What If... All the Rumors Were True by Liz Ruckdeschel

Delgado has arrived in Hillsdale with all the subtlety of a steamroller—and she’s about to flatten Haley’s ego, along with that of every other girl at Hillsdale High who stands in the beautiful vixen’s way. Understandably, Haley is threatened by the new diva on the block. But what exactly is going on between Mia and Sebastian? Rumors are flying—everything from barely speaking all summer to spending weeks frolicking seminude on the beach.
    Perhaps Mia is an unstoppable force, and Haley should throw in the towel and try to forget the Iberian
modelo
even exists. Especially with that cute prepster Alex Martin eyeing Haley from a distance.
    If you think the wisest course for our heroine is to hang with the brainy kids, "IT’S DEBATABLE" . If you think Haley should keep an eye on Mia’s antics—and maybe even throw a wrench into her plans for total high school domination—have Haley nab a part in the school play on "CASTING CALL" . Maybe you think what’s really at stake here is Sebastian—does Mia have a firm hold on him or not? Is he still interested in Haley? Is Haley interested in him? Send her to the "SWIM MEET" to find out.
    Haley should have known she couldn’t be the new girl forever. But the flavor of the month lasts only…a month. After that, it’s time to find a more permanent identity—or get lost in the crowd.

THE BAG LADY

    Handbags can be practical, pretty or political—but they always make a statement.
    â€œT wo trips to the mall in one month,” Haley’s mother grumbled. “I should just rip off this
Protect the Pine Barrens
button from my lapel and replace it with an
I Support the Malls of America
pin.”
    â€œThis was your idea, Mom,” Haley said. Of course, Haley realized she might have had something to do with suggesting it.
    Haley’s old backpack was so worn it had a hole in the bottom—a tiny hole that Haley had “accidentally” poked at all summer until it got big enough for, oh, her house keys to slip through. Once the tear was of a suitable size, she gave it a test run by tossing her keys into the bag. They hit the floor in seconds.
Perfect,
she thought, putting the next phase of her plan into action.
    One morning before school, Haley waited until her mother was in the kitchen before gathering up her things to leave. She then picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, just as the keys, on cue, dropped at Joan’s feet.
    â€œWhat was that?” Haley’s mother said, frowning.
    Haley bent down and picked up the keys. “Huh,” she said. “How did that happen?” She turned over her backpack and made a big show of peering through the hole in the bottom as if staring down a bottomless abyss. “Hey, there’s a hole in my backpack.”
    â€œI could install a magnet in there if you want, Haley,” Mitchell said helpfully. “It will help keep your keys inside that holey backpack, where they belong. Plus, that way you can find them easily. They’re always in the right place.”
    Haley gave a look intended to silence her gadget-minded little brother.
    â€œLet me see.” Joan took the backpack and examined it. “Maybe I can get this patched up somewhere.”
    Patched up?
That was not in the plan. Backpacks were so over at Hillsdale. Everyone she knew, from the often fashion-challenged Annie Armstrong to the fashion rebel Irene Chen, had a different kind of bag for carrying around their tons of stuff—a statement bag, a huge shoulder bag that held everything one would need to live on for up to three days. Backpacks were for middle-schoolers.
    â€œIf you put a magnet in there you won’t need to patch it,” Mitchell persisted. “Unless of course the hole was big enough for the magnet to fall through. Then we would have a problem.”
    â€œNo magnets,” Haley said. “And no patches, please. Don’t you know how many