The Enemy Hypothesis: A Brazos High Novella

rank higher on the scoreboard probably have more sway when they give out kudus. Like, since I’m number four right now, my kudos is probably worth more points for someone else. So if I were to give Mark a kudos for giving me a ride home last night, it would probably boost his score by several points. No one really knows how the app works, though. The FAQ on the Un-bully website says their scientific formulas are top secret.
I told him I wasn’t going to give him a kudos for the act, and he still gave us a ride home anyway. I spent all night thinking about it, and I even looked up his profile a few times, but ultimately, I never pressed the thumbs up button. He’s a rich kid with a nice car. He doesn’t need to win this contest.
I, however, could have my life changed by winning this contest. A new car would be amazing and it would help out my entire family since I could drive my sisters around and help my parents save money. We take the bus when we have to, but the bus sucks. It always smells like rotten eggs. My sisters have dance class once a week and that coincides with Abuela’s bingo nights. So instead of borrowing her car, we get to take the stupid bus. I am so tired of taking the bus.
In my cosmetology class we’ve been learning makeup application and I’m getting pretty good at applying individual fake eye lashes. While our school provides the supplies we need for class, we usually buy ourselves extra stuff to play with during homeroom or when we stay after school, hanging out with Mrs. Ashley. I ended up finding a huge box of fake eye lashes on Amazon for pretty cheap, and after first period is over I hang back, waiting until everyone else has left.
“Mrs. Ashlee?” I ask, walking up to her desk. “Do you think I could come back here and use the studio during lunch?”
“Sure,” she says, barely glancing at me over her laptop screen. “What do you need it for? All your skills tests have been exemplary.”
I hold up my huge box of fake eye lashes. “I’m going to offer to do people’s eyelashes during lunch all week. For free.”
Mrs. Ashlee gives me a knowing look. “You’re a hustler,” she says with a grin. “Hustling for kudos.”
I grin back. “What can I say? I want to win.”
As I head to second period, I send out a Snapchat message to our school’s group story. I take a picture of my eyelashes and then let everyone know I’ll be doing free sets during lunch all week. Within minutes I have girls setting up appointments with me, and my score on the Un-bully app goes up to number three. Awesome.
My free lashes are such a hit that I fill up the lunch period all week with appointments and people are still asking if I have openings left. I’m in no danger of running out of lashes or glue anytime soon, so I keep taking appointments. It’s fun, and I’m really good at it. All this lash practice has me wanting to open my own lash studio one day.
A few friends from my last class of the day ask if I mind staying after school to do their lashes. It’s Wednesday, and I don’t have any plans after school so I tell them to meet me in the cosmetology studio. I’m expecting a few girls to show up, but when I get there after telling Jules I can’t ride home with her after school, I’m greeted by fifteen people. Wow.
“This is the perfect way to get kudos,” some girl tells me as she sits in the chair and tips her head back under the overhead light. I don’t even know who she is, but I’m grateful for the business. If I win the car, it’ll be like I didn’t do all this hard work for free.
I finish up as soon as possible, and it turns out I have some time to catch the late school bus. The normal school bus runs right after the bell rings, but then there’s a late one two hours after school gets out. It takes students home who had sports practice or tutorials after school.
I’m exhausted and my neck hurts from leaning over doing lashes all day. I can’t wait to check my score on the app. I was in third place earlier today. I really, really hope I made it to second. Right now the two people ahead of me are extremely popular. Joey Lithgow is a football star everyone is in love with now that Jake Morgan is off the market. I’m pretty sure he’s only scoring so well because everyone just gives him free kudos for no reason. Then there’s the girl in first place, some freshman named Annabel. Turns out her mom is a teacher at the school and we’re all thinking the teachers are who helped her get up to first place. That might be hard to beat.
I climb onto the bus and plop into the second seat. It is by sheer bad luck that I’m the last person to get dropped off on this route. We drive around Brazos City for thirty minutes taking everyone else home because they live closer to the school. I’ve never wanted my own car more than I want it now. The bus is awful.
When the bus finally pulls onto my road, I stand up and make my way toward the front. That’s when I notice a folded hundred dollar bill on the floor, just behind the bus driver’s foot.
“Excuse me,” I say, kneeling down. “I think you dropped this.”
The bus driver’s eyes light up. She looks about my mom’s age, maybe older. “Oh my goodness,” she says, taking the money. “I’m paying my light bill with this money. Girl you just saved me a world of trouble. Thank you.”
I smile at her. “It’s no