I frown. “I never thought about it like that. That a white girl always wins.”
“Well, no offense,” says Kiera, eyeing me, “but you’re white, so you wouldn’t have.” But then she offers a wry smile, so I think it’s okay. I smile back.
Kiera and I sit there for a bit, not talking. The weedy, sad patches of grass that make up East Rockport High’s poor excuse for a campus lawn stretch out in front of us. It’s a chilly, gray morning, especially for March in Texas, and I’m in a lousy mood.
“I wish we could do more bake sales, like maybe under some name that’s not Moxie,” Kiera says finally. “Soccer season is upon us, and my uniform isn’t getting any newer, you know.” She scowls a bit. “But maybe not even that is safe with Wilson watching.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought the same thing,” I say. “It would be great to do another bake sale, but my friend Lucy, who planned the first one, got sent home on the day of the assembly. She wasn’t even the one who made the stickers, but they sent her home anyway. It just seems too risky. Even if we don’t call it Moxie.”
Kiera nods. “I get it. It just sucks that whoever the girls are who did that newsletter have stopped altogether.”
“Yeah,” I say, deflated. It’s almost like it was some other girl who made the Moxie zines, and she doesn’t exist anymore. Not since she got replaced by a girl who has a super cute and nice boyfriend and spends her free time making out at the beach and thinking about when she should have sex for the first time.
That girl is great, too.
But she misses Moxie.
A breeze makes it way past us, kicking up a few cigarette butts and dead leaves. Then Kiera says, “Maybe something off campus would work. Like a place where Wilson couldn’t get to it.”
It is an idea, and one I haven’t thought of before. But where and how it could happen? It seems like so much work and risk that I don’t feel fired up about it.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say. I don’t want to hurt Kiera’s feelings, so I quickly add, “It’s a good idea.”
Kiera nods slowly, then looks across the lawn and points.
“There’s your man,” she says, and I see Seth heading toward us.
“Yup,” I say, and as excited as I am to see him—I’m always excited to see him—there’s a part of me that wants to sit here and keep talking to Kiera. To try to work out this Moxie thing, even if I can’t tell her I’m the one who started it all.
But Kiera stands up and brushes off the back of her pants. “I’m taking off.”
“’Kay,” I say as Seth gets closer.
“Good talking to you,” she says, walking away.
“Good talking to you, too,” I tell her. But before she gets too far, I call out to her. “Kiera!”
“Yeah?” she asks, turning to look at me.
“Fuck March Madness,” I say.
A wide grin spreads over Kiera’s face.
“Fuck it!” she shouts, popping both middle fingers in the air for good measure.
I stand as Seth approaches, and we share a quick kiss.
“What were you talking to Kiera about?” he asks.
I fill him in on March Madness and tell him Kiera made the first bracket.
“Oh, I saw stuff about that online,” he says. “It’s stupid.”
“Yeah, really stupid,” I add. “But I’m still depressed about it, I guess.”
“Well, just remember,” Seth says, and he sneaks an arm around my waist, pulling me in for another kiss, “not all guys are like that.”
Before I even realize I’m doing it, I ice up and pull back a bit.
“What’s wrong?” Seth asks, frowning.
“I just…,” I exhale. More and more kids are starting to walk up toward the building. I lower my voice.
“I just miss Moxie, that’s all,” I whisper. “I miss finding a way to fight back against all the bullshit in this school. And you telling me not all guys are like that doesn’t really help me feel better. Because some guys are like that. A lot of them, actually.”
Seth’s eyes go wide. I can’t tell if he’s hurt or surprised.
“But Vivian, there are guys at this school who don’t do March Madness,” he says. “The guys I sometimes eat lunch with … the guys who are into baseball stats and shit. They’re not that kind of guy. I’m not that kind of guy. It’s not like this place is all awful. I mean, we’ve got each other here, right? And anyway, you’re going to graduate eventually and you’ll leave. I just don’t want to see you get so upset.”
I take a deep breath. How can I make him get it? He doesn’t understand that Moxie isn’t—wasn’t—just a fun thing I did to be cool or different like his old hipster friends in Austin. I sincerely wanted to change East Rockport High School. Maybe I was na?ve to think I could, but deep down I believed it might happen.
“What?” Seth asks.
“What what?” I answer.
“Are you … like … what’s up?” he asks, stepping back from me, his brow wrinkling in confusion.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “Just forget it.” I’m frustrated with him, but I’m also frustrated with myself. That I can’t find the words to explain it to him. I’m totally sure he’s not doing it on purpose, but Seth is a guy, and he can’t ever know what it feels like to walk down a hallway and know that you’re getting judged for the size of your ass or how big your boobs are. He’ll never understand what it’s like to second guess everything you wear and how you sit and walk and stand in case it doesn’t attract the right kind of attention, or worse, attracts the wrong kind. He’ll never get how scary and crazy-making it is to feel like you belong to some big Boy Monster that decides it can grab you and touch you and rank you whenever and however it wants.
The first bell rings long and loud. By now kids are streaming in all around us, bumping into Seth and me as we stand there and stare at each other, awkward for the first time since we met.
“Can I walk you in, or is that not okay?” Seth asks, and his voice has got the tiniest edge to it.
“I don’t want to fight,” I murmur, looking down at my feet.
“Me neither,” he says. “I really like you, Vivian. Like, a lot.”
I nod. “I like you, too,” I say.
“So let’s go in? Maybe talk about this later?”
I nod again, and Seth and I walk up the steps into the main building. As I head inside, I get smacked with the scent of industrial cleanser mixed with Axe body spray. I hear the shouts of voices—mostly boys’ voices because nice girls don’t shout—and catch words like March Madness and dumb bitch and she’s so hot.
I clench my fists. I feel like a match about to be lit. Or like the first crack of thunder before the storm. When Seth turns to tell me goodbye before heading to his first-period class, I jump, almost like I forgot he was there.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lucy’s face is eager and open when she finds me the morning after the fourth issue of Moxie makes its debut.