Pride and Popularity

Twenty-Three Random Rumor

So you want to know what’s worse than being up half the night talking to the Andersons, your parents, and the media? Yep, someone at the hotel leaked the story to the press. You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you. It was going to school Friday morning— dead tired and fully exhausted, walking around like a zombie— and overhearing that Taylor had a date to prom. Not that it mattered, because it didn’t. I mean, duh, he’s Taylor Anderson, right? So why should it bother anyone at all that he had a date? I mean seriously, there is no one who would care less than me.

Except that’s what I didn’t get. I did care! What was I thinking, anyway—that he’d miraculously start loving me again because he saved my sister? Yeah, right. He was probably more disgusted with us than anything. I mean, hello? Better stay away from the Hart sisters—talk about trouble. One’s got a temper and will rip your head off for crossing her, and the other is so flirtatious she’ll start dating anyone she meets on the internet.

So it’s obvious, I decided. I will never see Taylor again. I get it. I blew it. And really, it is a good thing. Because who wants to be popular anyway? It’s so highly overrated, it’s a joke. I certainly don’t want to be. I don’t, really. I just want the guy behind the popularity.

I stopped walking to my art class as the reality of that last thought hit me. I had just admitted to myself that I liked Taylor Anderson, and I was flabbergasted. Oh my gosh. How much more blinded by fear and pride could I have been? I was totally afraid to have my heart broken by another popular jerk, and too proud to see that there was actually a different Taylor Anderson—a real, sweet, caring Taylor Anderson beneath all the popularity. I finally realized I actually preferred the guy behind what everyone else saw.

And to think he used to love me. Me.

“Hey, Chloe.”

I turned to see Madison jogging to catch up. “Yeah?” I half smiled and began to walk again as she joined me.

“Wow, so I heard about Blake. How are you doing? Why didn’t you say anything?”

I guess now would be a good time to point out that the school had also been talking about Cassidy and Blake. Not that I blame them. I mean, it made the 10:00 news last night and the local newspaper this morning. It was such a hot story that it almost trumped Taylor asking a girl to prom. Almost.

I shrugged at Madison. “There comes a point when you have talked to so many reporters that you get tired of talking about it, you know? I figured most people know anyway.”

“Well, how’s Cassidy? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she woke up with a raging fever this morning. I think the stress of last night might’ve added to everything. I mean it’s pretty embarrassing to have strangers and your parents go through all of your Facebook messages, phone texts, and emails, especially when you have to answer questions about every one. Cass was up later than I was, and I went to bed way after midnight. But I think she’ll be okay—much better than she could’ve been.”

“Yeah. That Blake guy is a creep,” Madison said. “Thank goodness for Taylor.”

I owed so much to Taylor. My whole family did. Who knew that his feeling he should check out Blake’s Facebook profile would lead to my sister being saved?

Walking on in silence, I contemplated the “almost”s and “could have been”s that surrounded Cassidy’s ordeal yesterday.

Madison interrupted my thoughts. “Hey, I’ve got some news that’ll cheer you up.”

“You do? What is it?”

“Guess who got nominated for prom king?” she practically gushed.

“Uh, Taylor?” I snorted.

“Well, yeah, but who else?”

“Oh, um, Zack?” I tried.

“Okay. Yes, but who else? Come on Chloe, think. Who is the least likely to be nominated for prom king, but would make the coolest king ever?”

Is this some sort of trick question? “Okay, who would I never think of? Uh, I don’t know. I give up.”

“Ethan. Ethan’s been nominated for prom king.” She began to jump up and down.

Ethan? Ethan! “Shut up. Ethan got nominated for prom king? Eeeh. That is so cool!” I jumped with her.

“Voting starts Monday, so don’t forget, okay?” she said as we joined Alyssa for art.

Maybe life isn’t so bad after all, I thought. I mean. Alyssa got Zack, who she deserves. Madison loves Collin and is so happy to have a boyfriend. My sister is safe. And Ethan just got nominated for prom king. Life is good. Plus my birthday’s in fourteen days. I’ll finally be an adult. That’s just weird and cool all at the same time.

Suddenly, I wondered if Ethan had a date to prom. He would be way fun to go with.

A couple of days later I got an email from Ethan. I thought it might’ve been a casual invite to prom now that he had been nominated for king. And I was right to an extent—it was a prom invite, just not for me. Cassidy was grounded from all media outlets, like the phone, email, Facebook, etc., so it would make sense that Ethan would email me to ask her for him. The lucky girl! Her birthday was actually the night of prom, so I was positive my parents would relent and let her go, just this once. Plus there was the added fact that they adored Ethan.

Needless to say Cassidy was all smiles, bragging, and giddy giggles. She was so happy about Ethan asking her to prom that I really couldn’t be too jealous or sad. With all of the gossip that was going around school about her, she needed to feel special. It took three days of begging but my parents finally agreed to let her go. I think what closed the deal for them was that Cassidy was able to borrow a dress from one of her friends. So with the security of not having to buy an extra dress this year, Cass was free to go. Thank goodness no one commented on my peculiar lack of a date. I don’t think I could’ve handled it.

Me not having a date didn’t stop rumors from flying. It was eight days before prom—and exactly one day before my birthday. Imagine my surprise when I saw Kylie sitting in her car in front of my house as I pulled into the driveway after ballet. What is she doing here?

I got out of the Volvo, grabbed my gear, and headed over to Kylie’s car to see if she needed something. By the time I had made it halfway down the driveway, she was heading up. She looked totally bent—completely ticked off—so I decided to stand my ground and wait for her. From the look on her face, this would not be a sweet little chat. What gives? I noticed she was wearing her cheerleading workout clothes.

“Hi, Kylie.” I smiled. Maybe I can kill her with kindness.

She got right to the point. “Look, we need to talk.” Then she smiled her beauty queen smile at me.

“Great.” My smile got wider. “Would you like to go inside?”

Kylie looked up at the house and sneered.

Careful, dear, someone might see your true character.

Then she turned back to me, her smile in place. “No thank you. Out here is fine.” She pointed to my front lawn. “I don’t plan on being here that long anyway.”

“Fine.” I walked over to my mom’s bench and dropped my ballet bag on it. When I’d turned around, Kylie had followed. “So what do you want?” I placed my hands on my hips.

“I want you to stop this lie that you’ve been spreading around, that’s what.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

I expected Kylie to elaborate, but she didn’t, so I finally asked, “What lie? What are you talking about?” All pretense of a smile was gone from her face.

Kylie looked like she was going to freak out. “What do you mean what lie? You know perfectly well what I’m