Part 37 (1/2)

”Nah. So ... um ... you want to-”

That's when my camera swung over to a very drunk Cosmopolitan girl trying to use a fUnnel to pee off the deck like a guy.

I rewound to the Eddie conversation and watched it again.

Wow.

He was on tape admitting he was gay. He didn't flat-out say it, but anyone who saw this would know. Eddie would freak if this got out.

I wondered if I'd caught more.

I kept watching, but I wasn't dragging myself through the mud now. I was fascinated.

I didn't see anything else between Eddie and the Genius, but a while later I'd caught part of a conversation between Kristie and her new boyfriend, Tyler.

”Why can't we leave?”Tyler asked.

”Trista wouldn't like it,” Kristie said.

”So what? She's your friend She'll get over it. ”

”She's not my friend! She's the social police-I hate it!”

Oh my G.o.d-this was amazing! I was dying to hear more, but the camera lurched to four guys stuffing peanuts up their noses, then seeing how far they could snort them across the room.

What had I been thinking? The Kristie conversation was gold!

I turned the sound all the way up to see if I could hear more in the background, but I couldn't.

The tape continued to roll. Soon I saw myself in a super-unflattering mega-close-up whispering, ”Mystery footage!” A little bit later, the screen went dark and I heard weird noises that I knew now were Trista and Seth Minkoff.

The footage was going to end too soon, and it killed me. If I'd had any clue about what would happen later that night, I never would have listened to Trista and turned off my phone. Footage of Trista Camello with Seth Minkoff would be priceless.

”Boo! Say cheese!” I said on the computer. I had flicked on the lights, but the camera was unfocused.

Now it zoomed in on Trista's angry face. I hadn't gotten Seth in the shot. I could've kicked myself.

”OFF! TURN THATCAMERA OFF!” Trista raged.

The image went wild as I lowered the phone. Was it showing the carpet? My leg? I couldn't tell. It kept moving around.

Wait a minute-why was it still moving around? It should have been off. When Trista had told me to turn it off, I had turned it off.

Hadn't I?

”Oh my G.o.d!” I screamed on the screen.

”Shhhhh! Turn out the lights!”

The image went dark, but the sound didn't stop.

It didn't stop!

I hadn't turned off the phone at all. I thought I had, but I was still taping! My heart raced as I kept listening.

”Trista, were you having s.e.x with Seth Minkoff?”

”Um, I can answer that. Yes. Yes, she was. ”

”Shut up!”

”What? I'm proud.”

”Trista! Brett's right in the next room!”

”And I'd like him to stay there, so get the h.e.l.l out and shut the h.e.l.l up!”

A minute later, the screen wasn't dark anymore. I couldn't make out what I was seeing, but I heard clapping. Then the image went dark and still. I heard my own voice say, ”Hook me up, barkeep,” then Ree-Ree saying, ”Ladies and gentlemen...” and I hit stop. I remembered finding my phone on the bar the next day and realized I must have put it down then and it had kept recording until the charge ran out.

I knew what came next, and I didn't want to hear it-especially not when I was on a giddy high from what I'd discovered.

I had proof that Trista was cheating on Brett. With Seth Minkoff.

I could ruin her. Just like she ruined me.

And why stop there? I could bring down Eddie, too. And there would definitely be drama in Populazzi-land if everyone saw Kristie's conversation about Trista.

This was awesome. I had everything I needed to get the ultimate revenge-but what was the best way to use it? I could post it on Facebook, maybe under a new group named Real Stories of the Populazzi. Or even under Cara Leonard Is a Great Big Wh.o.r.e, since the group was already so big.

The only problem with posting the clips was that they'd have to stand alone, and there was so much more I wanted to share. If I could somehow show the video myself at school, I'd have an audience. I could spill everything: Trista's rules, the fake IDs, Eddie's s.e.xuality, Trista's eating disorder, everything.

It didn't matter how many people heard me. Even if there were just a few, word would spread. Within a day, everyone would know.

What would happen then? The junior cla.s.s Populazzi would implode. As a group, they would cease to exist. And then what? What happened when the entire top of the Tower ceased to exist? Would another tier move up, or would the mantel of ultimate popularity pa.s.s to someone else? Someone who had done something bold and dramatic enough to change the social fabric of the entire school?

Someone like me.

It wasn't impossible. And if it happened, I would be Supreme Populazzi. A very different Supreme Populazzi than I'd imagined before the party, but Supreme Populazzi nonetheless. And for the final nail in Trista's coffin, I could ask Brett Seward to take me to the prom. It would be a dark, twisted version of what Claudia had dreamed for me when she'd first told me about the Ladder.

I liked it.

I surfed to Facebook, to the page for Cara Leonard Is a Great Big Wh.o.r.e. I posted, ”Trista, let's talk face-to-face. Friday at The Heap, 8 a.m. Everyone is invited.” In the spirit of the group, I ended with ”Cara Leonard is a great big wh.o.r.e. ”

Now everything would change.