Class Favorite (27 page)

“You about ready for finals?” he asked.

“Not in the least. I've always been a bad test-taker.”

“Oh, come on. What about that last algebra exam you killed on?”

“Please. That was pure luck.”

“Hey, what about the brilliant tutoring?” He did that cocky-wicked-adorable smile that made my heart go
hum-an-a-hum-an-a
.

“Actually, I didn't learn a thing,” I said, trying to keep calm. “Used a cheat sheet.”

“Aw,” he said, and grabbed my waist like he had on our library sorta-date, giving me a tickle that made me squeal like a total girly-girl. I tried to break free—from the tickling, not his hands—but he stopped, and leaned beside the window again. I looked out the window, wondering how I got to be here, in Jason Andersen's secret room.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked.

Instead of confessing any of the number of thoughts running through my mind—
do I smell, what is Arlene doing, will he kiss me, does this mean we're together?
—I asked him the question I really wanted to know the answer to, even if I looked dumb asking it. “How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come you asked me here tonight?”

Jason laughed, looking toward the window as he brushed his hair off his forehead. He looked back at me. “Are you serious?”

“I don't know,” I said, realizing I was totally putting him on the spot
and
asking a stupid question. But I wanted to know. I folded my arms across my chest as a gesture of defiance. “Yes.”

He laughed at my seriousness. “Okay, I'm game. Let's see . . . why do I like Sara Thurman. Hmm . . . let me count the ways. . . .”

“Forget it! That's not what I meant. I'm not fishing for compliments or anything.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I don't know.” I suddenly felt stupid. To ask a guy why he likes you seemed like a good way to make him not like you. But I didn't get a lot of what was happening in my life right then, so I figured I might as well try to get one thing straight. Besides, why
would
Jason Andersen like me? I wasn't exactly a smooth kind of girl.

“It's just that,” I continued, “I've known you since elementary school. And we've had English together this whole year. How come you just now started to like me?”

Jason sighed and said, “Well. I don't know. I guess I didn't really notice you before. I don't want this to sound harsh, but
you've made it pretty hard to miss anything you do this year—or at least this semester.”

“So you like a girl who loves making a fool of herself?” I was trying to sound hurt, but the truth is, I knew what he meant, and I liked that he was so honest.

“Maybe,” he said. “But for a girl who gets herself in more . . .
situations
than anyone I've ever met, you're pretty good at staying cool through it all. Most girls would have started homeschooling the second they read the card on the flowers. And those things on your locker. . . .”

“Oh, God, please, Jason!” I buried my face in my hands in mortified embarrassment. “Don't ever talk about that again!”

He laughed. “You know what I mean. I guess I admire how, no matter what you're dealt with, you seem to take it all in stride. Most girls in our grade would have freaked out long ago. You just seem above all that.” He
admired
me?! I couldn't believe that.

He looked at my lips, his eyes all soft, and before I knew it, he was leaning into my lips and we were kissing. I tried not to exhale too much, worried that my breath might stink of guacamole. I was also thinking,
Jason Andersen is kissing me. Oh, my god, Jason Andersen is kissing me!

I tried to enjoy the moment, but I couldn't help thinking about how I should react once we stopped: Should I do a no-teeth-showing smile with flirty eyes? Or say something hot
like, “That all you got?” Should I be aggressive and dive back in for more? Should I thank him?

It wasn't until we stopped that I realized how awesome kissing was. I'd heard slobbering stories about unfortunate first kisses, but with Jason, in the secret room at his party, kissing was sublime. And you can believe me, because I'd never use a word like
sublime
unless I really meant it.

Jason took a slight step back and, looking down at the carpet, asked, “You want to go back downstairs?”

I thought,
Um . . . no!!
But I nodded yes, and we started toward the door.

As Jason pushed open the door-shelf, he asked, “Hey, did you ever find out who did that to your locker?”

I thought of Arlene and how amazing she was for babysitting so I could be here with Jason, just like I'd been dreaming of. I thought of Kirstie, too, and how nice she'd been to me since first starting school here, but also how she hadn't made many other friends. I couldn't help but remember what Arlene had said about her: Just why was she so nice to me, so quickly?

“Never found out for sure,” I told Jason. “But I know who didn't do it.”

21

Do You Fight Fair?

Your sister has just accused you of stealing her favorite green cardigan . . . again. You:

a) tell her she can shove her cardigan where the sun don't shine, then take her silver hoop earrings just to show her.

b) simply tell her you didn't take it, and refuse to continue the conversation if she persists.

c) tell on her for falsely accusing you, and try to get her grounded for it.

 

As Jason and I left the secret room and walked down the stairs, I felt like we were royalty, walking regally, with our people below us. I saw Olivia Randall, whose locker was in the same hallway as mine, do a double-take when she saw us, and Richie Adams did the same. I thought I heard the quiet gasps of Bowie students, and then the frantic whispering of the new gossip: Him? With
her
? I'm
not sure people actually said that, but it wouldn't have surprised me. I still couldn't believe it myself.
Me?
With
him
? But there I was, and there we were. And it felt pretty great and surprisingly comfortable.

Everyone was crowded in the living room, and the music was louder than I remembered. It looked like everyone was having a great time, and with Jason there with me, it was turning out to be a stellar night—one of the best ever.

Shiner sat on the edge of the beige couch, people-watching as he drank from his plastic cup. He looked at me sort of knowingly—it was something in the way he held his mouth, slightly nodding his head. Like he approved, but not in a gross way.

“Jason!” Rosemary called as she and Kayla scooted over to the three of us by the couch, all smiles. “So, uh . . . where've y'all been, huh?”

I was busted and loved it—I felt a sense of pride, like now everyone knew we had sneaked off to a private room upstairs. A smile forced its way onto my embarrassed face, but I was shocked when I glanced at Jason and
he
was blushing. Rosemary said, “Yeah. That's what we thought,” and I was so completely flustered, except this time it wasn't the mortifying kind I was used to.

Looking at Jason, his cheeks flushed red, and at Shiner and Rosemary and even Kayla, all of us hanging out, I just couldn't
help laughing—it was so crazy! Had my CF list really worked, or was it my own self that got me there? Did these people really like me, or did they just like me because Jason did? It didn't matter: I was at a party with the unapproachables, and now they seemed like regular people—except maybe better-looking. The only thing that was missing was Arlene, I sadly realized.

Kirstie approached us and nudged herself between me and Rosemary, who stood near me but not right next to me. I refrained from dragging her by the wrist off to a corner to divulge all the kissing details. In a lowered voice, she said, “You abandoned me. Thanks a lot.”

She seemed upset, but Rosemary joked, “She abandoned all of us.”

“Hey, where's your friend I used to always see you hanging out with?” Kayla asked me. “Marlene?”

“Arlene,” I corrected, a sudden pang shooting through my stomach. I didn't want anything bad happening tonight, but she had been in the back of my mind all evening.

“Right,” Rosemary said. “I thought y'all were inseparable or something.”

“We got in a fight,” I said. I could feel Kirstie's eyes on me, and I knew she felt for me.

“Really?” Rosemary asked. “What happened?”

Nervousness began to build inside me, and everyone's eyes
were on me, waiting for a response while Kirstie fiddled with the edges of her hair. I didn't want everyone to know our business, so I just said, “Oh, nothing. We'll be fine.”

Kayla said, “Hey, I've been wondering. Did you ever find out who trashed your locker?”

I did not want to talk about that or remember it, especially when the night was going so well. I shook my head. “No, but it doesn't matter. It's over with.”

“Can you imagine what it takes for a person to do that to someone?” Rosemary asked.

“Totally,” Kayla agreed.

“But I'm glad you're okay now,” Rosemary said. “At least, you seem to be.”

“With Sara, you can never be sure,” Jason teased as he put his hand on my lower back. “She's probably hyperventilating on the inside.” I smiled and nudged him.

It felt amazing to have their support, but I couldn't help but notice a weird vibe zooming around our circle. Kirstie kept a vigilant watch on the carpet, while Shiner's eyes darted from Kirstie to me to the floor.

A moment that seemed like eternity passed as we all looked around at one another. Finally, Shiner spoke up.

“If you don't tell her, I will.” Shiner looked at Kirstie, who stood as still as a wax figure.

“What?” she managed.

“You better tell her,” he pressed.

“What's going on?” I asked, looking between them. Shiner shook his head, like he was disappointed. I looked to Kirstie. “What is it?”

She looked like she was going to cry. Kirstie Luegner, who I always thought could take on anyone in any room, was on the verge of tears. And for what?

Kirstie mumbled, “The thing about your locker . . .” She looked up at me, but quickly dropped her eyes down again. “Look, the thing is, it's . . . I know who did it.”

Everyone was staring at Kirstie, eagerly awaiting what she had to say. I had a feeling what was coming, but whatever she told me, I decided it was between the two of us. There was no reason for everyone to hear. Plus, without all the prying eyes, she might be more honest—with herself and with me.

“Come here,” I said, pulling her into the entry hall for privacy. I could feel her hand shaking. “What's going on?”

She took a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.” I nodded. “I've sort of been lying to you.”

“Sort of?”

“Okay. Massively. Remember how I told you I was voted Most Popular at my old school? Well, I wasn't. I've never been popular. I just said that so you'd think I was cool or something.” I waited for her to say more. “The truth is, I don't know how to make friends. You'd think I would, after all the moving we've
done, but I don't. I just fake it, or pretend to be important until someone—anyone—lets me in. Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“I don't know,” I said, because I honestly didn't. I didn't know what it was like to move around a lot, but I did know that when Arlene and I stopped talking, I was clueless as to how to make new friends. “You didn't have to lie, though. You're a really nice person.”

“Yeah, well, tell it to the people at my last school,” she said. “What I did there was awful. You think you get embarrassed. . . .”

“I doubt you have anything that can top my embarrassments.”

“Your embarrassments—they were all out of your control. The only thing that was in your control was how you handled everything, and you handled it all brilliantly. Not like me.” She shook her head, her eyes welling up. “At my last school, I was just so tired of moving and trying to start over. I got too desperate, too fast for friends. There was this one girl—you could take one look at her and know she was popular. We were both in the bathroom between classes one day, and I offered her twenty bucks to be my friend. I don't know what I was thinking. As soon as I said it, I regretted it. But then she started laughing. She was all, ‘What did you say?' Real loud. Soon everyone heard about it. It was awful. I had no one until I moved here.” She wiped away a tear that ran down her cheek.
“When I saw you in the office—and heard why you got those flowers—I thought you were someone that I could, not just be friends with, but someone I could take care of. You don't know what it's like, always being alone. I don't have any brothers or sisters, and my mom's been taking care of us both since I was born. No one's ever needed me. I just wanted to matter.”