Just Revenge

Chapter Five: Phase Two, actually

Abbi picked me up for rehearsal the next day. She'd only gotten her license the year before, and she was still in that stage where she looks for any excuse to drive her car somewhere. She had this pretty blue Malibu that she refused to name because she was way too good for that type of thing.

The second I slid into her shotgun seat, the interrogation began.

"So, did we actually begin Phase Two yesterday or was all of this game plan just talk?"

"Shut up!" I tapped her shoulder because I wasn't certain a real shove wouldn't result in a car crash, "Besides, I totally did start Phase Two. Kind of."

"What the hell's kind of supposed to mean?"

"It means that Max wasn't called yesterday so I didn't make contact with him, but I did talk to Cortland and Aurora and Harper and those other two whose names I get confused because they were called. So, I kind of started it."

At the red light, Abbi looked over at me, taking in the denim shorts and hippie off-the-shoulder top, "Judging by your break from the homeless trend, I'm guessing Max is called today."

"I don't dress homeless." Although my usual wardrobe did consist of pretty much exclusively leggings – even in summer – and baggy shirts, "But yes. He is going to be there today. And Phase Two will officially begin.

She paused for a second before responding, "And you're sure you're ready for this?"

"Yeah. This part's easy, it's just a lot of talking."

Abbi pulled the car into a spot near the park and turned her body to face me, "Sweetie, the talking is the hard part." Then she grabbed the door handle and threw the door open. Self-consciously, I gave my shorts a final, desperate tug straighter, threw my head back and mirrored her walk up the hill to rehearsal.

Now, I feel like I should get this part straight before we go any farther. I'm used to being looked at. My best friend is a knockout with long, slender legs, longer honey colored hair – not honey-blonde, but the actual brown shade of honey – and the kind of confidence that convinces you she owns the world. My other closest friend is the tiny, nerdy cute girl with hipster glasses, dark-brown hair that curls just above her mid-back and the kind of style that can only be found in the little boys' section of H&M. My friends attract a lot of attention for how they look. If you're into the hot, eye grabbing looks – Abbi's for you. If you like the more subdued, girl next door adorable kind of thing – Lista's got you covered. But the best thing anyone's ever said about my looks was I looked so "relatable". I got stared at for my witch's cackle that came out when I laughed too hard or the sarcastic, sassy comments that I made, but my comfy clothes and messy bun never seemed to draw too much attention to me.

I never thought that clothes mattered too much. But, yeah, that changed.

I walked up to rehearsal with my shorts and white, flowy top – my hair still tucked in its messy bun – and the first thing anyone says to me is my friend Emma going: "Did you try today?"

Honestly. Sometimes I really hate people.

But I tried not to let that slip through, I had a show to put on. So, I rolled my eyes lightly and laughed her comment off, sliding into the spot next to the oak tree I had claimed the day before. Max's group was shifted just a little from where they'd been so Abbi and I could still hear their conversations but weren't actually included in the group.

To be fair, I spent the first couple minutes trying to find a good reason to include myself in their conversation when, surprisingly enough, Aurora spoke up first.

"Carmen, your shirt's really cute. Is it new?"

Now, at first, I was confused because, you see, my friends don't really do the whole compliment you without also insulting you thing because we're all terrible people, but this girl seemed genuine so it kind of threw me for a loop. But I'd been looking for an opening, so I took the one that had presented itself to me.

"Yeah. I've never worn anything like it before. It's so weird."

She responded with this smile that felt like it belonged on a Disney princess, "Oh, it looks so good on you though. You should definitely wear more stuff like it."

I think it might've been the Disney smile, but the whole thing got kind of uncomfortable for a sec and, opening or no opening, I didn't know what happened next, so I went with the awkward smile.

"Thanks."

"Wow. You look uncomfortable. Haven't you ever heard a compliment before?" Cortland's piercing tone sounded so aggressive next to Aurora's sweet one.

I opened my mouth to respond, but somebody else got there first.

"Maybe she hasn't. It's not every day you see a good person in the world. Ror's special like that" and with that, Max Casella tapped Aurora's shoulder, and everybody laughed – no joke necessary.

See, Max Casella isn't the type of kid popular for his looks or his talent or his money or whatever petty surface crap people get popular for. He was popular because he was likeable. Because he could have a two-minute conversation with a rock and, afterwards, the rock would feel like a superstar. He could put anyone at ease and make anyone laugh and, even though it was obvious how hard some of his jokes were trying, it still came off easy and comfortable. It was why Harper had gone out with him, it was why she wanted him back, and it was why I wanted to steal him first. So, I laughed too. I smiled wide with the rest of the group. And Phase Two officially began.