Chapter Six — F is for Fine Day to Start Trouble, ay mate?

I didn’t sleep a wink last night.

I stayed up late and planned my moves.

The world wants to know what makes populars popular and I’ll be the one to answer.

My plan was to slowly and subtly infiltrate the world of the populars and learn first-hand what secrets they have and ultimately, how people like me in LittleWood can use it to their advantage.

I hurriedly put on a brown sweater — there’s no way in all of the entire freaking solar system and beyond am I wearing white to that prison ever again — a pair of black jeans and brown ugg boots.

I grabbed an apple, kissed my mom on the cheek, and dashed for school.

I wanted an early start before the halls got crowded.

I sat on the floor in front of my locker — good one Taylor. You are officially insane — and typed up day one of my project. I’ve never done this type of project before so I’m doing something new with it. I’m going to document all I manage to gather in the populazzi in a way that it won’t come back to bite me in the ass. Nova was the perfect cover.

“Well, this is new.”

I turned and found Henry in his worn-out jeans, a blue T-shirt, leaning on the locker. His long dark hair fell over his forehead in messy waves.

“You’re early,” I told him.

“I know, it’s normal since I live just one street down. But you? What happened? What did you do to Adrianna?”

I rolled my eyes.

“I didn’t do anything. I got an idea for another project of mine.”

“Oh sweet brother! Another one! May I remind you that the last one is the reason I can’t show off my immense knowledge of the world in geography anymore?”

“It’s not my fault you video-ed Miss Clinton break-dancing on her table and posted it online. I didn’t ask you for that.”

He removed his backpack and sat beside me, leaning in to see the letters on my laptop. His citrus soap smelt lovely — as usual.

Henry and I have been friends since forever. He was even closer to me than Rebecca ever got. We started school the same day, had the same age, and even shared the same birth month — March. Although I was born on 14th and him on the 20th.

I held my breath while Henry read my opener.

He and I created a blog a couple of years ago to post the pictures Henry took on his family’s numerous vacations. Our intention was purely for fun but when people started liking and following the page and asking who took the pictures, we created Nova Alejandro, reclusive, super-rich bad girl who didn’t care about anything and did what she wanted. It was fun to reply the messages as her. Henry finished reading my opener and shook his head.

“Why are you doing this under poor Nova’s name?” he shook his head. “We didn’t create her for this and I’m upset on her behalf. I wouldn’t mind much if you decided to completely humiliate yourself, because let’s face it, you’re good at little else but to drag Nova into this is crossing a line. I won’t stand for it.”

“Wow, just wow. First of all, I think you’re using all the energy your brain should be getting to grow your hair. Secondly, isn’t that precisely why we created Nova? To do such badass things that everyone else is afraid of doing? I’m sure she’d be OK with it.”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea, Tay. Please drop it and help me make another video for my YouTube channel. I promise to dedicate it to you,” he flashed a huge grin.

“No way! A huge opportunity in the form of anonymously spying on the populars just fell into my lap. I’m taking it.”

“Well,” he threw his hands up. “I tried. There’s no stopping ya.”

“So, will you help me?”

His eyebrow shot up and his expression asked me if I was crazy.

“Please! Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top? It’s foolproof, no one will know it’s me.” I gave him a puppy dog eye.

“Fine. Just because I want you to shut up.”

“Aaand?” I poked his chest and sides. “Maybe because you love me?”

“No. Maybe because you’re my best friend, if you get into trouble, I get into trouble,” he paused. “But I would really like to stay out of trouble, OK?”

I laughed, closing my laptop. I treasured my friendship with Henry, it kept me grounded in its own weird and unique way. Besides, I can’t think of anyone else who’d be OK with me constantly telling them they’re an idiot.

“How about starting movie night again? I’ve got some good movies.” He suggested.

Henry and I always watched movies every weekend. We’d start from letter A and work our way down to Z, cutting across every genre. He’d bring the movies and I’d make snacks starting with whichever letter we were watching. It was fun and we’d gotten closer through that. Indy’s mom never let her out after dusk and Rea was always busy with babysitting her brother, so it was just the two of us.

“Sure! That’d be great. Now I have to start thinking of snacks that start with letter A.”

He swung his backpack around his shoulder and stood up, offering his hand.

“You could make your legendary apple pie.”

“Right,” I took his hand and stood up. “Because the last time I did you completely ignored Avengers and ate it,” sarcasm dripped off every word.

He smiled, nodding at the memory. People were starting to arrive and some tried unsuccessfully to hold their laughter when they saw me.

I wouldn’t let that bother me. I’ve got a good project and that’ll definitely get me to be an anchor of LittleWood Reports. Mr. Lancaster can’t say no.

“I’m sorry, Taylor. But no,” said Mr. Lancaster while flipping pages on his clipboard.

What?

Mr. Lancaster was in charge of the studio. A short balding man that spoke like he just came down from a roller coaster ride, had a penchant for wearing the color red and reminded me of an elf with his pointy ears. I’d gone to see him immediately the bell for lunch rang.

“But, why not?”

“Well, firstly Taylor, the T in your name stands for trouble and making you anchor would mean possible destruction of this studio.”

I internally rolled my eyes because I didn’t want to seem rude.

Seriously? That was last freaking year dude.

“Secondly, we already have an anchor.”

“That’s not possible. School just started yesterday. Who would even volunteer for this stuff?”

Immediately, the door behind me opened. I turned around and found Rebecca in jeans, a formal pink jacket and absurdly tall heels.

“I’m ready for my job Mr. Lancaster,” her sickly sweet voice sang as she flashed a bright smile.

Rebecca. I should’ve known.

She cat-walked past us, one hand on hip, the other raised, toward the shiny marble-top table the news was always read and sat down on the swivel chair behind it. She snapped her fingers and out of nowhere Darcy appeared and fixed her lip-gloss.

“Seriously? Rebecca?” I turned to Mr. Lancaster.

“I’m sorry, Taylor. Rebecca is good. She has an eye for news and with her anchoring, I’ll be sure everyone watches.”

“But I wanted that position,” my voice cracked a little.

The full weight of disappointment fell on me and crushed my spirit. Why does Rebecca always upstage me and get the best places?

“As I said, I’m sorry, Taylor. You do have an eye for news too,” he put his finger on his chin and thought. “Why don’t you be Rebecca’s assistant? Two great news-finders in this studio working together would be amazing.”

Me? Assist Rebecca? Over my rotting corpse. She’d kill me! Or I’ll kill her. Either way, someone dies.

Rebecca had obviously been eavesdropping because she piped in with her annoying fake voice;

“Oh please, Taylor dear. I could use you. Don’t let her leave Mr. Lancaster, she’ll be a great assistant.”

“What do you say, Taylor? Can I count on you?” he was smiling.

“I don’t know.” I chewed my bottom lip in hesitation.

“Come on. A minute ago you were pleading to be in this. This is as good as it gets,” he leaned in and cupped his mouth away from Rebecca. “She never really does anything other than reading the news. You’ll be writing the news, making the calls — you’ll be doing everything a journalist does. Except read the news.”

I took a deep breath. I’m going to regret this.

I met her and Andrea walking towards class from the cafeteria.

“I agreed to be Rebecca's assistant,” I confirmed.

“You do realize you more or less signed someone's death certificate, right?” asked Andi.

We stopped beside the lockers.

“Yeah. Hopefully, it isn't mine.”

“You'd better pray and have pepper spray ready,” Indiana folded her arms over her purple top.

“You know I've got a new project in the works,” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“What!” they exclaimed simultaneously.

“What? What's wrong?” I asked, a little confused.

Why is everyone acting with horror every time I bring up my projects?

“You've lost it,” Indiana threw her hands up and spun around.

“Taylor, I don't deal in body parts or I would've happily lent you a brain. Why the heck are you still treading down that path? Do you not realize what destruction your projects bring?” Rea inquired.

“I haven't even told you what it's about yet,” I said incredulously.

I knew that my projects were a disaster but their reaction was a bit too excessive.

Rea was about to say something but Indy stopped her.

“Ok, Taylor. What is it about then?”