Chapter 4: One Eighty Degrees

That weekend I went to Maureen's house for a sleepover, and when my Mom drove up her driveway, Jenna and China were on Jenna's front lawn, and they glared at me as I walked up to the front door. I rang the doorbell, and Maureen quickly swung it open, her eyes bright and energetic. Her mother came bouncing down the hall, in jean capri pants and a grey cardigan over a black t-shirt.
“Hi!” She grinned as my mother approached with my overnight bag. A tall boy, taller then Maureen's mother approached the doorway. He was crazy cute. How could Jenna not appreciate being Maureen's neighbour? He whispered something to Maureen's mom and glanced at me coldly. Yum. Mysterious. I thought, licking my lips to make them appear glossy. I kissed my mom quickly and took my duffel bag.

“Come on.” Maureen exclaimed, and led me up the carpeted stairs and through the door at the top of the stairs. I glanced down the hallway before I entered her room. It was lime green and lavendar, with home-made curtains hanging down over her window. Her closet was messy and only half full, and there were three big cardboard boxes marked 'Old Toys' next to her bookshelf. There was a bulletin board covered in photos. Contrary to popular belief, as I observed those photos I realized that Maureen actually did have friends. In many of the photos she was with a tan girl with brown wavy hair and bangs, but in some she was with many girls.

“Those are my friends from basketball camp. They all go to catholic school, so I barely see them. That's Kathleen. She's my best friend.” She pointed at the girl with the wavy brown hair and bangs.

“She's pretty.” I remarked. I sat down next to her on her bed, and she sighed.
“What to do, eh?” She spoke quietly as if someone was eavesdropping on our conversation. The silence broke when someone burst through the door.

“So, who's paying you? Are you wearing a wire?” The tall boy was standing in her doorway, staring right in my eyes.
“What?” I smiled, hopefully sweetly and cutely. The type of smile that boys would melt when they saw, I prayed. But no, he did not melt. He just stood there.

“My dorky sister, this girl right here, has a friend? A friend who I have seen with non-dorky girl Jenna Demsing many times?” He shook Maureen by her shoulders. She smacked his arm angrily.

“Jer, go away.” She protested. I giggled as he lifted her up, toting her over his shoulder and swung her around. My eyes widened.

“But seriously,” He stepped closer to me as he threw her back onto the bed with a thud, “why are you here?” I shrugged shyly and he bounded out.

“Wow, he's so stupid. That's Jer, my big brother. He's a pain.” She rolled her eyes.

“You wanna know a secret?” Maureen asked shyly.

“Sure.” I shrugged, and she edged closer on the bed to me.

“Jenna and I used to be best friends.” She whispered softly. My jaw dropped.

“What?!” I exclaimed, jumping in anxiousness. I needed to hear more. How could two complete opposites like them who seemed to avoid eachother like the plague ever have anything in common?

“Well, when she first moved in here, we hung out. She wasn't all cool back then. She was the underdog, actually. And my parents told me to be nice to her and show her around, so I did. And we got along real well. We had sleepovers, and they were fun. Then, the summer after grade five, she tried to kiss Jer, and it was a disaster. He pushed her away and she stopped being my friend so that if anyone asked everything I said was a lie. And then she became popular, and she pushed me down to the very bottom. And I never told anyone about the Jer thing, so it's pretty stupid that she did that for no reason. But, yeah.” She explained. My jaw dropped.

“Why would she try to kiss him? He's way older, she had no chance!” I exclaimed.

“Well, back then she was almost grade six and he was almost grade eight. She claimed he led her on, or something. Plus she was all hot stuff that summer, she was already out-growing me then. She wore a padded bra and tank tops with short shorts, boys thought she was hot.” Maureen explained.

“Oh. Well, that's a fun story.” I grinned. Another boy who I expected was also her brother, but was not Jer, entered the room. I'd seen him around school, he was in Stephen's grade, eighth grade. He had a blank expression on his face and his eyes were frozen and dead. He shook it off, and stuck his chin out toward Maureen.

“Yo, twerp. Mom wanted you to have these.” He handed her a big yellow bowl of sour cream and onion chips, and then glanced at me. His gaze stopped as his eyes met mine and he stared for a few moments, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth as if to exclaim what?! But quickly turned and speed-walked out.

“That's Cam. He's in our school, maybe you know him? He sometimes plays football with your brother at lunch.” She explained. Instead of commenting on how friggin' creepy he was, I smiled.

“What's with your brothers and having extremely short names?” I giggled.

“Cameron and Jeremy, no worries.” She snorted in amusement, popping a chip in her mouth.

“It's weird how none of my friends go for Cam, he's way closer to our age. Kathleen, she has a crush on Jer, like Jenna did. Gross.” She remarked. I nodded, smirking. I felt a bit bad for fitting that terrible stereotype as she described it, but Jer was so damn cute! Cam looked like him but younger, and he didn't have the muscles. I'd watched Jer's flex when he lifted Maureen high above his head. My legs felt week and I hitched myself back up onto the bed, because I'd slid off without realizing, letting my head lull back.

“Is Jer at our school?” I asked.
“Yup. Ninth grade.” She explained proudly, like it was such a gem to have a brother who made it to ninth grade. I felt obligated to point out that Owen was in his first year of university, so I did. But unlike Jer, I didn't see Owen as the kind of guy that my friends would crush on. He was pretty anti-social, spent most of his time on the computer. He had puffy brown hair and glasses, but his smile was cute and goofy.

“We're having chinese food.” Maureen decided to say, and I nodded in a way that said, ok, that's a bit random, but ok. She stood up and I realized that the doorbell had rung, and she'd mentioned the chinese food because it had just arrived. As we scurried downstairs the aroma of fresh shrimp spring rolls filled the entry way and I breathed in deeply. She led me into their kitchen, and I sat down next to her and her Mom, with the two boys across from me, staring at me the whole time, analyzing me. I tried to avoid their eyes, but it was hard when they followed me everywhere. I scooped rice and vegetables onto my plate with two breaded chicken balls. I poured red sweet sauce on them and drizzled my rice in soy sauce. Then I grabbed two spring rolls and began to nibble on a green bean, marinated in sweet and sour sauce.

“I got it!” Jer exclaimed halfway through the dinner, cutting off Maureen's funny story about gym class.

“You're the girl on the posters! I knew I'd seen your face before!” Jer exclaimed, pointing at me directly. My eyes widened, and so did Cam's and Maureen's. S**t, s**t, s**t. I thought. Yes, Jer, sir hunkiness, I have gone through some changes lately and yes, Jer, protection is apparently necessary. I thought, turning bright red. He glanced at Cam, and he was red too. Jer shriveled down in his seat as Maureen's mother carried on, having no idea why we were all so embarrassed. Maureen glanced at me and touched my shoulder gently. I smiled.
After dinner, Jer burst into Maureen's room once again while we were chatting on her rug, painting our toenails.
“You're the girl on the posters.” He repeated what he'd said at dinner, but in a soft murmur.

“Jenna did it. It was sabotage.” I blurted out, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation.

“Isn't she such fun?” He replied sarcastically, “I saw that you had a bellybutton piercing. Was it real?” I nodded slowly and Maureen looked at me for the first time like she wasn't ready to fully support me.

“Wow. That's hot. You should get with my brother.” He suggested, winking coyly at me. He gave Maureen a two-finger salute and walked down the hall.

“Your bellybutton is pierced?” She asked. I lifted my tank top to reveal my tanned stomach and navel. She stared at it for a few moments.
“I'm thinking I'm gonna let the hole close up. I only kept it like this to please Jenna.” I explained, pulling my shirt back down to cover my stomach. Maureen looked at me like she was wondering if I really was the type of girl she wanted to be having a sleepover with.

“Want to watch tv?” She blurted out, and I smiled.

I admired myself in the mirror for a moment. Was I being too theatrical? Would people stare? I adjusted my sweater, hearing my bangles clank as they smacked against eachother, sliding down my arm. I was wearing bright hot pink leggings with black converse and a hot pink tank top. I hated spandex but it looked pretty good today. On top of my tank top was a light yellow baggy sweatshirt that hung off my shoulder. I had colourful plastic bangles up and down my arms, and my hair was curly and wild. I grabbed my purple over-the-shoulder bag made of soft corduroy and threw it over my shoulder. I ran downstairs, quickly sneaking a double-take in the mirror. I winked and hurried to the car.

I got a lot of looks that morning. Shocked looks. Impressed looks. Jealous looks. But no matter what type, all eyes were on me. I kind of enjoyed the attention, how people turned to their friends and whispered things in their ears as I strutted by. I tried to walk with confidence, but it was a bit hard without Jenna next to me, leading the way.
By fourth period, the buzz about my outfit and the posters and all that shiz was over, and now they were talking about some new girl. She was in my gym class, and she was pretty and curvy enough to make her button-down shirt and plaid skirt look good. She had her caramel hair back in a headband, her bangs framing her deep brown eyes perfectly. There were light blonde streaks in her hair, natural, I figured. Her shirt was un-buttoned on the first two buttons, and her b***s were almost bursting out of it, showing the perfect amount of cleavage that the boys loved. And her skirt made her look thin but still with a butt, and her legs were smooth and shaven. In gym she rolled up her yellow gym shorts and safety-pinned them into short shorts. She wore sneakers that gave her height and her shirt was tied in an elastic and fit her body tightly, showing a strip of skin between her shirt and shorts. The rest of us looked shapeless in our gym shorts that went to our knees and baggy t-shirts. She was good at dodgeball, and she didn't cower away whenever the ball came toward her like the rest of the girls. She dodged it quickly and whipped it back their way. It was admirable, and the boys enjoyed the view of her twisting and bending. After gym, the girls all stared at her in the changeroom. She stripped off her top, showing off her white lacy bra and pulled her button-down back on. Her b***s were really big, bigger then most of the girls in seventh grade. She had a bit of a muffin top, but it was completely hidden under her clothes. I figured a bit of belly fat came as an accessory to the extra breast. I giggled at the thought. I always waited for the rest of the girls to leave before I changed, to make sure no one saw my bellybutton piercing. Once there were only one or two people in there I turned away and changed quickly. I was sitting in there alone with the girl while she re-applied her deodorant and spritzed perfume in the air and walked through it continuously.

“You want some?” She asked, tossing the small pocket-size perfume bottle into my lap. I picked it up and sprayed it on my clothes, closing my eyes tightly.

“I like your outfit. It's frickin' adorable.” She remarked as I stood up and handed her the bottle back. My eyes lit up happily and I beamed at her with pride.

“Thanks!” I grinned. She adjusted her skirt, observing her butt in the small mirror beside the door.

“I'm Virginia. After that Billy Joel song?” She rolled her eyes, and sang softly, “come out, Virginia, don't let me wait, you catholic girls start much too late...” I nodded, smiling at her sweet singing voice.

“I like that song. I also like Vienna, by him. Lots of girls names.” I laughed.

“Yeah. I'm catholic, so my parents took the most corny way of naming me, after an obviously boring catholic girl in a Billy Joel song. Like, what the hell?” She rolled her eyes.

“It's pretty. I'm Peyton.” I replied.

“See, now, that's a name! Peyton, Peyton. I like it.” She complimented, her eyebrows raised as she smiled hugely.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, chipping off some of my pink nail-polish in the awkward silence.

“People don't seem to talk to you that much...” She remarked, glancing up at me cautiously. I sighed loudly, and sat down on the bench.

“It's a long story.” I gazed at her, my eyebrows arched. She inhaled through her nose and sat back, placing her hands behind her head, and gazed at me calmly.

“I've got time.”

“Peyton, pay attention.” Mr. Bryce snapped his fingers in my ear, and went back to circling things on my math test with his blue pen. I gazed over at him, watching his lips move as he spoke slowly to me. He circled a few addition sums and wrong answers, and sighed loudly as I gazed out the window.

“You're not listening. What could I do that would make this slightly more interesting?” He asked, placing his elbows on the desk.

“I don't know.” I shrugged. Kiss me. I thought. The feeling I got around Mr. Bryce was the same hormones-raging-rip-my-clothes-off kind of feeling I got around Jer. I was upset that no one that would actually do it ever made me feel that way. Mr. Bryce stood up, sliding the test across the desk to me.

“Try doing these three sums, okay? I'll show you how if you don't know.” He pointed at the a question that had taken my mark down from a 65% to a 50%. I nodded, sharpening my pencil quickly and writing down the first answer. He walked behind me, peering over my shoulder to peek at my answers. He laughed, and leaned over me. His breath on my neck, shivers went down my spine. He placed his hand on my page, and when I sat back in my chair I hit his chest. I breathed shakily as he began to tell me what I'd done wrong. I turned around slowly, gazing up at him. I placed my hand on his chest, feeling the thin fabric of his shirt seperating us from touching flesh-to-flesh. I wanted to un-button it, to feel his warm skin, but instead I threw myself on him, my lips almost touching his when he threw me off.
“Peyton!” He screamed angrily, spitting on the floor like I'd contaminated him somehow, though my lips hadn't even touched his. I hit the ground with a thump, and I swung my head around to face him, my hair sticking to my glossy lips.
“I'm sorry.” I whimpered softly, wincing in fear as he tugged at clumps of his hair. He stormed out as I pulled myself off the floor, my cheeks stained with sticky black tears from my mascara. I gazed at myself in the glass cabinet, slowly wiping away every trace of black off my cheeks. My nose was red and irritated, and my eyes were swollen and puffy. My throat was sore from gasping and my voice was hoarse. I smoothed out my leggings, and grabbed my backpack off my chair. I sighed slowly and left the school. I didn't know where I was going when I left, but somehow I ended up in Starbucks, drinking a caramel mocha ice cap and reading the comics in the newspaper to soothe my emotions. Lord, how did I come to this?

When I got home, I decided a bit of pampering would do me well. I mixed up some kind of avocado-nutella-banana-yogurt facial mask and spread it bravely all over my pores. It was brave for me. Who knew, maybe I could break out in hives in reaction to the nutella mixed with the yogurt? There were thousands of possibilities, things to worry about. While I waited for it to harden, I painted my toenails dark purple, and with many errors that nail polish remover solved perfectly, I finally managed to get them to look perfect. I stuck cotton balls between each toe and lied down on my bed, flipping through a wrestling magazine Stephen had left lying around. There were gross, veiny and greasy bodybuilders all through it, and they had big square faces. None of them were cute, and I wondered why any girls watched wrestling. But then I felt bad, because boys that weren't cute deserved appreciation too. Just like girls who weren't pretty still deserved to get kissed, and married. And I had to admit to myself, though it was a bit vain, I was fortunate with my looks. Hopefully my facial mask wouldn't screw that all up. I picked up the cordless phone my parents had gotten me for Christmas to keep in my room, and dialed Maureen's number. I didn't call her too often, and when I did it wasn't nearly as fun as talking to Jenna. Maureen sang little tunes when I wasn't talking and we didn't have anything to say, and she always seemed to be concentrated on something other then me, while I sat there putting my all into the conversation. Almost. I felt like a loser, because it was only when I was hopelessly bored that I thought so hard about that kind of stuff. Finally, Maureen answered.

“Hi, Peyton!” She chirped sweetly, and I heard Jer and Cam fighting in the background.

“Hey. What's going on, a bull fight?” I asked, and Maureen laughed harder then she should've, and I beamed. She might've been needy, she might've been a bit of a dork, but there was no doubt that she was my Maureen.

Author's Note

ok, i lied, no mystery, jessica. next chapter, i SWEAR!