The worst was yet to come. There was an assembly scheduled that day, during the next-to-last period-- another one of those dull programs on the environment. They'd been having them every week--on global warming, recycling, all kinds of boring topics. Amanda had no idea what this week's subject was, and she didn't care--she had bigger things to worry about than the future of the dumb planet.
But everyone liked assemblies, even boring ones. You got out of class, and assemblies were a good excuse to spend time with your friends. You could sit wherever you wanted, so it was like the cafeteria, where the cliques could gather. Best of all, assemblies were usually held in the gym and the students sat on the bleachers. The coolest kids commandeered the highest level, where they could ignore the speakers and talk to one another without being seen by the teachers.
Amanda's gang always sat on the top row of the left side, farthest from the stage. Automatically, she went down to that end of the gym and started up the stairs. She was more than halfway to the top when she was confronted with a sight more horrifying than--well, than any massacre in any horror movie that Amanda had ever seen.
There they were: Nina, Britney, Sophie, Emma, and Katie--and they hadn't saved a space for her. Instead, they'd allowed Cara Winters and Terri Boyd to join them. And now they were squeezing themselves together even more tightly to let in Heather Todd. Heather Todd! Who, just that very morning, had been thrilled to give Amanda a completely illegal photocopy of Ken's class schedule! How was this possible? This couldn't be happening to her. How could someone's reputation totally collapse in one crummy day?
Now Emma had seen her, and she was nudging the others. They were all looking at her, standing there all alone, with no place to sit. For what would have to be the one and only time in Amanda's life, she wished she were Tracey Devon and could just vanish.
But she was Amanda Beeson, ruler of all that was cool at Meadowbrook Middle School, and if nothing else, she could try to preserve some dignity. Refusing to meet anyone's eyes--but knowing full well that all eyes were on her--she turned and walked down the steps. Now she knew how Marie Antoinette must have felt on her way to the guillotine or how Anne Boleyn had felt when she faced her executioner. Fallen queens, all of them.
By the time she'd reached the bottom, the program was beginning and she had to take the first seat available, at the end of a row of nerdy brainiacs who probably actually cared about the environment. At least they weren't paying any attention to her. They didn't even notice her, and for once she was grateful for that.
And unlike Marie Antoinette or Anne Boleyn, she still had a head and she could use it. She would not fall apart. She would deal with this situation and she would overcome it. She would reclaim her throne.
But how? That was the big question. And so she went back to that conversation with Jenna in the restroom and began to consider Jenna's suggestion again.
From her bag, she pulled out the copy of Ken's class schedule. According to it, he had gym class after the assembly. Excellent. This meant that after the last bell, he'd need a few extra minutes to change his clothes. That would give her time to get to that end of the building and position herself somewhere unnoticeable but from where she could see him emerge. Her plan was to follow him home, and just before he arrived, she would corner him.
At that point, she had two options. She could flirt--but that hadn't worked so far. The second possibility was to discover something about him that would elicit her sympathy and, she hoped, give her the means to take over his body. She strongly suspected that this option was the better one. If she could control Ken, she could make him do what she wanted him to do: hang out with Amanda, date Amanda, make the whole school believe that he was madly in love with Amanda, and put her back up on the pedestal where she belonged. And even if it wasn't real, even if he didn't want her once she gave him back his body, so what? She'd already be back on top, and she could let everyone think she'd broken up with him, which would give her only more prestige.
Yes, the second option was definitely the one to go with. True, she'd never before tried to take over a body on purpose, but Amanda Beeson always got what she wanted. And if she wanted her life back, she'd figure out a way.
Somehow, she made it through her last class without having to pay too much attention. The second the bell rang, she was out the door, and in minutes she was at the other end of the school building. There was an exit just outside the gym from which Ken would undoubtedly emerge, and she stationed herself around the side of the building. She'd see him come out, he'd pass without seeing her, and she could follow him from a safe distance. Behind her and down a small slope was the playing field, and as she waited, she could hear the soccer team gathering out there for their after school practice.
She didn't have to wait long. And she was in luck--he was alone. She plastered herself against the wall to make sure he didn't see her when he passed.
Unfortunately, he didn't go in the direction that she'd anticipated. He turned and walked right past her. But fortunately, he behaved just as he'd been behaving toward her lately. He didn't even see her.
He was watching the soccer practice. His back was to her as he stood on the edge of the slope and gazed out at the boys on the field. She couldn't see his face, but something about his posture made her think that he wasn't in a very good mood.
He'd been the captain of the soccer team, she remembered. Then he'd had some kind of bad accident, and he couldn't play anymore. He probably missed his sport.
She edged along the wall to get into a position where she could have a better look at him. She wasn't any good at reading faces, and she certainly couldn't read his mind, but maybe he'd notice her and be happy to have some company. Once she could see his face, she knew he was feeling something stronger than simple regret.
She'd never seen a boy look so sad before. He must have really loved playing soccer. She could almost swear she saw a tear in his eye, which was ridiculous, of course, because cool guys like Ken didn't cry.
Or did they? Because now she could see the tear trickling down his cheek. Stunned, it took her a moment to react before she scampered out of his line of sight. He'd be so humiliated if a girl saw him crying!
She gave up on her plan to follow him and started toward home. All the way there, that image of Ken kept flashing before her eyes. What was that all about? She'd heard that guys could be seriously devoted to their sports. Her own father loved golf, and if he couldn't play for some reason, he'd probably feel kind of sad. But he wouldn't ay. Soccer must have really meant a lot to Ken. He'd looked totally depressed.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get that image of him out of her mind. It was funny, in a way. Seeing a guy looking all demoralized like that certainly wasn't a turn-on. It didn't make Ken very appealing as a potential boyfriend. Some girls might like the sensitive type, but not Amanda. Public displays of emotion, particularly by boys, weren't her thing.
Lying in bed that night, she couldn't sleep. If she had to write off Ken as a possible way to get back her crown, what were her other options? She could make a huge fuss and demand that her parents get her out of that stupid gifted class, but that could also make things worse. It would be like admitting that the gifted class had been a bad place to be, and it would raise only more questions.
She tried to think of other actions she could take, but for some reason, she couldn't concentrate. This was truly bizarre, because she never had a hard time thinking about herself---she was her own favorite subject. But her mind kept going back to Ken and his expression while he watched the soccer practice.