The '68 Camaro Between Kenickie and Me (Pacifica Academy Drama Book 2) Read online

  Oh, shit.

  “Lip sync competition?” Meg faintly said.

  Silence followed and everyone looked at each other, their eyes wide like mine.

  I faced Warren. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “I heard about this.” Lexi picked up the flyer. “Student council is doing the lip sync competition next month instead of their usual, end-of-year talent show.”

  I would’ve felt relieved since the talent show usually featured too many kids with no talent. But I couldn’t believe where Warren and Kassidy were going with this.

  They couldn’t be serious about us being in the competition.

  “You want us to participate in this?” Alisha pointed at the flyer.

  Warren nodded. “I already have ideas for songs, too.”

  I burst into laughter. Our president had clearly lost his mind.

  Paige’s face turned pasty. “I want to help you guys. But there’s no way I can get on a stage and…perform. In front of the entire school.” She glanced at Kassidy. “I’m not like you.”

  “Me, either.” Meg shook her head. “Running in a cross-country meet is one thing, but this is totally different. And how would this help the club?”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Most of the kids who participate will get up there and act…stupid.”

  Warren ignored my bitchy and said, “Participants are allowed up to two-and-a-half minutes for their performances.”

  Meg, Paige and Erin moaned as I growled, “Warren.”

  “I’m not totally against this.” Jade’s shoulders dipped. “But that sounds like a long time.”

  “More like forever,” Erin whispered, her pastiness matching Paige’s.

  “Would you listen?” Warren shot me a dark look, snatched the flyer from Lexi and pointed to a bullet point. “There’s first through third place, and students and teachers vote. But participants can’t vote. They don’t want us voting for ourselves.” He leaned forward. “Think about it. If we get the poll answers we need, change the name and nail this competition, how could we not change Mr. Yates’s mind?” Warren smiled. “I know this will work.”

  I shook my head while keeping my narrowed eyes trained on our insane president.

  Kassidy looked at Paige and Erin and Meg. “I know two-and-a-half minutes sounds like forever. But I swear once you’re up on the stage it’ll seem like seconds. And you have to remember we’ll be up there together.”

  Paige and Erin’s faces relaxed. But only by a fraction.

  Lexi smiled. “I love it! I’m in.”

  I somehow stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

  “Okay. Me, too.” Jade giggled. “Nate’s going to flip when I tell him what we’re doing.”

  No. This could not be happening.

  “Well, if we’re going to do this crazy thing, and nail it, we’ll have to lip sync and dance.”

  I sat up at Alisha’s comment. Because I’d heard enough. “I’m so not doing that. And I hate this idea.” Lip syncing while dancing in front of the entire student body, and the teachers, sounded like a special place in hell I had no interest in visiting.

  “Big surprise there,” Erin muttered.

  I crossed my arms and leaned forward. “You just said you didn’t like the idea of being on stage for that long.”

  “But I didn’t say I hated the idea,” she snapped back.

  “Is everything okay back there?” Ms. Simmons’s raised voice settled around us.

  I continued glaring at Erin until she broke our eye contact.

  Warren turned and smiled. “Just a difference of opinion. We’re fine.” He faced forward. “Like Kass said, we all have to commit. Right now, I have four yays. So, what’s it gonna be?”

  “Please, Meggie? We can do this.”

  Meg sent Kassidy a long, hard stare. And the longer she stayed silent told me she’d choose stage fright over this insane plan. But then she released a tiny smile.

  My shoulders drooped.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Meg mumbled, “but…okay. I just hope stage fright doesn’t kill me.”

  Kassidy and Lexi threw their arms around her.

  Now Warren only needed—

  “Same here.” Erin straightened. “But I’m willing to risk it for the club. I’m in, too.”

  “What do we have to lose?” Alisha shrugged. “Could be fun. But it’s going to take soooo much rehearsing.”

  Was I the only sane person here? And that left Paige and…me.

  “Everyone has to agree before we can talk about that. So Paige?” Warren asked.

  I sent her a wide-eyed, pleading look.

  Surely shy little Paige would stick to her first reaction?

  She hesitated, then said, “I know the stage fright will kill me. But you guys were so great to me in the fall I…can’t say no.”

  Shit.

  Everyone but me clapped. Before all excited eyes settled on me.

  “Madame Veep, we can’t do this without you,” Warren said in a sing-song voice.

  “We don’t want to do this without you, either,” Kassidy added.

  I looked at each one of them.

  I knew what I wanted to say, but couldn’t make the emphatic no come out now that everyone but me had agreed to this plan. Lip syncing and dancing were so not my thing. And in front of the entire school? What would Ella and Quinn think? I cringed thinking about it. But everyone here was counting on me. With the exception of Erin, and sometimes Lexi, I liked all of them, too. I…couldn’t let them down. Especially since four former members had come back to help. My conscience would never let it go.

  So I did the only thing I could. I sighed, rolled my eyes and asked, “When are you guys planning on starting rehearsals? Because I’m grounded right now.”

  Laughter and more clapping filled the classroom.

  “But who’s going to teach us to dance? And together while lip syncing?” My question sounded snarky, but it felt fair since no one had brought that up.

  “I can do it,” Lexi murmured. “I’ve been in dance since I was six.”

  Silence fell, and I scanned everyone’s faces. Based on their expressions, no one else had known this about Lexi. And a bit of warmth spread through me knowing I wasn’t the only one with a private side.

  “Aren’t you full of surprises. And fabulousness.”

  I focused on Warren whose Joker grin had returned.

  “How come you’ve never mentioned this before?” Jade asked.

  “It’s for fun. Not a big deal.” She started playing with that same lock of hair. “But I know enough to give us a chance in the competition.”

  “That’s all we need,” Warren answered. “And I get telling boyfriends, but I wanna keep this quiet for as long as we can. Better chance of blowing minds in a month. So boyfriends are a part of what happens in the club stays in the club. Anything else?”

  Our silence being Warren’s answer.

  “Okay. Now we can talk about music.”

  As I listened to everyone throw out suggestions of Top 40 pop songs I wouldn’t listen to if my life were being threatened, I wanted to take back saying yes to this competition.

  We were definitely going to have a huge problem agreeing on a song.

  Chapter 7

  I followed the sound of my mother’s voice into the sunlit kitchen. I didn’t hear my dad’s voice, which meant she had to be on the phone.

  The squeaky-clean room smelled of lemon and bleach. Between the smell and every surface shining under the sunlight streaming through the windows, it felt like I’d walked into a Mr. Clean commercial. My mother had this place cleaned every other week, whether they were in town or not. Even my bedroom, on the other side of the kitchen, smelled like lemon. I’d gone to bed with a headache because of the smell and woken up with it.

  I so needed aspirin and coffee before I started day two of community service. But when I saw her sitting on the red padded bench beside the dining-room windows that had a spectacular view of the buil
ding next door, I stopped.

  She was yakking away on her cell while still in her nightgown and matching robe.

  I rolled my eyes and continued walking toward her.

  She glanced sideways, then stared at me like the equally shiny hardwood floors had suddenly given birth to me.

  “Why aren’t you ready?” I heard the edge in my voice, and based on the way her mouth hardened she didn’t appreciate it. But I could’ve cared less. “I have community service this morning.” Because you had to save face with Mrs. Meridian.

  She said into her phone, “Can I call you back? My daughter needs me.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I crossed my arms. “Just to take me to school.”

  She ended her call, set her phone down, and looked me up and down. “I forgot. But it’s just something else you can hold against me. It also explains why you’re dressed like that.” She scanned me again. “Did you at least wash your face and brush your teeth? And please stand up straight.”

  I straightened and muttered, “Yes. I did.”

  So what if I had on an older pair of skinny jeans, my worn Pacifica Academy hoodie and had my hair pulled up in a knot? I didn’t look that bad. And what the hell did the beauty queen know about manual labor?

  “We need to go. Now. I want to stop at Starbucks—”

  “You’ll have to drive yourself since I’m nowhere near ready.”

  My mouth fell open.

  She couldn’t be serious. Parking around the school could be a real bitch since it didn’t have an actual lot. I also had another problem. “You know I’m terrible at parallel parking.” In fact, I despised it. Even though Gramps had spent an embarrassing amount of time teaching me—and not in the Chevy—the tricks to parallel parking in tight city spots. “Why can’t Dad take me?” He didn’t give a crap about how he looked this early in the morning.

  “He’s at work. Stop being dramatic.”

  Of course my workaholic dad was at his office on a Saturday morning.

  So much for my Starbucks. I didn’t have time to deal with trying to find parking there, too. I’d have to choke down aspirin with a bottle of water.

  She eased off the bench and went for her tan Coach purse sitting on top of the gleaming dining-room table. “This will be good practice for you since it’s part of living in the city.” She reached into her purse, withdrew her BMW key and held it out for me to take. “You’ll be fine. And I’ve always been able to find parking on Clay. But you are to come straight home when you’re done for the day.”

  I snatched the key from her perfectly French-manicured fingertips. “Fine.”

  I whirled from her and marched in the direction of my bedroom. Now I needed to bring my purse. And if her precious Beemer SUV ended up scarred because of my terrible parallel parking skills, she’d have no one to blame but herself.

  I stared at my finished masterpiece and smiled. It had turned out pretty good, considering I’d never painted ten cardboard boxes to look like lockers.

  Several kids were still working on the Rydell High backdrop. I’d felt the constant drilling in my brain since I walked in here with a minute to spare. Today I’d noticed a few kids wearing headphones. They had to be listening to music and were, like me, working on props by themselves. And maybe Mr. Lowry made an exception to the no-phone rule if we asked? I’d have to ask Paige the next time I saw her. She, for some reason, wasn’t here today.

  I would’ve been jealous, if not for the fact being here gave me an excuse not to be at “home” with my mother.

  A burst of familiar laughter from behind me caused me to slightly turn.

  Drama Boy had been nearby since the day started and working with another boy on what would be the Rydell High scoreboard. He worked hard for someone who had a big part in the musical. But he did have a real and pretty cool job when not at school. His job at his family’s shop explained his confidence working on the big set pieces, like the scoreboard. Everyone liked him, too, and went to him with questions if Mr. Lowry was busy with something else.

  “Are you finally finished with that?”

  I closed my eyes, counted to three, then angled my head up to look at Theresa.

  She had her curly hair pulled into pigtails. The hairstyle made her round, pale face look wider. She also looked ten years old and back in fifth grade.

  “Yes,” I answered as politely as I could. I then reminded myself of the Theresa Flanagan highlights Kassidy gave me on Monday.

  Parents going through a nasty divorce. Forced to leave her school and friends, and move here with her dad and her dad’s much younger boyfriend. The cause of the nasty divorce.

  “Good.” She pointed at a picnic bench, which looked as old as the city of San Francisco, sitting off to our right. “Mr. Lowry wants that painted next. Just the table part. In red. As in Rydell High’s school colors?”

  Theresa had a right to be hurt and pissed off. But it didn’t give her the right to come into a new school and take it out on everyone who crossed her path—I suddenly remembered Drama Boy’s remark in the office. About me “scaring freshmen with my super awesome personality.”

  I didn’t exactly have a reputation for being the friendliest girl in school. Especially being best friends with Ella. But I’d never thought of myself as a cruel bully like Theresa. Or…Ella.

  I forced myself to ignore Theresa’s condescending tone and asked, “Why isn’t Mr. Lowry telling me this?” Which really meant, who the hell put you in charge?

  “He’s busy talking with Mrs. Chaplin. He asked me to do it, but I’m still helping with the backdrop and you now have nothing to do.” She tilted her head to the right. “Try to be quick. The rest of it will have to be painted, too. Before the show runs next month.” She turned and bounced back to where they were working on the backdrop.

  My sympathy for Miss Theresa Flanagan started to evaporate. And too busy my ass. More like too busy socializing with her friends.

  I sighed and stood.

  Theresa wasn’t worth jeopardizing passing junior year.

  I had begun painting the table Rydell red when I heard, “Natalie, what are you doing?”

  I looked at Mr. Lowry and straightened. “Painting the picnic table?” I stupidly replied. But dread began to build in my stomach, causing it to tighten, as frustration took over his normally relaxed face.

  “Why are you painting it red? It’s supposed to be brown.”

  I placed the paintbrush on an unpainted part of the table and angled my chin up.

  That conniving bitch.

  “Theresa told me to paint it red.” I was so not taking the fall for this.

  He turned left. “Theresa, can you come here?”

  His booming voice reached across the stage and caused students’ heads to snap up. Including Drama Boy’s.

  My face burned, but at the same time I wanted to lunge for her throat as she skipped over with an angelic expression. But I saw hints of evil hanging around her large, spooky green eyes.

  “Why is Natalie painting this? And red? I specifically told you brown.”

  Her eyes became larger, and I couldn’t fight my smirk.

  “I only asked her to paint it because I was still helping with the backdrop. And she had nothing to do since she was done with the lockers.” Theresa looked at me and added, “But I never told her to paint the table red.”

  My mouth inched open. But I couldn’t get any words out. They were stuck in my throat.

  “I guess she wasn’t listening.”

  I tightened my hands into fists. “You told me to paint it red.” My body, shaking from anger, made my voice shaky.

  I must’ve sounded on the verge of tears, because Mr. Lowry tried smiling at me. But I could tell he didn’t know who to believe.

  Theresa shrugged. “Mr. Lowry, I have no idea what she’s—”

  “It’s fine. I’m just glad I caught you before you finished,” he said directly to me. “I think the brown is dark enough to cover the red. But it might take two coats.�
��

  I nodded my reply.

  He gave us a long, skeptical stare before walking away.

  Theresa tried to do the same thing, but I blocked her path. I also somehow stopped myself from taking the can of red paint and throwing it in her smug face.

  “You better stay the hell away from me the next five weeks.”

  “You don’t scare me.” She leaned forward. “Especially since everyone knows the only reason you’re here is because daddy and mommy couldn’t buy you out of community service.”

  Oh…she did not say that to me.

  I took a step closer. “What did you just say?”

  A warm hand clasped my fisted right hand and tugged me back a couple steps. But I kept my eyes locked on Theresa.

  “Take it easy, Natalie. And Theresa, you need to get back to doing whatever it is you do around here.”

  “Shane, are you actually defending her?” She glared at me. “And she started it.”

  I stepped toward her, determined to finish it, but Shane’s grip on my hand stopped me. He stepped backward, pulling me away from Theresa, who stalked off in the opposite direction.

  I turned and started taking deep breaths.

  “You seem like a girl who would have a mean right cross.”

  I heard the smile in Shane’s voice, but continued breathing deeply. If he hadn’t interfered, everyone would’ve seen me right cross her face. I’d probably also be facing expulsion.

  “Not that I would’ve blamed you for knocking her out. I heard what she said to you.”

  I looked up, our eyes met, and I saw…compassion. And a little bit of anger? No. Him feeling anger about what happened didn’t make any sense.

  I shook my head and broke our eye contact. “You feel the same way she does.”

  “Okay. That was the case. But now I know better and I’m sorry.”

  I glanced at him.

  Did he really apologize?

  “I’m sure she did say to paint it red. A few other kids have had trouble with her, too.”

  I nodded, though hearing that didn’t make me feel better.

  “If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have worked so hard on those lockers.” He smiled. “They turned out great.”