Page 3 of I Dare You
I’m no one, remember.
Happy hunting…
TEN YEARS AGO
“You can’t sit with us.”
I peer down at my pink corduroy dress and wonder what I did wrong.
I overheard Robin mention that they wear pink on Fridays, so I dressed in the prettiest pink dress I own.I even threaded sparkly pink laces through my sneakers.
But as Robin, Rachel, and Rebecca look at me like a piece of bubble gum on the bottom of their shoes, I realize that no matter how much pink I wear, I’ll never be one of them.
They’re known as the triple thReats.The most popular girls at school whose names all start with the letter “R.”
Everyone wants to be their friend.
Everyone wants to be them.
Robin, Rachel, and Rebecca are the untouchables—we can only look, not touch.But I thought that maybe if I followed their rule, then I could at least sit with them at lunch.
I was wrong.
Robin simply stares at me like I’m stupid, drumming her fingers along her folded arms.
“I—”
Rachel intervenes.“I don’t care.It’s embarrassing you’d think we would want to be your friend.”
The girls giggle cruelly.
“But I wore pink!”I say, in case they’ve missed it.
Robin turns up her lip in disgust.“You’re patheticanda stalker.Get up before I tell Principal Lombardi you’re stalking us.”
“But I’m not!”I stand abruptly, begging they give me another chance.“Did I do something wrong?I can change.”
This time, Rebecca is the one to step forward.
“What’s your name?”she softly asks.
I feel honored she’d even address me.
“I’m—” I clear my throat as it’s hoarse.“I’m Hallie.”When she looks at me blankly, I add, “Hallie Holiday.”
She blinks once, making it clear she has no idea who I am.
But I don’t let that dishearten me because Rebecca Bloom is the most popular girl in school, and I can’t expect her to remember everyone.It must be hard trying to keep up.
“My aunt and I found your dog, Hercules, down by the river.We brought him back to your house, and your mom made us her famous peach iced tea,” I say because there’s no way she’d forget that.
But as she continues staring at me, it seems that she can and that she has.
Our peers gather around us, curious about what’s going on.
“How embarrassing,” someone whispers.
“What a loser,” says another.
