The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth - Alexandra Robbins [38]
Terrified of being left out again, Whitney had recently resumed dressing like the populars, digging in the back of her closet to find urban prepwear that looked like her friends’. Now it was all H&M, all the time—vests, cardigans, zip-ups—with Hollister jeans and Uggs. Whitney desperately hoped that at least on the most superficial level, wearing the same clothes would reforge her connection with the group. She also repressed her faith. Catholicism was important to Whitney, but Bianca was an atheist who always blabbered about “how stupid religion is.” So Whitney kept her beliefs under wraps and bit her lip when Bianca assailed religion. Popularity required those kinds of sacrifices.
She pandered to Bianca more often, inviting her out and showering her with compliments. That’s the way it was with Bianca: If you wanted what she considered to be the enormous favor of her friendship, you’d best have something to offer in return. Whitney tried bringing up memories of good times they’d had as a group. She was mean to the people whom the populars wanted her to be mean to. In the library one afternoon, she found an online photo of an overweight, sweaty classmate. Whitney felt bad for her, but still summoned the populars to the computer to make fun of the girl.
Whitney’s most difficult compromise was allowing her friends to persuade her to push Luke away. “He’s so ugly,” Giselle said. “You can do so much better than a loser like him. You need a guy more fit like you.”
“I don’t know why you hang out with him,” Madison said. “When he texts you, just be really short and put a period after everything you say.”
As soon as Whitney returned from the hospital after lacrosse practice, she IMed Bianca. Her doctor had sent her to the hospital for X-rays of her lungs and diagnosed a combination of bronchitis and severe walking pneumonia.
Whitney: Yo, I don’t think I’m going to go out tonight.
Bianca: Dudeeeeee. Why? (Bianca knew full well that Whitney was sick.)
Whitney: Son, I have pneumonia lol. I’m like dying.
Bianca: Whitney, it’s your senior year, you HAVE to go. I’m not going to let you miss out on ONE SINGLE PARTY your senior year. You have to go out.
Whitney hesitated. For the populars, everything revolved around their party schedule. If there was going to be a day off from school, the populars absolutely had to socialize the night before. Partying was more than just a way to kick back. It was a way to manage and monitor the preps’ pecking order. Who was in control? Bianca. How did she exert her power? With the party car. Whitney’s group would pile into one car to go to any party thrown by someone outside of the clique. Only five people could fit into a car, but there were, at any given time, eight or nine populars. Bianca automatically got a place in the car. On Friday and Saturday afternoons, the preps raced to talk to Bianca to battle for one of the four remaining spots, each not caring who was excluded as long as she got to the party. Once, Whitney was left out of the car only because she had spent the day with her parents and didn’t have a chance to catch Bianca. It was that clear-cut. If you didn’t get a place in the car, you couldn’t go to the party. (As Whitney sarcastically remarked, “God forbid we take two cars, ever . . .”) Whitney frequently offered to be the designated driver just to claim a spot in the car.
Whitney wavered when Bianca pushed her to attend the party, even if going would compromise her health, because she