Art Geeks and Prom Queens by Alyson Noël Page A

technique.
    “Sorry.” She shrugs. “My wrong.” She starts scooping up a pile of receipts, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
    And of course I just can’t let it go. “Why?” I ask. “Does Jas think I like him? I mean, did he say something to you? What did he say?” I’m clearly out of control, but I just can’t stop.
    Then the second she starts to answer, Kristi yells, “Brazil! I can’t believe you walked out on us while we were totally serenading you!”
    I turn to see my three new friends standing in the doorway.
    “Um, I should go,” I say, slipping off the ring and dropping it back in the little ceramic bowl by the register.
    “Yeah, I guess you should,” Mason says, raising an eyebrow at them.
     
    I catch up with Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen in this outside courtyard, which is also called the “Living Room,” and they’re all standing there, hands on hips, totally glaring at me.
Jeez, are they really this upset ‘cause I bailed on their little karaoke session?
    “Hey,” I say, nervously facing them.
    “Hey,” says Kristi, while Kayla and Jen Jen look at the ground.
    “What’s going on?” I ask.
    “Well,” Kristi says, “I know you’re new and all, and I’m not sure how to say this, but you probably don’t want to be all friendly with Mason.” She gives me a hard look.
    “Why? She seems really nice.” I mean, what could she possibly mean by that?
    “Well, you’ve only known her for like a week, and we’ve known her for, like,
ever.
And let me tell you that she’s totally weird and disturbed.”
    “Weird, how?” I ask, shifting my bag to my other shoulder, and looking at Kayla and Jen Jen who are very busy studying their cuticles.
    “Just spooky, fucking freaky weird, okay?” Kristi says, rolling her eyes. “She wears weirdo used clothes, and sometimes I catch her—” she stops and looks around. “Watching us,” she whispers. “And it totally creeps me out.”
    “Watching
you guys?
” I ask, ‘cause to be honest I find that hard to believe.
    “Yes?
” she says, rolling her eyes. “She’s like a—what do you call those people that watch you all the time? Stalker?”
    “Voyeur,” I say.
    “Well, she’s a stalker-voyeur,” Kristi says, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.
    “She’s like a total lesbo, too,” Kayla says, making a face and shivering.
    “You guys are wrong. I know for a fact that she has a boyfriend. She’s not gay. But who cares if she was?” I add.
    “That’s disgusting.” Jen Jen gives me a harsh look, as Kristi and Kayla shake their heads.
    They’re all lined up like a Juicy Couture firing squad, giving me this awful death stare. And deep down inside I know I should just walk away, and totally blow them off, because what they’re saying is clearly wrong.
    But instead, I just stand there. Because being friends with them is a really big deal. It guarantees a date for every dance, plans for every weekend, and the envy of everyone who doesn’t belong. I mean, if someone as perfect as Kristi wants to hang with me, then it must mean I have the potential to be perfect, too.
    “Listen,” Kristi says, smiling. “I’m just telling you this for your own good. It’s hard to know who to hang with when you’re brand-new. We’re just trying to help you make the right choices before it’s too late.” Then she puts her arm around my shoulder and says, “Now let’s bail out of this psycho place and try on some makeup at the
real mall
.”

Sixteen
    So after getting full-on makeovers at Sephora, Kristi pulls into my driveway and goes, “Are your parents home?”
    I shake my head. “My dad’s in New York, and my mom’s probably with your mom at that yogalates studio.”
    “Good, ‘cause I’m dying to check out your house.” She opens her car door and gets out.
    “Okay.” I shrug. “But it’s not like there’s much to see. It’s mostly not decorated still.”
    “That’s okay,” she says, rushing in front of