“I got a fifteen hundred! Can you believe it?”
I tried to ignore the simmer of unease in me and be happy for my friend. But I couldn’t help it. What was I going to do about the SATs? And my grades?
“Can you go for a drive? Please tell me you are allowed to go for a drive.”
I totally wanted to. But leaving the property was about as against the rules as you could get. “I can’t.”
“Oh.” Her whole body slumped. “Well, can you at least sit in it for a second?”
I glanced back toward the door. Ray was nowhere in sight. “Sure, I guess I could. For a second, anyway.”
I climbed in. It smelled like a new car. “This is so nice,” I said, settling back into the black cloth seat. I’d gotten my permit back in May, on my sixteenth birthday. I’d started driver’s ed at the end of the summer, but I’d had to drop out to come here. I was supposed to get my license in November, but who knew when I’d get around to it now. I thought for a second about Katrina, Shay, and Priya driving around together. It gave me a stomach cramp. It seemed impossible that I’d only been here for ten days. It felt like a month.
Katrina turned toward me like she’d read my mind. “Things aren’t the same without you, E.”
“Thanks. You know what I was thinking about the other day?”
“No, what?”
“Remember when we went ugly hunting?”
Katrina beamed. “Totally. Oh my God. That was so funny.”
Of all the things I missed doing out in the real world, ugly hunting was up toward the top of the list. The four of us used to do it every time we went to the mall. We’d go to a department store and try on the most hideous formal dresses we could possibly find and then Instagram the results. The best selection was always around prom, when the racks were overstuffed with taffeta, sequins, satin, and general tackiness.
Once, Priya tried to get us into the bridal department at Nordstrom; she’d pointed to Katrina’s stomach and said with a wink at the saleslady, like she was letting her in on the secret, “The sooner the better.” The lady didn’t buy it, and we ran out of the store, three of us shrieking with laughter and Katrina swearing she was going to kill Priya, which somehow made the whole thing even funnier. It hurt to think about now.
“Katrina, are Priya and Shay mad at me for some reason? I don’t get why I haven’t heard from them.”
Katrina stepped closer. “They miss you,” she said. “Some people just don’t know how to handle stuff like this. It’s hard, E.”
“What’s hard about picking up the phone?”
“You know what I mean. It can be tough to know what to say. Like, right now I don’t want to tell you too much about what’s going on at school because I don’t want to make you feel like you’re missing anything. That’s all.”
“Oh.” I didn’t believe her. I was sure that with Shay and Priya, it was out of sight, out of mind. Other girls brought this up in group, too. How they felt forgotten.
Katrina glanced at her watch. She wanted to leave now. I could tell. I racked my brain for something I could say to make her stay.
It came to me a second later. Of course! “Guess who checked in the other day?”
“Who?”
“Simone McCann.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait, Simone, Tristan’s sister? Whoa. Why?”
I opened my mouth to tell her, but something stopped me. Karma, perhaps? Maybe, if I didn’t talk about Simone now, she wouldn’t talk about me at school later. So I backpedaled. “I don’t know.”
“Huh. Is it weird?”
“No, not really. I don’t see her that much yet.”
“Well, that’s good.”
She wanted more info, I could tell, but I didn’t want to tell her about seeing Tristan. She’d make a big deal out of it.
“Tell me what’s going on at school,” I said instead.
She launched into a story about a freshman I didn’t know or care about. I waited as long as I could before I asked what I was dying to ask. “So … seen Charlie lately?”
Katrina scowled a little. “Yes,” she said, full of scorn. “He’s the same. Still an ass.” She paused. “He asked for your address.” She obviously did not think this was good news.
My stomach flip-flopped. “Really? When? Why?”
“The same day you came here. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when it happened. It’s just that, well, I didn’t want to upset you. Has he sent you anything?”
“No. Nothing.” Except for perfect things, I wanted to say. But I kept my mouth shut. She wouldn’t understand.
“Elizabeth, you can’t let this mess with your head, okay? I don’t want you waiting for something that never arrives.”
“Katrina, I am so much better now. Seriously, I’m not like that anymore.” We both knew what she was talking about. After Charlie and I broke up, my anorexia got worse. I started existing on six cans of Diet Coke, four almonds, and two cucumbers a day, down from one yogurt, a few almonds, one banana, and three bites of dinner. By the time I got here, six weeks later, I weighed 90 pounds, 15 less than when we broke up.
Katrina wasn’t buying it. “He’s still toxic, Elizabeth.”
“I know. But don’t worry. He hasn’t sent me anything and I bet he won’t. I don’t even want him to.”
“Well,” she said, “just don’t get your hopes up. He probably asked me because he knew it would kill Heather. They were in a huge fight at the time.”
I played with my seat belt and looked away, embarrassed by how excited her words made me. “How do you know?”
“Priya told me. It doesn’t matter anyway, because I think they made up.”
“What was the fight about?”
“I don’t know. Why do you care?”
“No—no reason,” I stammered. “I’m just bored here, that’s all. I like to keep track of things.”
“Um, okay. But, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s still a jerk.”
“I know.” I almost said something then, so she could see how great he actually was, how he had this little-boy smile he sometimes gave me. Or how, when he learned I had a total phobia of being in speeding cars, he slowed down and didn’t drive as fast as he usually did. Or how, at night, he liked to have tea with his mom, which I thought was ridiculously cute. Or how he’d bring me nuts or a Clif Bar at work and encourage me to take bites. I knew she’d approve of that.
Katrina’s phone chirped. She checked it and whacked the steering wheel. “Shoot. I have to go. We have an Amnesty meeting in an hour and Devin messed up the copies. I need to unjam her printer.” Katrina was the social conscience of our school. She was president of the Amnesty International club and the community service club, and secretary of student government. Her college application was going to be amazing. Mine, on the other hand? Let’s just say being here wasn’t helping.
“I wish you could take me with you.”
“Me too. Hold on.” Her thumbs flew across her phone screen. “I just need to let her know I’m on my way.”
“Okay.” I opened the door and got out. I desperately wanted her to stay, but I couldn’t think of the right words to keep her there. “Katrina?”
“Yeah?”