Big Haired Bitches - 5. Beauty and the Beast

What I had in my possession when I got home and finally had the time and space to sort through it all, was like paper gold. If I had put the contents of that envelope on eBay that very night, I could have netted thousands of dollars by morning. I could see the infomercial reel playing in my head.

The Queen Bee at Summit Hill High had once been fat.

In the shallow world we live in, where beauty is measured in inches and cup sizes, this made her inferior to pretty much everyone she lorded over. If this information got out, she’d be done for. All respect would be lost. No one served a queen who paid for her looks with money she used to spend at Krispy Kream. We wanted our queens naturally beautiful. And Tori was not.

There it all was on paper. The medical file from the Central Day Women’s Center, a clinic and spa. Six surgeries, including a gastric bypass, liposuction, a skin tuck, a boob lift, an ass lift and a chin tuck. All chronicled, photographed, dated and time stamped. This was better than the photos of Eric. This was a direct hit to the devil herself.

The clincher though, was the before and after picture. While everything else was riddled with medical jargon and official handwritten barely legible notes, the pictures spoke for themselves, and they were each worth a thousand words.

The girl in the before picture looked like a younger, rounder version of Tori. She was just small enough to be recognizable, but large enough to be embarrassing. I found myself having to real my shallow excitement in, but in the end, I couldn’t help but revel.

The date was listed as summer 2007, and if my calculations were correct, it meant that Tori was rising to the eighth grade. The other thing that was queer was the listed address. It showed that the Perse family were billed out of Portsmith, Texas, a gulf town about an hour and half south of Houston. There was no mention of Summit.

A little recon work and some well formed Google searches led me to the whole story. In 2007, Richard Perse was offered the CEO position of Southwest Banking, the oldest and second largest banking group in Texas. They had connections with Wells Fargo Investing, offices in Dallas and San Antonio, contacts and alumni peppered throughout the Texas legislature and more money than one could count. The position meant an upgrade for the family, and a move to Summit Hill, just north of Houston, Texas where Southwest Banking was headquartered.

There were no pictures on Richard Perse’s 500 Richest American’s Forbes profile. The only pictures I found online of the family were perfectly curated and even my sleuth skills couldn’t find any record of Tori’s looks prior to the family move in 2007.

She was good, but for some reason, she wasn’t good enough. Sitting on my lap was a before and after that would crush her. The pictures weren’t bad taken out of context, but when paired with the Queen herself, in the right situation, I had the power to humiliate her for life.

The hardest part about it when I went to bed that night, was knowing that I would have to wait. I couldn’t just post the pictures up on Facebook or print copies and hang them from the lockers. For maximum damage, I had to wait until the bitch was at her most vulnerable. And so I bit my tongue, and I waited.

Things following the fight got tense between Eric and me. I met him for coffee before school the next morning and I found myself not wanting to talk to him. He was a chump and his sister’s butt aid and it was difficult for me to take him seriously, no matter how cute he was.

I decided that if I wasn’t feeling it anymore, I’d better break up with him. I wasn’t worried about the ramifications. Tori would be pissed and dismiss me from the group, but I had something on her that guaranteed my seamless revenge. Besides, being popular wasn’t worth staying in a stale relationship. I was sure there were plenty of other guys at Summit crawling in and out of the closet and any number of them would have made a fine accessory.

By Wednesday, my eye had healed and I had mustered the courage to do it. Eric and I were set to have dinner at La Ponche in historic downtown. I just had to get through the day unscathed before I could.

“You’re having dinner with my brother tonight?” Tori asked me on my way to first period Wednesday morning.

“That’s the plan,” I said.

“Wanna get dressed at my place?” she asked. She sounded honestly sincere about the invitation.

“I’d better not,” I replied. “It’s your brother and all. I’d like to maintain an air of mystery in the outfit.”

Tori chuckled. “Suit yourself, poodle. See you at lunch.”

She clacked ahead of me and went on to terrorize someone else. I kept thinking about my exit strategy during class, zoning out ever two or three minutes. How would I do it? Would I just say things weren’t working? You’re hot and great in bed, but I have zero respect for you. You couldn’t even come to my aid in a fight. By the time the buzzer neared, I decided on going with the tried and true ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ and seeing where the chips fell.

“Mr. Chancer, can I see you please?” the calc professor said as I put my book in my bag and watched everyone else file out. Frankel always said my last name like it was from medieval England and I’d written a masterpiece of short parables.

“Sure,” I said. I approached the desk, not sure what to expect, but sure it wasn’t good. My performance in calc was weak to say the least, and even worse in the past three days. It was hard to concentrate when you were planning on dumping the most popular guy in school.

“Mr. Chancer, your last two quiz scores have me incredibly worried,” he said. “With Friday’s midterm coming up, I just want to make sure you’re grasping the material and aren’t floundering around. I’d hate for you to be wasting your time in calculus when Ready Math is a viable option.”

Ready Math was the cute pet name they gave to the Remedial Math course. It was supposed to give you the basic skills to make it in life without being too difficult. How to Calculate your WIC Savings was an actual chapter title.

“Mr. Frankel, I assure you I’m not floundering. I’m just… I had a bad weekend and it took me longer to get caught up than I thought.”

“You’ll need to keep your distractions in check if you plan on surviving academically at Summit, Mr. Chancer,” he said. “And while the incompetencies of your personal life don’t interest me much, I’m setting you up with a peer tutor.”

“Mr. Frankel, that’s a little extreme,” I said, embarrassed I was even having this conversation.

“What is extreme, Logan, is your lack of understanding for these basic concepts. Your tutor’s name is Steven and he will meet you at lunch this afternoon to discuss the details of your sessions.”

With that, Frankel handed me a late slip for my next class and dismissed me.

As I walked down the hall alone, I felt embarrassed that I’d let my work suffer in order to be one of the cool kids. At SoHo, I was a straight A student. Of course, in SoHo, making A’s entailed showing up without a concealed weapon and not falling asleep or overdosing in class.

I usually walked to English with Eric, but seeing as to I was late, I ended up going alone and sitting behind him. He slipped me a note asking where I was eating lunch and I told him I had to meet with a guy named Steven for tutoring. He turned around and gave me a sad face glare. Professor Azle cleared his throat at us and I shrugged Eric off.

Steven. I pictured some nerdy ass kid who knew way too much about math to ever be useful walking towards me in the quad, glasses perched, and pocket square erect.

“The whole thing is just stupid,” I told Eric as we walked to the quad. “Frankel is overreacting. I mean come, one or two botched quizzes and I’m Ferris Bueller?”

“He just wants to make sure you do well on the midterm. And so do I, babe,” Eric said. He kissed me softly, said he’d see me later and went to the center bench in the quad while I waited for Steven under the arches.

The bevy of students that marched by couldn’t have been worse. They were judging me and I knew it. They knew who I was by proxy of my boyfriend and newest best friends and they knew something was wrong if I wasn’t already at center quad, judging them for their lack of social class and style.

Then I saw him. He approached me with a smile and an extended arm. How I’d never seen him before was completely beyond me, but there he was in the flesh, the cutest guy I had ever laid eyes on. He was tall and blonde, about 6’2. He was built incredibly, the kind of build that you knew was solid. His shoulders were wide and his chest was massive. He could have passed for Armie Hammer on a good day. I wondered why he was approaching me and I had to physically control my expression from forming a questioning gaze. Surely, he wasn’t…

“Hey, I’m Steve,” he said in a deep voice that belonged in the baritone section of the Houston Harmonics. My palm was sweating, I was sure, but I shook his hand anyway. I smiled at him.

“I’m, uh… I’m Logan,” I said.

“I know,” he raised an eyebrow. You do, do you? Is there something you’d like to say? “Frankel showed me your student profile. Listen, I um, if you’re up for it, I say we get started right away. How’s maybe after dinner tonight? Your midterm is in two days, so I don’t want to waste any time.”

“Um, sure,” I smiled. “After dinner will be fine. How’s nine?”

“Perfect,” he said. He handed me a card with his name and an address on it. “This is where we can meet. Bring all of your books, old homework and old quizzes. I’ll see you tonight.”

He labored away, a head above the crowd and I stood there stunned, as if I’d just been struck by a heart shaped arrow.

If I wasn’t thrilled about breaking up with Eric before I met Steve, I was certainly warming up to it afterwards. When I met him at dinner that night, however, I was still a big bundle of nerves.

“What’s the matter with you?” Eric asked as he reached into the breadbasket. “You’re fidgeting.”

“I am?” I asked. I wiped my brow and realized I was sweating. I was never good at this sort of thing. Of course, my idea of breaking it off with someone in the past was simply not calling them. This was different. This was a relationship. “I guess I’m just nervous about the whole tutoring thing. I’m used to being the smart one, you know?”

“Welcome to Summit,” he smiled at me. “Speaking of, I did a little intel work on the math tutors. You said yours was named Steven right?”

“I don’t know if his last name is Right. He just said Steven,” I replied.

“I mean right… like, right?” Eric said emphasizing it for me.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Yeah, his name is Steven,” I said realizing that I was a bigger bundle of nerves than I thought.

“Well it turns out he’s on the rowing team and he throws javelin for track,” Eric said with wide open eyes. “One of the lacrosse guys had him earlier this year and he’s supposedly really smart.”

“That’s good to know,” I said with a big sigh. “Listen, Eric, I wanted to talk to you tonight.”

I couldn’t stand him being cute and talky when I knew the whole time that I was there to end it. This was tough.

“Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”

“Look, you’re a really awesome guy and you’re great and anyone would be lucky to be with you. But I think with the whole new school thing and my grades slipping, I just… I don’t think I need to be in a relationship right now. I’m really sorry,” I said. I looked at him intently and waited for a reaction.

“You’re breaking up with me?” he said in more of a sentence than a question.

“Eric, I…”

“Save it,” he said. “I’m not interested in hearing it, I’m really not.”

“Eric…” he stood up and pushed his chair in. I expected him to get upset, but I also expected us to talk it out. “Eric wait.”

“You know what, my first instincts about you were completely true,” he said. “Congratulations, you’re right where you wanted to be. At the top of the heap. You can toss your baggage now.”

“Eric, it so isn’t like that,” I said. I was trailing him out of the restaurant. I saw the Maitre D look at us and follow us out to the parking lot.

“Then what the hell is it like? You and my sister are cut from the same cloth, you know that? How do you think the Queen Bee is going to react when she finds out you dumped her brother in the middle of his favorite restaurant? Huh? Did you think that through?”

“Eric, I just… I can’t have a boyfriend right now and I need you to understand I wasn’t using you.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said with genuine hurt in his eyes. “We’ll see if that’s true when you’re sitting on the bench under the center tree tomorrow with all of your fabulous new friends.”

I watched him cross the lot and jump into his car. As I drove out of downtown in my Rover, I felt sincerely hurt and sad. What did he want me to do? Go on hooking up with him, pretending to care about him, when the fact of the matter was it wasn’t going to work out between us? Our issues were real issues and I foresaw them being issues for a long time. I wasn’t interested in stringing him along, and I was hoping he’d understand that instead of slinging dirt in my face.

And how dare he say I was cut from Tori’s cloth. Hello, I thought. You can’t see past your brown nose to even look at Tori’s cloth. If he thought I was morphing into her, why was he so quick to defend her a couple of days ago? Something didn’t add up, and I knew enough about math to realize that.

      **

I got to the address Steven had listed on the card. I checked my face, made sure I was composed, if not over dressed for a tutoring session, and then walked up the driveway to the opulent French door.

A charming older woman answered. She had a bright smile and a beautifully preserved face. I caught a waft of sugar and cinnamon coming from her when she greeted me and let me in.

“Let me go fetch Steven for you,” she said in a thick southern accent. My initial guess was either Alabama or Georgia. I had a seat at the breakfast table where calculus books were laid out and Steve’s backpack was taking up its own chair. He came a minute later.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry I wasn’t down here. I’m so used to people being late.” He sat across from me with a big smile that immediately put me at ease. “You look nice.”

I took the compliment in as a guy saying another guy looked nice. I didn’t think much of it. The truth was, I was thinking how awesome he looked in just a pair of jeans and a short sleeved shirt. His body was spectacular, his face flawless and his hair carelessly fingered back. He was a stud, plain and simple. And he was so close to me.

“Thanks,” I replied. “I had a date.”

“With Eric? You two still going strong?”

“Um… sort of. How’d you know I was…”

“It’s a small community,” he said with a hint of secrecy in his eyes. “We talk.”

He cleared his throat, scooted his chair next to me, and with no further ado, dove right into calculus. We talk? Who were we? The other friends of Dorothy?

Our first task was undoing all of the bad habits I’d picked up trying to teach myself how to figure things out. Once Steve showed me the formulas I should have learned ages ago, I started to understand what was going on.

That whole ordeal took up our entire two hour session, and we hadn’t even started prepping the material that would be on my exam in two days. I noticed Steve looking at me as I packed up my books to go home and take a much needed bubble bath.

“Thanks for the help,” I said with a smile.

“No problem,” he replied. “I’m always around to lend a helping hand. Calculus or otherwise.” I looked up and noticed him wink at me really quickly. There was no way I’d seen that happen. I willed away the boner that wanted to peak out and say hello, using my bag as a shield as I walked out just in case.

Then came the moment of truth: the departure theory. I went in for the hug, he went in for the handshake. The handshake erased everything that heretofore settled on my gaydar. The wink, the compliment, the ‘we’.

What resulted from the hug/handshake debacle was an awkward goodbye that consisted of neither. I got nothing but a head nod for the road.

As I went home and ran a bath, I seriously wondered if I had imagined that entire flirtation with Steve or not. Even I couldn’t be fortunate enough to get the world’s cutest tutor and have him happen to be gay and flirtatious with me. But a boy could dream, right? And a boy did. Twice.

      **

I thought the following day would be incredibly awkward. Breaking up with someone and having to see them is awkward enough. Having to see his bitchtastic older sister had to be even worse.

“See you at lunch, bitch,” Tori said to me like she had for four consecutive days, between second and third period. I stopped dead in my tracks. Had Eric not told her? Did she just not care? Is this what he was talking about? Had I inched my way so far upwards that I honestly didn’t need him anymore? Was I in despite losing my in?

I regained my wits just in time to see Tori round the corner about 20 feet ahead. I sped ahead towards her to ask if she’d heard the news. As I approached, I heard Eric’s voice and decided to slow down and listen.

“I don’t give a flying fuck, Tor. I did what you wanted.”

“And you failed,” she said. “Now listen. If you don’t make nice with your little boyfriend until after Homecoming, I will be forced to release the photos.”

“Release them,” Eric replied. He sounded tired. “You can’t force me to play nice with someone who dumped me.”

“Eric, you don’t want to do this.”

I heard a sigh, footsteps followed by more footsteps.

“Eric,” she hissed, her voice shrill and scary. “You had one goal.”

“Look, he still trusts you. Do your own dirty work,” Eric spat at her.

I leaned against a locker with my head back, feeling betrayed about everything. Eric was sent to pull me in? I wondered when the whole thing started. Was it after I stood up to Tori about my car? Was it after we were dating or before? He’d approached me the first day I was at Summit. Had Tori sent him to get info on me before I even knew who they were?

Feeling betrayed sucked. What sucked worse was feeling like someone whose feelings I’d taken into consideration never had my back. I guess his little speech about me and Tori being the same lacked one additional subject: Eric. He was the same, only worse: he wanted to get dirty, but still stay out of the ring. He was a hypocrite too.

I gritted my teeth through lunch, swallowing my desire to tell Tori that I was fucking on to her. I had the trump card, I kept telling myself. I just needed to buy time until I could use it.

“Sorry to hear about you and Eric,” Taylor said to me as we walked at his brisk pace towards lunch. “Ya’ll were so cute. But, like Brad and Jen, nothing lasts forever huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said.

“Don’t be sad, peaches,” Taylor said to me. “A little birdie tells me you’ll be having a lot of fun here really soon.” I looked at him, wondering if I could trust him. The one person I thought I could trust turned out to be on her payroll as well, using the pictures I’d conjured up to sick him against me. But at the end of the day, Taylor didn’t have to tell me about the weight loss surgery. He was an ally, I decided. He had to be; I had no one else.

“Eric’s doing fine, you know,” Tori said to me at lunch. “He understands that it’s important for you to keep your grades up. Plus, who wants to be tied down right after moving to a new school, you know? I just hope ya’lls break up doesn’t come between us.”

She gave me a slanted half smile. This coming from the girl who loved her brother so much. If she thought she was fooling me, it was time for her to think again.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Speaking of, I can’t hang out after school today. Tutoring calls.”

“You do what you have to do, sweetie,” Tori said. “But we’ll be strategizing for this.”

She handed me a card and I took it. On it simply said Homecoming 2010: A Night to Remember. The date listed under the stock photo of a shooting star was two weeks away.

“As you can see, we have no time to waste,” she said.

“Tor, you’re the most popular girl in school. Do you actually need to compete for Homecoming court?” I asked. The look on Whit’s face told me it was a stupid question before I had even gotten the whole thing out.

“It’s not about me, Logan,” she said. “I’ve been on the court for two years and I will be on the court again this year. It’s about the guy standing next to me on the court that matters. Now, I have my idea of who’s deserving, so let’s get on this shall we. Strategy session tonight at my place. It’s a shame you can’t be there, poodle. These things are loads of fun.”

The look on her face was purely wicked. I was glad that for once her venom wasn’t pointed directly at me.

And then the idea hit me like a ton of acme bricks.

Homecoming.

The single most important event in Texas high school festivia. It was the event that separated the wheat from the chaff. The coolest of cool made ballot. The real crème de la crème made court. One girl and one guy stood above the rest. A senior. She made Queen. He made King. Together, they ruled for a calendar year.

The fact that junior court was such a big deal to Tori and Co. was amazing. I presumed they had their reasons for wanting one of their own picks on the court with Tori, and I wished I could have been at the inaugural planning meeting. I imagined a think tank with several phones all ringing at once. A blackboard in the corner with notes. Buttons on everyone’s lapel. Potential candidate’s photos stapled to the wall as they were being vetted one by one. Tori Perse can’t be seen on the court with anyone that isn’t a total ten. Hold the presses! If Jack Kennedy himself doesn’t get nominated, heads will roll.

I snapped out of my daydream just as lunch ended, putting the final touches on my master plan to bring Tori Perse down.

Homecoming.

      **

He looked like a vision. Honestly, things like this weren’t supposed to happen to guys like me. I stood there at his front door, it ajar for me to come in, and him standing there in nothing but running shorts. He was dripping wet from the head down, glistening in what was left of the fall sunset.

“Come in,” he said. “I’m so sorry, I was in the shower and I barely heard the doorbell, so I ran down.”

“Your um… your parents aren’t home?” I asked, taking in a deep breath. His body was even more beautiful than I had imagined. His arms were strong, his abs were chiseled. He was a walking Abercrombie and Fitch ad and I was pretty sure there were trace amounts of precum soaking through my boxer briefs.

“No,” he said. “They’re actually out all weekend. Dad has a conference. Mom went with him.”

“Well, let’s hope you don’t get into too much trouble here on your own,” I said, not trying to sound flirty at all. The sentence just popped out, like my 501 button was about to.

“Let’s hope that I do,” Steve whispered. I took in a deep breath and followed him passed the kitchen and towards the stairwell.

“I was thinking we could work up in my room tonight,” he said nonchalantly. “Those chairs downstairs are pretty uncomfortable, no?”

“I’m sure your bed is plenty comfortable,” I said, again, vomiting words from the mouth. Where was this smooth talking flirt coming from? I wasn’t this guy. This wasn’t my life. I started giggling as I watched his very firm butt bounce up the stairs in front of me.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked when we reached the top.

“No of course not,” I replied. I couldn’t stop giggling. Once I’d started the loop, it was on to stay. “I just… I don’t even know why I’m laughing.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, still giggling. We entered his room, nicely decorated and well put together. I noticed immediately the two posters the wall facing his bed. Orlando Bloom with Lord of the Rings hair and a mystery model pulling himself out of a pool in black skin tight trunks. There was no denying my previous theory, even if I was still surprised this was happening to me.

“Did I do something funny?”

“No,” I said, catching my breath. “It’s just. This whole thing is like the start of a million pornos.”

I started laughing again and he blushed at me. His smile vanished and I realized I’d probably hurt his feelings.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go so over the top,” he said. It was weird seeing such a big, strong guy get so serious and defensive.

“No it’s fine. It’s cute, and I dunno,” I said, realizing I was jumping the gun. What if it wasn’t what it looked like? What if he wasn’t trying to get me into bed? I mean, he did have his books laid out on the bed, so studying was definitely on the agenda. The evidence pointed to gay, sure, but I was being presumptuous to think it pointed to my pants as well. “Look, it’s just that this is the storyline only completely backwards. I got the makeover. I’m supposed to be the smart one pining over the gorgeous jock. I’m supposed to be the tutor who can’t keep his boner in check. And I’m…”

And that’s when Steven kissed me. Like, a real solid ‘stop talking, let’s bone’ kiss. And by catching me mid-sentence, he managed to catch my tongue in the perfect position to slide into his mouth.

I couldn’t help but notice how far down he had to lean to kiss me. He really was tall. He led us backwards to the head of the bed that didn’t have any books by it. I fell down on my back and he glided sexily on top of me.

“Look, I get this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen, but you’re a catch. And a breath of fresh air,” he said. We stopped talking right then and there and he returned to kissing me.

The whole thing was great. It was unexpected and fun and a good little bookend after my mid afternoon betrayal. Steven was earnest when he kissed. His hands didn’t travel too far down south, although I would have certainly appreciated a feel.

In the end, it was me who initiated second base, something I wasn’t used to doing. Steve moaned really loudly when I cupped his ass in my hands and then moved my arm around and felt through his running shorts. His boner was unmistakably stiff and I gave it a good squeeze. He squirmed, lifted off the bed and scooted away from me.

He let go of my face for a second and smiled at me.

“You don’t waste any time do you?” he asked with a pant. That there made me feel like a huge slut. The rest of our make out was rated PG-13 as I tried not to seem like a cheap and easy date.

By the time we got around to actually studying calculus, I had gone through every image in my mind of what Steven looked like naked. Shirtless I had seen, and I was pleased. Naked was a different story; I could only anticipate. His chest wasn’t too hairy, so I assumed neither was his ass and balls. In fact, based on his lack of treasure trail, I figured he manscaped at least a little.

Really, I just wanted to see what his cock looked like. Call me a horny adolescent and you wouldn’t be too far off the mark. From what I felt, it wasn’t too big, but it certainly wasn’t small. Serviceable was the word that came to mind.

“Did you get that?” he asked, snapping me out of my daydream.

“Get what?” I asked, clearly not listening.

“How the sine of this angle correlates with…”

“Okay, I’m gonna cut you off right there. Listen, I don’t want to sound like a slut,” I said, realizing that anything I said after that would make me, indeed, sound like a slut. “But I’m not gonna be able to concentrate on anything you have to say until I’m not boiling over with seminal hormones.”

He grinned at me. He was playing the ‘you’re fast’ bit for my benefit. I’m sure the star rower in the school’s regatta was used to being considered the fast one.

“How about this. You get these practice problems solved and we’ll get this problem solved,” he said in a deep seductive voice. He cupped my raging boner in his hand. I smiled, grabbed the book, and an hour and twenty minutes later I had his sine, cosine, and tangent spilling out of my mouth and onto my chin.

      **

I aced my calc exam the following day, and I was all oversexed smiles doing it.

“You look happy,” Steven whispered to me in the hall after the midterm. He smiled at me as we walked down the hall. We parted ways at the columns. I headed to center quad and he went to his spot on the marble coliseum style bleachers with the other broad shouldered rowers.

I tried my best to contain my face at lunch, but I couldn’t help but grin while Whit gave me a quick rundown on what they’d decided about the male side of the Homecoming ballot.

“There’s Jason Walker, who I’m thinking is the top pick. He’s destined to win King next year if he stays quarterback of the team. Of course, there’s the possibility that Chris Lafonte could start next year which would render Jason useless,” Whit recited.

“We’ll take our chances. I don’t see Lafonte starting next year and if we have to do something about it, we will,” Tori said, as if she was playing with Ken dolls and not actual human lives. In that meeting, as they sorted through potential juniors who would maximize Tori’s nomination, I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

What she was doing, in her Miranda Priestly sort of way, was important to her. And to one lucky guy, it would mean the world. It was shallow and vapid, sure, but it was high school. And to them… to us… it was the world.

      **

Eric pulled me aside just as I approached my Rover. It was hard being the only student allowed to park in the faculty lot: people always knew where you would head after school.

“Listen, Loges, I just… I wanted to apologize for overreacting on Wednesday,” he said to me. He looked truly pathetic. If I didn’t know he was there on his sister’s bidding to make sure I stayed close, I would have felt sorry for him.

“I accept that,” I said, taking another step towards my Rover and trying not to act like the bitch I felt like being.

“I hope we can still be friends,” he said, stepping in front of the Rover.

I swallowed, forced a smile and said, “I’d like that, Eric.”

“Um… alright then,” he said. “I’ll see you around this weekend.”

“Probably not,” I said, stepping into the car and closing the door. Eric leaned close through the open window. “I have a lot of calculus to do this weekend.”

It was a partial truth. I had a lot of Steven to do, and he tutored calculus, so by the transitive property of doing… I’d be doing my calculus all weekend long.

I had one thing to do before I could put my feet up and daydream about my new crush until it was a classy hour to head over. His parents were still away and he’d hinted at hitting it in every room of the house. I didn’t want to seem over eager.

Instead of driving right to Steven’s, I drove south on I-45 for over half an hour, beating the interstate traffic before it really got raging at five. By the time I got to the South Houston Kinkos, I was a world away from the cobble stone streets of Summit Hill.

I walked in and went straight to the self-printer in the back. Wave one of my attack on Tori’s Homecoming campaign was turning her trusted allies against her and exposing her for what she really was.

It took forty-five minutes to print the two hundred glossy photographs to my liking. I kept them turned over so as not to raise a suspicious eye from other Kinkos customers.

The next bit of work was a little trickier. With every minute counting up and ticking away at my dad’s credit card, I logged into a kiosk computer, inserted my jump drive and opened the photo folder labeled Tori. Inside, I copy-and-pasted the photos into an email and sent it on delay to myself and everyone else on the Summit junior class email list. I set the send time for Monday morning, logged off, paid for my color prints, and left South Houston.

In forty-eight hours, Tori’s world would come crashing down on her and the big haired bitch wouldn’t even have seen it coming.