Come on, Teagan. Just make him leave.
“She is beautiful,” he says.
He thinks I’m beautiful?
“But she’s avoiding me,” he says. “I thought we were friends.”
Ouch.
“I’m sure she wants to be your friend,” Teagan says. “Don’t give up on her.”
No. You should give up.
Definitely give up.
Because, if you did, it would make this whole thing a lot easier.
“I won’t,” he says. “Just... if you see her, tell her I stopped by.”
“I will,” she says.
Once I hear the door shut, I get up from the floor.
“Explain,” Teagan says, turning to me.
“I just... am avoiding him. It’s not a big deal.”
“I know Estaine. He likes you. Or he’s on the verge of liking you,” she says. “He doesn’t date. Ever. Or have girlfriends. So, if he’s interested in you, then you’re lucky. Most of the girls in this school have a crush on him.”
It’s hard not to have a crush on a guy like Estaine.
Seriously.
“I like you, Phoenix,” Teagan says. “I consider you my friend. But Estaine, he’s been my friend for a long time. Don’t break his heart.”
“I won’t,” I say. “At least not on purpose.”
“And talk to him, okay?”
“I will,” I say, knowing that she’s right. I can’t avoid him forever. “I promise.”
“Tomorrow?”
I nod once.
And my stomach is already in knots thinking about it.
Friday, August 25
Lie.
The school counselor sits in front of me with a file sitting out in front of her. I wonder what the file says, but mostly I just want to get out of here.
Ms. Kribs leans forward in her chair, her grayish, blonde hair falling onto her desk as she looks at something in my file.
Seriously, could she not read this before I came in here?
I roll my eyes, but keep my mouth shut. I want this to be a one-time visit.
“Let’s talk about your future,” she says.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“Where do you want to go to college?”
“Berkeley,” I answer.
She nods. “Good school. I see that both of your parents went there. You have excellent grades, a good attendance record and a great resume—surf club, soccer team, and even some volunteer work. I see you’re taking French this year. How is that going?”
“Meh,” I say. “It’s my second year taking the language, but I don’t feel like I’ve learned that much. I think I could probably ask where the bathrooms are, and order food, but that’s about it.”
“Learning a second language would really help your application stand out more,” she says.
“You have my file, and you’re talking about my parents, so you obviously know who my dad is,” I say. “I don’t think I’ll have a problem getting in to an Ivy League school.”
“Phoenix Black would definitely not have a problem getting in,” Ms. Kribs says. “But Phoenix Underwood might.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, letting out a frustrated growl. “It’s not fair. I am Phoenix Black. And I’m really hoping this whole terrorist thing will be behind me by then.”
“You’ve got to be prepared.”
“Look, it doesn’t matter. If I want to go to Berkeley, I can get in,” I say. “Phoenix Underwood or Phoenix Black. It doesn’t matter. And I really have no desire to learn French. Maybe if I ever planned on moving there, but I don’t.”
“Fine,” the counselor says, letting out a sigh. I’m sure she’s used to dealing with spoiled, rich kids. “Let’s talk about why you’re here. It must be hard pretending to be somebody you’re not.”
I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s... whatever. I’m fine as long as my family is safe.” I stand up from my chair. “Are we done here?”
“We’ve hardly even talked,” Ms. Kribs says.
“And yet, I have nothing else to say to you,” I say.
Yeah, I know. I’m being rude. But I really, really don’t want to be here and she is the one forcing me to. This sucks.
“Okay,” she says. “You can go. But if ever it becomes too much, or you need somebody to talk to, come find me or call me. I will come night or day.”
She slides a card across her desk and smiles at me, making me feel even worse for snapping at her.
I grab the card. “Thank you. And I didn’t mean to be rude... I just... thanks.”
I get up and quickly vacate the room.
As I am leaving her office, my phone vibrates.
TEAGAN: Come hang out the football field!
ME: K. Be right there.