I could be one of those girls who just likes morphing her look.
Whatever. Claudia had said the key was owning it. As long as I owned it, no one would question.
Okay, then. I'd own it.
I ran in just as the bell rang, threw my books in my locker, dashed into English class ... and directly into the crosshairs of the one person who would never let my new look go unquestioned.
"Trick or treat," Mr. Woodman said as I took my regular top-of-the-table perch. I pressed my lips together in a grimace and hoped he was finished.
He wasn't. "How appropriate that you dressed up for The Crucible. I can only imagine what you'll wear when we start Moby-Dick. Any thoughts?"
I knew he wanted me to do my usual thing. It wouldn't have been hard: he'd set me up with a giant white sperm whale. But I didn't like that he was calling me out for the way I looked. It wasn't cool.
"No thoughts," I murmured.
Mr. Woodward's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oooh. Are you a good witch or a bad witch?'"
Great. Now he was quoting The Wizard of Oz. I didn't respond. I just slinked off the table and into my chair.
I could feel Archer staring at me. The whole time he was away, I'd texted him everything about my ongoing transformation, but I guess seeing it was pretty jarring. I was dying to talk to him about it, but I had to wait.
"Hey," he said in the hall after class, "you have a little something on your face." He reached out as if he was going to brush something away with his thumb, then said, "Oh, wait, that's just a ridiculously insane amount of makeup."
"You say that like you didn't help engineer the look, Professor Higgins."
"Maybe I'm having second thoughts."
"Now you're having second thoughts?"
"Look at yourself. You don't even look like you."
I grinned. "I know. It's kind of cool, right?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Because!" He took a deep breath and calmed down, then added, "'I've grown accustomed to your face.'"
He looked at me pointedly, like that was supposed to mean something beyond the words themselves. It didn't.
"My face is still here," I said. "It's just slathered with stuff."
He didn't answer.
"Archer, come on! This isn't a big deal! We talked about it. The look is a tool so I can get to know a really interesting guy. Is that so horrible?"
"Is what so horrible: the theory or the actual look?"
"Either! Just ... are you still going to help me or not?"
"I'll help you," he said. "Meet me here at the start of fifth period."
He slouched off, and I happily let my mind wander to the next phase of NateGate. Nate had lunch fifth period, just like Archer and I. Yet as I'd discovered, Nate preferred sitting outside and playing guitar to actually eating.
Archer's plan was that he'd go to Nate with some trumped-up excuse to chat. I'd come along, Archer would introduce me, and ideally something approaching a conversation would ensue.
Archer was under absolute orders not to leave Nate and me alone. He had to stick around and make sure I didn't do anything to embarrass myself and ruin everything. He was fine with that, but it meant the conversation had to be quick. Halfway through fifth period, Archer was due to meet the rest of the Theater Geeks and run lines for that afternoon's spring musical auditions. The show was Little Shop of Horrors, and Archer was going for the role of Seymour, the male lead. Little Shop was one of the few musicals I knew really well. The movie version was one of Karl's favorites, so he'd had us all watch it together a zillion times. I knew Archer would be perfect for Seymour, but I also understood he'd be way too nervous to function if he didn't get in this last practice.
One minute into fifth period, Archer and I crunched over the partly frozen grass, on our way to Nate's favorite rock. We could already see him, strumming, lost in his music. His back was to us. As we got closer, I felt a hot crawl of nerves race over my scalp. I stopped in my tracks.
Archer wasn't the only one having second thoughts.
I'd spent the past three weeks so involved in the excitement of becoming someone new, I'd kind of lost track of the reason. Now here it was: this complete stranger was in front of us, and I was supposed to make him my boyfriend. Did I even want