Project Paper Doll by Stacey Kade Page B

revenge scam.” She glanced out into the hallway, probably checking the time on the wall clock. It was getting close to the bell. There were fewer people passing by, not as many lockers slamming shut.
    “I think we should go through with it,” I said. “Not all of it, obviously. Not the end. But the rest of it.”
    She stared up at me for a long moment, her evaluating gaze so intense it felt like she was looking through rather than at me. “You’re serious,” she said finally, with the air of someone solving an equation and being faintly surprised by the results.
    “Yeah.” Did she think I was going to all this trouble for fun?
    She shook her head in disbelief. “Why?”
    My mouth tightened. Because Rachel had crossed the line. She’d used my real life as part of one her stupid ploys. But I wasn’t going to get into all of that with Ariane Tucker. “It’s a long story. But the short version is, I think she needs to see she can’t mess with people like that.”
    “Uh-huh.” Ariane sounded skeptical, but she wasn’t walking away. Maybe this would work after all. “What are you proposing?” she asked cautiously.
    Yes. Now I had her.
    I shrugged, forcing myself not to look too eager. I didn’t want to scare her off. “Easy. We take the drama out of it. We play along until the end. Then when she wants a big show, some loud, humiliating scene, we just shake hands and walk away.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the most exciting plan ever, but it was pretty good considering I’d only come up with it ten minutes ago in the parking lot. And besides, it would drive Rachel crazy . Especially when, if I knew her, she’d be spreading the word for everyone to watch for a big blowup at her “social event of the year” Bonfire party. If it fizzled like a wet sparkler, she’d be completely humiliated. And it would serve her right.
    Ariane frowned. “Why don’t you just tell her no? Why go to all this trouble?”
    Oh. I hadn’t been expecting that question. I’d kind of been betting on her hatred of Rachel to make this a quick sell. And the answer…I wasn’t sure if I had an answer other than I didn’t want Jonas to do it. But I couldn’t say that; it would only bring up more questions. Among them, why did I care what Jonas did with Ariane? And answering that would mean sharing more about my life—my dad, Rachel, all of it—than I was comfortable with at this particular moment.
    I hesitated. “It’s complicated,” I said for the second time in one conversation.
    Ariane eyed me with more than a hint of disdain. “Sounds like a cop-out to me.”
    “Whatever.” I wasn’t doing this for a life lesson from Ariane Tucker. “Are you in or not?”
    She was quiet for a long second. “No,” she said.
    My heart sank.
    “This could all be part of the game,” she pointed out. “You let me in on it only to gain my trust and then pull the carpet out from under me at the last second.”
    That would be completely twisted…and probably not outside the realm of possibility, under other circumstances. But not today. “It’s rug,” I said automatically, my mind spinning, trying to figure out what to say to convince her.
    She frowned. “What?”
    “It’s rug. Pull the rug out.”
    She made a face, and the pink in her cheeks returned.
    “And I’m not going to do that,” I said, trying to sound as convincing as possible without pleading. “You have to trust me.”
    “I don’t.” Then she turned on her heel and joined the much-diminished traffic.
    Crap. I stepped out after her. “If you don’t do this, she’ll come after you another way,” I called. “Rachel won’t give up. She’ll find your weak spot and make sure it hurts.” She excelled at that.
    Ariane paused and looked back at me, a bitter weariness in her expression. “Believe me, I know.” Then she disappeared around the corner as the tardy bell rang.

P ULL THE RUG OUT, NOT THE CARPET. You know better . I kicked myself mentally for that