an extra excuse to cuddle, right?"

"Sure." I giggled.

This was weird, because while I've been many things in my life—and many more during this school year—I have never been a giggler. There was something about Kristie. She was so completely sweet and girlie—it was infectious. I felt girlier and gigglier just being around her.

Kristie and I stayed arm-in-arm as we strode into the cafeteria. As we passed a Happy Hopeless table, I noticed Gabe Friedman's jealous scowl and Robert Schwarner's appraising nod. Then we passed the Theater Geeks, and I swore I heard jaws hitting the table. Even Archer looked surprised. I slipped him a quick smile so he could see I knew exactly how cool this was and totally appreciated it.

At the Populazzi table, Eddie was already deep in conversation with Brett and Marsh, but he gave me a smile as I slipped in next to him. Kristie was on my other side, with Trista, Ree-Ree, and Gemma rounding out what seemed to be the girls' half of the table. I wondered why Trista and Ree-Ree weren't sitting with their boyfriends, but the answer became clear as they and Gemma leaned in to get as close to me as possible.

"So tell us," Trista whispered. "What's Nate Wetherill like in bed?"

A hot flush crawled up my cheeks.

"Trista!" Kristie objected. "Eddie's right here!"

"Whatever." Trista waved her off. "He's not paying attention."

It was true; he wasn't. The guys were concerned with exactly how much butt the Philadelphia Eagles would kick in the upcoming Super Bowl. The team's appearance in the game was apparently only a slightly bigger deal than the Second Coming. Karl would have loved the conversation. To me it was gibberish.

"You look offended," Kristie said. "Are you offended?"

"She can't be offended," Gemma said. "You do the deed, you own the deed."

"My guess is he's highly sensual," Ree-Ree said. She looked like she was already imagining the specifics.

"Spill it, Cara," Trista said. "We want to hear everything."

"There isn't that much to tell," I said.

Gemma snorted. Trista just looked at me and sang, "'Of this one thing I am sure / Cara Leonard is a whore / Or at least that's how she acted in my bed...'"

I blushed harder. Somehow the song was less amusing in Trista's mouth than in Claudia's.

"He may have exaggerated a bit," I said.

"You didn't sleep with him?" Ree-Ree was obviously not pleased. Even Kristie looked a little disappointed.

I had to turn this around quickly, but I couldn't totally change my story or they'd know I was lying.

Then it hit me.

"I didn't sleep with him," I whispered, looking around, then leaning in, "because he couldn't."

Ree-Ree laughed. "For you he couldn't. I bet I'd get it up just fine."

"He's a pothead," Gemma told her. "Potheads can't always get it up."

"Exactly!" I cried. "And Nate's not just a pothead; he's the pothead." I launched into a vivid description of Nate's obsession with the stuff, including his bong-friend Purple Haze, who even had her own gender.

"He actually introduced it to you as his 'friend'?" Trista asked.

"Yes! I'm telling you his whole house was a freak scene..."

I started telling them about the place, and immediately I knew it was the right story. The Populazzi hung on every word, all four of them gasping and laughing and oh-my-Godding as I wove the tale.

So I made it even better.

I didn't lie, really. I just leaned heavily on the more gasp-worthy details. I spoke vividly about the brothers living like savages in layers of squalor and Thackery maniacally playing Wii all night long. The girls seemed to like the pot stories best, so I went back to those and enhanced them a little, giving Purple Haze a cast of cohorts and making Nate's obsession with them even crazier.

Sure, the details might have been exaggerated, but the spirit of what I said was dead-on accurate. It was just that I told a cartoon version of the truth, without the deeper things like Nate's comatose mom, his indifferent dad, how sweet it kind of was that he wanted to share what meant so much to him—or the fact that I actually liked and felt sorry for him.

That stuff would have bored the Populazzi. I wanted to captivate them. And I did.

"It's all so gothic," Ree-Ree said. "Is it weird that it makes me totally want to bed him?"

At the same time, Kristie said yes and Gemma said no.

"I bet the little brother will grow up to be a serial killer," Trista said. "You're lucky you escaped with your life."

"Did he really name all his"—Kristie lowered her voice—"paraphernalia? And talk to them? And make them talk back to him?"

"All the time!" I said. "I swear, sometimes I think he was flirting with them!"

"Hot and crazy." Ree-Ree smiled.

"If he wasn't getting it up for you, I wonder if he was getting it up for them," Gemma said.

"So, so wrong, Gems." Trista laughed. "Was he?"

"I never saw it happen," I said, "but he would disappear into the bathroom with one of his 'friends' for way too long to smoke or pee. And sometimes when he came out he'd ask if the others were jealous."

"And were they?" Gemma asked.

"I was!" I retorted.

That got all four girls laughing so hard that the guys stopped their conversation to ask what we were talking about.

"Dudes, you will not believe,," Gemma said, then turned to me. "Lay it on them."

Uh-oh.

It was one thing to let the story run away with me, but to purposely lay it out the same way again ... that seemed like more of a lie. But I couldn't change it up now. And besides, the Populazzi never hung out with Nate, so what did it matter?

I told the story again.

The guys loved it even more than the girls. Of course they did; I'd had a rehearsal. I knew how to sell it. Marsh and Brett roared. Eddie smiled, but he was quieter than the other guys. I couldn't figure out why until I finished and Brett pounded Eddie on the back.

"Dude, you gotta watch your ass with this one," he said. "She'll tell it all."

"Yeah," Eddie said. "I can see that now."

I was still smiling from my storytelling triumph, but now my smile felt stale. Had I completely messed things up with Eddie? No matter how much I had won over the Populazzi, I had no doubt that my membership in their club would be immediately revoked if Eddie lost interest in me.

He draped an arm around my shoulders. "You know me, though. I like 'em dangerous."

Everyone laughed as the bell rang. I'd spent the whole period entertaining the Populazzi ... and it had been easy!

"So my house after school, right?" Trista asked as we left the cafeteria. The whole group murmured in the affirmative.

"Cara?" Trista asked.

Me? She was asking me to go to her house after school?

"Yeah! I'd love it!" I said. Then I remembered my reality and winced.

"Oooh, shoot. I'm sorry, I can't."

"Why not?" Trista asked.

I so didn't want tell her. I was sure it would sound lame. Still, I couldn't think of anything better, so...

"I'm kind of grounded."

"For what?" Trista asked.

Gee, um, because my parents found out I was sneaking around dressing emo, which I only did to get Nate, which I only did to get higher on the Popularity Tower, which is why I'm so totally jazzed to be friends with all of you now!

Ah, no.

"Because my parents caught me..." I'd started the sentence without knowing how I'd finish, but the answer was suddenly obvious..."stoned. They smelled the pot on me; that's how they knew."

"Did you ask Mommy and Daddy how they knew the smell?" Gemma asked. "That would have been my first question."

"You smoked pot with Nate?" Kristie sounded disappointed.

"We'll figure something out," Trista said. "We'll call your cell tonight."

I shook my head. "No calls."

"What are your parents, psycho? You're on your computer, right? We'll get your e-mail from Eddie," Trista said.

That settled, we all took off for class, and I rode through the rest of the day in a haze of my own Populazzi-ness. The second school let out I raced to my car and called Claudia to tell her everything.

Well, almost everything. I kind of left out the most important part. I meant to start with it, I really did ... I just couldn't.

"Did Marsh mention me at all?" she finally asked.

Claudia tried to sound casual, but I could hear the hope in her voice, which sucked. I needed her to know Marsh was not a good guy, but the truth would really hurt her. What kind of friend would I be if I did that?

"He didn't," I said, "but I have to tell you, Claude, I hung out with him a lot today, and the guy's kind of a jerk."

"Maybe he doesn't want you to know he's interested, because he knows you'll tell me and he doesn't want me to know. Maybe he wants to be a challenge."

"Maybe..."

This would be the time to tell her Marsh had a girlfriend. She'd be furious, but we'd rake him over the coals until she couldn't even imagine feeling anything but venom toward him. It would be the best thing in the world for her.

But even if she was good and angry when we were talking together, what if she got sad once we hung up? And what if she called Marsh to talk to him about it? He hadn't given her his number, but how hard was it to call 411? And if she spoke to him, how long would it be before he said something about being her very first kiss? She'd know I'd spilled it, and ... then what?

I didn't want to know what happened then. No way.

Besides, this would sort itself out. Marsh was never going to call Claudia. And as long as she thought she had a chance with him, Claude would never call Marsh. Eventually, she'd lose interest. It would be fine.

In the meantime, I needed to change the subject, so I told her about lunch at the Populazzi table. I didn't go into my Nate stories. They suddenly felt a little ... wrong. I just said it had gone really well—so well that Trista had invited me to her house.

"And so spread wide the Golden Doors of the Populazzi Palace for one Cara Leonard!" Claudia announced.

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"Oh, your mission is nowhere near complete, my friend," Claudia corrected me. "Right now you're a Penultimate. By the end of the year, you will be the Supreme Populazzi."

I wanted to tell Claudia that only a bloody coup would tear that title away from Trista Camello, but I knew she wouldn't believe me. She had faith in the Ladder, and everything that had happened to me so far seemed to prove her right.