First Impressions: A YA Twist on Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 1

It's a truth universally acknowledged that if a guy is hot, popular, and single, then he's just dying to ask a nerdy girl to prom—if only she'd take off her glasses and let her hair down.

That's the script that sells in Hollywood, anyway.

I don't need hot or popular. I'd be fine with someone who's smart and nice and thinks a cool Saturday afternoon means knitting and watching Frozen together. Is there, like, a cafeteria table where those guys hang out?

My best friend Cherry throws her backpack down and takes a seat in the bleachers. "I heard they're announcing the prom theme at the end of the rally!" she says.

"Already?" my sister Jane asks because prom is months away.

"Oh, it's starting!" Cherry pulls Jane and me to our feet just as the football players run onto the gym floor and smash through a paper banner that reads "School Spirit and Prom Rally!!!" The cheerleaders follow, creating a wave of orange and black, and the bleachers around us vibrate with stomping feet and screams.

"So. Project Prom," Cherry says. "We have to pick dates, fast."

Cherry announced in September that our goal for junior year is to snag prom dates. It's a junior-senior prom, so this is the first year she and I can go. Since Jane's a senior, she went last year, but of course she wants to go her senior year

"I call John Ramos." Cherry leans past me to gawk at him. "I've always thought he was cute."

But then John turns and kisses the girl sitting next to him.

"Eh," Cherry says. "He's not that great, actually. Who else? We have to hurry. Only 71 shopping days left."

"For boys or dresses?" Jane asks.

"For men, Jane. Men."

I laugh. "Pretty sure you're not going to find any of those around here." Especially since I just watched the guy a few rows down take the gum out of his mouth and stick it to the bottom of the bleachers.

But Cherry's scanning the crowded gym as if all she has to do is point to a guy and click "add to cart."

"You promised you'd try, Libby," Cherry says. "Trying means looking hot." She reaches up to undo my hair clip, letting my dark curls loose. If I wore glasses, I'm sure she'd take those off too.

I grab the clip from her and gather my messy hair back up. "I'm trying!" Sort of. "But I want to go with someone I actually like."

"OK." I laugh a little and play along. "Here's the Nice Guy one, and the Has to be At Least Sort of Cute one." I pretend drop my standards into her bag. "This is the Doesn't Make Me Cringe and Want to Die Every Time He Talks one, and here's the Has At Least Three Brain Cells one."

"My gosh. You'd go on forever." She closes the imaginary bag and pretends to throw it over her shoulder. "There. No more standards. Now you can actually get a date."

I look behind her. "I only wanted three brain cells."

"No, you want about a million. You're the pickiest person ever. Who's Teo waving at?" She points to the middle of the gym floor, where Teo—pronounced Tay-o—is waving his arms over his head, trying to get someone's attention. Around him, his teammates toss footballs back and forth, while the cheerleaders launch into handsprings and cartwheels.

I glance over to see Jane moving her fingers in a small wave. No way.

"Jane," I ask. "Is he waving at you?"

Jane lowers her hand quickly, a soft smile spreading over her face. "I think so. He's cute, right?"

"Um, he's so hot you could boil water on him," Cherry says.