Free Awkward by Marni Bates Page A

me.
    The policewoman kept her hand firmly clamped on my shoulder until I was safe from the paparazzi. Even inside the English building, she didn’t ditch me. She steered me over to the nearest drinking fountain.
    “Drink,” she ordered. I obeyed her instinctively. My mouth must have become dry during my impromptu interview—something I’d failed to notice. Just like I hadn’t realized my hands were shaking like hummingbird wings.
    “Feel better?” she asked, once I gulped my fill.
    I didn’t trust my voice, so I just nodded.
    “Good.” She looked at me appraisingly and then shook her head. I thought I caught pity in her eyes. “Next time: head down, shoulders back, no eye contact, no faltering, and you’ll be just fine. Now get to class.”
    I was following her instructions when she called out, “Ms. Wellesley.”
    I turned around.
    “Good luck.”
    She had no idea just how much I needed it.

Chapter 13
    T here were eyes everywhere. No matter where I turned, I met half a dozen stares. Every single movement I made was analyzed—my nervous habit of tucking my brown hair behind my ears was documented. I could hear the persistent clicking of cell phone cameras, and I tried my hardest not to flinch, hide my face, or flee into the girls’ bathroom.
    In all my time at Smith High School, I’d never felt more isolated and alone.
    At least no one made fun of me anymore. The same jerk who had imitated me in a falsetto voice now eyed me speculatively without saying a word. I was definitely no longer an Invisible. It was like a new category had been created just for me: the Spectacle. Everyone observed but nobody spoke to me. Great.
    Even Jane and Corey were affected. They pretended things were normal, but they were clearly rattled by this new level of visibility. Jane kept scanning the other lunch tables as if expecting an attack. Like some kid was going to scream, “ReadySet should have used
me
in their music video!” before opening fire on our table. Teenagers had done stupider things for worse reasons.
    “So …” Corey said conversationally. “Are you going?”
    I looked up from the muffin I was systematically mangling into a pile of crumbs. “Huh?”
    “The ReadySet concert tomorrow. Are you going?”
    “Are they playing nearby?” I asked blankly.
    “Portland, Rose Garden, tomorrow night, seven-thirty.”
    I glanced at Jane. She was still staring at the kids who were staring at us.
    Great.
    “O-kay,” I said slowly. “Cool. But even if it hasn’t sold out, I couldn’t afford a ticket.”
    “I was hoping you could use your, er, connections to score us some seats.”
    I nearly choked on my Diet Coke. “Connections? I don’t have any
connections
.”
    “Since you’re in the music video, it’s only right that you are invited to the show.” He flashed his slightly wicked grin. “Maybe you could bring some friends who would
kill
to go to a ReadySet concert. Friends who wouldn’t mind driving into Portland for the show or footing the gas bill.”
    “I get it,” I said, laughing. It’s pretty hard to be offended by Corey—maybe because his ploys are always so obvious. “I’ll let you know if anything turns up, I promise.”
    He leaned back in his chair, pleased with himself. He was wearing a plaid shirt and skinny jeans that somehow didn’t look creepy on him, which was impressive since most guys can’t pull off the look. Corey jerked his head and his bangs swished to one side. Seriously, they
swished.
My hair never obeys me like that.
    “What about you, Jane,” I asked. “Anything you want me to score?”
    “What?” She jerked back into the conversation. “Sorry, I was distracted by the fact that
everyone in the school is staring at us!
”
    “Look, there’s nothing I can do about the attention. A few days from now this will all be over.”
    “In the meantime, have you considered hiring a stylist?”
    Before I could answer Corey, Logan slid into an empty seat next to Jane. The