Anyway, I was really hoping my friends would just forget all about it, so we could talk about other stuff, but they’re totally grilling me. So I’m trying to make it sound awesome (because I want to impress them), while also trying to downplay the significance (which is not as easy as it sounds).

  “Oh, my god, I can’t believe you kissed him!” Jen Jen says. “He’s so incredibly hot!”

  “What are you gonna do about JC?” Kayla asks.

  “Nothing.” I shrug. “I mean, it’s not like I’m going out with Tyler or anything, it was just one kiss.”

  “But you said he said, ‘see you Monday’ ” Jen Jen says.

  “Well, yeah. We go to the same school, right?” I pick up the latest issue of Lucky magazine and start flipping through it, desperate to change the subject.

  “I think JC has a right to know,” Kristi says, casually inspecting her cuticles.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because he’s your boyfriend.” She looks at me.

  “Listen,” I say. “It was just one kiss. It’s really no big deal.” I look back at the glossy page, and try to focus on “Fifty Great Handbags!”

  “That’s not what you said in your e-mail.”

  “I was caught up in the moment!” God, why won’t she just let it go? “Well, I still think you owe it to him.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this.” I drop the magazine and shake my head. “You, of all people!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She gives me her infamous death stare.

  “You’re like this firm believer in the random hookup!”

  “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. And JC happens to be your boyfriend who told you he loves you,” she says firmly.

  “Yeah, and you’re the one that said he probably didn’t mean it!” I glare at her. She’s really starting to piss me off.

  “I don’t recall saying that. And if I did then I was probably just joking, and you took it seriously.”

  “You weren’t joking. You guys heard her say that, right?” I look at Jen Jen and Kayla, but their eyes are fixated on the ground.

  I shake my head and go, “Just let me handle it, okay?”

  “Whatever. It’s not like it’s any of my business.” She rolls her eyes and shrugs.

  The next morning I’m kind of dreading the ride to school with Kristi, because I don’t want her to get all judgmental about the JC-Tyler situation.

  But she doesn’t even mention it. Instead she just goes on and on about how Drew called her after we left, and how she snuck him into her house and they totally hooked up right there in her room.

  “Jeez, how many times have you guys hooked up now?” I ask.

  “I lost count.” She shrugs.

  “Are you guys, like, dating?”

  She pulls into the student lot and goes, “He totally asked me to commit, but I’m just not ready to get myself all tied down like you. So I said we should just keep things the way they are.” Then she looks at my purse and goes, “Oh, my god, where did you get that?”

  I smile and hold up my new Louis Vuitton bag. “My mom scored it for me.”

  “Give me that,” she says snatching it. “That is so Louis Faux-ton.”

  “No, it’s real. Look inside.”

  She unzips and scopes it out, and after using my Stila lip gloss, she hands it back and goes, “I thought there was a waiting list.”

  “My mom got it from Mario. They used it on a shoot and she got to keep it.”

  “Nice.”

  When I get out of the car I look for JC, because he’s usually in the parking lot tossing a football around with the other jocks while waiting for me. But he’s not here. And even though I’m not really anxious to see him, it still feels kind of weird.

  By lunch, I still haven’t seen him so I ask Kristi if she has.

  “Yeah,” she says, drinking from her can of Diet Coke. “He’s right over there. Are you guys in a fight or something?”

  I don’t answer, because I really don’t know the answer to that. What I do know is that when one of his friends sees me staring, he nudges JC. And then JC looks at me, then quickly looks away.

  And it makes me wonder if we are in a fight. And if so, why? I mean, there’s no way he could know about me kissing Tyler because the only people who know about that are my best friends, and they would never tell. So it must be something else. Only I can’t imagine what.

  I know I said I want to break up with him, and that’s still true. But the fact that he won’t talk to me kind of bothers me, especially when it might be my fault.

  So determined to get to the bottom of this, I get up from the table and approach him. But when he sees me coming, he walks away. And I’m left standing there, staring after him like a total reject.

  When I get back to my table, Kristi looks at me and goes, “Wow, looks like you guys are in a fight. I wonder if he found out about you and Tyler?” Then she smiles and takes another sip of her Diet Coke.

  After school I’m walking to the student lot with Kayla, who promised to give me a ride home (since my boyfriend won’t talk to me and everyone else is too busy for me—which doesn’t make me feel very popular), when Tyler walks up and goes, “Ready for your next lesson?”

  I glance at Kayla and she looks all alarmed and gives me this not-so-subtle head shake.

  But I just ignore all that and go, “Okay.”

  And Kayla says, “Um, Rio, are you sure you don’t want to go with me?” Still shaking her head.

  But I just look at her and go, “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  Then I turn my back on her disapproval and follow Tyler to his shiny, black Cadillac Escalade. I mean, if my boyfriend refuses to acknowledge me, then I’m free to do whatever I want, right?

  Tyler hands me the keys to his SUV and goes, “You drive.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask, hesitating.

  “It’s insured.” He smiles.

  I drive all the way home. And this thing is so seriously large and expensive that it makes me majorly nervous. I try to go slow and steady, but my hands are all shaky and even kind of sweaty, so when I stop in front of my house, I discreetly wipe the wheel with the sleeve of my pink velvet shrunken blazer so he won’t be grossed out when he goes to touch it later.

  Then I go, “How’d I do?”

  “Excellent,” he says. “You’re a natural.”

  We sit there smiling at each other, and I can feel my stomach growing all tight and nervous. Then he looks over at my house and asks, “Is anyone home?”

  I look at the driveway, scanning for my mom’s car. “Yeah, my mom’s home,” I say, even though her car’s not there. But I just don’t trust myself to be completely alone with him in a house with five bedrooms and no chaperones.

  “Bummer.” He shrugs.

  And when I look at him again, I wonder if I did the right thing, because there isn’t one girl in my entire school who wouldn’t trade places with me now. Thinking about that makes me want him even more.

  He pushes a button on his stereo and the song switches from middle-class, white-boy rap to something softer, less angry. And as he moves toward me I can hear the leather on his letterman’s jacket rubbing across the seat.

  And then he’s kissing me, and one of his hands is buried in my hair, while the other is slowly, carefully sliding its way down my shoulder, down my arm, and then over to my left breast.

  Then right as he’s angling his hand up under my double-layered Abercrombie & Fitch tank tops, I hear someone go, “Hey, Rio!”

  I immediately pull away, and cover my mouth with my hand. And when I turn I see JC, sitting in his dad’s Porsche, parked right next to us.

  “Oh, shit,” I mumble.

  “Dude, what are you doing?” Tyler asks, totally annoyed at the interruption.

  But JC just ignores him, and yells, “Hey, fuck you, Rio!” And his voice is really harsh and he looks really upset, like he’s gonna cry or something.


  “JC, wait!” I say, feeling really bad, but not exactly sure what to do about it.

  But Tyler’s already on the street and he’s approaching JC like he means business. “Dude, get a grip man, don’t talk to her like that!”

  “Stay out of it, bro, this is between Rio and me.” JC slams his door, then he looks at me and yells, “I can’t fucking believe you. I can’t believe you used me like that!”

  “I didn’t use you!” I shout from the driver’s seat. “You wouldn’t even talk to me, and Tyler was just giving me a ride home.” Okay, it’s not exactly the truth, but it’s not a complete lie, either.

  He’s heading toward the SUV and he looks really upset. And I feel really bad knowing I’m the reason.

  Then Tyler steps in front of him and holding up his hand, goes, “Dude, relax. We can work it out, okay?”

  But JC knocks Tyler’s hand out of the way, like he’s batting a fly, and he looks at me and goes, “Kristi warned me about you, but I didn’t believe her.” Then he rushes right at me and I jump onto the passenger seat, trying to get as far from him as possible.

  Tyler grabs him by the shoulder and says, “Dude, I’m serious, leave her alone.” Then he pushes JC so hard he loses his balance and nearly falls.

  And from inside the SUV I watch his face get even redder.

  JC looks at Tyler, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, hands shaking. And even though I’m totally against violence of any kind, I have to admit part of me is thinking: Ohmygod! Are they gonna fight?Over me?

  Because how cool would that be!

  I place my hands over my eyes, fingers slightly parted so I can see through the cracks, part of me anticipating the first swing, and the other part dreading it, since I really don’t want anyone to get hurt.

  But then JC suddenly stops and looks at Tyler, then back at me. Then he shakes his head and goes, “Fuck it, bro, she’s not worth it. You can have her.” Like I’m his property or something.

  Then he gets in the Porsche and drives away.

  That’s it? He gave up just like that?

  When Tyler turns and looks at me, I suddenly feel really embarrassed. Especially when he says, “Um, I should probably hit it.”

  So I go, “Oh, okay.” Then I get out of the SUV and watch him get in. And I feel like a total reject. It’s like, now that JC has “given” me to Tyler, it’s pretty obvious that he can’t wait to be rid of me, too.

  I’m walking toward my house when he goes, “Hey, come here!”

  So I swing around to face him, but he’s just dangling my backpack out the window. “You forgot your bag,” he says.

  So I grab it and head back toward my house, without once looking back.

  Twenty-six

  The next day the JC-Tyler story is being circulated all over school. And by lunch, I’ve definitely learned how even though there may be two sides to every story, people like to root for the underdog. Which means half the girls in school have turned on me, and the other half are ignoring me. And I’m not sure which is worse.

  Just yesterday when I walked down the hall, all these girls waved and smiled, trying to get my attention. But now it’s like the opposite of that. Now they whisper, and point. So by the time lunch rolls around, I’m feeling pretty low.

  “Am I still allowed to sit here?” I ask, half-joking and half-fearing what the answer will be.

  Kayla and Jen Jen assure me I’m still welcome, but Kristi just shrugs.

  I pull half a sandwich out of my lunch cooler and start to unwrap it when Kristi goes, “Well, I see you’ve still got your appetite.”

  Ohmygod, it’s half a sandwich! But I don’t react, I just shrug and say, “You know me,” then I take a bite, and chew it very slowly, just for her.

  She watches me for a moment, not even trying to hide her disgust, then she goes, “So you’re today’s headline. I knew something was up when you didn’t call last night.”

  “We were on the phone pretty late,” Kayla says.

  “You talked to Kayla?” Kristi eyes me closely.

  “We were on a conference call,” Jen Jen says.

  “Without me?” Kristi asks incredulously.

  “You weren’t home,” I say, even though the truth is no one tried to call her.

  “When?” she demands.

  We all look at one another, but Kristi sees it. “Just forget it,” she says, pouting and looking at me accusingly.

  “Relax. I did call you,” Jen Jen says. “But you didn’t answer your cell.”

  Kristi sits there, staring at us. “I went for a run,” she says, somewhat calmer, but still hostile toward me. Get in line.

  “So what’d you talk about?” she asks.

  “Duh?” Kayla says, and points at me.

  “I know that,” Kristi says, glaring at her. “I meant, what are you going to do?” She gives me a harsh look.

  “Nothing.” I shrug. “I tried apologizing this morning in the parking lot, but he just walked away, so I guess that’s it.” I take a bite of my tuna sandwich.

  “I heard some girl call you a skank,” Kristi tells me.

  Ouch, that hurts, but I don’t tell her that. “How can I be a skank when I’m a virgin?” I ask, laughing nervously.

  “Hmm, let’s see, maybe by cheating on your totally sweet boyfriend who’s in love with you?” She looks at me. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about it. I told her not to talk about you like that in front of me. I totally stuck up for you.” She takes a sip of her Diet Coke.

  As I sit there watching her, I remember that time my dad told me about Stockholm Syndrome, which is when a person is taken hostage and they start to act all friendly and supportive of their kidnapper, thinking that if they cooperate and act all nice and sympathetic, they’ll remain unharmed. Eventually they can become so isolated that they actually start to fear their rescuer.

  And I realize that’s exactly what it’s like being Kristi’s friend.

  I mean, obviously I’m not being held hostage, since technically I’m free to walk away at any time. But as long as I hang with her (and act all nice and sympathetic and put up with her abuse), I’m guaranteed popularity (which is the same as remaining unharmed). Whereas if I leave, fight back, or allow myself to be “rescued,” then I risk being cast out, shunned, and basically left to die alone. And believe me, like any good hostage-taker, Kristi knows she has all the power.

  “What?” she asks, totally annoyed that I’m staring.

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “You know, JC mentioned you yesterday.” I take another bite of my sandwich.

  “What’d he say?” she asks casually.

  “He said you warned him about me. Is that true?”

  I’m looking right at her, but she doesn’t even flinch. She just rolls her eyes and goes, “Get real. Why would I do that? I mean, quite frankly, I always thought JC was cute but a little slow.” She taps the side of her head. “But you liked him, so why would I be on his side? Besides, I just told you how I totally stuck up for you when that girl called you a skank. You could at least thank me.”

  But I don’t say thanks. I don’t say anything. Because right at that exact moment I see Tyler walking toward me. And I just sit there frozen, watching him get closer and closer until he’s standing right next to me.

  “Hey.” He smiles at me and ignores my friends.

  “Hey,” I say, as casual as possible.

  “Do you have a sec?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  I stuff the rest of my sandwich inside my lunch bag, and follow him to another table. He leans against the edge, and goes, “Sorry about yesterday.”

  I just shrug. Because now that I’ve been informed people think I’m a skank, I don’t really feel like reminiscing.

  “I didn’t know about you and JC.”

  “It wasn’t serious,” I say, looking down at the toe of my new round-toed pumps.

  “Wasn’t?”

  “We broke up.” I shrug.

  He nods and looks over a
t my friends (who are totally gawking at us and not even trying to hide it), then back at me. “Are you going to the Moondance?”

  Is he asking me out? And if so, is it because he thinks I’m a skank?

  “Um, no.” I shrug.

  “Wanna go with me?”

  I look up.

  Did he really just say that?

  “Well?” He smiles.

  “Yeah, okay,” I say all casual, even though my heart is thumping so hard I’m sure he can hear it.

  He leans in and kisses me, and it’s like I can still feel it even when it’s over. “I’ll call you,” he says.

  Then the bell rings. But when I get back to my table, my friends are willing to risk a tardy just to hear what happened.

  “He asked me to go to the Moondance,” I say, gathering my stuff. “What’d you say?” Kristi asks, eyes narrowed.

  “I said yes,” I look at her briefly, then throw my trash in the bin.

  “So now you’re going to the dance with Tyler, and I don’t even have a date?” she says, following closely behind me.

  “I guess so.” I head toward my locker.

  “Oh, my god, he is such a total hottie! You are so lucky!” Kayla says.

  “What are you gonna wear?” asks Jen Jen. “We totally have to go shopping!”

  They’re both smiling, like they really are happy for me. But Kristi looks furious.

  “I can’t fucking believe this,” she says. “I can’t fucking believe you have a date and I don’t.”

  She’s standing next to my locker with her hands on her hips, totally glaring at me, like it’s just so unbelievable that two different guys could like me in the course of a week. It’s not my fault no one’s asked her yet.

  And you know what? I’m starting to get a little tired of her attitude. I’m also starting to feel a little more confident than I did twenty minutes ago. So I say, “What about Drew? You said he was bugging you to commit.”

  Kayla and Jen Jen look at her in shock. “Is that true?” they ask.

  But she ignores them.

  Then right as I slam my locker shut I go, “Well, if all else fails, I heard JC is available.”