The Duff: Designated Ugly Fat Friend (16 page)

I opened the folder as she walked away, a little confused about what she’d said. Inside was a paper that I instantly recognized.
Hester’s Escape: An Analysis by Bianca Piper and Wesley Rush
. In the top-left corner, Mrs. Perkins had scribbled our grade in bright red ink. A ninety-eight. An A.

I couldn’t help but beam at the paper. Had it really been only a month and a half since we’d written this in Wesley’s bedroom?
Since the first time we’d slept together? It felt like decades had passed. Millennia even. I looked across the room at him,
and my smile vanished.

He was talking to Louisa Farr. No, not just
talking
. Talking just involves the vibration of vocal cords, and there was way more than that going on. His hand was on her knee.
Her cheeks were getting red. He was giving her his cute, cocky grin.

No!
Repulsive
grin. Since when did I think that display of arrogance was cute? And what was this weird twinge I felt in my stomach?

I looked away as Louisa started to play with her necklace, a definite sign of flirting.

Whore
.

I shook myself, surprised and a little worried. What was wrong with me? Louisa Farr wasn’t a whore. Sure, she was a preppy
cheerleader—cocaptain of the Skinny Squad—but Casey had never had bad things to say about her. The girl was just talking
with a cute guy. We’d all done the same. And it wasn’t as if Wesley was taken or anything. It wasn’t like he was committed
to anyone.

Like me…

Oh God!
I thought, realizing what that twinge in my gut must mean.
Oh God, I’m jealous. I’m seriously fucking jealous! Oh, shit!

I decided I was sick. I had a fever or PMS or something was severely impairing my mental stability, because there was no way
in hell I’d be jealous that a man-whore like Wesley was hitting on someone else. I mean, that was his nature. The world might
have actually stopped spinning if Wesley didn’t flirt with poor, naive girls. Why should I be jealous? That was ridiculous.
So I must be sick. I had to be.

“Are you okay, Bianca?” Jessica asked. She swiveled around in her desk to look at me. “You look p.o.’ed. Are you mad or something?”

“I’m fine.” But my words came out through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” Jessica said. She was just as gullible as my mom. “Listen, Bianca, I really think you should talk to Casey. She’s
kind of upset, and I think you two really need to have a heart-to-heart. Maybe today? After class?”

“Yeah… whatever.” But I wasn’t listening. I was too busy coming up with ways to mutilate Louisa’s perfect little face.

PMS. This was definitely just a bad case of PMS.

I got my ass out of that classroom the second the bell rang. My head would explode if I had to hear Louisa’s girly, oh-I’m-so-happy-you’re-flirting-with-me-Wesley
giggle one more fucking time. So what if she was as thin as my pinkie and had boobs the size of basketballs! I bet she had
an IQ of twenty-seven.

Stop it,
I told myself.
Louisa has never done anything to me. I have no right to think those things about her… even if she might be a moron.

I threw my stuff into my locker and ran toward the cafeteria, eager to escape the school building. I was so focused on not
thinking about my PMS-induced jealousy that I didn’t even see Toby until I skidded to a stop about six inches from him.

“In a hurry?” he asked me.

“Sort of,” I sighed. “Sorry for almost running into you.”

“It’s not a problem.” He nervously played with his glasses. “But do you think you’d mind slowing down the pace? I’d like to
talk to you.”

I wasn’t all that surprised. Toby and I had kind of gotten to be friends over the past couple weeks. We mostly talked in AP
government, but you know, that was a definite improvement. Actually, I’d even become somewhat comfortable around him. While
my heart still fluttered a little when he walked into the room, I no longer worried about losing my voice.

“Sure.” I said. At least it would give me something else to think about for a few minutes.

He smiled and fell into step with me. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked as we reached the cafeteria, where the student body
congregated, waiting for the final bell that would dismiss them for the afternoon.

“Most of the time. Why?”

“Do you remember when I missed school a few weeks ago? The day after Valentine’s Day?”

“Uh-huh. I believe that was the worst day of Mr. Chaucer’s life,” I said. “I thought the guy was going to cry when he realized
no one was there to do most of his job for him.”

Toby laughed—but only a small laugh—and said, “I was skipping school… well, for an interview.” He pulled a large envelope
from the inside of his blazer and whispered, “I applied to Harvard. I just got my letter in the mail this morning.”

“Why is that a secret?”

His cheeks went pink in the cutest possible way. “I don’t want to be humiliated if I don’t get in,” he said.

“You’ll get in.”

“I don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“I wish I had as much confidence in me as you do.”

“Oh, come on, Toby,” I said seriously. “All great politicians—like senators and presidents—go to awesome colleges. You’re
going to be a great politician, so they have to let you in. Besides, you’re one of the smartest kids in the senior class.
You’re valedictorian, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Toby agreed, frowning at his envelope. “But… but it’s
Harvard
.”

“And you’re
Toby
.” I shrugged. “Even if you didn’t get in, there are a million other schools that would kill to have you. That doesn’t matter,
though, because I
know
you got in. Do yourself a favor and open the letter.”

Toby stopped in the middle of the cafeteria and smiled at me. “See,” he said, “this is why I wanted you to be the one with
me when I open it. I knew you’d be—”

I cut him off. “While I’m sure the next few words out of your mouth are going to be incredibly sweet, I’m one hundred percent
aware that you’re stalling. Open the letter, Toby. Even a rejection is better than putting yourself through this hell. You’ll
feel better if you just read it.”

“I know. I—”

“Now.”

He ripped open the envelope, and I realized just how odd this was. He was coming to
me
with this very personal thing. For support. For encouragement. Back in January, I never would have imagined commanding Toby
Tucker to open his acceptance letter. I never would have imagined
speaking
to him, period.

My, oh my, how things can change.

In the best ways possible, of course.

He slid the paper from the torn envelope with shaking fingers and began to read. I watched his eyes scan the page and widen.
Was that joy or heartbreak? Shock, maybe? Surprise that he got in or surprise that he hadn’t?

“Well?”

“I… I was accepted.” Toby dropped the paper and let it float gracefully to the floor. “Bianca, I got in!” He grabbed me
by the shoulders and pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me.

That was something else I never would have expected to happen back in January.

“I told you that you would,” I said, returning the hug.

Over his shoulder, I spotted Casey and Jessica walking across the cafeteria. They were looking at me as they moved through
the crowd of students; they saw me wrapped in Toby’s arms. But for some reason the expressions on their faces didn’t mirror
the happiness I felt. Jessica looked kind of sad, but Casey… well, she looked downright furious.

Why? What was going on with her? With both of them.

Toby squeezed me before letting go and kneeling down to scoop up his fallen letter. “I can’t believe it. My parents will never
believe it.”

I pulled my eyes away from my friends as they vanished behind a group of freshmen and turned my attention back to the beaming
boy in front of me. “If they know you at all, Toby, they’ll totally believe it,” I said. “We’ve all known that you’re destined
for great things for a long time. I mean, I’ve known for years.”

Toby looked surprised. “Years? But we really didn’t start talking until just a few weeks ago.”

“But we’ve had classes together since we were freshmen,” I reminded him. “We didn’t have to talk for me to know you were awesome.”
I grinned and clapped him on the back. “And you just proved me right.” The bell rang, and I turned toward the doors that led
to the student parking lot. “See you later, Toby. Congratulations!”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bianca.”

As I walked to the double doors, I wondered if I’d said too much. Did I give myself away as a semi-stalker? God, I hoped not.
The last thing I wanted was to scare the poor guy away after less than a month of actual human contact. That would really
make me a loser.

I was about to push open the door that led to the student parking lot when a loud “Ahem” caught my attention. I turned around
and saw Casey leaning against the school’s nearly empty trophy case, her arms crossed over her chest. The way her eyes were
narrowed annoyed me right away.

“What?” I asked.

She scowled and let her arms fall heavily to her sides. “Nothing,” she grumbled. “Forget it!”

“Casey, what are you—?”

“Not now, B.” She turned around and started stomping away from me. “I have cheer practice.”

My hands flew automatically to my hips. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I demanded. “You sound like a total bitch.”

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at me. “
I’m
the bitch?
You
ignore
me,
and I’m the bitch? WTF, Bianca!” She shook her head. “Whatever. I’m not having this conversation right now. Not when we were
supposed
to have it ten minutes ago, like you told Jess we would. I guess you were too busy hanging all over that geek to—”

“Criticizing Toby sounds pretty damn bitchy to me, Casey,” I snapped. How dare she! She knew I liked him. She knew that having
him pay any attention to me was a big deal! She knew, and yet
she was bitching at me for it? “You’re acting like a preppy cheerleader snob.”

Her eyes flashed, and for a second it looked like she might pounce on me. I seriously thought I was going to get into an all-out,
hair-pulling, reality-show girl fight with my best friend right in front of the parking lot doors.

But she walked away. Not a word. Not even a sound. She just drifted toward the gymnasium, leaving me pissed and totally confused.

I’d fought with Casey before; it’s bound to happen when you’ve been friends as long as we had. But this argument really unnerved
me, mostly because I didn’t know what her deal was. I stormed across the parking lot, trying to figure out what I could have
done to deserve that drama. Clearly I’d set her off somehow.

And of course things just had to get better and better.

My car wouldn’t start. I tried and tried again, but still got nothing. The battery was completely dead.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming my fist into the steering wheel. This was
not
what I needed. Hadn’t my day been bad enough? Hadn’t my
life
been bad enough? It was like nothing ever went right. “Shit! Damn! Hell! Start, you piece of—”

“Having car problems, Duffy?”

I paused mid-rant to glare at the offending shadow. I opened the door and told Wesley, “My fucking car won’t turn on.” Then
I saw the girl standing next to him.

Skinny. Big boobs. It wasn’t Louisa Farr. This girl was cuter. She had a round, sweet face with curly brown hair that bounced
around her shoulders and large gray eyes. Way prettier than me, of course. Probably some freshman who only had to take one
look at Wesley’s sexy smile and pretty, shiny car before she put out. Again, that twinge of jealousy overpowered me. Just
PMS.

“Would you like me to give you a ride?” he asked.

“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll just call…” But who would I call? Mom was in Tennessee. Dad was at work. Casey had cheer practice.
Not that it mattered. She was pissed at me anyway, and she and Jess both relied on their parents—or me—to drive them around.
Who would come get me?

“Come on, Duffy,” Wesley said, grinning at me. “You know you want to ride with me.” He bent down to look me in the eyes. “What’s
the worst that could happen?”

“That’s okay.” There was no way I was riding in the same car as Wesley and his latest conquest. Nope. Not a chance.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can call someone later. There’s no point staying in the parking lot until dark. I just have to drop
Amy off, and then I can take you home.”

Amy,
I thought.
So that’s the bimbo’s name.

Then something in the back of my mind clicked.

Oh my God! Amy! Amy was his
sister!
I looked at the girl again, wondering how I’d missed it. Curly brown hair, dark gray eyes, very attractive. Duh. The resemblance
was obvious. I was an unbelievable dumbass.

Wesley reached past me and pulled my keys out of the ignition.

“Fine,” I said, feeling significantly better. I snatched back my keys and dropped them into my purse. “Let me get my stuff.”
Once
I had everything I needed, I locked the doors and followed Wesley to his car, which was easy to spot since it was the only
Porsche in the parking lot.

“Now, Duffy,” Wesley said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. I slid into the back so that Amy, who was apparently the quiet
type, could sit with her brother. “This means you’ll actually have to admit that I do nice things for people on occasion.”

“I never said you don’t do nice things,” I told him as I attempted to situate myself in the cramped backseat. God, for being
such fancy cars, Porches had zero legroom. I had to sit sideways with my knees pulled up to my chest. So not comfortable.
“You do. But only when it benefits you in some way.”

Wesley scoffed. “Did you hear that, Amy? Can you believe what she thinks of me?”

“I’m sure Amy knows what you’re like.”

Wesley went silent.

Amy laughed but she seemed kind of nervous.

She didn’t say much during the ride, though Wesley made several attempts to coax her into our conversation. At first I wondered
if maybe it was because of me, but it didn’t take long to figure out that she was just shy. When we pulled into the driveway
of the large, old-fashioned house, which I knew must belong to Wesley’s grandmother, Amy looked into the backseat and said
quietly, “Bye. It was nice to meet you,” before ducking out of the car.