I avoided the girls at dismissal—instead going from teacher to teacher to collect makeup work. They’d left by the time I finished, gone home to get ready for the night’s game. I stopped by my locker, then hurried to Ryan, who was waiting by the front doors.
In his car, he leaned in for a kiss—then froze.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. Ryan’s eyes were panning my face with anxious sweeps.
“Do I have another bloody nose?” I flipped down his visor—no blood.
“That necklace you always wear, did you take it off?”
“Of course not.” My hand went to my throat—it was naked. I continued searching my collar like it’d reappear. I gulped air, tried not to cry.
“I’ll find it.” His voice calmed into determination. “I’ll take you home. You search your room. I’ll come back and look.”
I felt vulnerable without the weight of the charm against my neck: exposed and unprotected. And the necklace wasn’t in my room, or the kitchen, or my bathroom. Dad checked the shower and sink drains. Mom went through the vacuum bags and searched my car. Ryan called to report he’d had no luck at the school—but he’d alerted the janitors and principal and left notes for all my teachers.
“Don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll find it. I’m going to check my car and then the hospital. I’ll meet you at the game.”
I didn’t want to go to the game anymore; I wanted to hide in bed until my necklace was found. Instead I called Hil for a ride so we’d have a chance to talk. I needed to fix us without telling her why we were broken.
“I like your new highlights,” I said as I got in the car.
“Thanks.” She turned on the radio.
I turned it off. “Lauren says one of the freshmen is becoming a great tumbler.”
“Monica. You were better, but she’ll do.” Hil swore at a slow car in front of her and drummed sparkly nails on the steering wheel.
“Anything else new? I feel so out of it after missing all that school.” I was embarrassed to be asking; I should know.
“Not really.”
Maybe the direct route was best. “Are you mad at me?”
“No.” The slow car turned into a driveway and Hillary accelerated with a jerk.
“Sorry I’ve missed so much practice.”
“Whatever. It has nothing to do with that.”
“Then what? Because of Ryan?” I instinctively grasped the empty air at my neck.
“What, you mean how you’re supposedly not dating him, yet he’s been your spokesperson for the past two weeks?”
“He has not.”
“Really? He and Lauren are the only ones you bother to talk to anymore. Explain why I should tell you anything when you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on?” She glowered at the yellow lines blurring ahead of us.
“I’m here now. Hil?”
“Forget it.” She sucked in a breath and asked, “So, are your parents splitting up?”
“What? My parents? No. Why?”
“I thought—the whole Connecticut thing? My parents sent me away when they tried a last-ditch effort to fix their crap marriage.” She sniffed once, her voice raw. “I thought maybe your parents—you’ve been totally non-Mia since you got back.”
“No. They’re fine.”
“Oh. Forget I said anything.”
“I’d tell you—if my parents were divorcing. I’d tell you that.” That would be easy.
“Would you? You know Ally has all these theories about what’s going on with you. Mia’s depressed, Mia’s anorexic, Mia’s in rehab, Mia’s got mono.”
I tried to laugh but it came out mangled and fake. “Ally’s so dramatic.” Though mono would’ve been a great cover and part of me wished I’d thought of it.
“Is she? Where’ve you been? I stopped by your house more than once and there was never anyone home. Once I ran into Mac ’n’ Cheese—he was coming out your front door and said he was feeding Jinx. Why did Gyver have to feed your cat if you were home sick?”
“You must be spending too much time with Ally—now you’re being a drama queen too.” I sounded like my mom—pacifying, belittling.
Hil flinched. “I’m worried about you. Don’t you get it?”
I stared out the window and directed my lie to the row of mailboxes. “I’m fine.”
Hil sighed. “Never mind. After the game we’ll go to Lauren’s party—thank God her parents are away. We’ll talk there, okay? You can tell me how Winters is wonderful and I’ll try to believe it.” She gave me her pretty and persuasive smile and I wanted to nod, but I couldn’t. “You are going, right? It’s at Lauren’s. You know, your new best friend’s house? Wait … let me guess; you’re busy with Ryan?” Her voice was acid and ice.
“You’re still—” The rest of that sentence, “my best friend,” felt awkward and forced. “I can’t go, but he can if he wants.”
“But he won’t. He’s like a puppy.” She relented. “Please, Mia.”
“Sorry.”
“You two are so lame. He used to be hot and you used to be fun. He’s just a guy. It’s not worth it!” She pulled into the parking lot behind the field house.
“Is this the part where you explain to me how it’s so different than what you and Keith did for a year and a half? You’re such a hypocrite!” I snapped.