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Dan, I’d be mortified. “Don’t you even. That was forever ago, and he’s not the same person he was then. That Dan didn’t ignore friends. That Dan didn’t lie about having something super important to do then go to a party on a Saturday night instead of LARPing. That Dan didn’t objectify me to his new friends. It’s all just…Just. Unforgivable.” I make sure there’s not even a hint of humor in my next words. “And if you suggest there’s anything going on between us again, I will be forced to hurt you. Not even joking, okay?”
    Her eyes go wide and she holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Note taken. I have to admit he did pull a one-eighty when he started playing basketball. I never in a million years would have expected him to go to one of those parties.”
    “Exactly. I mean, look at him.” Just as if he heard my words, which is impossible because he’s down on the court and we’re up in the bleachers, Dan turns his head in my direction.
    Our eyes connect. If this would have happened a couple of days ago, I would’ve just given him the Eye of Hate and looked away. But I’m feeling super-confident at the moment, so I meet his gaze full on. I even smile a little. I’ve got you now, you traitor.
    “Oh, I don’t mind admitting that I do look at him. Frequently. He’s pretty hot.” Beth giggles.
    I break eye contact with Dan to stare dumbfounded at Beth. “What is wrong with you? He’s not even close to being hot. I mean, sure, he does have nice hair, but external beauty isn’t everything. In fact, it doesn’t mean much at all, in my opinion.”
    “You’re kidding, right? He’s like if a young Bob Dylan and James Dean had a baby.”
    I shake my head. “Again, none of that matters. He’s a jerk.”
    “Whatever you say, Miss ‘How can anyone hate Justin Bieber? He’s so gorgeous.’”
    I punch Beth playfully in the shoulder. “I’m never going to live down my Bieber phase, am I?”
    “Nope.”
    The game starts and we take our cues from the conductor. Between playing the regular sports hits like “Another One Bites the Dust” and helping the cheerleaders with some chants, I watch the game. Even if I find most of the guys on the team repulsive, I can’t stop myself from cheering them on. Dan isn’t doing as well as he normally does though. He keeps tripping and stuff. Weird. But I refuse to feel bad for him. Instead I repeat the game plan I came up with last night, over and over in my head.
Introduce
     
Admire
     
Make conversation
     
Gain trust
     
Remain vigilant
     
Outsmart target
     
Obtain proof of hypothesis
     
Terminate contact
     
    This plan is as solid as a hundred-year-old tree.
    If this works out—no, when this works out—it’ll be a blow to all those people in my school who think they’re in any way better than someone else. I want to prove that popularity changes people for the worst. I want those aspiring to popularity to realize that it’s not worth it. That it is, in fact, folly and can only lead to the decay of one’s morals and self-worth.
    Take Colin, the team’s equipment manager, for instance. Right now he’s busting his ass to keep the players hydrated and stocked with fresh, clean towels. But do they ever thank him? Do they ever deign to just give a nod of appreciation? Not that I’ve ever seen. Then why does he continue? Some might bright-side the answer and say he needs some extra-curriculars on his transcript. And to those some, I say, “Give me a break.” He does it in the hopes of making popular friends. He does it in search of acceptance, and poor Colin will never get that. But what if he was better at sports, or he fit in with their preconceived ideas about physical beauty? He’d be a shoe-in. It’s all about the surface layer with them, and I hate that.
    This mission could turn into something big, a kind of screw-you to all those people who think the sun rises and sets with them. All I have to do is follow my simple plan to