Impostor by Jill Hathaway

our house. I don’t know what her intentions are. But I swear to myself that I will find out.
    I hear a drawer slam shut inside the room, so I race down the hallway. I casually act as though I’m coming out of my room and heading to the bathroom when Lydia comes out of my dad’s room and shuts the door.
    “Oh,” she says when she sees me. “I was just putting away some laundry.”
    She beams at me, and all I can think is that I’ve never seen a more fake smile in my entire life.

Chapter Twelve
    I ’m sitting in Mrs. Winger’s room, waiting for class to begin. Samantha swoops in and sits next to me. “Wait until you see Regina,” she says wickedly.
    “What did you do?” My stomach is in knots as I go over our plan in my head.
    “I helped her get in touch with her inner vixen,” she says. “There’s no way Scotch will turn her down.”
    At that moment, the bell rings, and Mrs. Winger claps to get everyone’s attention. Samantha slides out of the seat next to me and crosses the room to sit at her own desk. Throughout the period, Samantha keeps looking my way and smiling mischievously.
    After class, she grabs my elbow and steers me toward the freshman hallway. I see a cluster of freshman girls, and in the middle is one I barely recognize. Samantha has straightened Regina’s curly hair, giving her a more sophisticated look. Instead of the barely-there lip gloss and mascara, Samantha has lined Regina’s eyes with a pencil as black as coal and stained her lips a dark red.
    I realize Samantha loaned Regina some of her clothes. A black miniskirt and a tight tank top with spaghetti straps. She’s wearing strappy black sandals on her feet. She looks like she’s at least nineteen. She’ll be lucky if she goes an hour without getting busted for violating dress code.
    “Doesn’t she look great?” Samantha dances around. The girls surrounding Regina agree, telling Samantha what a fantastic job she did and all demanding that they get the next makeover.
    “How do you feel?” I ask Regina.
    Her eyes are wide, but she shakes her head slightly and I can almost hear her calling on her inner vixen. “I feel good. Let’s do this.” She’s looking over my shoulder at someone down the hall. When I turn, I see Scotch sauntering toward us with one of his football buddies.
    “Are you sure?” I ask.
    Regina takes a deep breath and risks a look at Samantha, who claps her on the back. “Definitely.”
    She pushes past me, as if she’s afraid to wait a second longer in case her determination fades. The group of girls that had gathered around her watches her glide through the hallway and up to Scotch Becker. Sam and I duck around the corner and peek out. I can’t hear what she says, but Scotch looks down at her, transfixed. The guy he was walking with yawns and salutes Scotch before disappearing into a classroom.
    It seems Samantha’s handiwork has paid off when Scotch pulls out his phone and appears to enter Regina’s number. Then he leans down and whispers something in her ear. She flashes him a big smile, then turns and comes back toward us. Scotch deposits his phone back into his pocket and disappears into the classroom.
    “So?” Samantha demands when Regina returns.
    “It’s a date,” Regina says. I can’t help but notice that her face is a little pale, despite the foundation Samantha caked onto it. A twinge of guilt passes through me, but then I remind myself that I’m not just doing this for the girls who Scotch has already hurt. It’s for Regina, too, and all the girls he might hurt in the future.
    “It’s a date,” Samantha repeats and then holds her hand up for a high five. It takes me a minute, but then I smack her hand with my own.
     
    After school, I get my backpack from my locker and head down the hall to meet up with Rollins. I’m not sure whether I want to tell him about tonight’s plan. He’ll have his radio show, and I don’t want him to worry about me all night when he’s supposed to