Jenni James - Pride and Popularity

“Okay.”

“Four-wheeling instead of doing your homework, talking on the phone all evening, reading notes in class.” My dad raised a finger for each of the things he listed, as if he was counting them off.

“So? What do you want me to do?”

“We think it would be a good idea for you to get a job. It’s been almost three weeks since the theater group broke up. Playtime is over, Chloe.” My mom gave me a knowing look. 

Needless to say, after the “talk” with my folks, I called up Ms. Chavez at the dance studio to ask for my old job back. She said I could start Monday. I asked for weekends and Wednesdays off so I could still go on dates, just in case a certain someone felt like asking me out again after this weekend’s test and my blatant rejection of our first date.

My phone call with Ms. Chavez turned out to be a bit more lucrative than I’d expected. Not only did she offer to give me a raise, but she had a friend who was willing to consider me for Arizona State University’s ballet scholarship program. I guess she had told her friend about me and the work I’d done in her studio. Ms. Chavez even offered to help me with an admissions DVD. To say my parents freaked would be an understatement, and I was pretty excited myself.

Later that evening when I called Madison to tell her about my date with Collin, my call to Blake, my new job, and my possible ASU scholarship, she still found time to insist Taylor liked me. But Madison was singing a different tune about Taylor on Friday. We all were, because apparently, he’d fallen in love. 

So what else would the whole student body talk about besides Taylor Anderson? You know, I have no idea, because it appears there is always some excitement that happens to revolve around him. Seriously, can’t we think of something more original? So he’s got a new girlfriend. Like that’s a shocker. The longest the guy has ever gone girlfriendless was back in the seventh grade, and even that was for just three days.

In seventh grade, rumor had it that the girl he wanted to add to his list of conquests was on a trip with relatives at the time, which is why it took three days. Of course, the story goes on to say that she did manage (after an urgent phone call from a friend who tipped her off) to convince her family to cut their vacation short so she could receive the wondrous honor of becoming Taylor’s next.

Who does this? And seriously, what makes him so special that the whole world stops just for him? Okay, I’ll admit it was chivalrous when he did my detention for me. Still, he is just a guy, isn’t he? A guy who has a dreadfully annoying habit of bragging about his newest and latest model.

“And then we kissed. It was so awesome. I knew right then that I had to ask her to be mine.” Taylor beamed.

Oh, spare me. It sounded as if he had gotten the lines right out of a B-rated soap opera. I rolled my eyes and I looked up from the single-minded focus of my chalk landscape. I wanted to see if anyone else had bought into Taylor’s sappy drivel.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Half of the art room had surrounded our table. The other half had strained so hard to hear Taylor’s account of how he found his one true love that they had to hang onto their respective tabletops to not fall off their seats.

“What did she say?” Alyssa asked. I glanced at her and realized she’d long forgotten the landscape she’d been drawing. Her elbows sat on the table where her work should’ve been. She sighed dreamily and rested her chin on her hands.

Madison wasn’t as impressed as she was amused. She claimed she wasn’t very romantic, though for some reason she sure liked to hear the latest and greatest romance gossip.

“She said yes, of course.” Taylor laughed. “What else would she have said?”

“What else indeed,” I muttered under my breath as I leaned in closer to my artwork.

“What was that, Chloe?” His voice in my ear did zilch compared to the shivers his warm breath caused. No guy should ever breathe that close to a girl’s ear. It should be illegal or something.

As I turned my head, our noses nearly collided. For a few moments, I stared at that nose and those lips so close to my own before my gaze traveled up to his glittering eyes. I jerked back but realized I had just crossed the line of disinterested into very interested by the standards of any one of the students who had witnessed our display. To give Taylor credit—which I shouldn’t have done in case it gave the impression I was even mildly okay with the jerk’s existence—he looked just as confused and shaken as I did. A couple of seconds longer and I may have tried to kiss the guy. Infuriated with myself and my lack of ability to breathe, I decided to end this fiasco.

“Ms. Bailey, can you help me with this water?” I asked loud enough to be heard over the music that streamed into her earphones. “I can’t seem to get my lake to look real.”

Immediately the room became a flurry of activity as the students dispersed to their seats.

Ms. Bailey looked up, removed her headset, and glanced around the room as everyone scrambled. “What has been going on here?”

Because it was an advanced art class, Ms. B. usually left us to our own devices, which allowed her to work freely on her paintings. She was lenient to an extent, but even she wouldn’t tolerate complete abandonment of work.

“Get back to work, now!”

She waited until all of the students were working on their landscapes before she walked over to our table. I felt a momentary stab of guilt and hoped the class wouldn’t be punished.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. You were saying?”

“Oh, I was wondering if I could get some advice on my lake. I don’t think it looks as realistic as it should.”

“Remember, dear, you need to repeat the same landscapes and trees you see above the water, in the water. The same colors and all, just more muted, like this.”

I looked over at Taylor, my mind wandering from Ms. B.’s demonstration. He was completely engrossed in his work. He’s probably trying to make up for all of the time he wasted boasting.

A glance at Alyssa showed she was doing the same. Only Madison looked right back at me. Slowly, she raised one eyebrow. Her gaze left mine to settle on Taylor and then returned back to me. The look she sent spoke volumes.

Dang. She still thinks Taylor likes me. How am I ever going to convince her that he doesn’t? Besides, Taylor’s in love. Can’t she see that? 

“Well, Mr. Winter, it says here that your parents are of German ancestry,” my dad said as he read over the four-page questionnaire Blake filled out before dinner.