Mean Girls. Louise Rozett

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СКАЧАТЬ is going to the cause.”

      She stepped down, to applause. Professor Crawley took the podium over again. “Actually, in line with that, there is no way to know if this posting was really by Becca or not. The police are searching, but please, I implore you not to get your hopes—”

      But Professor Crawley could hardly be heard. Everyone in the auditorium was talking noisily.

      It stayed like that through dinner. I sat at a table with Cam, Blake, Max and some others I barely knew. Most of them were talking about Becca. I was poking at my spaghetti and meatballs, and Max was staring at his meat loaf.

      I tried to formulate a million different questions and things to say before landing on, “What do you think?”

      We couldn’t be heard over everyone else.

      He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

      “Where would she have been all this time?”

      “I don’t know.”

      I waited for him to say something else. When he didn’t, I took a deep breath. “Max, you must be able to guess. You have no idea if this is something she might do?”

      He raised his eyebrows. “It’s definitely something she would do.”

      “It is?” My heart fell a little. Then guilt squeezed it.

      “Yes.”

      “Why?”

      He shrugged. “Attention probably. Or something else. I don’t know.”

      I took a small bite of my spaghetti. A moment later, I got up the nerve to ask him what I had been thinking. “Max, do you think she might have been pregnant?”

      He froze. “I don’t know.”

      “Really?”

      “No. I have no idea.” His tone had sharpened.

      I stared at him for a moment. “I’m not very hungry. And I’m tired. The plane, you know.” I waved my hand, as if to say, Oh, planes, they put me right to sleep. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      He said nothing, and let me walk away. I said good-night to everyone else. Blake gave me a kind smile and waved.

      I ran into Johnny on the steps.

      “Hey,” he said.

      “Johnny.” I breezed past him, not stopping until I got to the rotunda. I slumped down in one of the seats with itchy fabric.

      “What’s wrong?” Johnny had followed me.

      I shook my head. “Do you think Becca might come back?”

      “It’s something she’d do.”

      “Well, that doesn’t sound like the trait of a very lovable person, does it?” The question flew from my lips before I could stop it. “I mean … I mean …”

      Johnny sat down across from me. “She wasn’t all simple charm. She had more to her. Yeah, this is something she’d do, but … I don’t know.” He looked thoughtfully down at his own fingers. “If she did, there’s more to it than just attention. I’m sure of that.”

      “I asked Max if he thought she was pregnant.”

      He looked stony. “Yeah, I’ve wondered that, too. Most everyone has.”

      We were silent for a moment. “Was he … really that in love with her?”

      “I don’t know what it was. It was something … different.”

      My heart sank. “Okay.”

      “He just couldn’t tear himself away from her. I don’t know why. But I mean, he wasn’t the only one.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I just mean that … everyone was fascinated by her. She looked like a movie star, but partied like a rock star. I don’t know. She was just endearing in that way.”

      I bit my lip and stared down at the floor. I’d never felt more drab in my life. I was like the gray, rainy skies outside, only less threatening and full of no mystery at all. Before coming to Manderley, I’d always thought I was worth knowing—certainly not worth admiring or obsessing over like Becca clearly was—but now I just felt like a mess. I bet Becca never had a hole in her socks, or a bad face day. I bet she never had puffy eyes in the morning or got hungover. She probably looked good in glasses—not that she’d have to wear them because she’d surely have perfect vision—and still look gorgeous without makeup. Probably had sexy, messy, bed hair instead of just ratty, messy hair.

      She was the kind of beautiful we’ve all been comforted into thinking was just airbrushing in magazines. I was the “real” girl they always show before the airbrushing with a caption like, “But here’s what the average real girl looks like! Can you even believe it? She was walking around like that!”

      “I can’t compete with that.” My face was getting hot. “Everyone looks at me like they think that I think that I’m as good as her, and I’m not even saying that I am. And yet, why should it be just so obvious that I’m not?”

      I couldn’t figure out what exactly was driving my jealousy. I didn’t want to be fawned over and obsessed over. But I envied that she was.

      “Look. Look at me.” He waited for me to look at him. “Call Becca the most beautiful and charming girl in the world, and it has nothing to do with who you are. You hardly pale in comparison. Everyone here, they’re just shallow. Becca wasn’t a bad person on the inside, but no one here got to know her, either. They all liked her because she was unique. She was a new toy they never really got to play with. And now that she’s gone, they just want her more than ever.”

      I looked up at him, not noticing my eyes were filled with tears until some fell from my eyelashes. It was nice of him trying to console me. But I knew what he was saying was just that. Consoling.

      Johnny smiled a little, furrowing his eyebrows. “Don’t. You have no reason to cry. You’re bigger than this whole school and everything anyone might think about you inside of it.”

      “I never worry about this kind of thing. I’ve never been this person.”

      “You’re still not, you’re just being massacred by a popular girl’s posse. It makes sense.”

      I took a deep breath and laughed. “Thank you.”

      Johnny looked over my shoulder and I turned to see Max.

      “Are you fucking joking?” Max asked, looking at Johnny.

      “Max, stop before your imagination goes crazy. I wasn’t—” Johnny began.

      Max clenched his jaw, and stared straight at Johnny. “I’m not going through this whole thing again, especially not with her.” He threw a finger at me.

      Johnny СКАЧАТЬ