seul’s Reviews > Perfect Cover > Status Update

What was a girl to do? I kicked him in the shin, and nor one of the other cheerleaders glared at me. They were too busy trying to figure out how I'd managed to get a date with Jack "Unattainable" Peyton in under two minutes.

"Chip, if you try to look down my shirt one more time, I'm going to have to hurt you."

Chip, student body president and generic hottie, grinned. "Would you please?" he asked. The rest of the guys grinned lecherously at Chip's wit.

I was too busy pondering this turn of events to answer Jack, and someone (my money was on one of the twins, who’d arrived just in time to put in an appearance and pick up on the fact that I'd defaced my shirt) kicked me sharply under the table.

"Ow!" I shrieked.

"I'Il take that as a yes, then," Jack said. "Pick you up at seven."

"You know, Ev," he said, "a little sparkle never hurt a girl."

"Bite me, Peyton."

"Love to, he said. "Does that mean we're on for tonight?"

The other girls gawked at me. I'd done more or less nothing but insult him, and he'd asked me out.

I couldn't stand the look on his face. "Congratulations," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "It must be a great honor."

He broke into a grin then, and it changed his face in a way that I had to admit wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Well, if it isn't Everybody-Knows-Toby."

Well, I thought, if it isn't Smirky McJerkface.

Out loud, I censored myself. A little. "Well, if it isn't… you."

"It is indeed me," he said.

"If someone made Lucy cry, she said, "what would you do?"

My answer? Odd, but probably the same thing I did when someone threatened Noah.

"When Tara asked you to seduce Jack, what did you say?"

I'd said yes.

"And if you heard gunshots in Chloe's lab right now, what would you do?"

I looked away. "Point taken."

I glanced around the room nervously. Four walls, no visible door, and I was pretty sure I couldn't "EXIT, OKAY!" under pressure. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide—just me, trapped alone in what looked like the world's most high-tech salon, with twin fashionistas who had been authorized to administer a Stage Six makeover.

"So" she said brightly. "We still have like twenty minutes before you have to report to the salon. Wanna blow stuff up?"

All things considered, that was the nicest thing anyone had said to me all day.

"I think we should kick out Hayley Hoffman," I said, taking a stand. The others looked at me, and I improvised. "Her bitquo is too high, and we're already at capacity."

"Bitquo?" Tara might have been fighting back a smile as she spoke. It was hard to tell. I looked at Brittany (also known as Miss We-Already-Have-to-Deal-with-Toby-the-Social-Reject) as I answered. "Bitch quotient."