Page 26 of It's in the Contract
This is a wild, crazy, possibly stupid idea. It’s definitely not going to be easy. If Zeke agrees, we are going to epically shake things up at Monte Ville High. But if I want to win, that may be what it takes. I can’t win by campaigning for votes from the popular kids. Brielle is going to get most of those.
I’ve got to do something completely, totally different.
“Zeke.”
He glances at me sideways. The rain on the windshield pounds harder, and Zeke flips the lever to turn up the wipers. “Yes?”
“Can I propose a deal?”
“Okay.”
Zeke pulls into my driveway. I was so engaged in my thoughts that I hardly noticed we’d reached home.
He parks the car and looks at me with those earnest eyes. “Go on.”
I swallow. This plan really is nuts, and it could backfire. But for Suzy, I have to try. I think of the approving smile on Mom’s face when she sees me with that crown, the swell of pride that will fill my chest.I have to try.“You want your parents to think you’re making friends, right? And you definitely can’t lose your gaming systems.”
Zeke nods. “Absolutely. But?—”
“But you can’t allow your heart to get hurt again.”
His face softens. “Right. You get it.”
“I get it.” Deep breath. “I need someone to get me in with the nerd crowd, to help me win their votes for Homecoming Queen. I can’t do that alone. They won’t accept me if I just go around asking for them to vote for me, they’ll think I’m being superficial. I need a friend who is . . .” I pause. Zeke is focused, his brown eyes meeting mine. “One of them. I need . . . you. If I start trying to be friendly with the nerds, they’ll just turn me away. I’ve never really made that much of an effort before.” I swallow, ashamed. While I’ve never been an outright jerk like Brielle can be, I haven’t made an effort to expand my circle of friends, either. “I’m sorry about that, and I want to change. But the nerds won’t accept me without some help. So that’s where you come in.”
Zeke’s brow furrows. It’s an adorable expression on him, and—whoa. Where did that come from? “So . . . what do you suggest?”
“We pretend to be friends. It won’t be real,” I hurry to add. “We’ll eat lunch together; we can hang out in and outside of school if you like. I’ll come over to your house, we can post about it on social media and make sure your parents see it, all of that good stuff. I know you’re kind of a loner now, but I think it could still work. The nerds see you as one of them. If I hang out with you, I’m like a proxy nerd.”
Zeke blinks. “You’d do that for me?”
There’s a queasy feeling in my stomach. This is a good plan, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. People will talk. Thinking about what happened to Destiny Chodekwitz makes my stomach do a flip. After she started dating her nerdy boyfriend—Vince, I think his name was?—she lost all of her friends. He was captain of the chess team, a member of the anime club, and he did origami in all of his classes. So, yeah.
People whispered about Destiny in the hallways and how far she’d fallen. Everywhere she went people walked the other way, giggling not-so-subtly behind their hands. I can’t imagine enduring that kind of humiliation.
But Destiny wasdatinga nerd. This will be different.
By being Zeke’s “friend,” I’m taking a risk. But I have to hope that being a nerd’s friend won’t be seen with the same disdain as dating one would be. I breathe out. Still, I’ll definitely be breaking the mold.
But Monte Ville High could stand to have the mold broken.
“I would,” I say. “In return, you will help convince the nerd crowd to vote for me.”
Zeke shuts off the car. “Callie, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to contribute.”
I hold up a hand. “I know, I know. You don’t really know any of them. But you have your YouTube channel.” I raise my eyebrows. “And you did say that lots of people at school follow you. You have some influence.”
His face is still skeptical.
“And listen,” I continue. “Just by being around you, it will change the way they see me. I’m not just some other jerkwad popular girl who thinks everyone else is beneath me. I don’t want to come across that way. Not to anyone.”
“I know you’re not that way,” Zeke says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. The movement tousles his curls. “I just . . . I don’t see why you needmeto accomplish that.”
I let out a breath. “Zeke, at our school, no one leaves their social circles. You stay where you’re put, in the mold they choose for you. We’re all like sugar cookies.”
“Sugar cookies?”
“Yes! All of us at the top of the social ladder are cut from the same vanilla dough. No one accepts any of the other cookies, no matter how interesting or unique they are.”
