Best Served Fake

twenty-seven // nothing like a play about piss

I've never been the kind of girl who gets noticed at school.

Not that I was disliked or unpopular or ignored, exactly. But I kept mostly to myself, was generally friendly with most of my peers, and was more known for my association with Sydney and Tommy than I was for any of my own achievements. I was average at sport, maybe a little better than average at academics, and had never partaken in anything of note, really, in terms of clubs or extracurriculars. I'd participated in the chorus of one school music, but wouldn't exactly be branded a theatre kid. I volunteered to edit the videos for the Year 11 camp, and I'd done a passable job of it, but nothing so spectacular to be branded a genius. I had hobbies and interests, but none that I was a prodigy in. I was somewhere close to funny, I supposed, but not in the kind of way that meant I was the class clown. I was pretty, but not in the doubletake kind of way that Isabelle and Sydney were; not in a way that garnered attention.

I was completely and overwhelmingly normal.

Apparently, your popular boyfriend sleep with your ridiculously attractive and attention-seeking best friend at a party attended by half the year level, having the infamous Jamie Miller relay that information to the whole school and then attending the next party on the arm of resident bad boy, arguably hottest guy in the school and renowned noncommittal Kai Delaney, who was also the known crush of said ex-best friend and enemy of said ex-boyfriend, and then participating in a dirty make out session with him in front of everyone... well, apparently that was news-worthy. This was evident, because I was the recipient of even more attention at school on Monday than I had been the previous week. Students whispered behind their hands, pointing without any subtlety at me as I walked down the hallways.

When Kai paid for my lunch on Tuesday, Alyssa Vaughn's eyebrows shot skyward from her spot in the line behind us.

And on Wednesday, when Kai slung his arm around my shoulders as I was chatting to Will in PE, a group of girls near us broke into a fit of giggles.

Thursday, Kai showed up after my English class to offer me a lift home, and Philip Wong wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at us.

So, there was no surprise on Friday when Ms. Leonard read out a list of names and every pair of eyes in the room swung toward me.

"Valerie Williams, Tommy Aster, Sydney Collins, Will Kennedy and Kai Delaney."

Fuck.

It was an impromptu responsible drinking seminar for the year level, where a preppy woman in a purple t-shirt spoke to us all about ensuring that we all drank water and ate a fistful of food before drinking. She was quite good actually, though all my goodwill toward her vanished when I heard who I was to be grouped with for our mini-play about alcohol safety. Why would a mini-play be required, really, and why, oh why, could I not just be with Will and Kai?

I looked longingly to Jamie, Seb and Cora, who'd been paired with two girls from my English class. Cora gave me a sympathetic smile, and Jameson shot daggers with his eyes at the table near us that was host to Tommy and Sydney.

Clearly, the teachers had tried to pair people up with their friends. Unfortunately, while my drama had reached the ears of all of my classmates, apparently teachers weren't clued into idle gossip. I never thought I'd wish my teachers knew about my sex life, but I would cop that mortifying result if it got me out of this.

I refused to look at Sydney or Tommy as I marched toward their table, Kai's hand on my elbow and Will in tow.

"Valerie," Sydney said, when I slid into the seat as far away from her and Tommy as possible. Her voice was beseeching; equal parts tentative happiness and hesitant wariness. Her eyes flicked to my sides; Will and Kai flanked me, sitting either side of me; two tall, imposing bodyguards. "Valerie, hi."