Part 12 (2/2)

”You promise about the cutting?”

”I said I wouldn't, didn't I?”

”I mean it, Farah.”

”I heard you, and told you I wouldn't. It wasn't such a big deal, anyway.”

I completely disagreed, but I said nothing. I stared at her, feeling a huge weight of sadness.

She punched my arm. ”Cheer up, Emili. As I said, everything's fine. Quit worrying.” She laughed. The pitch of her voice was unnaturally high. ”See you Monday.”

”Farah, before you go, can I ask you something?”

”What?”

I struggled to get the words out, but if I couldn't ask my best friend, who could I ask? ”What was it like?”

Farah raised her eyebrows and shook her head. She sat back down. ”The s.e.x? It was great.” Her voice had a strange edge, which didn't match her words.

”Truthfully?”

She frowned. ”Okay, if you must know, it's weird. And it kinda hurts - I'm not used to it yet, and I don't want to talk about it. But, it makes Pete happy, and I like him a lot, Emili. If it makes him happy, well, then...”

I peered into her eyes. Maybe Pete was happy, but she sure wasn't. And when had I ever known Farah to be interested in whether someone else was happy?

”I gotta go. Later.”

”Farah-” I started. She hurried from my room. I watched her go, and the sadness still hovered over me.

I climbed back under my covers. I wanted to sleep for a week.

And have no dreams.

Without my phone, it was impossible to keep up with anything. Maybe Lance had called or texted and was waiting for an answer. I knew how mad I got at Farah when she didn't answer.

When Monday finally came, I hurried into school and saw Lance standing next to his locker. Jennifer Gibbons stood with him - the same girl who was strangely at the drinking fountain every time Lance went near. I again observed her every perfect blonde hair and curve. She'd struck a pose, preening like a princess at the ball. She was also leaning way too close to Lance, which didn't seem to bother him one bit.

”Lance!” I called.

He looked over and waved. He turned back to Jennifer and teasingly pushed her on the back. She walked away but not before glancing back at him with a way-too-friendly-smile. The whole scene appeared awfully cozy to me.

”Cecily! I tried to call you all weekend.”

”No phone. Part of my punishment.”

”Sorry. How bad was it?”

”Not as bad as I thought. Mom took my phone and gave me a lecture on how disappointed she was.”

”When do you get your phone back?”

”Four more days.”

He looked at his watch. ”And how many minutes?”

”Not sure.” I shrugged and hit his arm playfully.

”What did you do all weekend?”

”Slept, studied, sat around. Nothing much. Farah came over.”

He stopped moving. ”She did? You didn't get in trouble?”

”Hey, this is Farah we're talking about. Of course, she didn't get me in trouble. She sweet talks her way in and out of everything.”

He nodded. ”Yeah, not surprising.”

I studied his face and my mind started in. My jealousy of Farah where Lance was concerned was getting bothersome. Why did I bring her up? Was this some sort of evil self-punishment? I shook my head and faced facts. I was testing him, watching his expressions and voice for clues. Who did he like best - Farah or me?

I knew it was absurd even while I was doing it. Yet I'd do it again. Checking, always checking. Self Torture 101. The bell rang.

”We'd better get going. I'll try to see you later,” Lance said. He touched my shoulder and took off.

”See you,” I said. My eyes fastened on him walking down the hall. No matter how many times I stared at him, it still gave me delicious tingles up and down my body.

I paused, motionless, enjoying the sensation. And then another image jerked me right out of my dreams and sent cold fingers over my heart. For some reason, the picture of Farah and Lance together rose before me. I shook my head in disgust at my imagination and quickly turned on my heel.

I rushed off in the direction of cla.s.s and spotted Marc. I couldn't catch a break. He looked down at me, his face turning pale. ”Okay, awkward moment!” he said. Then he chuckled and his color returned. ”How are you, Emili?”

My smile was wobbly. ”I'm okay.”

”Me, too.” He seemed better than okay - he seemed happy.

”I miss you sometimes,” I blurted. I felt my face go red. Would I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?

His eyes widened. ”Uh - well - thanks.”

We stood there for a painful moment, not moving. His eyes narrowed - scrutinizing me. I'd revealed way too much.

”Bye,” I said quickly and escaped.

I needed to plaster tape over my mouth. I miss you sometimes. What was my problem? Homeroom was up ahead, and I broke into a run. I hurried into the cla.s.sroom and dove into my seat as the last bell rang.

”What's the rush?” Jeannie asked. ”You still had at least a half second left.”

”Yeah, whatever,” I replied. Like I wanted to sit there and chat it up with Marc's new love interest.

<script>