My Know-It-All Nemesis - Maggie Dallen Page 0,22

she was no help, and Daphne was better at this kind of stuff anyway.

“What can I do?” she said, all serious and intense, just the way I needed her.

“Help me look fierce.”

I heard a little cough-laugh escape on the other end before she smothered it. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. Head into my bedroom…”

A little while later, we were back in the same position we’d been the night before. Daphne was watching me from my computer, and I was eyeing myself in front of the mirror.

The scene was exactly the same except totally different. I barely recognized the girl who looked back at me.

No, not girl. The woman. I blinked as if that might help me reconcile the image in the mirror with the eyes that peered back at me.

I looked…good.

“You look hot,” Daphne said.

I bit my lip and turned my head left and right. Hot? Really? I so rarely let my hair down, and I hadn’t realized how long it had gotten. Daphne had talked me through how to use her hair contraptions so it fell over my shoulders and down my back in big, loose waves. The bangs that were forever escaping my ponytail were off to the side, framing my eyes and highlighting my cheekbones. The makeup I’d put on didn’t hurt in that regard, either, and my eyes looked bigger than ever with lashes that I could actually see.

“Are you sure it’s not too much?” I asked worriedly.

Daphne scoffed. “Are you kidding? I can barely tell you’re wearing makeup.”

I glanced down. “I meant the dress.”

It was a dress, yes, but it was so not like the dresses I typically wore. This one was black and form-fitting, and it had a v-neck that made me blush just looking at it. An orange-ish belt at my waist helped it look a little more festive, and in my hands, I held what Daphne informed me was the coup d’etat. I looked down at the black headband with the cat ears. “I don’t know, Daph, if I’m supposed to be a black cat shouldn’t I at least have whiskers?”

She sighed, and for the first time in my entire life, I felt like a bad student.

“You’re not going to this party to win a costume contest,” she said slowly. “You’re going to make a statement. You are strong and fierce, and everyone should take you seriously.” She jabbed a finger in the air to make her point. “Especially Miller Hardwell,” she added, her voice tight with anger. “And Tim Pfeiffer.”

I nodded sharply. I’d told her about what I’d overheard, and she might have been even more annoyed than I was.

“Besides,” she said. “You’ve got the ears. That’s good enough.”

“So,” I said slowly, turning to face her. “Think I’m ready?”

“As you’ll ever be,” she said with a grin. “Go on and show them.”

“Show them what?”

She winked. “What a freak you really are.”

I let out a laugh and that helped my nerves to calm. She was right, though. I’d always known I was different. I’d never quite fit in, no matter how friendly I was or how much people liked my organizational skills.

I was fine with not fitting in, I really was—but I wasn’t about to sit on the sidelines and let idiots like Tim Pfeiffer and Miller Hardwell shape this conversation. I’d go back to normal on Monday morning, but this was Halloween, and maybe Daphne had been right.

Maybe it was about time I showed them another side of me. The side my peers rarely, if ever, got to see.

The side that was serious. The side that meant business.

I eyed myself in the mirror one last time.

The side that knew how to fight back.

8

Miller

My backyard was swarming with Sweet Mountain High students before the sun even set. Now, as the sun sank below the horizon, and a cacophony of music, laughter and loud talking surrounded me, I eyed the back door to my house where kids kept streaming in.

Still no sight of her.

“You look hilarious, man,” one of the guys from my team called out as I leaned back against the gazebo railing. My mom had taken my little sister out for dinner and a movie so she wouldn’t ruin the vibe.

My buddies always said I had a cool mom—she was the mom that never cared when people crashed or how many parties we held at the pool house and in her backyard. Just as long as my plans didn’t interfere with her active social life at the country club,