I have known him for ten years! I can't just throw our friendship away. And yet, Mallie thinks I should. She thinks that just because Eben did one stupid thing, I should be done with him forever. Yes, he shouldn't have spread that awful rumor about Mallie and I, but sometimes, we just have to forgive and forget, right? Well, tomorrow I'll see what he's acting like. Maybe I'll have to listen to Mallie after all… but I hope not!

The next day, I walk into school, my heavy, bright yellow backpack hanging off one shoulder. Mallie comes up to me, the same backpack slung across her back, with a sad look on her face.

"Archer sent me this," she says, the texts from her boyfriend filling the screen. It reads, 'Hey, Babe, I just heard Eben talking trash about you and your best friend. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Honey, but it looks like he's truly dissing on you two.' Mallie looks me in the eye. The telltale I was right smirk is spreading across her face.

"Was I right, or was I right?" she says. I shake my head, pulling out my own phone. Sure enough, a text from Archer also appears. Same message, but no 'Babe' or 'Honey'. I turn to Mallie, and she looks at me expectantly.

"How do we know that Archer isn't lying?" I ask, hating how skeptical I sound.

"Archie would never lie to me!" Mallie exclaims. I sigh, and start to walk away as the bell rings.

"Monica!" Mallie calls, but I don't answer. She grumbles audibly and storms off to her homeroom. I calm myself down, and then walk into mine.

After school, I corner Eben in the hallway.

"Okay," I say, "why did you spread that rumor? Why would you say something so untrue?" Eben looks at me, his head cocked to one side. I wait for his answer, annoyed when he stays silent. Finally, he says,

"I don't have time for you two anymore. I've… upgraded." I squint at him in confusion, but then it becomes clear when Veronica Schulte, the most popular sophomore girl ever, comes over and slips her arm into Eben's. I gasp in anger. Mallie was right!

I make a decision right then and there.

"This is war," I growl, and then storm away. I don't care how I do it, but I will push Eben down- and find a way to the top.

I meet up with Archer and Mallie that night to make amends and make plans. They both suggest the same thing- if I start dating a super popular guy, I'll become popular as well.

The most popular guy in our school, (a junior considering the fact that all the seniors are dorky nerds) is named Jake Easton. He is the one that every girl dreams of. A while back, he proclaimed that he had not yet found the girl he wanted. Mallie hatches a marvelous plan for how to get Jake to like me. I'm not sure it will work, but I agree to try. Mallie decides to come over to my house the next morning.

This morning, Mallie comes over with all of her stuff. She sits me down in front of my mirror, taking out her curling iron, makeup, and nail polish.

"I don't want you to look fake," she says, "but I am going to jazz you up a bit." First, she picks out a cute outfit for me to wear (modest ripped jeans and a white t-shirt with a faux black leather jacket). She curls the ends of my caramel-colored hair so it falls in soft waves down my back. Then, she paints my nails the color of the sand on a beach. Finally, she applies bronze eyeshadow, black eyeliner and mascara, light blush, and Sephora Infinite Rose lip gloss. I look in the mirror, and it still looks like me, just… a little fancier.

"Okay, stop admiring your reflection and grab your backpack, slowpoke!" Mallie says, grabbing my backpack from its hook on the wall. Her matching one already rests on her shoulder. She grabs my arm and pulls me out the door.


We get to school just as the first bell rings. Once I put my stuff away, I rush to homeroom with Mrs. Cass. She takes roll, and I use the time to survey the room. I notice several guys who never notice me checking me out today, and I text Mallie to let her know that her plan is working on at least some of the boys. Then the bell rings and I walk to my AP Chemistry class, my heavy books in the backpack I am still carrying.

I am the only sophomore in this class; the rest are juniors. Luck is with me; Jake Easton is one of them. I’m thinking about how convenient this is when our teacher makes it even more convenient. She has created a seating chart we must use, and Jake and I are sitting together.

We are at the back of the classroom, the other pairs in front of us. Jake sits down at his desk and drops his backpack on the floor with a loud thud. He has dark brown hair that is messily styled in a way that makes him even more handsome. His eyes are a dreamy green, and he’s wearing jeans and an NF t-shirt. He turns and sees me staring at him, and I quickly turn away, focusing on the rest of the students in the class. Delia Risa is Hispanic, and she’s wearing a flowery dress that is way nicer than anything I would wear. Her black hair falls in ringlets down past her waist, and her eyes are the most beautiful chestnut color. Jonathan Reeves is popular, (though not as much as Jake), with blond, wavy hair and blue eyes. He has a white tee with an unbuttoned flannel over it and khakis on. His feet are propped up on his desk and he appears to be asleep. Natia-Rose Lee is a foreign exchange student from Japan. She is wearing a hot pink, oversized sweater and skinny jeans. Her accent is the sweetest thing ever! Her hair is in a bob, with bangs across her forehead. Everytime I see her in the hallway, she waves and says hi. We all call her Rosie. Leon Banks is a nerd. He is not popular at all, his hair is disgusting, and I have never talked to him once. Delia always talks to him out of pity.

Mrs. Alex clears her throat and crosses to the front of the room.

“I made a seating chart based on who you don’t seem to know that well. I think that it will do you well to go out of your comfort zones and interact with someone new. Therefore, the person seated next to you will also be your lab partner for the rest of the year. Spend the rest of class today getting to know them.” She turns away and walks back to her desk, a triumphant smile on her face.

I turn to Jake, surprised to see him already looking at me. Over at the other tables, Delia is shaking Jonathan awake, and Rosie is staring at Leon with a slightly nauseated expression. Well, I think, at least I’m off to a better start than them.

“Hi, I’m Monica Abbey,” I say.

“I know,” Jake replies.

“Oh, right. My name’s on the board,” I laugh.

“Well, true, but I know your name because you’re the smartest sophomore at this school. You are the only sophomore in this class, aren’t you?” I nod, thinking, Wow, he’s actually nice. It’s sad he’s just a part of our plan. Clearing these thoughts from my head, I say,

“Well, I know your name, and not just because your name’s on the board. I guess it’s pretty convenient to be the most popular guy in the entire school, huh?”

"Yeah, it kinda is," he laughs. "Anyway, tell me more about yourself. I don't really know anything about you except that you're smart."

"Well, I'm not super popular, but I'm not low on the ladder, either. So like, not your level, but not Leon, either. Maybe… like Delia?" Jake nods as if he understands what I'm saying.

"That's pretty good," he says.

"Anyway," I continue, "my best friend is Malibu O'Brien, but she goes by Mallie. Do you know who she is?" He nods, saying,

"Black hair, thinks she's always right, dating Archer Tuesday?" I laugh,

"That's her. So anyway, she's my best friend, and I'm pretty close with Archer as well. And then, of course, we come to Eben Davis. He used to be the other member in our squad, but just recently he started going out with Veronica Schulte, and now he says he's 'upgraded' from Mallie and I. And apparently, that justifies him spreading lies about us." I roll my eyes, trying to act as if it's not a big deal, but Jake says,

"That is not cool at all." I nod my head,

"Tell me about it. Okay, back to me, I like singing and dancing. I also play basketball, and I'm pretty good, if I do say so myself." Jake laughs, and I grin as well. "Anyway, Jake, tell me about you."

"Well, Monica, as you said before, I'm the most popular guy in the school. It can be kinda intimidating, actually. Being popular ends up being full of masks and charades." I nod my head, assuring him that I know that he's talking about.

"Don't worry," I say, "I think we all feel that sometimes."

"Thanks. When I'm not behind a mask, I enjoy basketball, though usually I can do that and still hold my popularity level. I also love to… you can't tell anyone, Monica!"

"Okay. Your secret, whatever it is, is safe with me."

"I love to…" he trails off again, but gathering his nerve, he says, "to draw. I love to draw." Then he lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes a little.

"I think drawing is pretty cool," I whisper. He whispers back,

"I do, too. Also, I have a kitten named Leeli. She's gray with white stripes." Jake pulls out a picture of his kitten, and she is the cutest thing I have ever seen.

"Awwww," I squeal. Jake laughs and stuffs the photo back in his pocket.

"I keep her in my pocket so she'll always be with me, no matter what," he says. Just as I tell him that that is the sweetest thing ever, Mrs. Alex comes up to the front of the room.

"It appears that the only pair having any luck with getting to know each other are Jake and Monica. Sadly, class is almost over, so I think your homework will be to get to know each other." When Mrs. Alex finishes talking to us, she flops down in her chair as if we are the bane of her existence. Not we, I correct myself, the other pairs. Jake and I are the good kids. As if reading my mind, Jake says,

"We were the good kids, Monica." He nudges my shoulder. I giggle, and as the bell rings, Jake helps me gather up my stuff. As he hands me my books, our hands brush. A feeling like electricity goes through my hands, and I know he feels it, too, when he looks at me with an expression of shock. We stand there, staring at each other, when I come back to myself. It's like waking up from a dream. I start to walk forward, saying,

"I better get to class."

"Yeah, me too." We both start walking, but we collide, and all of our stuff goes flying everywhere. We're the only people left in the room; even Mrs. Alex has left.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."

"No, it's my fault!" he says. He picks up my books again and hands them to me, and I quickly turn and exit. As I leave, I call,

"Thanks!" He smiles and calls,

"Anytime, Monica."