I hadn't had the opportunity to talk to Sunday and Dan much on Monday, so I dumped the entire story on them on Tuesday when our teacher was late again.

Their reactions couldn't be more different. When I recounted my date with Brandon, Sunday's eyes lit up with pride while Dan looked increasingly repulsed. And I did feel a bit bad about telling them when I had promised Brandon not to, but Sunday had always been supportive of me going after him, so I didn't think he would mind her knowing. And Dan…well, I didn't think Dan would try to do anything about us the way Felicia would.

"That is amazing!" Sunday squealed when I was done. "Girl, you're literally out here experiencing a movie romance! I can't believe it!" Her face lit up with devilish glee. "Oh, I can't wait to see Felicia's face when she finds out."

Dan gaped at her in obvious betrayal. "Are you kidding? That's creepy as shit," he shot back. "And he didn't even tell you where he got your address? Or found out where—" He shook his head, like he could barely believe what he was saying. "Found out where your room is?"

I shrugged. "I don't really mind," I said. "It's nice that he cares, right?"

"Cares? Dude." Dan ran both hands through his hair. "There's a word for what he's doing. It's called stalking."

Stalking? That didn't seem right, I thought. Brandon wasn't stalking me; stalking was something creeps did, and he was only acting like a romance novel hero—protective, mysterious, maybe a little dangerous, sure, but all of this was normal. It wasn't nearly in stalking territory yet; he was just being romantic.

"I don't think it's stalking," I said. "He probably just…I don't know, asked someone who knows my address about it and was too embarrassed to tell me that."

Dan shoved a whole fistful of potato chips into his mouth at once and chewed. "Lemme put it this way," he said between crunches. "If some other dude was doing this—some ugly guy you don't like—what would you call this behavior?"

I still didn't get it. "But Brandon's not doing this against my will," I protested. "I like him, and he knows that. He wouldn't do all of this if I didn't."

Dan swallowed his mouthful of chips. "Just 'cause you're okay with the creepy thing doesn't make it not creepy," he said.

Helpless, I turned to Sunday, hoping she could talk some sense into him, but she only shrugged, rolled her eyes, and stole some of Dan's chips. The two of them bickered good-naturedly, and I changed my strategy and switched the subject to yesterday.

A strange shadow passed over Sunday's face as I recounted Felicia's interactions with the three-legged little cat, making her look almost sad for a moment. Dan only listened intently, his face giving nothing away until I was finished with my story.

"It was pretty weird," I concluded, smiling nervously as I looked down at my hands. "But I just…at that cat café, Felicia just seemed…sweet."

"Sweet?" Sunday repeated, giving an outraged laugh. "Felicia is not sweet. She's candy-coated poison."

I took a slow breath. "I know that," I said. "But I just…don't know what to think of it. I don't see why she should've faked all of that, you know?"

"I don't think she was faking," Dan remarked around another mouthful of chips. "Sunday, remember in middle school when—"

"Dan," Sunday cut him off, her eyes sharp and dark with an unspoken warning. "Shut up."

He gave her a long look, then shrugged. Sunday must've noticed my curious look, because she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Felicia used to have a cat," she said, "back when she was still a decent person. I don't get it." Her eyes hardened, glinting with something I didn't understand. "Dogs are better, anyway."

Dan's face was worried as he looked at her, but he didn't reveal what he was thinking. I had no idea what was up with either of them, so I shrugged and pretended not to see it. "I like dogs and cats," I said. "Although big dogs are kind of scary, sometimes."

"Scary? C'mon, they're big teddy bears!" Sunday threw an arm around my shoulders. "You wanna meet my big dog? He looks like he could kill a guy, but he wouldn't hurt a fly!"

I relaxed. My distraction tactic had worked, it seemed. "You have a big dog?"

"Huge! Hold on." Sunday reached for her phone, which was black and covered in scratches and stickers that were already beginning to peel off. "Let me show you!"

The dog she showed me was indeed huge, black and imposing with a studded collar, though I didn't know enough about dogs to tell what breed it was. From there the conversation carried on to other pets, and we spent the rest of the time laughing about the escapades of Sunday's dog and Dan's sister's cockatiel until our teacher showed up at last.

~ ~ ~

When I joined the girls for lunch, Felicia was acting like nothing had happened. The other two clearly didn't suspect anything either; they were all in the middle of a conversation with a bunch of other popular-looking girls. I only recognized one of them—the girl we had seen with Louie's two-timing boyfriend, happily chatting with Louie and Chelsea.

They all turned as I sat down at their table, the girls I didn't know sizing me up with strange looks. I offered a half-apologetic smile and looked down at my tray. I hadn't taken enough food for them to judge me, right? I knew I'd taken a little more than yesterday, since Felicia was so intent on me eating enough and everything, but it wasn't so much that they would blame my weight on how much I ate—right?

On second thought, maybe I shouldn't be here today. Maybe I should leave—join Sunday and Dan, keep talking about our pets or something, away from scrutinizing eyes. But on the other hand, I also didn't want to bring extra attention to myself by getting up again so shortly after arriving.

"Anyway, did you hear about Kenzie wanting to quit?" Felicia was saying. "I so hope she changes her mind. Without her we can, like, kiss our competitions goodbye."

"I know, right. She's the backbone of the team," the girl I didn't know replied, twirling a strand of dark wavy hair around her finger. "I still don't get why she even wants to quit. Like, why after all these years?"

Chelsea frowned. "Kenzie's a senior," she remarked. "She told me she can only stay on the squad or study for her SATs, and education is more important." She shrugged. "I think I get it, to be honest."

"Yeah, but like—I don't know." The unfamiliar girl pulled her face into a conflicted grimace. "Doesn't being on a sports team help get into college? This is, like, self-sabotage!"

"Maybe she doesn't see herself cheerleading forever," Chelsea answered quietly. "Lots of people don't."

Felicia sighed. "Whatever," she said. "It's Kenzie's business, but—what are we supposed to do about championships? They're not winning themselves! Jesus!"

"Maybe Kenzie can stay till we're done with championships," Louie suggested.

Chelsea looked ready to tell her off for her absurd idea, then she paused and pulled out her phone. "Let me check the competition dates," she said. "Maybe that does work."

I didn't understand what or who they were talking about, but all the same I found myself intrigued. In books and movies, popular cheerleaders only ever talked about fashion, boys and gossip. It had never really occurred to me that they were also athletes, and they treated it as seriously as others treated football or basketball or track, or even volleyball like in Dan's case. Why hadn't I thought of that? The routine I had seen them do on Saturday must have taken them ages to practice. No one could get these results who only cared about looks and attention.

"I don't really know what you're talking about," I spoke up, "but what if you guys help her with studying? Or maybe work out a schedule to balance practice and studying."

All eyes fell on me at once, and I froze. Why had I said something? I was supposed to quietly eat my food and pretend I wasn't there!

"Wait, no," I said, blushing and sputtering. "We're all juniors, and she's a senior. Juniors obviously can't help seniors with classes, right? Sorry, that was stupid…"

Felicia pursed her lips. "Worth a try," she said. "Let's talk to the seniors later, they're all in the same boat anyway."

I looked down and hoped to be ignored again when the dark-haired girl asked, "Who are you, anyway? I don't think I've seen you with Felicia before."

I tensed, suddenly hyperaware of every fiber of my body, every wrinkle of my clothes, every hair out of place. "Um, right," I said, smiling but unable to make eye contact. "I…my name is Pearl. I'm new, I moved here over the summer." I lifted my hand in an awkward wave. "Hi?"

"Nice to meet you," the girl next to Louie—Nora?—said with a genuine smile. The other girl, the dark-haired one, also smiled, but didn't return my greeting.

"I like your shirt," she said instead. On instinct I looked down. I was wearing a completely boring navy blue T-shirt without any distinguishing features.

"Um…thanks?" I said because I didn't know what else to say. Felicia narrowed her eyes, but didn't make any comments. The girl shot an amused look towards the others, but Felicia didn't return it.

Brushing that off as a weird interaction without further meaning, I returned to my food. But I only managed to eat in silence for a moment before the girl leaned over my tray and asked, "Are you sure you should be eating all that?"

Startled, I lifted my head, instinctively bringing up my hands to cover my plate. "Sorry, what?"

"It's just…so much." She gestured loosely at my tray. "That can't be healthy, right? I'm just—"

"Jasmine."

She fell silent. Felicia's voice was pleasant, but her blue eyes were made of ice, her smile dripping poison. "Maybe you shouldn't make comments about other people's diet," she said. "Or have you stopped living off junk food yet?"

Splotches of red appeared on Jasmine's face. "I'm just giving advice," she said defensively.

"Great! And we do not want it." Felicia's smile hardened. "Anything else?"

Jasmine fell silent.

"Good!" Suddenly cheerful again, Felicia turned to Louie and Chelsea. "Anyway, where were we?"

"Helping Kenzie," Chelsea replied, giving me a strange sideways glance.

"Right! So we figure out that whole study plan thing, and then we see if that changes her mind." Felicia counted the points off on her fingers. "But just in case that doesn't work, we need a backup plan. Any suggestions?"

She really was serious about her sport, I thought with a smile. Felicia Kensington was full of surprises. Only a week ago I'd never have expected her to have this much love for a scraggly black cat or care this much about her cheerleading squad. Sometimes it made me wonder what else there was about her that I had yet to see.

But apparently my smile had been a little too obvious, because she turned her head and blinked. "Anything on my face?" she asked.

"What? No, no. It's just—" My face heated up, and I avoided her gaze. "You'd make a good team captain, I think."

She didn't say anything, just smiled, and my face burned even hotter. "Is—Is that not what it's called?" I asked. "What do they call it—head cheerleader?"

"I get what you mean." Her smile widened, and this time there was no fakeness or venom in it. "Might just do it, if you think I can."

Her eyes twinkled a little as she spoke, and she tossed her hair over her shoulder with a confident gesture. If she'd been talking to a boy, I thought, I would've guessed she was hitting on him. But even so—crap, when had Felicia become this charming?

Maybe Sunday misunderstood her character, I mused. Maybe people liked Felicia for a reason.

Maybe…even Sunday could come to like her, if only she'd give her a chance.