It’s not the greatest story ever, but they seem to believe it.
The whole school is telling its own story, though never to our bruised faces. I’m probably missing a lot of the gossip, but what I hear is plenty: everything from a rumor that Carson got Raychel pregnant to a story that Andrew and I have been in an incestuous three-way with her for years.
The rumor most likely to be true is that the baseball team wants to kick our asses, even though Carson’s fine. He just got a black eye (from Andrew) and some bruised ribs (from the door). It’s hard to know if he deserved it, with Raychel acting like we don’t exist. Monday morning, her mom texted that she was sick and didn’t need a ride. I knew she wasn’t, but I figured Raych would let me know when she felt better.
But today she’s at school, and she’s avoiding me. I don’t know if she’s taking different routes to class or what, but I didn’t see her before second period like usual, and she was nowhere to be found at lunchtime. She came in late to Senior Seminar and left before I could catch her. After school, I wait with Andrew at his car, expecting her to catch a ride with him to work, but instead we see her getting in a small red convertible. “Whose is that?” I ask.
“Keri Sturgis,” he says, like I asked who ate the last cookie.
“Oh. I didn’t know she and Raych were friends.”
“Yeah,” he says, tossing and catching a lighter over and over. “Me neither.”
“Aren’t you and Keri ‘friends’?” I ask, making air quotes.
Andrew snorts. “We’re in the same SAT prep class together.”
“Oh.” I didn’t even know he was in a class. “I thought you hooked up last year.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” He stretches his neck like he’s sore. “What about you and Mindy?”
“There’s no ‘me and Mindy,’” I say, shamefaced. After the fight, I was so focused on Raych that I didn’t even realize I’d left Mindy without a goodbye until I pulled up to school yesterday morning. “I have to see her in a few minutes though.”
“Bummer,” he says, and starts tossing his lighter again.
We watch the convertible get in line to leave. “Have you talked to Raychel yet?”
“Nope.” He catches the lighter.
“Are you going to try?”
Andrew opens his car door. “She knows where to find me.”
He pulls away and I stare, wondering where the hell my goofy little brother has gone.
*
I knew our StuCo subcommittee meeting was going to be hard, but it sure doesn’t help that when I get there, Trenton Alexander Montgomery the Third refuses to call me anything but “Champ” or, occasionally, “Ali.” He keeps trying to hold my hand up like a prizefighter. Mindy walks in at the last minute and keeps her eyes away from my side of the room during the whole meeting. When we start discussing projects, I find out she’s taken on blood drive decorations, leaving me on my own with the catering.
When the meeting’s over, I have no choice but to throw myself on the grenade. “Mindy,” I say, interrupting her and Rosa as they’re leaving. “Can I talk to you?”
She turns as slowly as possible to fix me with a withering glare. “Rosa, I’ll meet you in the car,” she says. Rosa shoots me a hateful glance and I try to look sufficiently contrite. “What do you want?” Mindy demands.
“I just … wanted to say sorry.” My hands are suddenly in my way. I can’t figure out where to put them.
She tucks her hair behind her ears, like she’s getting ready to tackle a big job. “Sorry for what?” she asks, voice overly sweet, even for her.
“Um…” Because it’s uncool to leave a girl in bed while you get in a fight with the guy who’s putting the moves on your crush? Probably not the best phrasing. “For…”
“For leading me on?” she says. “For letting the entire party see me half-naked? Or—”
“All of it,” I say quickly, knowing better than to argue that I made sure she was covered. “Everything. It was just—”
She stops me. “I was there, okay? I remember.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, studying the floor tiles between us. I never realized how truly worthless that sentence can be.
“Listen—I understand, about the party,” she says. “I mean you couldn’t help that Carson came through the door.” His name makes my teeth grind. “I mean, maybe I’m stupid for thinking you could like me more than Raychel, you know? Everybody knows you’ve been hung up on her for years.” My surprise pisses her off. “Seriously, you think it’s not obvious?”
“I…” I have no idea what to say. “You know, we’re friends, so…”
Mindy laughs, mean and sad. “No, you and I were friends. You and Raychel are…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what y’all are.”
“Neither do I,” I admit, running a hand over my head. “But not that.” I look her in the eye. “I wouldn’t have used you like that. Or her.”
“Well, you used me like something.” She steps closer. “If you’re not screwing her, then you’re either totally whipped for no reason, or you just really like being at her beck and call. But either way, it’s pathetic, and you should like, look into some new hobbies or something.”
She turns and walks out before I can argue, but I’m not sure I could have anyway.
RAYCHEL
Mom speeds around the house Wednesday night like a five-year-old’s remote-control car. She crashes into the table, knocking half of my homework to the floor. “Mom, it’s okay,” I say, hoping she’ll stop trying to pick it up. I haven’t had the energy to clean, and she’s making the mess worse. “Go get ready.”
“I’m sorry!” She jumps up as I smooth the wrinkled papers.
When Mom comes back, keys in hand, she’s added more eyeliner. One eye is crooked and brown makeup cakes the wrinkles at one corner of her mouth. She’s ten years younger than Mrs. R., but looks like the older of the two. “This base won’t blend right,” she says helplessly.
“Close your eyes.” I rub her cheek, then smudge the eyeliner until it’s even. “Why are you so nervous?”
“We’re going to Johnson Mill,” she says. “And I’m late.”
“Wow.” That’s a four-star restaurant. And it’s priced like a five.
She pats her hair. “Do I look okay?”
“You look great,” I lie. She kisses my forehead and heads for the door. “Mom,” I say impulsively. “Why don’t you invite him over here?”
She stops at the threshold and glances around at the mess. “Why don’t you have Matt over more?”
I fake laugh. “Point taken.” She looks like she expected a real answer, so I shoo her out the door. “Have fun.”
She hesitates. “You will meet him soon, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Whenever you’re ready.” I’m not in the best position to argue for honesty about dudes at the moment. “Now get going.”
Mom still waits. “You should call Asha.”
“She’s busy.” As usual.
“What about that Mexican girl? Briana?”
“Bree’s away at college, like all my other friends, remember?” I say. “And her folks are from Chile, not Mexico.”