Messy (29 page)

Max frowned. “In a way, that makes it worse,” she said.
“It’s like I drove him back to that hosebeast. But can you imagine if he tried to make out with
me
at the lockers? I might’ve accidentally had to break his face. It would’ve been like those stories where a kid gets pinned under a tire and the mother finds the superstrength to lift the car.”

“Well, I’m sure the rest of the school would have enjoyed that.” Molly plucked the toothpicks out of her sandwich. “But you can’t avoid him for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t have to,” Max said. “I only have to avoid him until we graduate next spring. Don’t underestimate my skills.”

“Very healthy. I’ve noticed you’re practicing your craft with Brooke, too.”

Max pierced a fry with especial zeal. “I don’t want to talk about Brooke.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to overrule you on that one,” Molly said, picking a slice of tomato off her sandwich. “What went down between the two of you? Brooke won’t tell me why she’s writing the blog herself now.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘writing.’ ”

Molly just raised a brow.

“Sorry,” Max mumbled. “We just… weren’t working very well together.”

Max could tell Molly was unsatisfied with this answer. But Max wasn’t ready to say anything else. She’d always championed taking the high road, because of how gratifying it was to know you’d won the moral war, and how
delicious said satisfactory smugness could taste. (Almost as good as bacon. Delicious, forbidden bacon.) And yet there she’d sat at her computer that night, digitally stabbing Brooke in the back—over a boy, no less; it was so irritatingly
Gossip Girl—
and then getting huffy when Brooke called her on it. That weakness of character nibbled at her, to the point that Max hadn’t cashed her last check. She didn’t think she’d done much to earn it this time.

“I’m sure Brooke will tell you everything,” she told Molly. “And her version will be way more entertaining. If she tells you I came at her with a machete, though, please know it’s not true. It was just a butter knife.”

“Actually, Brooke isn’t saying much to anyone these days,” Molly said. “I don’t think she’s sleeping very well. She just told me you were having artistic differences. I figured it must have had something to do with that crazy piece you wrote the other day.” Molly set down her sandwich. “What
was
that, Max?”

In that instant, Max remembered that Brooke Berlin wasn’t just some expendable teen actress. She was also Molly’s sister.
Great. Now I’ve alienated my best friend on top of everything else.

“I don’t know what happened. I guess… I kind of lost it.” Max flinched. “You think I’m an asshole, don’t you?”

Molly just raised an eyebrow. “I definitely don’t think you’re an asshole,” she said. “But beyond that I don’t really know
what
to think. Neither one of you will tell me what
actually happened. I have a lot of theories, though, and all of them involve Brady Swift.”

Max covered her eyes with her hands. She was saved from having to answer when Teddy slammed his own cafeteria tray on the table and sat down with a thump.

“I hate everyone,” he announced.

“Not you, too,” Molly groaned.

“We lost the contest,” he said. “Bone just got the call from MTV.”

Max uncovered her face. Teddy looked seriously bummed. “I’m sorry, Teddy.”

“Me, too,” Molly said, reaching out to thread her fingers through his.

Teddy shrugged. “I’m not really surprised. Everyone hated my song.”

“Not me,” Molly said loyally. There was a pause.

“Ow!” Max winced, grabbing at her ankle where Molly had kicked it. “I mean, I liked it, too.” Teddy gave her a glare that said,
Sure, real convincing.

“I did!” Max protested. “I was just”—at that moment, she spied Jake and Jennifer walking across the quad, deep in conversation—“distracted,” she finished lamely. “I am sorry, Ted. That bites.”

“It’s okay. The Internet doesn’t lie. I was a flop,” Teddy said. “I can live with that, but I feel bad for Bone and the guys. I demanded to perform my song, and that’s why we ended up losing. Apparently, MTV is not interested in being in business with an emo angst bag.”

“You are not an emo angst bag,” Molly said.

“At
most
you are a very small sachet of torment,” Max contributed.

“Clever. You should start a blog,” Teddy said pointedly.

“Touché,” she admitted. “But come on—you’ve never demanded anything in your life. Except that Christmas that I tried to steal your Transformers and you ordered me to lock myself in the closet.”

“And look how well
that
turned out. You should still be in there.”

“I’m just saying, don’t beat yourself up.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Molly said, swigging her Diet Coke.

“And
you
are both biased,” Teddy responded. “The song was totally wrong for the venue. I don’t know what I was thinking. Basically, I torpedoed this for the rest of the band, all because I was totally hung up on thinking people were watching Brick Berlin’s Daughter’s Boyfriend instead of all of us as a group. I feel like such a loser.”

Molly sighed. “No, you just got sucked into the Berlin family celebrity drama. Sometimes it’s exciting, but once people start mentioning your name in the same breath as Brick’s, or even Brooke’s, it’s easy to lose perspective. Even if you don’t think that kind of thing has any effect on you.” She squeezed his hand. “Trust me, I should know. The other day I spent ten minutes picking out my shoes because I didn’t want to get it wrong. You know, just in case.”

“Been there,” Max agreed. “Besides, you were just trying to stand out. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with
wanting to get some attention for your own work instead of always doing what somebody else wants you to do. I mean, God, she’s not the boss of your whole life.”

Oops.
Both Molly and Teddy shot her very knowing looks.

“Sounds like this hits a little close to home,” Teddy said.

“I’m just saying that you’re allowed to get sick of being a cog in someone else’s machine. That’s all,” Max replied airily.

“Okay, but I didn’t even care about winning the contest in the first place,” Teddy said. “Why didn’t I just play along? No pun intended.”

“But it’s not like you just sprung this song on them as a surprise,” Molly pointed out. “They signed off on you playing it for the contest, right?”

“Yeah,” Teddy admitted. “Bone said he liked it.”

“So there you go,” Max said. “You made the decision as a group and it didn’t pay off. You shouldn’t feel guilty about that.”

Unlike me. I totally earned my guilty feelings.

“Have you talked to the rest of the band?” Molly asked.

“No,” Teddy said, picking at his spaghetti.

“Well,” Molly said, looking sideways at Max, “I think you might feel better if you did. Bottling up this sort of thing isn’t very helpful.”

“Can I just wallow for a little bit, please?” Teddy asked, sounding a little crabby.

“Wallowing is highly underrated,” Max agreed.

Molly looked from brother to sister and blew her overgrown bangs out of her eyes. “Tough week for the McCormack family,” was all she said.

“It’s not like the Berlins are that much better off,” Teddy said, twirling some pasta around his fork.

“What do you mean?” Molly asked, furrowing her brow.

Teddy set down his fork and looked up at her. “Wait, didn’t you hear?” He wrestled his cell from the front pocket of his jeans. “This is probably the first time in the history of the world that I’ve found out about something before you have. But everyone in my senior seminar was talking about it.”

Teddy handed over his phone. Molly and Max put their heads together and looked at his browser. It was set to a blindingly pink-and-purple Tumblr called BabblingBrooke.com.

Max ripped the phone out of Molly’s hand. The site was clearly anti-Brooke, with the tagline “Stupid is the new black” and entries pretending to be written by Brooke that parodied the new OpenBrooke.com. The top entry said simply, “Chewing is neat!”

Molly rubbed her forehead. “Well, I guess it was only a matter of time before the joke blogs started,” she said, almost to herself. “I just hope it doesn’t stress Brooke out
more
. Last night she ate an entire bag of Cheetos during
Lust for Life
.”

“Maybe she’ll be flattered,” Max said, adopting her best
Brooke imitation to add, “After all, you’re
nobody
until you’ve been parodied.”

Molly laughed in spite of herself. “Not bad, and also, probably correct.”

Teddy ran a hand through his unruly dark hair. He shook his head. “Can we get a do-over on this week, do you think?”

Unthinkingly, Max pulled over the untouched half of Molly’s club sandwich and picked out a piece of crispy bacon. She popped it into her mouth. “Tell me about it.”

“Excuse me, did you just eat a
pork product
?” Teddy asked. He looked stunned, then broke into a smile. “Doesn’t that mean you owe me twenty bucks from, like, forever ago? What’s the interest on that?”

Max groaned. “I
really
hate everyone,” she repeated.

THE REST OF THE DAY
passed in a blur. One or two more parodies went up on BabblingBrooke.com. Max considered texting Brooke about it, but it was none of her business, and besides, Brooke would definitely prefer talking it through with Molly. Strange to think that the long-lost half sister who had incited so much insecurity nine months ago was now the most soothing presence in Brooke’s life. Then again, nine months ago Max probably would’ve started that site herself, and now she was stressing about how it might hurt Brooke’s feelings. No doubt about it: The universe was screwing with her.

After the final bell rang, Max trudged down the hallway toward Mr. Kemp’s classroom. She was late for yet another Spring Carnival planning meeting and toyed
with the idea of ditching again—especially since Jake and Jennifer would be there.

“… that would be amazing, Emily. If we were
farmers
,” a voice floated out of the classroom. It was Brie. Max stopped and peered through the open door. Brie was perched on top of Mr. Kemp’s desk, one patent Louboutin hanging from a manicured toe as she swung a very tan leg back and forth. “Anyone else have any ideas? Correction: Any ideas that aren’t totally
useless
?”

“What if we did organ-shaped cotton candy?” Magnus asked, staring straight at Mavis Moore.

“Ooh, or cheesecakes on—” Jen began.

Brie held up a warning palm. “Raise your hand,” she said. “Respect the process.”

Oh, hell, no
, Max thought from her spot in the hallway, and bolted swiftly toward the exit. She’d much rather risk her mother’s wrath than suffer through an hour of Baby Brooke.

Just as she got to the huge double doors at the front of the school, Max heard footsteps on the marble floor behind her. It was Jake, his popped pink polo collar bouncing in step with his feet.

“Wait up, Max,” he called. “We should talk.”

Awesome. First I ruin his Saturday, then he ruins my avoidance plan.

“Okay,” she said unenthusiastically. Jake pushed open the doors and led her to one of the stone benches near the front of the school. On the quad, two freshman boys were
tossing around a Frisbee. Never before had Max wished she were part of a Frisbee game rather than doing what she was actually doing.

“So,” Jake began as they sat.

“I’m sorry,” Max blurted.

Jake just looked at her for a long moment. Max tensed up and winced slightly, anticipating some kind of verbal slap. Instead, he said, “How long have you been into that guy?”

She blew out her cheeks. “What?”

“Bo Brady, or whatever his name was.”

Max was confused. “Wait, aren’t you going to yell at me?”

“That depends,” Jake said. “Were you just using me to make him jealous?”

“No,” Max said, but she could hear the lack of conviction in her own voice. “Maybe? I’m not sure.”

Jake stared into the middle distance, as if something inspiring was happening in the parking lot—which was true, if you counted the two sophomores loosening the lug nuts on Shelby Kendall’s tires. Which Max did. So would Brooke. Max made a mental note to tell her, then revised it to read,
Tell Molly to tell Brooke.

“Did you
ever
like me?” Jake finally asked.

His face was so melancholy that Max burst out laughing. “Jake, you have
no idea
,” she said. He crossed his arms and slumped against the back of the bench, irritated. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I’m not making fun of you. It’s just that… Seriously, I had a crush on you
for years.
Years.
And so
of course
the first time you notice me back, it turns out to be too late.”

“
Is
it too late?” he asked sadly. “I really liked you. I still do. You make me laugh, and you never once waved your finger in my face. I thought things were going okay, you know?”

Max patted his hand awkwardly. “I really liked you, too, and I still do,” she said. “Just as a friend, though, it turns out.”

Jake looked disappointed. “I could tell,” he said. “You seemed kind of tense with me, but when you were talking to Tom Brady, or whatever, you seemed so relaxed and kind of…” He searched for a word.
“Happy.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not an issue. I just think our timing was off,” she said. “Besides, he’s an actor, and I’m… me. It’s totally platonic. I might as well be one of his guy friends.”

Jake snorted. “That’s not what I saw.”

“You saw wrong,” Max said firmly, even as her heart did a quick cartwheel. “He’s dating Brooke. They were making out. It’s…” She gulped. “It’s why I ran off. Jake, I promise, I didn’t know he was that important to me until I saw her all over him. I didn’t know what to do.”

“If he’s actually into Brooke instead of you, then he’s an idiot, and you are way out of his league,” Jake said passionately. “Not that Brooke isn’t great and all, but dude, I’m a
dude
. And if even a dude like me can see that you two kinda had something, then he’s stupid for not seeing it himself. Because it’s totally how I wanted it to be with us.”