I didn’t like that one bit, but I refrained from asking him how.
After Cal walked away, Lucy turned to me, a look of betrayal on her face.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“What do you mean?” I asked, playing dumb.
“I said to stay away from him.”
“Why?”
Lucy shifted in her seat. She was irate.
“Why, Lucy?”
She ignored me when the teacher walked in.
“Why?” I persisted.
She covered her ears with her hands. Seriously?
I was going to make her tell me. If I had to go bowling, and go out to eat, and go to the movies, and make out with the son-of-a-bitch right in front of her, I was going to make her tell me.
***
Tara proved much more difficult to find than Melissa. For a full week I didn’t see her anywhere and feared she no longer went to Charity Run. I actually attended another football game, thinking I’d spot her tumbling down the field in a cheerleading uniform. After all, she was a cheerleader last year according to the picture I saw in the yearbook. But no such luck. I didn’t see her on the field and promptly left before the end of the first quarter.
I did spot her late Friday afternoon strolling the junior hall dressed in black, sporting black hair, black lips, and black Dr. Martens. Suddenly it was 1994 and I didn’t get the memo. What the hell? Last year, this girl had strawberry-blond hair, wore a cheerleading uniform, and sported glossy pink lips. I immediately feared the worst. No one changes personas so drastically unless something awful happened to them. It took me a minute to remember she was on Tim’s team.
How on earth would I be able to talk to her? I didn’t come across as the type of girl she’d be friends with, let alone speak to. It would have to be another accident like Melissa’s, but I knew I couldn’t go running my mouth about a boyfriend who’s pressuring me to have sex. It just wouldn’t work with her. I’d probably have to spy on her, but how? I was no detective. I wouldn’t know where to start, and I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for.
I surreptitiously watched her at her locker. She was alone changing out her books, and suddenly I had an idea.
I walked up to her and introduced myself.
“Hi, I’m Brooke,” I said, extending my hand.
She looked at my face and then my hand and then my face again.
“I’m on the school paper, and I wanted to know if I could interview you about the cafeteria food.” So incredibly lame.
“Are you kidding me?” she asked.
“I know. It’s totally stupid, but I’m new here, so I get assigned the stupid stories,” I said, chuckling.
“Just don’t do it,” she offered.
“Oh,” I replied. “I guess I never thought about that. But then my grade would be affected.”
“Who cares?”
Okay. This one wouldn’t be easy at all.
“Well, I do,” I said. “I want to make good grades.”
She looked me up and down. “Yeah, you look like one of those.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a goody-goody.” She started walking down the hall, and I followed after.
“I am?” I asked.
For a second I forgot about my mission. I was intrigued. Was I a goody-goody? Tara thought so, and she didn’t know me from Adam’s housecat. I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. After all, I’d been working my ass off for months trying to come across that way. Maybe that’s why I was given a “Good Girl” ranking by the Fantasy Slut League. They didn’t have to spy on me. It was blatantly obvious my sexual status. Virginal. Sweet. Naïve.
I swelled like a damn peacock.
“Yeah,” she snorted. “Just don’t let the wrong people know how good you are.”
Cryptic. Snarky. This girl was a bitch.
“What do you mean?” I asked, but I already knew.
She stopped cold and whirled around to face me. I nearly ran into her.
“People take advantage of good people. That’s what I mean. So don’t be a sucker.”
“Did someone take advantage of you?” I blurted.
“Fuck you,” she spat, and headed down the hall once more.
Well, that was settled. Someone did a number on her. But I couldn’t move Tim into the “Rapists” pile just yet. I’d have to do more digging.
Thirteen
I needed a Ryan fix before my date with Cal. I felt so guilty about going, and I had a lot of nerve thinking Ryan wouldn’t find out, but Cal didn’t strike me as the type of guy who went around bragging about his dates. At least not in a loud, obnoxious way. Maybe he told his close friends, but I suspected that was only if he got a sexual perk out of the girls. Plus, Ryan and I hadn’t established anything yet. We weren’t technically dating, so I could always say that I wasn’t sure what was going on between us.
Dad was working late Friday night. He called me to let me know, and as soon as I got off the phone with him, I called Ryan to invite him over. He was at my door in fifteen minutes.
“Would have been here sooner, but you caught me in the middle of homework,” he said.