Part 3 (1/2)

”Honestly, Emili, you're such a party-p.o.o.per. We were having a great time.”

I stopped and glared at her. She raised her eyebrows, her eyes wide. ”Just saying,” she said.

We got home and went inside. No one was in the living room. ”Mom, we're back,” I called. I didn't see her, but I knew she'd hear me. I shoved Farah down the hall into my bedroom.

Farah plopped on the bed. ”Pete is absolutely better than I ever dreamed. We were having such a great time until you...”

”I know,” I said sharply. ”I'm the p.o.o.p who ruined your evening.” I sat down on the bed. ”Did you...”

Farah peered at me and rolled her eyes. ”It's rude to kiss and tell. But Pete's not a total fool. He knows he's older than me and it wouldn't be smart.”

Why did I get the feeling she was reciting a line instead of telling the truth?

She gazed off into s.p.a.ce. ”But oh, the preliminaries.”

”Preliminaries? Are you kidding me? That's what you're calling them?”

”Oh grow up,” she said. ”You're so busy judging every single thing in this universe you can't enjoy anything.”

I sat there, silent.

”Well, it's true Emili,” she continued. ”I've been trying for months to get you to shake it off and have some fun in life.” She leaned back on her elbows. ”Why do I even bother?”

”I wouldn't know.”

She sat up and tugged on my sleeve. ”But you have to admit, it was fun wasn't it? I know you like Lance.”

Her face radiated playful eagerness, and I couldn't help smiling. ”I don't want to like him. I have a boyfriend.”

”Yes, yes, I know. The perfect and proper Marc Rounder.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled. ”Marc's nice; even you have to admit it.”

”I never said he wasn't nice. He's just not, well, interesting. He's boring, Emili. I've said it a million times, and it's true.”

”Maybe a little, but not as bad as you make it out to be. He's nice and doesn't deserve to be treated this way.”

”Good grief, Emili, can't you have any fun at all?”

I grabbed the over-sized stuffed bear off my pillow and hugged it. ”The thing is, Farah, I've always wanted a guy like Lance - steamy and popular, and oh, he's gorgeous, isn't he? I never dreamed I'd actually have a chance with him. I can't help it, I like him. He makes me feel... uh, I can't put it into words.”

”Then why not just go with it?”

I put my cheek on the bear's soft fur.

Farah scooted closer. ”Were you making out while I was with Pete?”

I walked to the desk, pushed her suitcase aside, and began tinkering with my jewelry box. ”We kissed. I wouldn't call it making out.”

”Well, I would.” She laughed. ”I think you make a delightful couple.”

I swirled around. ”We're not a couple. I'm already a couple with Marc. And I need to talk to him.”

”Of course you do.” Farah stood and pulled off her skirt and top, dropping them in a heap on the floor. Then she kicked off her shoes and crawled into my bed, closing her eyes.

For once, I didn't straighten up her mess. I simply climbed into my sweats and shoved her over. There wasn't room for the both of us, but I squeezed in. I laid there for a long time with my eyes wide open before falling asleep.

The next morning, I didn't wake up until ten-fifteen. I stretched my arms over my head. How could I have slept so long? I figured I'd be awake all night stewing.

I glanced at Farah who was still asleep. Her mouth was slightly open, and I could hear her deep breathing. She was an inch away from snoring. I wriggled out of bed and pulled on my slippers. Then I retrieved my phone from my purse and with a stomach full of dread, turned it on.

Six texts from Marc.

Oh, please don't let him know.

I opened the first text. Hey Emili, I'm missing you. Did you come to the game? No one I know texts with full-out spelling except Marc. I shook my head in amus.e.m.e.nt. Farah called Marc perfect, and maybe he was. It did carry a certain charm.

I read through the next five messages. He told me he'd gone to the game after all. There was no mention of seeing me leave. My breath gushed out with relief.

I felt like sleaze. I knew I'd have to break up with him because it was the right thing to do. But Marc liked me, and this wasn't going to be easy. One thing was for sure - I had to get to him before he heard it from someone else. And big-mouth Jeannie was ever ready to pounce, especially if it was juicy news.

On Monday, I'd break up with him when we were face to face. I owed him that much at least. I texted him saying I'd see him Monday. I knew he wouldn't question me. He'd just dive back into his homework.

Farah woke up at eleven and went home at noon. I wasn't sorry to see her go. In fact, I was relieved and I didn't hide it too well, either.

Well, add it to my sins.

On Monday morning, I was hopeful. No fall-out so far. Maybe I didn't need to break up with Marc.

I'd thought about it all day Sunday. I knew Lance was completely out of my league, so it couldn't go anywhere. Besides, Farah had practically forced me into his arms or him into mine. I wasn't sure which. He'd never have come after me if she wouldn't have paired off with Pete.

It could be like it never happened.

I walked into school looking for Marc. As always, he was leaning nonchalantly against the outer office wall waiting for me.

”Mmm, you smell nice. New perfume, right? What's this one?”

”Don't you remember? It's the rose and cinnamon blend.”

”Whatever it is, it smells great. Hey, I missed you.” He tugged lightly on my sleeve. ”I missed our Friday night date, and I was busy studying the whole weekend.”

”I missed you, too.” I giggled, my spirits rising. I actually had missed him.

”You're in a good mood.” He pushed me playfully on the back, guiding me to my locker. ”Let's unload your stuff. How'd you do on the history a.s.signment?”