Revenge of the Homecoming Queen Page 2

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Everyone knows that I don’t really wear knockoffs, right?” Tobi is doubled over with laughter, as I precariously prop my butt up on a sink while swiping at the mirror with a damp paper towel trying to erase Angel’s pathetic attempt to humiliate me.

  “I think you’re safe, Aspen, but some people might think you’re a lesbo.” She’s laughing so hard she starts snorting.

  “I would rather them think that then that I wear knockoffs. What is this crap?” I scrape at the lipstick with my fingernails. “Omigod, Tobi, I think she used Wet ‘n’ Wild lipstick. It figures, that skank doesn’t even have enough class to use decent lipstick for graffiti.” I shake my head as I wipe away the rest of the message and jump down off the sink.

  “You’re just secretly pissed because she got queen and you didn’t. I told you to get that tramp stamp last summer. That would have cinched it for you.” Tobi says referring to our inside joke about girls with lower-back tattoos being scary überskanks. Angel, of course, has a tramp stamp.

  “Over my dead body would I ever deface this work of art,” I say, running my hands down my body. We both burst into giggles again. No wonder Angel was in such a hurry to get out of here. Too bad I foiled her little scheme and no one but Tobi and I got the pleasure of seeing her little message. Tobi was right, Angel is all talk. This was the poorest attempt at revenge I’ve ever seen. Angel is so off my radar screen.

  Lucas still needs to be dealt with though. Thankfully for him I didn’t get queen or this dumb- ass stunt would have really cost him. Even so, I think a token of his deep regret in the form of Dooney is appropriate.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I’m anxious to find Lucas and tell him what I want. We push open the bathroom door, and to our surprise, the halls are still filled with students. It seems the surprise homecoming vote is a good enough gossip topic to keep everyone from bolting home like they usually do. Clusters of students fill the hall as Tobi and I make our way back to my locker. As much as I would love to blow off my homework tonight, I have a huge accounting test tomorrow, and I’m not going to fail just because of this moronic drama that Lucas started.

  As we reach my locker I yank on the lock, which I expect to pop open since I was too lazy to lock it before, but now it’s locked. Some concerned teacher must have come along and locked it. They just can’t keep their hands to themselves. I quickly spin the dial as Tobi waits patiently, leaning on my neighbor’s locker.

  “Lucas really did it this time. Even the teachers are down there talking about it,” she says, glancing toward the teacher huddle forming outside the school office.

  “Those losers probably love it. You know most of them were total geeks in high school,” I say, spinning to the final number in my locker combination. I pull up on the latch and the locker door suddenly swings open and a burst of papers come cascading out onto me.

  “What the … ” I don’t even get out the full sentence as I stare unbelievingly around my feet at the naked girly pictures. Pictures of women topless, bottomless, or both are all over the hallway floor, its like Girls Gone Wild has taken up residence in my locker.

  “Holy crap,” Tobi yells, dropping to her feet and trying to grab some of the flyers before this scene gets too out of control. Unfortunately, she’s way too late. Lucas and the rest of the football team are already drooling over a girl-on-girl pic. Students are scrambling all over trying to get to the pictures. People are even pushing me aside to grab them out of my locker.

  “Damn, babe, why didn’t you tell me you’re bi?” Lucas mumbles, ogling a glossy photo of a topless girl with pigtails.

  “I didn’t tell you that because I’m not!” I yell, starting to get very angry. “Somebody is sabotaging me and I know exactly who is it.” I slam my locker door, catching a casualty in the side of the door with her crotch hanging out. I’m about to declare war on Angel Ives when Mr. Lowe taps me on the shoulder.

  “Aspen, I need to see you in the office immediately.” The office? Puhlease! The only reason I ever get called to the office is to pick up my flower deliveries. Angel’s gonna pay for this.

  Tobi makes eye contact with me and I mouth that I’ll call her later. I don’t even bother looking twice at Lucas who is busy trying to pull the crotch shot out of my locker.

  * * * *

  Mr. Lowe has me take a seat inside Miss Hott’s office, then he says he’ll be back. He tried to be stern, which isn’t a good look for him. I bet he’s headed back out to the hallway to confiscate all the pictures to take home for himself tonight.

  Why in the world would Angel want everyone to think I’m gay? I mean seriously, is that the best revenge she can think of? She is so going to pay for this.

  The sounds in the hall are getting more faint, meaning that everyone has finally decided the excitement is over and it’s time to go home. I’m getting a little nervous because I’ve never been in trouble before. The cinder-block walls in this place aren’t doing a whole lot for me either. In a completely misguided attempt to make this space her own, Miss Hott has painted the walls a freakish pink color. I feel like I’m in Pepto-Bismol prison. She has a huge black-and-white picture of a couple kissing, which is kinda of cool, even though I think it’s a bit hypocritical since she’s all over the students for any kind of PDAs whatsoever. Her desk is adorned with several tiny picture frames in the shape of high heels. Miss Hott is definitely a girly girl.

  I turn one of the pink high-heel frames around. A young blonde smiles back at me. She’s pretty in a completely out-of-style kind of way. She has feathered Charlie’s Angels hair and her dress is a scary Laura Ashley floral print, circa 1980s. The longer I stare at the poor unfashionable girl I can see slight similarities to Miss Hott. They have the same hair and eyes. This must be her sister. Wow! I bet Miss Hott needs a skycap for all her baggage after trying to compete with her sister all her life. I’m so thankful to be an only child. Any sibling of mine would have had a serious inferiority complex, and that’s just no way to live.

  Just when I am about to doze off, because I have been contained in this unventilated room for so long, Mr. Lowe and Miss Hott finally make their appearance. I sit up straight and prepare myself for battle. There is no way I’m going down for this.

  Mr. Lowe takes the seat next to me while Miss Hott plops down into her big leather chair. For a second I’m actually afraid that the chair may collapse. To say that Miss Hott would be an ideal candidate for gastric bypass surgery would be the ultimate understatement. She tries crossing her legs, but can’t get her big ham hock of a leg over the other one. She finally gives up and scoots her legs under her desk. Even though I’m sure that Marc Jacobs or Ralph Lauren sizes don’t go up that high, Miss Hott does try to look stylish.

  I notice Mr. Lowe looking her over, then I see a look of total revulsion cross his face. Bummer! It would have been kind of cool if they could have hooked up. After all, big girls need love, too. As far as I know neither one of them has a significant other, but they probably shouldn’t since they work together. “Don’t shit where you eat,” as my dad so eloquently puts it. It doesn’t really matter anyway since Mr. Lowe obviously isn’t a chubby chaser.

  “So, Aspen, what do you have to say for yourself?” Miss Hott asks me as she precariously tilts her chair back and folds her chubby sausage fingers over the shelf her gigantic boobs create across her chest. I bet Lucas and his boys wouldn’t mind seeing her topless. Ewww … that was a gross thought. I better quit screwing around and start defending myself.

  “I would hope that after my exemplary record at this school that you two would know enough about my character to realize that I would never bring pornographic material onto school grounds.”

  “But you keep it at home, right?” Mr. Lowe asks, stifling a laugh.

  “Bob, that’s not funny,” Miss Hott says, but laughs anyway. “Of course we know you didn’t bring it, Aspen. But do you have any idea how it got into your locker?”

  I blow out a huge sigh of r
elief. I’m not going to have to defend myself after all. Angel is going to be serving detention for life when I bust her out for this. “It was Angel Ives; she’s pissed, oops, I mean mad because Rand got voted homecoming king. She said she was going to destroy me. Then me and Tobi practically ran into her coming out of the bathroom and once we got inside we saw that she had written a horrible message about me on the mirror. She’s crazy.” By the look on Miss Hott’s face, I’m pretty sure I’ve convinced her.

  “What was the message?” Crap. Am I really going to have to repeat this to her? I’ll just leave off the part about the knockoffs.

  “Um, well, it said, “Aspen Brooks is a lesbo.” I can tell Mr. Lowe is trying very hard not to picture me involved in a little girl-on-girl action. What a freaking perv! I turn back to Miss Hott.

  “Is that all it said?” What is she, psychic?

  “Um, well, it also kind of said that I wear knockoffs,” I unwillingly admit, hanging my head. This is so humiliating even if it isn’t true.

  Both supposed distinguished members of this fine learning institution completely lose their minds. They both start howling at the top of their lungs like I’ve just told the funniest joke in the whole world. So much for compassion.

  “That isn’t even the worst part. She used cheap lipstick for her graffiti.” I say, making them laugh even harder; I figure I might as well use their insanity to my advantage. Finally after several minutes of deep breaths and wiping tears away they manage to remember that they are supposed to be setting a good example for me. Ha, fat chance of that happening anytime soon.

  “Angel’s had her fun. She’ll get over it once the homecoming festivities start. Besides, Rand is a very charming young man. She’ll have a blast with him this week.”

  “So that’s it? You’re not even going to call her in here?”

  “Aspen, we don’t have any witnesses. It’s your word against hers. Just be sure to let me know if anything else happens. Oh, and I have a feeling that this wouldn’t have happened if someone had locked their locker.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re dismissed now.”

  I get up to leave and before shutting the door I peek my head back in and say, “totally cute office,” which gets a proud look from Miss Hott. You never know when a little butt kissing might come in handy. As I shut the door and walk out into the main office I hear them start to howl with laughter. It’s nice that I could provide these middle-aged losers with some entertainment today.

  * * * *

  By the time I get done being humiliated in Miss Hott’s office the school hallway is deserted. I hurry to my locker, which has been picked clean of any nudie pics, and grab my accounting textbook. Throwing my purse over my shoulder, I walk briskly to my car.

  My car … I love saying that … my beautiful, shiny, fast car. My teal Explorer is easy to spot since it is nearly the only vehicle left in the parking lot. Every time I look at my gorgeous SUV, I get butterflies. After eighteen months, we are still completely in love with each other. It’s my longest relationship yet. My SUV takes me wherever I want to go, whenever I want, and provides an oasis when I need to escape any kind of school or home drama. It may not be skanky Angel’s brand-new Mustang, but my SUV still rocks.

  I get close enough to run the tips of my fingers along the smooth blue-green hood.

  “Hey, Cookie, did you miss me?” I call my car Cookie. I felt that she needed a name and Cookie, for some reason, seemed appropriate. “How’s my baby today?” Okay, I know she’s not going to talk back or anything, but I haven’t had a single breakdown so I think a little TLC goes a long way.

  I hit the button on my remote to unlock the driver’s side door when something near the back left tire catches my eye. Cookie is sitting much lower in the back with a huge pair of scissors sticking out of what used to be my back left tire. Now it’s just a shredded pile of rubber. I can’t believe this. Angel had the nerve to slash my tire. This is no cheap lipstick graffiti or nudie pics. This is serious. At least I’ve got my proof now. Just wait until Miss Hott sees this, Angel will probably get expelled. Kiss your tiara good-bye, beyotch!

  I stomp back into the school and down the hall to the office. I try turning the doorknob but it is locked. Quickly, I run to the front doors just in time to see Miss Hott’s car pull out of the front driveway. So much for busting Angel. I grab my iPhone from my purse. I’ll just have to call Mom to pick me up. It beeps angrily then dies. Crap! I’m horrible about charging this stupid thing. I put the phone back into my purse and head for the pay phone. A snack machine now blocks where I remembered the phone being. Vaguely, I remember the pay phone being removed since every single student has a cell phone now. Stupid technology.

  “Hello? Anybody here?” There has got to be some random janitor somewhere who will let me into the office to make a phone call. I peek into the classrooms to try to find someone but it is looking more and more like I’m going to have to suck it up and walk home. This could, quite possibly, ruin my new boots. This has truly been the day from hell.

  Suddenly I get an idea that brightens my mood. Since nobody is around, nobody would witness a certain somebody defacing a certain skank’s locker. Yeah! I rush down to locker number sixty-six, which belongs to Angel. I quickly pull out my purple Sharpie and add another six next to her locker number, now it fits her perfectly. I can’t resist the urge to also add a little message to greet Angel in the morning. I bite on the Sharpie cap while trying to come up with something perfect. I had to admit that Angel’s mirror graffiti was witty. I don’t want to write something totally lame. After careful consideration, I decide on “Angel Ives has three nipples.” I check again that the coast is clear, then quickly jot it on her locker while trying to disguise my handwriting. I step back and admire my handiwork. I would love to see Angel’s face in the morning.

  “Does she really?” A male voice asks, causing me to scream and jump a foot into the air.

  “Omigod, Rand, you scared me half to death.” It’s none other than our newly crowned homecoming king minus the crown.

  “What’cha doing?” he says, laughing, knowing he totally busted me.

  “Now listen, normally I would be the first to condemn this type of behavior, but she has completely tortured me today. First, she wrote something horrible about me on the bathroom mirror, then she filled my locker full of porn, then she slashed my tire,” I spout, suddenly exhausted.

  “I knew about the porn. Compliments of Lucas.” He holds up a picture of some topless chick. “She slashed your tire? That’s kind of serious. Why do you think it was her?” I realize that after attending school with Rand for twelve years this is the longest conversation we have ever had.

  “She told me today at the assembly she was going to destroy me.” Crap, I shouldn’t have said that. Now he’s going to ask me why. I’m not about to tell him that Angel thinks I was in cahoots with Lucas. I do not want to be the one to break his heart and tell him that his nomination was just a joke.

  “I hate to break it to you, but your little message might actually make Angel more popular. With the males anyway, present company excluded of course,” he says, laughing. “So why does she want to destroy you?” This is not happening.

  “I don’t know. I … I … think she wants Lucas all to herself.” This is the best I could do on short notice, besides, it’s not totally untrue. I’ve seen the looks Angel gives Lucas when she thinks I’m not looking.

  “I’m guessing you think that would be a bad thing?” He tilts his head to the side causing his curls to tumble.

  “Um, yeah, considering he’s my boyfriend,” I reply snottily, tossing my hair back while putting the cap back on my Sharpie and dropping it back into my purse.

  “That’s right, I forgot you two are an item now. I would have never put you with a guy like Lucas, but hey, what do I know?”

  I’m not sure what he means and I am about to unleash a string of very unladylike profanities when he grabs my arm and starts walking me toward the west d
oors near the student parking lot. I knew he was a nerd, but I didn’t know he was a total freak. He is actually going to kidnap me.

  “Let go of me!” I yell, trying to wrestle free of his surprisingly strong grip.

  “The janitor’s coming. He’ll tell Miss Hott you defaced Angel’s locker, then you’ll get kicked off the court. Run.”

  I glance quickly behind me and sure enough our older-than-dirt janitor is taking in my message about Angel. I break into a full speed jog next to Rand.

  “You kids get back here!” the janitor yells as we both burst thru the west doors together.

  “Over here,” Rand yells, running toward a tiny, egg-shaped, blindingly yellow car. He hops in and unlocks my side. I’m trailing a bit behind because these boots were definitely made for walking, not running. I open the passenger side door and slide in, instantly bashing my knee on the dashboard.

  “Why is this car so small?” I yell, hugging my knees, not out of choice, but because I have no room to actually stretch them out.

  “Some of us actually care enough about the environment to give up some luxuries.” He says giving my gas-guzzling SUV a snarl as we drive by it.

  “What? Sacrificing leg room makes you an environmentalist?” I ask, getting a little defensive since he had the nerve to insult Cookie.

  “This car is a hybrid, I only have to fill it up about once a month. We’re just trying to do our part, aren’t we, Buzz?” He taps gently on the dash while maneuvering his FryDaddy on wheels onto the highway.

  “You named your car?” I’m in amazement that Rand and I would have something in common.

  “Yeah, kinda weird, right? Buzz just kind of fits him.”

  “That’s totally weird.” I feel a little guilty not fessing up about Cookie, but I don’t want Rand to get the wrong idea. If he thought we had something in common, it might get his hopes up that we could be friends or something, and that is so not happening. “My car may not run on French fry oil, but I still do my part,” I say instead.