Chapter Four
Breakfast, Lunch & Diner
First
of all you should know that the Belly Up Diner is where we – Ethan and I - go
for breakfast at least once a week.
I
usually have my babysitting money by then and Ethan has his money from working
at the local country club parking cars. Ethan always insists on paying, though,
which is surprisingly gentlemanly of him. I love that old-fashioned stuff where
boys pay. Ethan has had to withstand a ton of family pressure to help out in
his dad’s legal firm instead of finding his own way. In fact, his Dad nearly
went ballistic when Ethan got a job on weekends at the country club but Ethan
doesn’t like to be beholden to anyone. He intends to focus on international
conflict resolution at college and has a plan to ease global poverty. Ethan thinks
he’s way smarter than me, though, which is probably his biggest vice. I hate it
when men underestimate women, don’t you? The good part about Ethan’s
superiority complex is that Ethan is teaching me to have a good work ethic. For
example, before we started hanging out together, I only worked one day a week at
the animal shelter but now I work two.
He
doesn’t know that, in return, I’m teaching him about how to be popular, how not
to be such a hopeless geek and care so little about fashion. Ethan just laughs
and thinks I’m trying to be funny when I adjust his collars. He doesn’t think
he cares about fashion fads. So wrong, Ethan, but I guess he’ll learn what the
ladies like after he’s learned the error of his ways.
“So
Honey,” he said, “What are we having?”
“The usual,” I replied. The usual was pancakes dripping with maple
syrup.
We
sat in our favorite window seat, overlooking the park.
I
love Sunrise. It’s the next suburb along from Bel Air and a little town in its
own right. Parts of it aren’t as gated as Bel Air but the sun always seems to
be shining here and tons of my friends live near this very street. Sunrise High
is just a few streets away from The Los Angeles High School for Young Ladies.
My sister, Maya, went there but she’s tres clever and a total snob. Well, I
think she is – a snob about cleverness.
“I
mean, I’d never describe myself as academic, but I’m an A student when I apply
myself,” I explained to Ethan that morning.
“What in? The history of fashion?” he asked jokingly.
We’ve been coming here since I was nine and
Ethan was ten. Back then, his grown up
cousin Mark (who was a high school senior) would take us here after school with
his sister.
As
we wait for our food (I ordered a side of strawberries, Ethan ordered his with caramelized bananas) I start to go over my
schedule for the day.
I
warn Ethan as I go through my blog whilst he checks his subject notes and the
news headlines – he’s very serious like that – that I intend to meet my friends
at the front gate before school.
“If you
haven’t brought some kind of hot jacket to cover up the decidedly uncool band
on your t-shirt, I might have to pretend I don’t know you,” I said.
Ethan just smiled and rolled his nice, blue
eyes. He’s so used to just getting by on his looks and charm. I’m not sure how
he thinks that’s going to cut it at Sunrise.
Ethan insisted on paying because ‘I always feed him,’ which is true, of
course.
I adjust
my new over-the-knee new boots before we leave. Everyone thinks they’re so
retro 90s but what everyone doesn’t know is that I’m bringing them back. They
are in this season, now, not last. I cheerily adjust my blog on my tablet to
mention this as I wait for Ethan to text either Gigi or Ariel.
“So,
how’s your fashion blog going, Em?” For a moment I think Ethan’s really
interested in my answer but then he adds, “I think blogging is far less
counterproductive than matchmaking. I’m sure you could do less damage with bad
fashion choices than bad people ones…”
“My
fashion blog is pending an update and dating tips,” I told Ethan.
“Oh,” he replied, sounding very bored.
“Yes, I’ve decided to include fashion picks for the month of October.”
As if to prove this I took a snap of a customer – asked if she’d be okay with
me posting it – she said, “sure” and hey presto – a new post.
Ethan
opens the door as we leave. I could be all, I
can open my own door, but I would never be as rude as that. Besides, I’m
training Ethan up. I like it when he opens a heavy door. Most men have thirty
percent more upper body strength than most women. So, hello, it’s not
anti-feminist. It’s polite. It’s why you should always let them carry grocery
bags if they offer. And just because most boys are physically stronger than
girls, doesn’t mean they are smarter.
Ethan glances over my shoulder as he checks my seat belt.
After
a ten minute drive, he pulls into the student car park in his totally hot new
car and makes such a spectacle of himself just by getting out that I have to
quickly head over to my friends who are waiting at the gate to meet me. I turn
back, thinking I should at least try to be polite even if Ethan is taking over
my turf.
The
first person I saw was Veronica, side braiding a little piece of her red hair.
Veronica is very new wave conscious. Then Jess is waving excitedly in our
direction. Most of my friends are
daughters of former Princesses but some, like me, are first generation
recruits.
“Isn’t
she one of your little clique members?” Ethan asked.
“Maybe.
We’re not just a clique – we help people.”
“Who’s
she?” he asked, pointing at Hilary.
I shrugged.
At
that exact moment the ‘new girl’ who looked to be about my age, alighted from
her Dad’s car. He had some kind of dog washing business stenciled on the doors of
his car.
“Looks
like you might have a new project since you ‘fixed’ Veronica.”
Veronica was madly waving at us now. Her skirt
was one of my hand me downs (I’d only worn it once) but it looked amazing on
her. I only wish she hadn’t gone so ‘fashion forward’ as getting a nose job
over the summer. First of all, plaster is not hot for the first day of semester
and second of all, the Princesses would never condone teen plastic surgery
purely for cosmetic purposes. I’d hate to think I encouraged her to do that
just because I agreed that her nose was huge (well, she asked, didn’t she?) How
would anyone respect me as unofficial leader of my group if I didn’t tell the
truth?
I
was thinking this exact thing before Ethan rudely interrupted my train of
thought. Already he’d done something seriously uncool by stopping to admire
Rafe Martin’s sky planet mobile in the admin office window. Rafe is all about
computer games and the universe.
On
the opposite side of the road, the new girl had just dropped all of her
belongings on the ground. The driver of the car she arrived in, sped off. She
appeared to be lost as she gathered her things and searched the school map.
Ethan
made his move to help her. He even rushed across the road to the other side.
I
have to admit, I was tempted to ignore the whole situation. But, in this
instance, Ethan led the way. He may have even inspired me to take my
matchmaking plans to another level. If new girl was a hot teen mess and
couldn’t even read a map let alone
herself in a more becoming way, maybe my team could help.
It
was like a light turned on inside me.
I
wandered over and said “hi,” as Ethan pointed her in the direction of
administration. I noticed she was wearing a colorful array of scrunchies in her
hair. Very early Nineties: not cool.
“I’m Honey Woodhouse,” I said. “This is my
neighbor, Ethan Knightly.”
“Hi,” she smiled sweetly. “I’m Hilary Jones.”
“I
know,” I said confidently. I’d seen her profile picture.
Hilary
had a great smile. I smiled back as she and Ethan walked up the hill towards
the admin block.
Just then, new boy Flynn Elton drove into the car park and pulled up
near me with a loud screech. He was driving some sort of ‘restored’ red
Mustang. A few girls actually cheered. Flynn is hot but those girls are doing
him no favors by making him feel like a rock star.
As Ethan and Hilary became dots in the distance, I contemplated my
mission.
It
was one thing to have helped Phoebe find happiness but Phoebe was one of the
most accomplished, intelligent, amazing women I knew. Let’s face it, if I could
even be half so wonderful when I’m as ancient as her, I would be doing
brilliantly.
No, Ethan was right. Phoebe marrying Mark was inevitable; hardly the result
of any great accomplishment on my part. Finding
a true love for a girl who might otherwise be overlooked would be far more
difficult. What I needed was a real challenge. What I needed was to make someone
like Hilary Jones… popular.
