Boring Girls

“No.”


“But you’re to come straight back,” Dad said. “I don’t like the idea of you being out on the highway late at night. It’s a long way.”

“We’ll come right home,” I said. “You don’t have to wait up.”

“We probably will anyhow,” Mom said. “I want you to promise us to be very careful.”

“No alcohol,” Dad insisted.

“Don’t worry. None of us are old enough to buy drinks anyway,” I said.

“I know all about false ID cards,” Dad said. “I know how easily obtained they are. And I’m sure you know how dangerous drinking and driving is.”

“Oh, Dad! No one’s drinking and driving. We just want to watch the band!”

I felt nervous and excited. I couldn’t wait for Fern to get here and to meet her friends. Mom had made some soup and sandwiches, but I was too fidgety to eat anything. Besides, I didn’t want to ruin my makeup. Finally I had some soup at her insistence.

“You know,” Mom said, watching me eat, “I was always taught that if you’re going to do dramatic eye makeup, you should do a subdued lip, and vice versa. If you do heavy eyeliner and dark lipstick, it’s a bit . . . overwhelming.”

“Maybe I like overwhelming.”

“The band is called Surgical Carnage,” Dad joked. “That sounds a bit overwhelming. She’ll fit right in.”

We heard a car pull up outside. Mom peered out the kitchen window. “I guess your friends are here.”

I jumped up from the table. “I’ll see you guys later!”

“Rachel,” my father said, “be careful. St. Charles is a big city. Stay together and keep your eyes open. Don’t get into any trouble.”

“Oh, Ken — you should see the boy who is driving,” Mom croaked, peering out the window.

“And remember — straight home afterwards.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll be careful. See you later.” I pulled open the kitchen door.

I tried not to skip as I walked down the driveway. The car was parked at the curb, and I saw Fern waving frantically at me from the backseat. I waved back, recognizing Yvonne from the party sitting in the passenger side. She smiled at me through the window.

Fern opened the back door for me. “Squeeze on back here with us,” she said, sliding into the middle. Her friend Edgar was on the other side, and he gave me a friendly wave. “You remember Yvonne and Edgar from the other night,” she said. “And this is my friend Craig.”

Craig looked back from the driver’s seat, and my heart sank as I recognized the long hair and blue eyes. It was the Guy.

He recognized me in the same instant, and I watched his eyes narrow. “Hi,” he said coldly. “All right, let’s get going.”


He pulled away from the curb and turned up the music. As we drove off, Fern leaned in close to me so I could hear her over the music. “You look great,” she said.

“So do you.” Fern was wearing a silver slip dress. She’d brushed her hair over to hide the orangey roots. “What band is this?”

“Surgical Carnage,” Fern replied. “To get us in the mood.”

Yvonne turned around in the passenger seat. “Rachel,” she said, “I really like your hair.”

“Thanks.”

“My mom won’t let me dye mine,” she said.

“Your mom’s a bitch, that’s why,” Fern said, and Yvonne reached back to playfully slap her.

“So you’re friends with Josephine?” Edgar asked me.

“Yeah, kinda,” I replied.

“Good ol’ Josephine,” he said, and laughed.

“It’s a shame, really,” Yvonne agreed, and laughed with him.

“Shut up, guys,” Fern ordered.

I had no idea what they were talking about. “What?”

Yvonne looked at me. “Didn’t Josephine tell you why she transferred to Glen Park?” She chewed on her lower lip.

“No.”

Fern slapped Yvonne’s arm. “Shut up, seriously.”

“Hey!” Yvonne smacked her back. “I’m just asking a question.”

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