but you guys don’t want to go up against Merritt.”
Zara’s dark eyes flared. “Maybe I can’t battle her in public, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything I can to take her down.”
I wondered what Zara’s problem with Merritt was. Zara was just as rich—and even more beautiful if you asked me.
Callie sighed and absently scratched at a small patch of psoriasis under her long hair. “I just want the good person to win. Just once. I’m tired of seeing her shove everyone around and get away with it.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to put her in her place,” I argued. “It’s just...” I sighed. “There are two kinds of people in this world. There are people like her”—I held up my toothpick—"and people like me.” I held up a French fry. “People like me don’t belong with people like Beckett. We don’t exist on the same plane of being.” I put the French fry in my mouth and chewed. “Even if he saw me, noticed me, went on a date with me, it wouldn’t be long before a Merritt of the world came along and reminded him of what he was missing out on.”
The room was silent except for the whirring of a computer from the AV teacher’s empty desk.
At the sinking look on Callie’s face, my stomach twisted with guilt. Wow, I was a jerk. They were just trying to help. “Guys, I’m sorry. I just...I don’t know how I could ever compete.”
Zara sat across the table from me and looked me in the eyes. “That’s exactly what people like Merritt want you to think. If my dad’s taught me anything, it’s that confidence and presentation make up for everything.”
“Exactly,” I said, pointing at myself. “My presentation is kind of lacking. And it’s not like I can lose a hundred pounds before homecoming.”
Zara rolled her eyes. “You are just fine. Some makeup, contacts, and a perm and you’d be every bit as hot as Merritt.”
Merritt’s ash-blond hair and surgically plumped lips flashed through my mind. “Zara, are you okay? Do you need an appointment with Mrs. ‘Call-Me-Birdy’ Bardot?”
She hid a smirk as she rolled her eyes at my reference to our eccentric guidance counselor.
Jordan spoke up, sitting beside Zara. “This isn’t about your weight, Rory. It’s about Merritt making everyone else feel like crap and never being put in her place.” She gestured at the motley group in the AV room. “We could do that.”
I seriously doubted her, but the hope in her eyes was starting to become contagious. I looked around the wobbling table. They were all on board for this.
“Level with me, guys,” I said. “You think I can make Beckett Langley—quarterback of the football team, six feet and two inches of muscles and charisma—fall for me?”
They nodded in unison.
“Without a doubt,” Zara said, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“Please,” Callie said. “We need this.”
Ginger nodded in agreement.
“And Beckett is hot,” Jordan said. “Are you seriously saying you wouldn’t want to date him?”
I hesitated. Was I really turning down help for this? For a chance with the dream guy?
My mouth fell open and closed and nerves fizzed in my stomach. “I...I don’t know. I don’t want to drag you guys in on this.”
Ginger scoffed. “Merritt dragged us in on this when she acted like we were somehow worth less because of our weight. She needs to understand that our curves are just that—curves. They don’t define us or our worth.”
“Preach,” Jordan said.
Callie nodded. “We all know Merritt’s done this since middle school, and it’s amazing that you stood up to her. Let us help.”
I looked at each of them, all looking back at me like I was some type of savior or figurehead. (Full figurehead?) I wanted to tell them no, but at the same time, I couldn’t turn them down. I was tired of people acting like fat girls deserved less just because of a number on the scale. It was time to make a change. “I’m in.”
“Good,” Zara said. “Meet us at the football field after school.”
“For what?” I asked. Popular kids and football groupies were the only people to hang out there and watch the team practice. I didn’t fit either of those descriptions.
Jordan’s smile became devious. “Recon.”
Four
As I left the school and walked along the sidewalk to the football field, I felt like every eye was on me, knowing about the scheme we’d half-baked in the AV room. The girls walking toward the bleachers weren’t like me. They were cute,