The Popularity Project

By Joddie Zeng

High school junior Ariella Winters has raised the position of nerd to an art form. Raking in the straight As, she couldnt be happier. Sure, her social skills are lacking a bit, but who needs that stuff anyway? When youre smart and dedicated, life is pretty perfect.
That is, until a school project brings her worst nightmare to life. As part of a revolutionary social experiment, Ariella is thrown into a new school and given a new look thats totally not her. To ace this project, she needs to spend the next six months trying to fit in. But thats not even the worst part. As part of the assignment, she has to befriend her worst enemiesthe popular crew, with their designer fashions and insincere emotions. The ones who would never give Ariella a second glance, except to mock and ridicule her.
Enter Ashton Walker, the boy every girl wants to date. Hes the soccer star, the heartthrob who doesnt fall in lovethe one who could ruin Ariellas plans. Hes got every girl falling at his feet which is just one out of the infinite reasons Ariella doesnt need to get wrapped up in his life. Then again, theres something hes hiding, something thats drawing Ariella in. Now shes left questioning everything shes ever believed in for a boy that she never shouldve met in the first place.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781496969408

Joddie Zeng

Joddie Zeng created The Popularity Project with a radical idea in mind: young-adult fiction should be written by young adults! Captivated by books her whole life long—all fourteen years of it—she set out to shine a light on the cliques that define our high school years, asking the question, Can we become someone different from who we’ve always been? Joddie has a passion for reading, eating, superhero movies, cats, romantic comedies, and golf. In an alternate universe, all these things would surround her. She lives in Maryland with her family, including her cat, Rosie (her one true love).

Book preview

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I never believed in happily-ever-afters. Most girls tend to dream of their Prince Charming coming and sweeping them off their feet. I never bought it. What’s the point of relationships, anyway? Other than the fact that we need them to keep the human race going. You lead yourself to believe that you love one person more than you could ever love any of the seven billion other people in the world when, in reality, it’s not worth it. Relationships equal distractions. That’s the truth. They suck you away from what’s really important and trick you into believing that that one person is truly worth fighting for. Nothing will matter as long as you have him/her, right? Wrong.

Besides, not only do you become a helpless, love-sick puppy, but you eventually have to deal with the heartbreak. The one that every girl supposedly goes through at least once in her life. When that one person suddenly isn’t what you hoped they’d be, and it’s really over. When you realize that you’ve wasted a chunk of your life when you should’ve been worrying about something much bigger. Like the future. What are you if you don’t have a future?

Nothing. That’s it. You’ll end up being helpless and possibly out on the streets. Love doesn’t get you out of a mess like that. A job does. A high income does. You can love all you want, but it’s simply a waste. A waste of time, a waste of effort, and a waste of heartbreak. Love doesn’t get you anywhere. I never understood why girls let themselves fall in love. Why get yourself into this huge mess when it won’t last anyway? Maybe I’m being too harsh, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. Maybe I’ll never understand why girls choose love over a successful, worthy, and steady future. In all honesty, I don’t really mind never understanding.

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I trudged down the hallway, avoiding as much eye contact as possible, and passed a banner for the annoying winter formal, which Easton High had so generously decided to host tonight. I didn’t care how many signs they’d nail up, the only plans I had tonight consisted of staying home and rereading my Complex Analysis textbook until I didn’t have a single question left. Or maybe the clouds would finally clear out a little so I’d be able to get some quality shots from my special spot. I had heard that Cassiopeia was going to be out at around nine o’clock. Cassiopeia had always been one of my favorite constellations to photograph because when my parents gave me a Canon EOS Rebel for my fifteenth birthday, it was the first constellation I got a decent shot of. Sure, it wasn’t the most complex constellation out there, but sometimes simplicity was the ultimate beauty.

But before I could get too excited for the night to come, I still had eight periods and two hours of intense indoor track to plow through. And it definitely wasn’t about to go by fast.

As I continued to walk to first period, I could hear a distinct, high-pitched squeal, no doubt coming from Caroline Myers. It was her designated laugh to show that she was interested in a guy and that all the other girls had better back off. When I looked to my right, I saw that my assumptions were correct. Fan-freaking-tastic. Caroline was flirting with Parker Andrews, one of the wide receivers of the football team I had yet to go watch. By the looks of it, Caroline’s flirting was working. Parker swung an arm around her shoulder as they walked downstairs.

Caroline was one of the many Barbie dolls—at least that’s what I called them—in our school. These girls probably had so much potential for success, but it had been wasted on all the mascara and crop tops they’d spend their time shopping for. And it truly disgusted me how much they reeked of desperation for attention. But it really didn’t matter what I thought of them because in the end, they were pretty and popular, and guys were going to want to hook up with them.

There were valid reasons I didn’t like the popular crew, one being how cruel they could be. I remember how parts of freshman year sucked big time because on the way to lunch, Caroline and her friends were always coincidentally walking right behind me and oh-so-subtly talking about how I looked like a hobo. That was reason number five thousand and twenty-three I loved being able to take my afternoon classes at Marlin County College.

It’s almost like Caroline had nothing better to do than compare the thousands of dollars and time she spent on making herself look good to my cheap T-shirts and makeup-less face. It wasn’t like I ever did anything to her. I didn’t think I ever said ten words to her. Needless to say, we weren’t friends. I didn’t hate her though. I didn’t know her well enough to be able to say I hated her. I disliked her, yes.

I disliked that she thought school was a Victoria’s Secret fashion show.

Her friends thought that too.

But I couldn’t act surprised, because Easton High was a private school in Cercis, Maryland. Cercis was certainly not a city that was lacking money, so clearly a lot of people were going to be more interested in the newest trends than their next test.

I just had to stick with my plan for the rest of junior and senior year and then I’d hopefully be going to Columbia. Columbia. I had started thinking about going there in sixth grade. The big city where so many successful people lived. Of course, I’d have to fight my way to the top. Starting with a good job in the business industry and then—I hoped—creating my own business by my late twenties. New York was a place that either meant great success or huge failure, and I wasn’t about to let myself fall into the second category. I know. A seventeen year old who knows what she wants to do with her life? Shocker, isn’t it?

I sighed with relief as I dropped my books on my desk. Career Workshop was my favorite class. Since my high school credits were met, I was technically supposed to have a free period, but instead the school had created this class. There were a total of six people in Career Workshop, including me. Many of the other people in the class specialized in one subject for which they had completed the credits, so they had a free period. Me? I was lucky enough to be taking all college classes.

The class was all about life. It was a mix between college preparation and life preparation for success. I took a seat at my usual desk in the front row, twiddling my thumbs as I waited for the bell to sound. Occasionally, I would push my droopy glasses back to their original spot on my face. My eyes wandered around the room but froze as I saw the newly written words on the white board.

A New You project due May 31. I blinked a few times, making sure the date was right. Nothing changed. I even yanked a strand of my hair but it was useless. The words didn’t disappear, and my scalp kind of hurt when I yanked my hair. But it was only November 26th. What could possibly take six months to complete? And a new you? That sounded like something from an anger management course.

When the bell dinged, I waited attentively to find out what on earth was going on. Good morning, class, Mr. Kinsey said, clapping his hands. I see some of you have noticed that I have a new project for you all. I shall explain. As you all know, you have been put in this class because of your outstanding grades. Every single one of you specializes in an academic topic and/or topics, and you do exceedingly well in those topics. However, the school and I have finally been able to find a way to test your ability to handle something out of your comfort zone.

I really liked Mr. Kinsey, to say the least. He was also my AP French Five teacher in freshman year and when he noticed a tiny little ninth grader in his class, he went out of his way to make me feel as comfortable as possible in a room full of seniors. But at the moment I had mixed feelings. When I looked around at my other classmates, I saw confusion etched onto every single one of their faces.

Well, at least I wasn’t alone.

"Lincoln Bay has teamed up with three nearby public schools to give you all a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Based on how successful this year is, we will decide whether or not this will be a yearly thing. I will be sending every single one of you to a different public school where you will be altering an aspect of yourself to fit into a different social group from the one you are in now. You will act like a new student who has moved from another state. You will be taking the classes that normal juniors take. The teachers know not to give you homework unless you or they feel it is necessary for the project. The teachers understand that you will not be required to take any of the tests. They will, however, be giving you all the work so you don’t blow your cover.

"Unfortunately, there is only one flaw that we hope to fix next year. Regrettably, you will all have to sit through some of the classes you have already taken, but since you have all taken your SATs, you shouldn’t feel terribly stressed about it.

"Each of your teachers now will be giving you a packet compiled with all the notes and work you will be expected to learn this year. With that, your teachers have very kindly prepared videos with concepts they feel need an explanation or think you may struggle with. Your grades for the next six months will be based mostly on the work you do on the material in these packets.

In addition to the packets, you will be required, to come back after school once a month, to be tested on certain concepts in these packets. This is mainly to make sure you don’t cram everything at the last minute. Your teachers will be e-mailing you frequently, asking if you have any questions, and informing you what will be on the quiz or test you are taking that month.

Three hands shot up, and Mr. Kinsey waved to show that he wasn’t finished.

Now to what you will really be doing at this new school. You will act like a regular student, but you will behave according to your topic. From there, you will expand your knowledge of the people from your assigned group, as I assume they will become your friends. You must find out what makes each person tick, why they act the way they do, and so forth. To help you, the principals and I have designed each one of your schedules to be the same as that of one other person in your social group. You do not necessarily have to get to know that person, but, considering that the two of you will have all your classes together, it will be a lot easier. You all are basically assuming a new identity for six months. Eventually you will come across something that will change how you see the world. It may be just a tweak but I am sure that there’ll be something. When the time is up, you will return and write up your experience and what you’ve learned as a school project.

"Of course, this is a graded project, so I will need to set some guidelines. I would like to see a picture slideshow somehow incorporated into your presentation. You are allowed to be creative, but I do need proof that you are doing what you’re supposed to be doing. The teachers to whom you will be assigned are good friends of mine, so they will be watching to see that you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing. You will also need to write down your oral presentation, whether on note cards or PowerPoint. I will need that turned in as well. I would like to see that you have taken on these new identities and are committed to doing your best. And I know some of you guys will want to come back early if you’ve completed the project, but the other principals and I have decided that if you do complete it early, then you should devote all the remaining time to your real school work.

Before we can get to the fun stuff, I must give you these permission forms, as your parents or guardians need to be okay with all of it. The paperwork has all the information in it, and if they have any questions, they can always e-mail me. I would like these permission forms to be turned in Friday since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, so I know how many people will be participating. If you won’t be doing this project, I will be giving you large amounts of schoolwork that certainly won’t be as much fun as trying out this project. Any questions so far?

From the corner of my eye, I could see a hand fly up.

Yes, Matt?

Um … So if our parents agree to the project, when does it start? Matt’s voice was definitely uneven, but he was one step ahead of me, since I could barely say a word at the moment.

Ah, I was just getting to that. Mr. Kinsey smiled an all too comforting smile. The reason I need your permission slips Friday is that the project will begin on Monday. I know, it’s fast, but we just worked out the logistics, and this is the only reasonable time possible. If you have any trouble, you can always talk to me. Oh, and I will be e-mailing each one of you a rubric. If you need a hard copy, see me at lunch. This project will be more or less one hundred points. Matt nodded. Any more questions? The room was quiet.

It felt like I was having a huge brain fart, and all I could think about was how this would all happen. Surely it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

All right, after careful consideration, I have chosen your topics according to what I believe will be suitable for you. Now let’s get down to the fun part. Mr. Kinsey rubbed his hands together like an evil villain plotting an attack. Ariel, you will be assigned to Lincoln Bay High School. His warm smile barely eased my tense muscles, but at least it was something. Sounds like a decent school, I suppose. It certainly wasn’t Easton High, but it couldn’t be too bad. "Your topic will be popularity. You will change your image to fit your way into the popular crew. From then on, you will befriend the people of that group and learn about their perspectives. You must have full faith that you will be entirely successful and that this will be an experience to remember."

Of course. I would get the topic I can’t stand.

Well, at least I could pray that Aunt Stella would think that the project was preposterous and wouldn’t allow me to do it.

Ha! Fat chance.

At that moment, Mr. Kinsey was dethroned from his position as my favorite teacher. I hadn’t even had enough time to take in the information when he moved on to the next person.

Bella, Mr. Kinsey began. Bella Butler was the science expert of our little class. She knew everything from minerals to compounds to anything else science related. I was pretty sure she was two levels above me in science. You, my friend, will be learning all about the art of theater at Herbert High. You will be the leading lady in their school play. Lucky for you, I’ve spoken to the theater teacher, and the role is already yours. She will be spending a lot of time with you, helping you immerse yourself into theater. Herbert High has an excellent program, and I know you will make some great friends there as you break out of your science shell.

I turned around in my chair to look at Bella, whose jaw had dropped. She looked horrified. The truth was that I was horrified for her as well.

The theater geeks were a rather eccentric bunch of people, and the thought of Bella being one of them was crazy. But of course before Bella could say anything, Mr. Kinsey moved on.

Matt, Mr. Kinsey began, but he was interrupted by Matt’s loud groan. Matt Brown was the history-obsessed boy in the class, which was what I liked to call him. I never understood how someone could adore history so much, but he did. He constantly had a book with him, and it almost always included something with world history. Matt wasn’t the fittest person—in fact he was a bit chubby—but he was a genius.

You, sir, will be having some fun on the football field at Westbank High. I want you to take on the sport of football. The coach knows you are a beginner, so he will be giving you some one-on-one help. You will get on the football team and learn every aspect of the game. I am sure you will make loads of friends, so don’t you fear.

I didn’t even have to look at Matt to know that he was shocked and pissed. We all were. Eventually, I just zoned out, hoping that the class would just end already.

Soon enough, the bell rang, and I gathered my books and walked up to Mr. Kinsey’s desk. He must have been expecting me as he waited for me to speak. I got there first only because I sat in the front. When I turned around, all six of us were lined up wanting to talk about the same thing as me. I smiled innocently, but that was only because I was majorly confused. And it was impolite to glare at teachers.

Mr. Kinsey? I’m sure you have made a small error. Are you sure popularity is my topic? I mean, don’t you think that’s a bit unreasonable? I asked. I could never let myself be one of them.

Ah, yes. Ariel, I have not made a mistake. When deciding on your project, I tried to give you a topic that is completely out of your comfort zone, which is the social aspect of high school. I do apologize, but I have noticed that this aspect is your weakness. I am positive that this is good for you, and I have no doubts about your success. Mr. Kinsey’s reply was firm and confident. He patted my back, signaling that I should leave because of all the other students waiting to talk to him.

Very well. Thank you, Mr. Kinsey, I forced out. But I wasn’t thankful. If anything, I was the exact opposite, considering that turning into a brainless, attention-seeking brat was not on my bucket list. There wasn’t anything to learn. My project would end up thirty seconds long.

Mr. Kinsey handed me the permission slip. I turned to leave, but I stopped when he called my name.

Ariel?

Yes? I said, turning back to face him.

This will be a good experience for you, he assured me. Ha! Good experience, my ass.

I gave one last nod to Mr. Kinsey before rushing out the door to AP Physics. My eyes were nailed to the tips of my shoes so I suppose it was partially my fault when I was slammed onto the ground. My butt hit the floor with a thud, but luckily enough, my backpack broke most of the fall. I had never been more grateful that the school let us carry our backpacks around. When I looked up, I saw Marcy McLean, one of Caroline’s best friends. I swear, if she put any more mascara on, her eyelashes would have been too heavy to open her eyes. I had had the good fortune to have known her and the rest of the popular crew since first grade.

Watch where you’re going, geek, she sneered as she walked away.

Thanks for the help.

I sighed and picked up my books, walking quickly to second period so I didn’t have to encounter any more people. At least I didn’t run into one of the guys. Now that would’ve been embarrassing.

The next two periods felt like days. And to say the least, I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was how different life would be in just a couple of days.

By the time there was exactly five minutes left of third period, my eyes were practically glued to the clock. I resorted to mentally counting down the minutes and seconds until lunch.

Three, two, one … ding, ding, ding.

When the bell rang, I couldn’t get out fast enough. I jogged to the cafeteria as I pulled out my lunch from my backpack. Slipping through a small space between a guy and a couple making out, I stepped into the cafeteria and took a seat at Flora’s and my table. Normally, we ate outside but it was getting too cold for that. I tried to ignore the couple who was very publically showing their affection as I began to peel an orange.

One day, they’d regret doing all that publicly. This was high school. When it was time to go to college, they’d say bye-bye. Possibly they’d try to go long distance, but it wasn’t going to work; high school relationships rarely did. Then she’d end up crying her eyes out, and he’d end up moping around. Eventually reality was going to hit, and they’d crash and burn. Life wasn’t always like a romance novel with a perfect ending.

I rarely expressed my thoughts out loud, though. For one, no one would listen, and second, that was kind of dark, in a way.

I barely even talked to Flora about it. I never understood why she still stuck with me, considering that, physically speaking, we were polar opposites. The way her chocolate-brown hair cascaded down her face made it seem impossible that she could ever have a bad hair day. She had brown eyes that always sparkled. I didn’t know such a dull color had the ability to be so spectacular—until I met her, that is. But then when she smiled, she flew to a whole new level of captivating. She’d flash those perfect pearly whites, and any guy would be down on his knees begging.

So, what differentiated her from the Barbies wasn’t any lack of beauty; in fact, she could have hung around with them, if that was what she had desired. Even though, on a scale from one to ten, she was a solid fourteen, she also had a kindness that not many people possessed. There wasn’t a nasty bone in her body.

Every one of Flora’s features was the opposite of mine, and I knew it the moment we met in sixth grade. My dirty-brown hair always stayed limp. When my hair decided to be curly, it was always just one stringy curl that would sit there just to piss me off. My plain, brown eyes didn’t sparkle in the slightest. They represented the color brown perfectly. Dull. Boring.

I called them my poop eyes.

For some weird reason, Flora thought it was hilarious.

I never quite cared about my appearance as Flora did. No, she didn’t dress to impress. She said it made her feel good, and I couldn’t complain. I couldn’t even judge, because even though she spent a lot of free time not studying, she had a perfect GPA. Smart and pretty. She was the perfect combo.

When I finally spotted Flora, I realized that she wasn’t alone. A boy was talking to her. I didn’t know who it was, since he was walking backward while facing her, but I could see the number 14 on his football jersey.

Hey, Ari! Flora said when she was a couple of feet away. She had given me that nickname when we met. The boy turned his head to glance at me, and I mentally gagged. Those famous green eyes belonged to Tanner, Easton High’s most popular boy. Quarterback of the football team and popular with most of the girls. I swear he had been trying to get a date out of Flora for two years. And by date, he meant fuck. He’d made that pretty clear the first time he hit on her. In freshman year, Tanner had taped a note on her locker that said Hey there, cutie, if you ever need a tutor, I’ll be your guy. I’ll teach you a whirlwind of things. Yours truly, Tanner.

At first, I thought he meant he actually wanted to help until I saw another girl with the same note in her hand talking about how Tanner really helped her.

Um, hi.

Oh yeah, you’re Ariel, right? He scratched his neck, obviously irritated that I had screwed up their conversation.

Yeah.

Well, Flora, talk to you later, then. You know my number. And then he was gone.

Once he was out of sight, Flora’s arms were around me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. He wouldn’t leave me alone.

I rolled my eyes. Just tell him to back off.

"Like I haven’t tried. I am this close to taking his offer and then dyeing his pants pink.