This Is So Not Happening (26 page)

“I hope not, Jake,” Ally said, shaking her head. “That would just be sad.”

Then she got in her car and drove away.

“Welcome to Guys Suck Day!”

Standing in the open doorway at the front of her house, Annie wore a red, satin, strapless dress with a poofy skirt that I couldn’t believe she owned, and a four-strand rhinestone necklace that covered half her chest. Two minutes ago, I’d felt droopy, tired, and heartbroken, wondering what Jake had had planned for us tonight—if he actually had planned anything. Now I was simply stunned. Annie looked me up and down and her grin went south.

“You didn’t dress up!” she whined, closing the door as I stepped inside.

“I thought you were kidding,” I replied. I shook off my coat and hung it on the overloaded hooks near the door, covering up someone else’s leather jacket. I paused. Wait a sec. That jacket looked familiar.

“Surprise!”

Hand over my heart, I faced the kitchen, where Shannen, Faith, and Chloe were all gathered around the table, filling bowls with snacks. Shannen wore a dark green minidress with a black lace overlay, Faith was sporting a floor-length pink gown, and Chloe had donned her silver maternity dress from Christmas. I froze.

“Um, Annie, are you aware that there are three Cresties in your house?” I said under my breath.

“I’m aware. The things I do for my best friend,” Annie said. Then she leaned toward my ear. “I already booked a HazMat team to come delouse the place tomorrow.”

I laughed, but I was touched. Annie had allowed her three most hated enemies into her house just to cheer me up. Either she was the best best friend ever, or I was in a sorrier state than even I thought.

“Ally!” Faith walked over and threw her arms around me. She had on so much perfume that my mouth filled with the sour, flowery taste of it. “Ohhhhh! It sucks to break up right before Valentine’s!”

“Hey!” Annie smacked the back of Faith’s head. Hard. “We don’t say the
V
-word on Guys Suck Day, remember?”

“Ow! God! Sorry!” Faith said, rubbing her scalp.

“So what
do
we do on Guys Suck Day?” I asked, joining the others at the table.

Trying to get into the spirit, I took a handful of M&M’s and started to munch on them. But even chocolate couldn’t chase away the gray cloud that had settled all around me ever since I’d driven away from Jake’s house three nights ago. For the last time. My heart clenched every time I thought about it—the look on his face, the effort it took not to turn around. But I knew I was doing the right thing. Jake was no good for me anymore. He wasn’t even good for himself. I just wished I could get my heart to believe it.

“We watch girl-power movies,” Chloe said, fanning out a selection on the table, including
Soul Surfer
,
Bridesmaids
,
John Tucker Must Die
, and
Whip It
.

“Cool,” I said, nodding.

“Eat tons of junk food and drink tons of wine,” Shannen said, producing a bottle from behind her back.

“And, if we get drunk enough, we call all the boys we hate and tell them to suck it,” Annie said, grabbing the wine and pouring herself a glass.

My stomach turned over at the thought of drunk-dialing Jake and making an ass out of myself. “Let’s not get drunk enough,” I said, taking the bottle and setting it aside.

“Buzz kill,” Annie muttered as she started gathering up some of the bowls of junk food. The rest of us helped and we all headed into the living room.

“Where are your parents, anyway?” I asked.

“Not here,” Annie replied.

“There’s also dancing, apparently,” Chloe said over her shoulder as she sat down on the larger of the two mustard-colored couches. She dropped the movies onto the coffee table and leaned back, arms around her belly. “But after what happened at my birthday I think I’ll sit that part out.”

“Oh, no!” Faith said. “There’s no sitting anything out on Guys Suck Day!”

She walked over to a cabinet on the far wall, opened it, and clicked on the stereo. A pounding dance beat filled the room, and Faith started to dance, kicking aside the throw pillows on the floor to make room. It was odd, watching her act so at-home in Annie’s house. I still couldn’t believe the two of them were actually ever best friends.

“Let’s go, Chloe. On your feet.” Faith took both Chloe’s hands and hauled her off the couch, almost tipping them both over from the effort.

“All right, all right!” Chloe said. She stepped from side to side carefully, and when Faith spun her around, she cracked a smile. “Hello? If I have to dance, you have to dance!” she shouted, pulling me into their circle.

“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Annie whipped out her Flip to tape us, and I found myself giggling nervously. As soon as the camera went on, Faith started hamming it up, rolling her shoulder back and kissy-facing the lens. Then Shannen joined us, half dancing, half posing for the camera.

Hmm. Perhaps Annie hadn’t invited them here for me, but so that she could film them doing embarrassing stuff she could use against them later.

“Oh, yeah! Work it, ladies! Work it!” Annie directed, climbing up on the couch to get an aerial view. Chloe and I cracked up laughing, more than happy to fade into the background as Faith and Shannen jockeyed for camera position.

“So where’s Will tonight?” I asked.

“He wanted to do something, but I said cheering you up was more important,” Chloe told me, tucking her brown hair behind her ears.

“Chloe! You didn’t have to do that!” I said.

“Whatever. We’ll go out for dinner tomorrow night,” Chloe said, lifting a shoulder. She reached around me for some chips and almost got her arm knocked off as Shannen attempted a twirl. “My dad says all the restaurants rob you blind on V-day anyway.”

Like Chloe had any sort of problems with money. But I guess Will was conscious of that stuff.

“Make love to the camera, girls. Make
love
!” Annie wheedled.

“Shannen! Get out of my dance space!” Faith whined, shoving Shannen aside.

“Don’t make me show them your bad side,” Shannen shot back.

Faith squealed and ducked her head as Shannen chased her around the room, Annie in hot and gleeful pursuit.

“This is actually kind of fun,” I commented, stuffing some more M&M’s in my mouth.

“Yeah. I’m not even thinking about all the things I don’t want to be thinking about,” Chloe replied as Shannen jostled her aside, trying to cut Faith off.

“Me neither,” I added.

Then we both just stopped. Because saying we weren’t thinking made us both start thinking.

“Let’s make Annie dance!” I suggested.

“Most definitely,” Chloe agreed.

We turned and grabbed Annie by the wrists, tugging her onto the makeshift dance floor as she screamed in protest. The rest of us made a circle around her, and Annie threw her hands up in surrender, probably experiencing her worst nightmare as the gooey center of a Crestie doughnut. I wrestled the camera away and turned it on her.

“Hey! This was your idea, remember?” I said with a laugh. “Dance, Goth Girl! Dance!”

“Okay, but you guys are so not prepared for the ferocity of my moves,” Annie said. And then she launched into a full-on lawn-sprinkler the likes of which I’ve never seen. Shannen tried to mimic it, badly, and before long all five of us were doubled over laughing, gasping for breath, and best of all, not thinking.

“You girls look so beautiful!”

My mother took a step back to admire as Quinn and I stared at our reflections in the wall of mirrors in front of us. I had to say, for bridesmaids’ dresses, these were not half-bad. My mother had chosen basic, black, satin, strapless, tea-length dresses with a slim waist and an A-line skirt. There was no lace, no sequins, no tulle. Quinn looked pretty and slim, and I looked tall and sophisticated. It was a win-win.

“Are you sure you want black?” Quinn asked, turning to the side. “It’s kind of depressing for a wedding.”

“I’m going to brighten them up with some funky jewelry and maybe have you wear jewel-toned shoes,” my mother explained, reaching over to fluff my skirt.

Quinn frowned thoughtfully. “That could work.”

“Of course it’s gonna work,” I said, kind of nastily, I’ll admit. “It’s her wedding day. Anything she says will work.”

My mother shot me an admonishing look as Quinn raised her hands. “Okay, okay. Sor-
ree
!”

Quinn walked over to a pink velvet chair in the corner, sat down, and pulled out her phone. Probably texting someone about what an ass her soon-to-be stepsister was. Maybe even Hammond. In a disturbing new and somehow incestuous-feeling twist, the two of them were now officially a couple. He’d sent her two dozen red carnations in the Valentine’s Day flower sale fund-raiser, and she’d spent the rest of the day telling everyone who would listen that she now had a senior
boyfriend. Last night I’d caught them making out on the couch in the living room and I’d almost lost my dinner.

“Honey?” my mom asked, smoothing my hair. “Are you okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I asked, heading to another pink chair on the opposite side of the huge dressing room. When I dropped down, the skirt poofed up against the armrests like a black cloud. Classical violin music played through the speakers overhead, and the whole room smelled of lilacs and roses. I wondered if the people who worked here ever felt like they were going to OD on romance. “I’m fine, okay?
I
broke up with
him
. And it was, like, a month ago already.”

Actually, it had been three weeks and one day. A torturous three weeks and one day. Three weeks and a day of Jake walking past me in the halls without so much as a glance. Of watching him flirt with every underclassman blessed with two X chromosomes. A month of second-guessing myself, of thinking he looked happier without me, of wondering if I had somehow been the problem. So no, I was not okay. But it had been long enough that I felt like I
should
have been by now, so I kept pretending I was.

“I have an idea,” my mother said, perching on a stool next to the chair. “How about tonight you and I go out to dinner? Just the two of us?”

“Really?” I said, brightening slightly.

“Yeah. You pick the restaurant. Anywhere you want.”

I smiled. I knew she was busy with work and wedding planning and everything, so the offer meant a lot.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Aw, sweetie.” She kissed my temple and gave me a quick squeeze. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You’ll see.”

My phone rang, and the seamstress returned to the dressing room with her clipboard. My mom got up and I grabbed my phone to answer it. Annie’s tongue stuck out at me from the screen.

“Hey,” I said, smoothing my skirt out. “What’s up?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Annie said.

My already-tentative smile died. I sat up straight. “What?”

“The Evites to Jake’s birthday party just went out,” Annie said grimly. “He invited every single person in the entire senior class and half the juniors. I even got one.”

I swallowed hard. “Everyone except me.”

“Everyone except you, Chloe, and Will.”

I drooped back in my chair and stared. I didn’t even know what to feel. For the millionth time in the past month, my vision blurred. I picked at a string sticking out of the cushioned part of the armrest as the store’s soundtrack flipped to the classic wedding march.

“I guess I’m not surprised.”

“He sucks, Ally. I’m going to form a protest. I’ll get every Norm in town to stay home.”

I snorted a laugh. “Like I’d do that to you.”

This party was like a jackpot for Annie. Usually she had to sneak into Crestie parties to do her anthropological research. Now she was actually invited. Besides, keeping the Norms home wouldn’t exactly hurt Jake. All of his close friends were Cresties. In fact, with the way his brain had been working lately, I had to wonder if he’d only invited the Norms to make me, Chloe, and Will feel even more left out.

As the music swelled to its crescendo overhead, I couldn’t help remembering Jake’s birthday last year. When he’d gotten his car and the first thing he’d done was zip right over to the Orchard View Condominiums to see me and we’d driven up to the country club and we’d kissed. For the first time.

“You know you did the right thing breaking up with him, right?” Annie said. “The strong thing.”

“Yeah.” My voice was thick. “I know.”

“Are you okay?” Annie asked.

“Ugh. I wish people would stop asking me that,” I replied, swiping one tear off my bottom lashes. Mercifully, the wedding march had ended, and my mom started motioning to me to wrap it up. “I’m fine. Thanks for letting me know, Annie, but I’ve gotta go. We’re doing final measurements.”

“Cool. Well, have fun.”

“I will,” I said.

I hung up the phone and forced a smile onto my face as my mother and the seamstress approached with their measuring tape and pins. For the next fifteen minutes I was turned and poked and prodded and appraised, the whole time just trying as hard as I could not to burst into tears.

My party was the party that kicked every other party’s ass. As I did a lap around the game room, I actually started to think that every single person I had invited had shown up. At least it seemed like it. There were dozens of people gathered around the pool table, faces I barely recognized hunched over the
pinball machines, and the Idiot Twins had drawn a crowd at Ping-Pong, jumping and flailing and hitting backhands like they were on the court at the US Open or something. The music was loud, the beer was flowing, and everyone was having a kick-ass time. I was on top of the world.