“Because they don’t follow The Rules?” Molly asks.
“Because they’re mindless overly complicated drones who don’t say what they mean and get bent out of shape when I do. And they don’t follow The Rules. Which shouldn’t even be called Parker’s Rules anyway. It’s just a lot of common sense that common people commonly lack.”
Rick sits back down. “Here.” He brushes my fingers with a cold can.
“Thanks.” I pull the tab with my palm over the top to block the light burst of foam and then take a sip. Mmmm… pure C-6 goodness. Cold Carbonated Caffeinated Caramel Colored Cane sugar. Completely delicious.
“I just saw Sheila,” Rick says. “Near the cashier talking to the Dynamic Trio—well, Faith and Lila anyway, I didn’t see Kennedy. She didn’t go sit with them.”
“It might take longer,” Sarah says, “with all the clique-clash-chaos.”
When someone new comes to school, they get tested, cataloged, processed, and absorbed pretty quickly, often into the same group they just left. With whole schools combining, however, it’s way more complicated. Every king-of-the-hill from Jefferson brought a whole entourage and we have no idea what will happen with the school clique-scape. Sarah and I think Sheila will become part of the Cream, topped by the Dynamic Trio—Faith, Lila, and Kennedy—but we don’t know whether it’ll be the Jefferson Cream or the Adams Cream, if they remain separate, which seems unlikely, or if they combine, which seems even more unlikely.
“We’ll see,” I say. “At least we’ve resolved Rick’s confusion.”
“Nope, still confused. Trying to embrace it.”
“Any one of the Dynamic Trio has more in common with Sheila in a random lunch-line encounter than I do after a whole summer with her. I couldn’t discuss designer jeans if you put a gun to my head. I don’t think it matters, though.”
“Still confused.”
“I don’t think Sheila will become a long-term member of the Dynamic Trio because under all that lip gloss and style and bitchy backstabbing, Faith’s a dark horse. She has hidden depth.”
“Still confused.”
“Well, go back to embracing it then. But if Sheila joins up and they become the Dynamic Quado or whatever, eventually she’ll say the wrong thing about me and when she does, Faith will burn her to the ground and salt the earth where she stood.”
Quack quack quack. I answer my phone.
“Hey.”
“Hey. It’s been exactly twenty-four hours. You ready to talk now?”
“Wow. How about a kiss first? And how was your afternoon, Sarah?”
“It kind of crawled by if you really want to know. So how about it?”
“You didn’t give me twenty-four hours. We just didn’t have any time alone.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s been twenty-four hours. We’re alone now. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“That’s right, nothing happened. I didn’t talk to him and he didn’t talk to me. I’m not sure he was even there. I never heard his voice today.”
“That’s…”
“Impressive, I know.”
“I was going to say a familiar song.”
“I have an advantage over you full-featured models: if you don’t make accidental eye contact, it’s not awkward.”
“What the hell do you know about accidental eye contact?”
“What you’ve told me many times. And don’t forget I had seven years of twenty-twenty before the accident. I had plenty of awkward eye contact in the second grade. Remember Patel?”
“We’re not going to talk about him. We’re talking about—”
“Nothing happened. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“He’ll be in your Trig class every morning from now till June. You’re just going to pretend he isn’t?”
“That isn’t as hard as it sounds—”
“It’s not hard, it’s crazy. He’s going to come talk to you eventually. Then what? Give him an Amish shunning?”
“It worked at Marsh.”
“For a couple of months till we graduated. You think it’ll work for the next nine months?”
“I…”
“Two years?”
And just like that, I’m not having fun anymore. I wasn’t actually having fun before, but I wasn’t having a serious conversation either.
“There are no guarantees in life,” Sarah says. “But I guarantee he’s going to talk to you. He’s going to apologize—”
“He already tried—”
“He’ll try again. He’ll say he’s sorry—”
“I don’t want him to—”
“That won’t stop him. He’ll find you alone and talk to you and if you think it won’t happen you’ll get caught by surprise and not know what to do—”
“I’ll know what to do.”
“What? Ignore him for days and weeks and months? That’s fine for thirteen-year-olds but we’re not kids anymore. He’s going to say he was just a kid himself and it was just a stupid thing and he’s sorry and he wants you to forgive him—”
“I can’t.”
“I know you can’t—”
“But you think I should.”