Kiss & Sell (29 page)

My response was to place my forehead down on the top of the table. I prayed that she wouldn’t push the subject. But either her mom-dar was on the fritz or her parental intuition had screamed for her to interfere, because she wasn’t having it.

“Uh, oh. What happened?” I groaned as she asked it.

“Do we really have to do this now? it’s still early and I’m really tired,” I answered, hoping she’d take pity on me and just leave me alone.

“Well, we can either talk about this now while we eat this amazing breakfast I just slaved over, and try to figure out how to fix whatever is bothering you. Or you can choose
not
to tell me, which will result in me repeatedly asking you about it all day long, until you give in,” she said as she walked over to the fridge and pulled something off the shelf. Returning to the table, she placed a cold can of red Bull in front of me, but kept her hand on it for leverage.

I couldn’t believe that she was blackmailing me into telling her what happened! My own mother. I was shocked. I was outraged. And to be honest, I was a little impressed that she’d gone with a more direct strategy than her usual reverse psychology bit.

I wanted to refuse, but between the smells that were coming from the frying pan (the tri-fecta of chocolate, bananas and peanut butter) and my extreme need for caffeine, I reluctantly gave in.

“Fine,” I said, without energy. I snatched the red Bull from her hand and popped the top. “The dance was a disaster.”

“How so?” Mom asked as she walked over to the stove to flip our breakfast.

“Well, everything was fine until we got to the dance. Ryder was the perfect date. We went to this really nice restaurant for dinner…”

“What’d you get?”

“Ravioli.”

My mom nodded her approval and then motioned for me to go on.

“And I even started to get used to the cameras following us around the whole time. But then when we got to the dance, I ran into McCartney and Phin, who are officially pissed at me.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t ride in the limo with them to the dance,” I said, shrugging. “I guess they felt like I ditched them or something. And then when I showed up with an entire TV crew—that I didn’t tell them about—it pushed them over the edge.”

“Did you explain that you
couldn’t
tell them?”

I rolled my eyes. “I tried to. But then McCartney accused me of
changing
and then said some really mean things about me while the cameras were taping. I was so humiliated that I ran out of there before the dance was even over.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” she answered, giving me a tight hug.

As she rubbed my back, she grew silent. Which was unusual for her. Mom
always
had an opinion.

“What?” I asked, knowing that I was about to be “Shrink-ed.”

“Well, I was just thinking that McCartney is…kind of right,” she said carefully.

Are you kidding me? What was this, bash Arielle weekend? I looked at my mom incredulously.

“Hear me out,” she answered, searching my face. “You
have
changed, Arielle. Over the past month, you’ve grown more self-assured, confident and adventurous. You’ve come out of your shell, and for the first time, you’ve really stepped out from behind McCartney and Phin’s shadows and into your own spotlight.”

I blinked in surprise. Was it possible Mom was right? Had I changed that much? sure, I’d been more outgoing in general lately. I mean, going on that talk show and getting back at Dan stevenson for spreading those rumors about me—the old me would never have done all that. And it
was
sort of true that I hadn’t been as dependent on McCartney or Phin lately. Before the last few weeks, I never would’ve been able to survive a whole night alone with a guy as cute as Ryder, let alone as famous. And agreeing to be on the Dance Committee? Forget about it. Before, I only would’ve signed up if McCartney and Phin were doing it, too.

So, maybe I had changed…slightly. But I couldn’t see how being more self-sufficient and sociable would be a bad thing.

“McCartney sort of said the same thing to me,” I confessed. “only she wasn’t as nice about it.”

“I bet she was just hurt and scared, and that made her say some things she didn’t exactly mean,” Mom said.

“Nope, I’m pretty sure she meant it,” I said recalling how mad she’d been. “Besides, what could she possibly be scared about?”

My mom turned off the stove and brought over the ginormous plate of French toast, placing it in the middle of the table. I grumpily snagged a few pieces of the stuffed bread and slathered it in syrup. Across the table, my mom did the same.

“Did you ever think that maybe she’s scared that you’re going to outgrow your friendship and pretty soon you won’t need her anymore? Or maybe she’s worried that you’ll move on without her?” Mom answered, between mouthfuls.

“McCartney knows I’ll
always
be her friend,” I said. “Well, if it were up to me, at least. How could she even think that I’d ditch her?”

My mom finished chewing what was left in her mouth and then washed it down with a gulp from her “Mommy Dearest” mug.

“Didn’t you kind of already do that?” she said, evenly. “I’m not trying to be mean here, Arielle, but didn’t you choose to go to the dance with Ryder instead of with your friends?”

I frowned as I stuffed a forkful of food into my mouth.

“Now, I’m not saying that what you did was wrong, and I think that both of your emotions are running a little high right now, but maybe before you write her off, you should try to see things from her perspective.”

“But I already tried to talk to her about it and she said all those horrible things…”

“So try
again
,” Mom said, taking another sip of her coffee. “Don’t you think that seven years of friendship is worth more than one attempt at a reconciliation?”

She had a point. And I didn’t exactly like the idea of holding auditions for a new BFF or going through the rest of my high school experience solo. But getting back to where McCartney, Phin and I had been wouldn’t be as easy as Mom made it sound. “Fine. But I’m still mad at her for the things she said.”

Mom just nodded, knowing that once I’d cooled down I’d do the right thing.

When she was finished, she got up from the table to clear her plate and give me some time to think about everything. Oddly, as I sat there, I felt my anger start to subside and fade into guilt. Deep down I knew that McCartney was just scared of losing our friendship, and I could sort of see why she felt that way. In fact, I was beginning to think that our fight was mostly my fault.

God, I hope it’s not too late to make things right between us and save this friendship.

“Thanks for the talk, Mom,” I said, bolting out of my chair.

I started to gather my dishes, but she waved me off. “Go talk to McCartney and Phin. I’ll clean up.”

I gave her a smile I hoped showed how much I appreciated her, and then rushed upstairs into my bedroom. Crashing down in front of my computer, I signed into
IM and to my relief, saw that both McCartney and Phin were online. I opened windows with both of them and started typing.

ME:
YOU THERE? LOOK, I’m REALLY SORRY. ABOUT EVERYTHING. CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT IT?

I waited for a response, but it never came. As the minutes ticked by, my heart sank a little lower. I wanted so badly to fix everything that had happened, but their lack of response wasn’t looking good. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. An ache began to form in my throat as I thought about what I might have lost.

“I leave you alone for
one week
and this is what happens?” a voice asked from behind me. “You’re sitting in the dark, looking like the unibomber, and I’ve gotta be honest—you could use a shower.”

I turned around and saw McCartney and Phin standing in my doorway. To say my heart soared would’ve been an understatement. McCartney leaned against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a wry smile on her face, while Phin stood behind her like a bodyguard.

Though I was happy to see them, I was also totally confused. The last time we’d been in the same room together, we’d been at each other’s throats. now, they were standing in my room, smiles on their faces. I decided I didn’t care why they were there or what had changed since the night before.

Without thinking, I jumped up and ran over to them, throwing my arms around their necks and squeezing tightly. When I’d gotten my fill, I let go and took a step back.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted out, at the same time McCartney said, “We’re sorry!”

We all looked at each other in disbelief and then burst out laughing.

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who totally left you guys hanging with the whole limo and dance thing.”

“But
we’re
the ones who pressured you into doing this whole eBay thing in the first place. And then we got weird when the whole plan actually worked…”

“I let my worry over a stupid kiss get in the way of our friendship and that wasn’t fair, either,” I admitted, looking down at the ground.

“And I was scared that we were growing apart. That eventually you wouldn’t need us anymore,” McCartney said, her lip trembling slightly. “You have to know
that
nothing
I said last night was true. People don’t really think you’re lame because you haven’t kissed anyone. I was just pissed.”

I nodded, noting that Mom had been right all along. I hated when that happened.

“Yeah, but contract or no contract, I should’ve told you about the MTV thing. I
know
I can trust you guys with anything.”

“I feel the same way!”

“Can this fight be over now?” I asked

“Yes, please!” McCartney exclaimed.

Then we practically lunged at each other. As we hugged again, I felt a third pair of arms reach around the both of us, completing the threesome.

“You guys are such
girls
!” Phin said, sarcastically but clearly happy about our reunion.

“You’re one to talk,
Phinelope
,” McCartney answered, between sniffles.

“I’ve missed you two so much, you have no idea!” I said as I listened to them bicker like usual.

After a few minutes, we turned down the dial on the dramatics, and looked at each other expectantly.

“You guys wanna do something today? Watch a movie, go to the mall? I’ll even let you guys pick,” I said, hoping they didn’t already have plans.

“Actually, we sort of had something
Else
in mind,” McCartney said, looking over at Phin conspiratorially.

“Oh no. Should I be worried?”

The two walked further into my room, until they were standing right in front of my computer. McCartney leaned down and read the messagess I’d sent them before they’d shown up. Then she looked back at me, with a smile. “We were already on our way.”

They
hadn’t
been ignoring me after all.

“Not that I’m unhappy about it or anything, but what made you come over here? you guys were so mad at me last night and you wouldn’t even let me explain…”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Phin cut in. “We were too invested in our pity party to stop and listen.”

“After you left, Ryder came back to the dance,” McCartney said.

“He did?” I asked surprised. “Why?”

“He said there was something we had to see. And then he showed us the tape,” she said. I looked at them, confused. “We saw the interview you did in the limo.”

The confessional. What had I said again? “oh.”

“We had no idea you were such a
cheeseball
.”

I’d always loved McCartney’s ability to underplay a sentimental moment. Even so, we all knew what that video had meant to our friendship. Before things could get all mushy again, she seemed to snap out of it, and turned back to my computer, letting her fingers flutter over the keys at a pace much faster than my own.

“You know what today is, don’t you?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Sunday?” I answered.

“Yes,
smartass
,” Phin said, rolling his eyes. “But it’s
also
the day we find out who will become your first kiss.”

I looked at them blankly.

“The bidding on your kiss ended this morning,” McCartney explained, still focused on my computer.

Nerves suddenly filled my system and I felt the need to sit down.

“Wow. Okay,” I said in a daze. “So, what do we do now?”

“We take a look at who put in the final bid,” she answered, softly. “Are you ready to do this?”

That was a good question. The idea of coming one step closer to my first kiss made me want to hurl. But after everything that had happened how could I say no?

“Um, sure. Yeah. I mean, that’s why we did all of this, right?”

McCartney gave me an encouraging look and turned back around to stare at the screen. “okay, I’m logging in now. Clicking on the winning bid and waiting for the buyers information,” she said. “You want to do the honors?”

I nodded, unable to speak. She got up and we switched spots. I kept my eyes locked on the keyboard to stall. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it might burst from my chest. Slowly, I looked up at the screen in front of me. Then, I sucked in a sharp breath as my eyes focused on the name of the person with the winning bid.

You’ve
got
to be kidding me.