Part 12 (2/2)
”Exactly. Well-”
”You like him! I knew it! You denied it but-”
”I kissed him Sunday night,” I whispered. Quinn shrieked but slapped her hand over her mouth in time to stifle it.
”Twice.”
”Shut up!” she screamed under her hand, and did a weird little...well, I think it was a celebratory dance. Or else she really had to pee.
”The thing is,” I continued, ”he said he'd call but he didn't.”
”Oh,” Quinn said, catching her breath and returning to her usual pale color from hot pink. She nodded. ”Okay. I get it. Red.”
”Does everybody know that rule except me?” I asked, heading down to breakfast.
”You apparently know it, too,” Quinn said.
Before I could answer I saw Phoebe, already in the kitchen and looking blotchy for the first time in her life. I'd been planning to wear my flip-flops, but there they were, on Phoebe's feet again. But I couldn't even bring myself to yell at her to get them off. The poor kid looked like a wreck, and was getting Gosia to drive her to school, making some excuse about having an early meeting.
It had to be something about having to cancel her graduation party. Her friends were probably giving her h.e.l.l. If it was going to help her to wear my flip-flops, fine. I tried to ask her if she was okay but she skittered away, eyes averted. Probably she was still mad Quinn and I hadn't solved the problem for her the other day. Still, I felt sorry for her. Well, sorry enough to let her go with my new flip-flops.
I put on my black low-top Chucks instead. No socks. I wasn't sure if black counted as neutral, but it was them or sandals, and as much as I wanted to look screw-you hot, there was no way I was going to school in heels.
Light blue shorts and a red T-s.h.i.+rt were enough.
Plus makeup. Plus hair. I was more put-together than I'd ever been on a school day in my life.
It was also the first time I hadn't cringed, looking at myself in the mirror, since I was maybe ten.
I stood in front of Mom, who was messing with her BlackBerry, and telling Quinn about whatever meeting she had. I wanted to see if Mom would be one of the seven people who would think I was gorgeous. Or if she was immune to me, and the devil, too.
If she was ever going to think I was gorgeous, I thought, it would be right now. I took a breath and relaxed my face, waiting.
Eventually she looked up and noticed me, behind Quinn. ”What?” she asked. ”If you need some breakfast, you have to get it yourself. I have a billion things-”
”I don't need anything,” I said, but didn't budge.
”See you later,” Mom said, opening her laptop.
Doubt it, I thought, following Quinn, as always, out the door. I thought, following Quinn, as always, out the door.
Roxie took the bus, for the first time in forever, and was waiting for us at the bus stop when we got there. She and Quinn got into a whole thing of complimenting me that was so embarra.s.sing that if the bus had been another minute late, I would've just turned around and walked home.
Roxie took the aisle seat. I scrunched down next to the window. She yanked my arm and whispered, ”Be tall and proud. Just keep two, no, four words in your head all day: I'm gorgeous and screw you I'm gorgeous and screw you.”
”That's five,” I argued.
She thought for a second and then said, ”You can forget the and and. I'm gorgeous. Screw you I'm gorgeous. Screw you.”
We were still laughing when Jade and Serena got on, so we had to catch our breath to say h.e.l.lo. They both did double takes, and Serena even smiled a bit at me, but they didn't say anything. They sat down in the seat behind us and started whispering. I sank lower in my seat.
Roxie elbowed me, then stood up, turned around, and kneeled, peering over the back of our seat at Jade and Serena. Their whispering stopped, of course.
”So,” Roxie said. ”Can you believe this heat?”
”Mm,” Jade murmured, noncommittal.
”Good thing I put on a double layer of deodorant this morning or I'd already have big sweat moons showing through my T-s.h.i.+rt. How about you, Jade? You put on enough deodorant this morning? Serena doesn't look like that much of a sweaty person, are you, Serena?”
”Not really, no,” Serena answered, sweet and squeaky. I had slumped lower in my seat, but I knew the look Jade was giving her. I had no doubt that was the last thing we'd hear Serena say that morning.
”But you, Jade,” Roxie continued. ”I bet you can sweat good and stinky, right? You and me, we could stink up a boys' locker room.”
”Speak for yourself,” Jade quietly answered.
”Yeah, but I put on a double layer, myself,” Roxie said. ”It's you who's got the sweat moons.”
Roxie plopped back down next to me. I half expected her to start snorting and laughing, and my stomach clenched again.
Instead she leaned close to me and whispered, ”The silent treatment is mean. She could say h.e.l.lo.”
Then she sat back and stuck her buds into her ears and rocked out a bit in our seat.
I watched the town go by backward as we approached school, thinking that maybe the weirdest thing in my life was not that I was wearing a tight red T-s.h.i.+rt and makeup to school, or that I was (secretly) a semifinalist for a magazine modeling compet.i.tion, or even that the devil had taken possession of my cell phone (which, at that moment, began to play ”Pop Goes the Weasel” incessantly at top volume despite all my attempts to shut the thing off), but that Roxie Green really was my best friend.
I'm not sure if it was the hair, or the T-s.h.i.+rt, or the makeup, or the whole selling my cell to the devil-or if it was maybe the fact that I was taking longer steps to keep up with Roxie as we sauntered through the halls-but for the first time in my life, people noticed me. I saw eyes focus on me as we approached, and mouths smile as we got near. More kids said, ”Hey,” or, ”What's up,” to me than in the whole year put together.
A couple of times in cla.s.s my cell phone beeped and buzzed, but no teachers yelled at me about it. I just kept it in my back pocket and sat on it. After second period, when it was doing a samba in my shorts, I took it out and read a text from Tyler: Hey So I texted back: Hey Okay, so it wasn't Shall I compare thee to a summer's day Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, but I was still pretty psyched, and, if I didn't know me, I would say I might have been smiling as I walked into French cla.s.s.
At lunch, Roxie and I strolled around the fields, arms linked. I hesitated as we came to the upper field where the boys were playing football, but Roxie yanked me on and yelled, ”Hey, Ty,” as we pa.s.sed.
He looked at her, then at me, and stopped. He smiled, then frowned, then got hit in the chest with the football and said, I think, ”Oof.”
”Moss, come on, man!” Emmett yelled at him, but then followed his eyes toward us. Roxie waved at him and he blushed right up. ”Oh, hi,” he said, standing next to Tyler.
”Head in the game, dumb-a.s.ses,” another guy yelled at them, shoving them both after picking up the ball.
Roxie turned me and we walked on. We did three laps around the field before we finally sat down on the far end under a huge hemlock tree to eat our lunches.
On our way back in, at least three girls gave me compliments about my hair, and one, Susannah Millstein, who is president of the cla.s.s every year and plays first singles on the tennis team even though, like me, she is only in ninth grade, made a point of coming over to ask why I had quit tennis.
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