The Popularity Project (Originally on Quotev)

Chapter Eleven

"Step away from her." I scrambled farther away from Nathan, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and I. The cold wooden floor was impacting me through my skinny jeans and freezing my butt a bit but I didn't dare stand.
 
He snorted and I was suddenly forgotten as he got in Matt's face, "What you going to do about it nerd? Challenge me to a spelling bee?" He laughed cockily at his own stupid joke.
 
"Me? Nothing. They are though." He jerked a thumb behind himself to where the entire wrestling team stood. "Now. Are you going to apologize to her and leave? Or do we have to make this hard?"
 
Nathan put his hands in the air and started backing away to the stairs, "Fine. I was just having a little fun. I'll get you later." I shivered violently at the statement directed towards me and was pulled vertical again by one of the boys.
 
I looked down at Kyle who was slowly regaining conscience, "Thank you guys so much. Imagine what could have happened if you had showed up five minutes later." I waved at the ten or so guys, "Oh and I'm Abigail. Can you guys help me with him?"
 
Two of the wrestlers stepped forward and heaved Kyle up, "We'll go put him in one of those rooms."
 
"Thanks again." They smiled and took him to one of the bedrooms.
 
"Hey Abigail can I speak to you for a second?" I nodded, uncertain, and followed him further down the hallway. Matt didn't know Abby, why would he want to speak to her? A lesson on how to stop guys doing bad stuff to you against your will? I doubted it.
 
I leaned against the cream colored wall, "What do you need to talk to me about?"
 
He dropped his voice to a whisper, "I know it's you, Alex."
 
I jerked out of my casual position, "What?" I felt my heart racing in under the silver shirt I had on, "What do you mean? I told you, my name's Abigail. I moved here a few weeks ago."
 
"A, you can stop pretending. I figured it out. You said you were at your cousin's house so I looked it up and it was directly in the blast zone and I just knew no one would be able to survive that. Yet you were calling me."
 
I felt my hand go to my mouth, "So my aunt, uncle and cousin are-" I had to force the last word out, "-dead?"
 
Matt nodded sadly, "Yeah. Alex, I am so sorry. But that's how I knew. And of course 'Abigail' looked so much like you and you had all the same classes so it wasn't difficult to figure it out after that point. So this was for the essay right? Isn't making a false identity illegal or something?" I shrugged. I mean Uncle Sam agreed to it so it must not be. "Oh and can I just say you really know how to change your appearance as well. Like you were extremely pretty before but now, wow is the only word for it. No wonder lover boy likes you so much."
 
My eyebrows drew together, "Lover boy? You mean Kyle?"
 
"Yeah. But he doesn't really know you like I do, does he? He doesn't know the girl behind all the clothes and makeup. He doesn't know how you'd rather read a book than go a party. You'd choose play video games over going on a date and you wouldn't even hesitate with the decision of either watching a Disney marathon or a football game. He doesn't know the girl who's my best friend. Alex, he doesn't know you like I do. I don't know why you like him so much. He likes the fake image you made. I like you for the real you, the natural you."
 
I sighed, he was right; Kyle doesn't realize that I'm not who I make myself out to be. I'm not girly or preppy and I wouldn't be caught dead in the dress I wore yesterday. "It's not completely a fake image though. The outside is, but with him I'm just being my normal self. I sort of like this new look as well, it makes me feel more confident and in control."
 
Matt's eyes searched my face almost as if he were trying to figure something out, "Just tell me when you decide who you like better. Keep in mind that you're the only girl I've ever really liked." I fiddled with the necklace Kyle had bought me, feeling a bit guilty and a lot confused as Matt hugged me.
 
"I'm going to go check on Kyle." Matt said goodbye in this tone that gave off an extremely sad vibe as I went into the room where the wrestling guys had laid Kyle down. He was sat on the bed wiping the blood from his face with a towel he must have found in the bathroom. "Hi."
 
He cringed when he tried to touch his nose, "Oh hey. Are you okay?"
 
"Yeah. Thanks for trying to save me. How's your nose?" I lowered myself onto the mattress beside him and tried to clean his face up the best I could.
 
"I'm alright. I think it's just bruised not broken. I just want to go punch that creep back though for scaring you. When we do tackling in practice next week he's going to be my first victim."
 
I laughed, wound the towel into a ball and threw into the laundry basket by the door, "Do you want to go now? I don't know about you but I'm finished partying for the night."
 
"Wait I need to try something first." I went back to my spot and looked at him, slightly puzzled at what he wanted to do. Kyle took my face in his hands and kissed me softly, to which I replied after recovering from shock. When he eventually pulled back, I was disappointed.
 
I adjusted my shirt, smiling, "Well."
 
"Well." Kyle's grin was big enough that I feared it would crack his face, "Abby, will you be my girlfriend?"
 
My eyes widened. That was just about as unexpected as the kiss. I was literally lost for words. Who did I like more? Matt or Kyle? Both were funny and nice. Both made me happy. But this was Abby, not Alex. Abby didn't know, let alone like, Matt. I had to focus on the essay goal: fitting in with the populars and finding viable facts that can prove my thesis. So I did what Abigail would have done and answered, "Of course. I'd love to." He kissed me again and I tried to push Matt out of my mind.
 
I can deal with this later when I'm Alex again, but for now I'm still Abby and I had to play by her rules. If anyone had told me a few months ago I'd be answering to a girly, popular version of myself on the topic of whether I like a guy who doesn't know the real me or my best friend, I'd probably suggest they take a little holiday to a mental institution.
 
What has my life become?