I hadn’t expected him to, but he leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s a friendship kiss. I want us to be friends.”

“Right. Exactly.” I felt like he was breaking up with me. “Well, I’ll see you later.”

I opened the door and went into the darkened house. Without turning on the lights, I put my purse on the hallway table and my corsage—which was now brown around the edges—into the fridge. I walked quietly up the stairs, checked in with my parents, then went to my room and kicked off my shoes. I slowly took off my earrings, necklace, and all the trappings of the evening.

The night was over, and yet in some ways it wasn’t. In some ways tonight was a beginning. The person I was going to become was just beginning to form, because I couldn’t stand to be the person I had been before. I could still see Josh’s face looking at me with disappointment—still hear Logan’s words as we danced. I went to the ball as Cinderella and then found out I was actually one of the wicked stepsisters.

I got in my pajamas and slipped into bed, trying to clear my mind of the images of the night: colorful dresses swishing around me, couples swirling by. Music blaring. I pressed my eyelids together tightly and imagined that instead of blankets, I was covered in a layer of thick green vines. Then in my mind, one by one, I turned over each leaf.

CHAPTER 14

The next day I got out my extra poster board, the markers, the scrapbook stuff, and then locked myself in my room. Very carefully, I made VOTE FOR AMY posters. I couldn’t undo that I’d helped tear her first ones down, but I could make her some new ones.

After dinner I went back to my room, and while I did my homework I resolved to be friendlier to everyone in school. I’d say hi to people in the hallway. I’d ask Cassidy what orphanage project she was working on next and volunteer to help. I’d even be nice to Elise.

See, I wanted to say to Logan. See, I’m not only thinking of myself.

On Monday I went to school early and put the Amy posters up before anyone was around. I didn’t worry too much about someone catching me; after all, there was no rule about putting posters up for an opponent.

I thought about resigning from the race. I really did. I wondered if that would be the only way to completely redeem myself for what I’d done. But then again, I hadn’t actually done anything to hurt Amy’s chances for winning. I hadn’t smeared her name the way Rick had smeared mine. I’d just made her redo all of her posters.

These thoughts still edged around my mind as I put up the last poster. I surveyed it for a minute, then went to put the tape away in my locker. I didn’t feel like standing and ogling with my friends on the front landing, so I took my biology book from my locker and sat down on the floor to read the next assignment.

I wasn’t sure what to say to Chelsea or how I should act when I saw her next. I wanted to be angry and blame everything on her, but in truth I knew she hadn’t set out to sabotage my campaign. Of course, she should have told me Cassidy hadn’t done the sabotaging, but I even found this hard to be angry about. I kept asking myself what I would have done in Chelsea’s place. If I’d made a horrible mistake and my friends had already blamed it on someone else, would I have straightened them out? Would I have done the right thing or the wrong thing?

I thought about all of the insults I’d wanted to utter over the last two weeks, Amy’s posters, and the way I’d treated Cassidy.

Not only did it deflate all of my anger but it made me feel really depressed too. It seemed like the last few weeks had been nothing but a revelation of all my faults.

I flipped open my biology book and tried to push these thoughts away. The chapter heading read, “Predators and prey, the life struggle of the ecosystems.” Hmm. I got to read about things killing other things. That might take my mind off my problems.

This is what I’d sunk to. I was now finding escapism in the food chain.

I hadn’t read for very long before I noticed someone standing beside me. I looked up and saw Logan.

“I’m ready,” he said.

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to pass out VOTE FOR SAMANTHA flyers on the front steps.”

I stared at him for a moment longer, and he said, “Remember our bet?”

“Oh, yeah.” I shrugged, and then returned to my book. “You don’t really have to do that.”

I expected him to go away. He didn’t. “Yes, I do. A bet’s a bet. I would have really made you go out with Doug if I’d won, so now I have to really pass out flyers for you.”

I looked back up. “You would have made me go out with Doug Campton? Doug, the Hot Babes calendar guy?”

When he didn’t deny it, I went on with indignation. “And you accuse me of being shallow? If you had any sense of integrity, you would have died before you let me go out with Doug.”

“Yeah, yeah. If I’d been trying to protect your dating schedule with my life, I would have been dead in the eighth grade.”

I glared at him. It was just so easy to do.

He held out his hand to me. “So where are the flyers?” When I didn’t say anything, he said, “Really. I’ll do a good job. I won’t draw little mustaches on your picture or anything.”

“I’m not passing them out today.”

“Tomorrow then?”

I tried to find my place in my book. “I don’t know.”

Instead of leaving, he sat down by me. He leaned over and said, “Would this have anything to do with the fact that you made posters for Amy?”

I still stared down at my book. “Who said I made posters for Amy?”

He sighed, then took the book from my hands. I grabbed for it, but he held it to his side, away from me. I would have had to crawl over him to get it, and I wasn’t about to do that. I looked at his face to see why he was being so difficult, and when I did, he said, “I’ve known you for forever, Samantha. I recognize your handwriting. I see it on every book order you place.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t counted on this possibility. I wondered who else would recognize my handwriting and if I would be answering this question all day. What would I say to all the people who asked me why I’d made posters for my competitor?

“Well?” he asked. He wasn’t waiting around for me to come up with a well-thought-out explanation.

“I did it because . . .”

“Because you were the one who tore down Amy’s posters?”

“Who told you that?” Was it common knowledge? Had everyone known all along that I’d done it? The thought made my heart pound in my chest. Everyone thought less of me.

Logan smiled like it was a silly question. “I figured it was either you or Rick, and it’s your handwriting on the new Amy posters.”

“Oh.” I blushed at being so easily caught. Slowly I said, “It was in retaliation for making those flyers about me. Only I just found out it was Rick who actually made the flyers, so I . . .”

“Made new posters for Amy.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” He handed my book back to me and said softly, “For what it’s worth, you have my vote.”

He smiled at me then, and it’s funny, but that smile meant more to me than anything had for a long time. He stood up to go, but before he walked off, he said, “We’re still on for dinner on Saturday, right? You’re not letting me off on that part of the bet are you?”

“Naw,” I said back. “I still have a craving for lobster.”

After fourth period, instead of walking to the cafeteria like I usually did, I walked over to Cassidy’s locker. She was just pulling her lunch bag out.

“Hi,” I said, “do you have a minute?”

She shut her locker door. “Sure.” She said the word tightly, as though she wasn’t pleased about talking to me for even sixty seconds.

I gripped my own lunch sack tighter. “Cassidy, I owe you an apology. I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry about everything. I was wrong.”