This Is So Not Happening (29 page)

And then there was Jake. Always talking to some new girl, always smiling at some adorable face, always messing around with his friends. It was like he didn’t miss me one bit. It was like I’d never even existed.

The thing was, nothing in my world seemed to matter. Not my mom’s wedding, not the upcoming prom, not graduation. Everything seemed so dull. So ordinary. I couldn’t look forward to any of it.

“I think I’m depressed,” I said while rain pelted the windows of the cafeteria. I’d been sitting quietly at our lunch table for ten minutes, not eating, not reading, just dipping my straw in and out of my soda can.

David, Annie, and Marshall looked up, surprised, like until that moment they’d thought I’d lost the power of speech.

“Well, yeah,” Annie said, pushing her laptop aside.

“What? You think so too?” I asked, sitting up straight.

“Let’s see. You walk around school like a zombie, you never talk to anyone, and no one’s seen you eat a non-carb in a month,” Marshall said, glancing at my tray full of mashed potatoes and gravy. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“Agreed,” David said, popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

“Also, Sarah Dessen has obviously replaced me as your best friend, which is just not healthy,” Annie added, shaking her head.

“Good to know I’m so transparent,” I said, miffed.

“You want to spill?” Annie asked, leaning into the table. “Because we already have, like, five good plans to snap you out of it.”

Marshall and David nodded in this sort of disturbingly eager way. Suddenly my face began to burn.

“You guys have been
talking
about me?” I asked.

Their gaze darted this way and that. At least they had the decency to look guilty about it.

“Cookie?” David offered, opening the Famous Amos bag toward me.

I narrowed my eyes at him and took one.

“Okay, plan number one, the sugar high,” Annie said, holding up a pinkie. “We go into the city and snag passes to the Candy Expo, pretend we’re up and coming confectioners, and just go to town sampling everything. Plan number two, shopping spree, on Gray, in his car, on Fifth Avenue. Plan number three, the kidnap plot. We snag Jake Graydon out of the locker room after lacrosse practice and—”

“Hi, guys!” Faith dropped into an empty chair at the very
end of our table. She was wearing a frilly pink top, and her blond hair was back in a ponytail that she’d somehow styled into one very long curl down her back. Annie’s mouth snapped shut. Marshall and David shifted warily in their seats, as if an alien had just crash-landed in our midst. “Ally, I have the hugest favor to ask you.”

I blinked. Ever since Jake and I had broken up and Chloe had had the baby and Faith had snagged the lead in the spring musical, we’d barely spoken. Just seeing her right now seemed out of context. Like part of some former life gate-crashing this one.

“What kind of favor?” I asked.

“You have to join prom committee,” she said, lowering her chin, the better to give me a serious stare.

All four of us cracked up laughing.

“Yeah. That was
not
one of our plans,” Annie said, reaching for her lemonade.

“Talk about depressing,” David added.

I took my first bite of food. Eating that Famous Amos had made me hungry. Or maybe it was simply laughing that had made me feel better. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Please?!” Faith begged, grabbing my arm. “Shannen won’t do it and Chloe’s MIA. Without a good Crestie contingent the Norm crazies have taken over!” She glanced around the table at my friends. “No offense.”

“Isn’t it interesting how people only say that when they’ve already caused offense?” Annie said.

Faith scrunched her nose at Annie, who stuck her tongue out in response. I sighed and pushed my potatoes around on my plate. It had been almost a month since Chloe had given birth and she hadn’t returned any of my calls. Hadn’t returned
anyone’s
calls. Shannen’s mom had told her that Chloe’s parents had hired a district-approved tutor so Chloe could finish the year out as a home-schoolee. As far as Orchard Hill High was concerned, she’d pretty much dropped off the face of the Earth.

But not entirely. Because people were still gossiping about her. Still telling bad jokes. Still making up stories. And every time I overheard something, I got even more depressed. This was Chloe Appleby. She was supposed to be living up her senior year, running the prom, planning a huge graduation party, walking at the front of the class as valedictorian. But instead she’d become one big joke.

“Anyway, please do it?” Faith begged. “It’ll help you take your mind off things! Maybe it’ll even knock you out of this weirdo daze you’ve been in.”

My jaw dropped and Marshall hid a laugh behind a cough—very badly. Even Faith had noticed?

“Honestly, someone
has
to help me or I’m not gonna have the votes to kill this insane idea they have for the theme.” Faith sat back in her chair and crossed her slim arms over her chest.

“What insane idea?” I asked.

She lifted her hands wide. “A Postapocalyptic Prom!”

I gagged on my mashed potatoes.

“Sweet!” David squeaked.

“Yeah. Very romantic,” Faith said sarcastically. “They want the backdrop for prom pictures to be one of those nuclear bomb mushroom-cloud things,” she said, shuddering dramatically. “So. Will you help?”

“You just convinced me,” I said.

Not that I thought I was going to be having my prom picture
taken, considering the fact that I was dateless, uninterested, and uninspired. But that didn’t mean I shouldn’t help the rest of the senior class avoid having their memories look like something out of the
Hunger Games
movie. And maybe Faith was right. Maybe this would help knock me out of my daze. Something had to. If everyone was noticing it and talking about it, it must have gotten pretty bad. I tugged out my phone and opened it up to the calendar.

“When’s the next meeting?”

Faith squealed and clapped her hands, bouncing around in her seat. “Omigod! Yay! You are so
not
going to regret this. Throwing yourself into a new project is always the best therapy. Right?”

She looked to the table for confirmation. David shrugged and ate a cookie. Marshall shrugged and ate a chip.

“Just for the record? I liked the kidnapping Jake idea,” Annie said, lifting her pudding spoon.

Faith shot her a wary look as I typed into my phone. As if on cue, Jake’s laugh rose up from a table two rows away, and when I looked over, some sophomore with too much cleavage was gazing up at him like he was a god.

“You know what?” I said, glancing over at Annie as I hit save. “Let’s go back to the shopping-spree plan. That definitely sounded like something I could get behind.”

This was my last chance. My last shot at an athletic scholarship. I’d been wait-listed at Rutgers, Ramapo, and William
Patterson, and almost everywhere else had flat-out rejected me. The Richmond lacrosse coach was holding on to my application because he hadn’t finished recruiting yet, just like Rutgers, and both schools had sent scouts out to see me today. I had to show them my skills. I knew this. I knew my life basically hung in the balance.

I just couldn’t seem to actually care.

On autopilot, I ran upfield at a sprint, grunting as my legs pumped beneath me. The sun was warm on my face. I could feel the dirt under my fingernails. Sweat prickled my skin and slipped down my back. In the stands, Shannen and Hammond and even Quinn screamed my name. My brother shouted with the rest of JV. This was actually happening. I was actually here. It just didn’t exactly feel like I was.

Connor passed me the ball and I made a clean catch. That was when I saw Ted Langer barreling down on me. First team all-state last year. Bigger than the biggest guy on our football team. His tree-trunk of a forearm was gunning for my chest. If I didn’t move, I was pancake.

I glanced at the scouts. The one from Rutgers had his hand over his mouth, like he was already imagining my gruesome death.

Fuck that. I still had some pride somewhere in me.

I juked left and spun right. Langer threw himself at me and caught air. Shannen screeched so loud I felt it in my spine. I half tripped, half lunged toward the goal and hurled the ball. Saw the net punch out. Heard the whistle.

“Score!” Connor shouted, racing toward me. He almost tackled me to the ground, but I managed to stay on my feet.

The whole team was grinning and slapping me on the back.
I’d basically just won us the game and I couldn’t even put on a smile. I ducked my head and jogged back upfield. Saw the scouts making notes on their clipboards. Saw this girl Lucy I’d been stalked by for the last two weeks jumping up and down with that look on her face. Like I could go over there right now and tear her clothes off and that would be fine by her. She’d been dropping hints about the prom for the past two days, and everyone was telling me to ask her. She’d look hot in a prom dress, and she was more than willing to do whatever I wanted after. Score and score. Just like my life was supposed to be. Just like it was before Chloe, before Ally. I was back to being what everyone expected me to be.

But Ally wasn’t there. She wasn’t there and I couldn’t smile.

It was amazing, really. Amazing how everything could look so perfect and normal, when everything was so very not.

Someone was going to get strangled with a roll of black tulle. I wasn’t sure whether it was going to be my mom, who’d gone into full-time bride mode; Faith, who had somehow gotten the prom theme changed from Postapocalypse to the equally cheesy, though far less dark, Springtime in Paris; or Quinn, who had convinced my mother that we should both wear pillbox hats with our bridesmaids dresses. Apparently they’d started studying the Kennedy years in her history class and now she was obsessed with Jackie O. Why that meant I needed an old lady hat and a veil in my wardrobe I had no idea, but my mother had decided it was just retro-funky enough for
her tastes, and now I had an actual hatbox in my closet.

Sigh.

So when my mother dropped off forty bags of custom M&M’s in my room and told me it was my job to fill hundreds of tiny boxes with them and tie them with bows and tags for favors, you can imagine what I wanted to tell her to do with them. I mean, she didn’t even say “please,” which was basically the number one lesson she’d drilled into my brain my entire childhood. But instead of pointing out this hypocrisy, I took a deep breath and allowed her to leave my room unharmed. She was, after all, my mother. And I had basically no speech prepared for her wedding, since I’d thrown out my two-thousand-five-hundredth version yesterday. As maids of honor went, I was already turning out to be a huge disappointment.

I leaned back on my throw pillows and sighed, staring at the cardboard crates full of yellow and white ribbons, waxy plastic boxes, and bags of candy. This was going to take me hours. Why couldn’t my mother have just gone high-end and ordered Godiva boxes instead of trying to be cute? Maybe I should ask Quinn to help. She was very into this bridesmaid thing. But that would mean spending hours alone with the princess of pep herself, and I was just not in the mood. I needed to call in reinforcements. Someone who wouldn’t happily chat my ear off. Someone on my wavelength.

I sat up straight. I knew exactly who to call.

Twenty minutes later, Chloe and I were sitting on her bed, facing each other over a pile of plastic boxes, quietly munching on yellow and white M&M’s that read
MELANIE & GRAY
and
TRUE LOVE
and attempting to tie the slippery silk ribbons.

“Thanks for doing this,” I said. “I would have lost it if I had to do this by myself.”

“No problem.” Chloe added a box to the “done” pile. “I do tie a kick-ass bow.”

“It’s always been one of your special talents,” I replied with a smirk.

Chloe reached for another box and held it between her thumb and forefinger. She looked better than I had expected. Her baby weight was almost gone and she wore the tiniest bit of mascara and lip gloss. Her room was another story, though. It looked like she hadn’t left it in weeks. Her laptop was open on her desk, surrounded by teetering piles of books and papers, and a line of empty water bottles. The garbage can was full of college brochures, and the chair by the deck was covered in a mound of rumpled designer clothes. Workout DVDs were strewn on the floor in front of her TV, and an exercise ball, mat, weights, kettleball, and running shoes were tossed in the corner near her closet.

So at least she was working out. Depressed people don’t work out. Right?

“So, I have news,” she said suddenly, starting to fill the next box.

“Yeah?” I tied a ribbon, badly, and tossed the box in the done pile. Chloe fished it right out and started to retie it. “What’s up?”

“I got into Brown,” Chloe informed me.

“Omigod! Really?” My eyes widened. “That’s your dream school!”

“I know.” Chloe’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I actually got the letter back in March, but I wasn’t really opening mail then. I got into Duke, too. And Dartmouth.”

“Chloe! That’s unbelievable!” I said. I leaned over all the crap between us to give her a half hug. “You must be so excited.”

Even though she didn’t look it.

“Yeah,” she said, lifting her shoulders and letting them drop. “I guess life really does go on.”

She tossed my now perfectly bowed box in the done pile and sighed. My heart felt heavy against my ribs. This was just not right. When someone worked their ass off as hard as Chloe had her whole life, she should be able to enjoy getting into all these amazing schools. But instead, she looked like she’d been rejected ten times over.

“Chloe,” I said, ripping open a new bag of M&M’s. “You have to come back to school.”

She chuckled and shook some M&M’s into a box. “Why?”

“Because … you have to,” I said lamely. “What are you getting out of locking yourself up in here twenty-four-seven? You should be hanging out with us, planning the prom, going to graduation practice. You’re missing out on the best part of senior year.”