The Jerk Magnet

The cat was out of the bag now. Dirk had made his big announcement about the true identities of Brittany and Trina. The crowd’s reaction had been mixed—some seemed shocked, others looked curious, a few acted disinterested, and some actually looked angry. Chelsea stood in the shadows, watching as Janelle went forward and explained about the experiment.

“To be honest, I wanted to prove to Chelsea that some girls set themselves up to be a jerk magnet.” She paused for some chuckles. “I believed that if a girl dressed a certain way, acted a certain way—like Brittany did—she would attract a certain kind of guy. In other words, a jerk.” Janelle laughed, then got sober again. “But I stand by my theory. And I feel I proved it. When I dressed as Brittany the blonde bombshell, I attracted a small crowd of guys who were interested in me for basically one thing, and let’s say it wasn’t my brilliant mind.” More laughter.

“But I learned something else too,” Janelle said. “I touched on this before, but I learned that it’s really lonely being a jerk magnet. My friend Chelsea, who is something of a jerk magnet in real life, has had great difficulty making friends with girls. Oh, the guys trail her and drool over her and try to date her, but most of the girls—even me at times—try to distance ourselves from her. It’s like we’re either afraid of her or intimidated by her or just confused. But now I’ve reached the conclusion that treating a girl like that only makes the problem worse. Because the truth is a jerk magnet needs some good friends.” She looked at Chelsea. “Right?”

Chelsea nodded as she walked up to stand by Janelle. “That’s absolutely true. It gets lonely when girls treat you like a pariah. And believe it or not, fending off the boys gets a little boring.”

“So tell us your story,” Dirk said to Chelsea.

She stepped up to the mike and cleared her throat. “Well, my story actually begins several years ago.” She confessed how she’d been a total misfit with braces and zits and no friends whatsoever. She couldn’t bring herself to mention her complete lack of breasts until age sixteen, but she did admit to being desperately lonely and introverted. “I hated any social situations, and I did all I could to avoid them. I was an extreme wallflower. I worked hard academically, but I worked even harder to stay under the radar—especially of mean girls. I was miserable.”

“Tell us what changed you,” Dirk said. “You don’t seem like the girl you’re describing at all now.”

“Kate, my stepmother, is very beautiful and stylish. She helped me with a makeover this summer. At first I didn’t want it. I thought it was impossible for me to be anything but what I was. But I gave in, and she worked me over. The weird thing is that even when I looked different on the outside, I felt exactly the same on the inside. So Kate gave me some tools and taught me some things to build up my self-confidence. She told me that it wasn’t how I looked that mattered as much as how I felt about myself. I don’t think I got that right away—to be honest, I was kind of caught up in my new look. But I think I’m starting to get it now.”

Chelsea paused. She was surprised to see that everyone seemed to be listening intently to her. “I recently committed my life to God,” she said. “And thanks to some things I heard at this camp and some things I’ve experienced, I’ve decided that all I want to be is what God wants me to be.” She smiled. “I think that’s going to take some of the pressure off.” She stepped away from the mike.

“Thank you, Janelle and Chelsea,” Dirk told them. “Thanks for sharing so transparently with us. What do you think, people? Did anything these girls say resonate with anyone? Put your hands together if you can relate to any part of this.” The room erupted in loud applause.

“Now we’re going to do something a little different,” Dirk said. “We’re going to break into small groups and talk about some of the things that Janelle and Chelsea brought up. One of our counselors has put together some group questions, and hopefully we’ll have some interesting discussions. We considered separating girls and guys but decided mixed groups might be more revealing. So we ask your cooperation and honesty. If Janelle and Chelsea could stand up here and tell all like they just did, you should be willing to open up some too.”





The small groups started out slowly but went on until past midnight. Guys and girls slowly let their guards down and opened up about all kinds of things in regard to self-image problems, confusion about dating, and a lot of other related topics. On Sunday morning, almost everyone agreed that this fall camp was the best one ever, and when it was time to leave and go their separate ways, there was a lot of hugging and even some tears.

“How did your experiment go?” Mrs. Parker asked after they’d loaded their bags in the trunk and were on their way home.

“It was amazing,” Janelle told her. Without giving all the details, she filled her in a bit.

Chelsea had to agree, it really was amazing. When she went to school on Monday morning, dressed a little more casually than previously, she felt more natural and relaxed than ever before. She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination or because she was trying harder, but everyone seemed a bit friendlier than usual.

The only person she was unsure about was Nicholas Prague. He hadn’t been in her small group at camp, and she’d been so busy the next day—talking to other girls, sharing more of her story, and answering questions—that she’d never had the chance to speak to him again. The last time she’d actually talked to him, she’d still been playing Trina. Naturally, that alone made her more than a little nervous. Would he feel tricked or betrayed or just plain foolish now?

It was for those reasons that she felt she owed him an apology, and she decided to get it over with during lunch. “Can I talk to you?” she asked when she spotted him coming into the cafeteria with Chase.

“Uh, sure, I guess so.” Nicholas looked uneasy, and Chase looked like he was about to make some stupid comment, but then he stopped himself and just smiled.

“Want to go outside?” Chelsea asked.

“Okay.” Nicholas pushed the door open for her and followed her out. His expression was somber. Perhaps even bordering on mad, unless it was her imagination.

Saying a silent prayer, Chelsea went over to a quiet corner of the courtyard and sat down on a bench. Without saying anything, Nicholas sat down next to her, but not too close, like he didn’t want to accidentally touch her. Or maybe he was trying to distance himself. Not that she blamed him particularly.

“I just want to tell you I’m sorry,” she began slowly. “First of all, I’m sorry for deceiving you by playing Trina. I never realized the whole thing would go that far. I’m also sorry for the things I said to you on the beach the other day. Some of them were true, but I know now that some were probably just plain hurtful. I’m sorry for that. But most of all, I’m sorry for kind of tricking you as to my real identity. You were trying to be so sincere, and there were moments when I really wanted to confess what was going on, but that would’ve ruined the experiment.”

“The experiment?” He frowned. “Was that what it really was? Or were you just trying to make a fool out of me?”

Chelsea thought about that. “To be perfectly honest . . . it might’ve been a bit of both. Not that I specifically wanted to embarrass you. But I did want to show you that you were being totally unfair to me. When I heard you and the others talking about me at dinner that night—I mean, the way they were talking about Chelsea while I was pretending to be Trina—well, that hurt. It hurt a lot. Then when you said those things to me, thinking I was Trina but talking about Chelsea like you did—that hurt too. It’s like you managed to hurt both Chelsea and Trina simultaneously—if that makes any sense. I suppose I thought that gave me the right to take the charade to the next level. But anyway, I’m sorry if I hurt you, Nicholas. I would’ve apologized to you at camp, but I never really saw you again.” She stood now. “I’m truly sorry, and I hope you’ll forgive me someday.”

“So are you just going to walk away now?” He stood too and looked at her with a slightly exasperated expression.

“I think I’ve said all I need to say.” She slipped her hands into her jacket pockets.

“Well, I’d like to say something too.” He tipped his head to the bench. “Care to sit down again?”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

“Well, as usual, you beat me to the punch, Chelsea. I wanted to apologize to you too. I tried to find you at camp yesterday, but you were always surrounded by your adoring fans and—”

“My adoring fans?” She narrowed her eyes. Was this an apology or another lecture?

“Sorry.” He looked slightly embarrassed. “I mean your friends. But you have to admit they were kind of like a fan club. After all, you and Janelle were the camp celebrities—whether you were playing Brittany and Trina or just being yourselves, you had everyone going. And it’s not like I blame any of your followers because, seriously, you girls did a great job on Saturday night. Kudos to you.”

“Thanks . . . I guess.”

“So anyway, I wanted to apologize to you, Chelsea. I have to admit that you hit the nail on the head with me more than once. First on Friday night when you defended girls like Chelsea, and then on Saturday when you went to bat for girls like Trina.” He shook his head. “Mostly I feel like an ignorant buffoon around you.”

She blinked. “Seriously? An ignorant buffoon?”

He smiled. “It’s like I’ve been trying so hard to do the right thing—you know, like, I’ve been overthinking everything—and as a result, I’ve been a total ignoramus.”

She couldn’t help but laugh now.

“It’s humbling to sit here and admit all this, but I said pretty much the same thing in my small group—and several of the people there agreed wholeheartedly with me. I’m sure you do too.”

“Oh, Nicholas.” She shook her head. “Your heart’s in the right place. But I think you could be right, you might be overthinking things.” She sighed. “The truth is I can relate to that. I’ve done a lot of overthinking myself. It’s always been a challenge for me to figure out where I fit in. I mean, you heard what I said on Saturday night. That was the truth—but I was even more of an outcast than I admitted to. And trying to figure things out now, plus being a new Christian as well . . . it’s not exactly a walk in the park, if you know what I mean.”

He nodded. “I do know what you mean.”

She stuck out her hand. “So do you think we can be friends?”

His face broke into a gorgeous grin as he grasped her hand and firmly shook it. “Nothing would make me happier, Chelsea. Thanks for giving me a second chance.”

“Isn’t that what life is all about? Second chances?” She couldn’t help but notice he was still holding her hand—not that she minded, although it did make her heart race a bit.

“That’s right. We serve the God of second, third, fourth, and thousandth chances, so I guess we should imitate him, right?”

“Right.” Chelsea didn’t know what to do—he was still holding her hand! “Anyway, I’m glad we can be friends, Nicholas. I’d really like to get to know you better. And I’d like you to know the real me.” She giggled nervously. “To be honest, it’s partly Chelsea and partly Trina—I think I’m still figuring it out myself.”

He smiled. “I like that combination.” He seemed to realize he was still holding her hand. “Sorry.” He slowly released her fingers, looking slightly embarrassed. “Want to go get some lunch now?”

She nodded. As they walked to the cafeteria together, she felt a rush of emotions—hope and happiness and so many other interesting things. But mostly, and most incredibly, she felt almost completely comfortable in her own skin. Besides that, and perhaps for the first time, she felt thankful—truly thankful—that God had made her exactly as he did.


Melody Carlson is the award-winning author of over two hundred books for adults, teens, and children. She is the author of many novels for teens, including Just Another Girl and Anything but Normal, as well as several series for teens, including Diary of a Teenage Girl, TrueColors, Notes from a Spinning Planet, the Carter House Girls, and Words from the Rock. She has won a Gold Medallion Award and a Romance Writers of America Rita Award, and she was nominated for a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award. She lives with her husband in Sisters, Oregon. Visit her website at www.melodycarlson.com.



Books by Melody Carlson