Art Geeks and Prom Queens Read Online Free PDF Page A

walk around campus and see if I could find something inspiring for my own project.
    She hands me a hall pass that’s dangling on a long string, so I slip it around my neck, grab my camera, and head out.
    In New York, my old school was like this big, imposing brick building that you entered at eight and left at three, and you rarely saw any daylight in between. But here, it’s the exact opposite. Instead of one big building, it’s like several smaller ones made of smooth beige stone with green-tinted glass windows, and they’re all connected by these sun-dappled, rambling walkways lined with flowers on one side and color-coordinated lockers on the other. There’s even a view of the ocean from the lunch area! I mean, it looks more like a resort than a high school, but then everything in Newport Beach is so polished and glossy and new (even the people!) that sometimes I wonder if we’ve accidentally moved to Stepford.
    I head out to the big athletic field behind the gym where there are some guys running around the track. And as I stand there watching them take the corner, I contemplate doing a whole “motion, speed, and glory” kind of theme. But since I’m not really into sports, I doubt it will hold my interest.
    I’m resting my camera against my shoulder, and trying to come up with something creative, when I notice Kristi and company sitting on the grass just a few feet away, and they just stop what they’re doing (inspecting their cuticles and gossiping) and stare.
    It’s the first time I’ve seen Kristi out of her cheerleading ensemblebut there’s no doubt it’s her. She’s wearing the same kind of terry-cloth drawstring shorts like my mom wears, a pair of silver Nikes, and a T-shirt with a picture of a seagull on it that says “Sea Crest High School” (which is what they make us wear when we do PE), and her long dark hair is in two braids. Her two friends are like total clones of her except that apprentice wanna-be number one has brown eyes and long red hair in two braids, and number two has long brown hair with major blond highlights, but I can’t see her eyes because they’re hidden behind a pair of big, black Versace sunglasses.
    So then all of a sudden they lean in really close to one another and give me this big fake smile and wave. And it seems really strange. And I’m not sure what to do. So I just sort of stand there and give a little wave back.
    And then Kristi goes, “Hey, Brazil. Take the picture already!”
    Brazil? Oh, very cute. And then I realize they’re posing for me. But I don’t really want to photograph them. But I also know that actually telling them that would make me a social casualty for the next two years (if I’m not one already).
    So I fake-take it.
    And then I go, “Thanks.”
    But when I turn to walk away, Kristi says. “I didn’t hear it click. You better take another.”
    So I go, “Oh. Really?” And then I peer at the camera, angling it in all these different ways, like I’m looking for a defect.
    Then Kristi says through clenched teeth with her lips barely moving, “Just take another one before my face cracks from smiling.”
    So I do.
    And this time when I push down on the shutter it makes that clicking sound, and the second it’s over she goes, I need to approve that before you use it for anything.”
    Like I’m with The
Enquirer
and she’s Jennifer Aniston. But I don’t say anything. I just nod and walk away.
     
    Lunch is definitely the scariest part of the day. It’s like thirty-five minutes of unstructured hell for the new girl. And even though I startedthe day thinking I had two new friends, the fact is now I’m not so sure.
    By the time I got back to class Mason and Jas were already gone and I had no idea where to find them. So I turned in the hall pass, expecting Ms. Tate to be mad that I was gone that whole time, but she just smiled.
    And since I snuck off campus yesterday, I’m not really sure what the lunch rules are, but I know they exist