"O-m-g, it's so good. There are these four friends who -"
I cut her off. "— And I don't ever want to. So besides coming over here to irritate me, was there anything else? We hooked up at one party in a coatroom, which doesn't exactly classify us as anything."
Stacy's face falls and she bits her lower lip. Which immediately makes me think of Molly, because she does the same thing: only when she does it, it's endearing and irresistible.
"Well, yeah, but I was kind of hoping...." Her voice trails off, just as something occurs to me.
"Stacy, aren't you and Molly Wakefield friends?"
She hesitates. "Um. Kind of, but not really."
"Kind of, but not really?" I mock her in my best nasally girl voice. "What the hell does that even mean? Oh wait - is that code for '
I'm a two-faced bitch that sneaks around behind my friends back
?' Because you probably already know Molly and I have been going out lately."
No longer being able to remain stoic, Stacy snorts. "Yeah, but everyone knows you're not even taking her to Fall Formal."
Now I'm confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Do I have to spell it out for you?
Fine
. My point is, if you liked her, you would be taking her to the dance. Not ditching her during the biggest social event of the year."
I'm still confused. "So? It's just a damn dance. I have shit to do that night."
"More important shit, apparently," Stacy says smugly, a satisfied mask of an expression covering her passable features. "Are you her boyfriend or not?"
"What? No. How many bloody times do I have to tell you people? Molly Wakefield is not, nor will she ever be, my damn girlfriend."
It's that same moment that Mr. Pembroke, one of the science teachers, sticks his head out of his classroom and squints down the hallway at us. Clearly, he's not wearing his contacts today. "Oh, Mr. McGrath, it's you." He looks me up and down. "Please keep the cursing and the noise level to a
min
-eh-mum."
It's also the moment Stacy's eyes get wide, and she looks over my shoulder - her cool mask transforming into one of pure glee.
Don't turn around, don't turn around, don't turn around
I chant to myself, because I know that when I do, I know exactly who I'm going to see standing there.
MOLLY
"Sometimes your Knight in Shining armor is really just a Douchebag in tin foil." - Jenna, who saw it on Pinterest
Oh my god, how utterly cliché and predictable could this scene be? No worse than an After School Special or a Lifetime Movie, I stand there in the hall, crushed with the misfortune of having to overhear such spiteful and insensitive words coming out of Weston's mouth.
It's always back to square one with this guy! What the hell? This is, after all, the second or third time he's done this to me. Crap, maybe I'm the one who should be reading '
He's Just Not That Into Yo
u' because apparently, Weston's not as into me as I originally thought.
And just when I thought I might be falling in love with him.
Crash and burn is more like it, because it looks like the joke is on me.
My first impulse, of course, is to flee and get my butt out of the hallway. Remove myself entirely from the whole awkward situation.
But I don't.
Hell
to the
no
.
I'm stronger than that.
So I do what any self-respecting girl would do: I stand there and confront the situation, watching Stacy Bingham's victorious face over Weston's shoulder, before he turns his broad frame to face me. I want that bastard to look me in the eyes so he can see the hurt his careless words have cost me.
Again
.
A few moments pass as he and I just watch each other, and I feel a hand on my shoulder - the comforting pull of my best friend slowly tugging me away. She moves to stand in front of me, her small frame a sizzling ball of energy as she stares down Stacy.
Jenna is beyond pissed, and for once, I don't stop her from what she's about to say.
"What the
H
do you think you're doing Stacy? Haven't you ever heard of 'Girl Code?' You don't go after your friend's boyfriend."
Stacy laughs. "Oh, but didn't you hear? She's a nothing to him. A
nobody
- and most certainly not his girlfriend. Right Weston? Isn't that what you were just telling me?"
That bitch.
Why?
Why
are girls so cruel, I ask you? Just minutes ago we were all sitting at the same lunch table together, laughing (okay, so mostly just Jenna and I were laughing) and talking about what dresses everyone was wearing to the big dance coming up. Even though I'm not going, I was still excited to hear what everyone's plans are.
And Weston, that big lummox of an idiot, just stands there trying to come up with something to say. Now, I'll be the first to admit he was doing pretty good there for a little bit, fending off Stacy's subtle advances by being a complete dick. But here's what I don't understand: why did he get all weird and defensive when she asked if I was his girlfriend? It's like, what the hell, dude - get over it! She was just asking a question. We're not getting married tomorrow for pities sake - we just went on a one date and we've been flirting for a few weeks.
Big deal.
Immediately I'm glad to be female
- how terrible would it be not to have any rational thoughts going through that thick head?
And I swear to you, it's taken every ounce of self-control that I have not to whip out my cell phone and text my brother, so he can come beat the crap out of Weston for embarrassing me like this.
I dig deep within myself to force out a laugh, but it comes out low and broken. Which is exactly how I feel. Borrowing one of Jenna's favorite words, I mockingly taunt, "
Duh
Stacy - Do you think I want to be tied down by a guy who has no life other than hockey? Please, even I'm not that desperate."
Apparently, that's not enough for Jenna, and she nudges me with her elbow. But since I'm not taking her cue, she steps forward dramatically. "You asshole! You big, dumb asshole. I trusted you!"
Dear lord. Seriously Jenna?
"Who the hell do you think you are, Weston McGrath, huh? Standing there, looking all hot -
Er
, I mean, not giving a shit about Molly's feelings. Well, let me tell you something
pal
, you are the one losing out here. And Stacy, if you're gonna be a two-faced, at least make sure one of them is pretty."
The whole time Jenna is ranting on (besides wanting to both laugh and cry at the same time) my eyes are locked on Weston's, and I looked for any sign that he regrets his words or that he is going to rescind them.
"Jenna, stop," I say, putting my hand on her arm, because she's acting like a dog with rabies. Either that or she's trying to win an Academy Award for Best Dramatic Scene. Because we have an audience, Weston hasn't moved a muscle, and I shake my head gently before saying, "You know... all those times you stand up
to
people - those jerks you call your friends - now you won't stand and put up a little fight for
me
? The worst part is I really thought we were friends."
Then, to really drive my point home and to piss him off, I add, "Looks like my brother was right about you."
I turn just in time to see his eyes flash and his nostrils flare as he stares after me.
He's either pissed off - or turned on - and all I can think is
good
.
But I still want to vomit.
WESTON
Yes.
Yes, I am a fucking idiot for letting her walk off - are you satisfied?
As Molly walks away, her small sassy friend in tow, Stacy sighs beside me and crosses both arms over her flat chest. "Well. That was only
slightly
awkward."
"Why are you still standing here?" I ask rudely, grabbing my books and slamming my locker shut. "If I were you, I would walk away before I do something we're both going to regret."
I start walking towards the math wing.
Undaunted and stepping in line with my brisk pace, Stacy is not taking the hint and lets out a short little laugh. "You're not blaming me for your fuck up back there, are you?
Ugh
, such a typical guy thing to do. That scene back there," she gestures over her shoulder. "That was entirely
your
fault."
I stop dead in my tracks and grab her by the arm. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? If you hadn't have pissed me off and pushed all my buttons, I wouldn't have lost my temper."
Her eyebrow shoots up. Slowly she says, "So... let me get this straight. I ask you if Molly's your girlfriend.... Anndd because I've already pissed you off, you get mad and yell that she'll never be your - oh wait. How exactly did you put it? She'll never be your 'damn girlfriend. Do I have it right?"
"Jesus Christ you're a pain in the ass." I can feel my temper rising again, and now we're not alone anymore in the hallway. People are moving from one class to another, or to the lunchroom for fourth period.
"Don't you get it? Like, it doesn't matter if I'm the reason you were mad. Did you mean it? Do you really not care?"
I don't answer. Instead, I stand staring off down the long corridor.
"Answer me." Stacy persists. "Because seriously? If you love her that was a super shitty thing to do."
This gets my attention. "Oh yeah? What about you - aren't you supposed to be her friend?" Sarcasm drips off my tongue.
Stacy shrugs. "Eh. Not really. I just basically sit at her lunch table listening to her and Jenna hold court like they own the place. But whatever." She tosses her long hair over her shoulder, and bumps me in the hip. "So. You better figure it out. "
An understatement if ever there was one.
MOLLY
"Could you please not talk to me again? It's for a school project." - Maddie to Brian Bossner after their first and only date.
Normally, I am not one to dwell.
I don't pout.
I don't wallow in self-pity.
But there most certainly have been a few occasions when I
have
made exceptions:
1. The time Erica Pederson cheated off my math test in 5
th
grade and
I
got in trouble for it. To this day I still can't walk by her in the hall without curling my lip.
2.The time my Nan made me a pig costume for Halloween and my parents forced me to wear it... and I was TWELVE.
3.The time Jenna drew a mustache on my face with Sharpie during a sleepover and it wouldn't come off no matter how hard I scrubbed. We had family pictures the next day, and I was grounded for a week.
4.Just for dramatic effect, I'm going to repeat the fact that my parents made me wear a pig costume out in public when I was twelve, which we all know if a pivotal point in a young girls life. I could
easily
have been traumatized by this...
The first thing I want to do, oddly enough, is call my brother. The girly, prideful part of me seriously wants Matthew to come home and kick Weston's ass. Maybe rough him up a bit.
Or at least threaten to.
I think that might make me feel better. Right? Ugh, who am I trying to kid? It would make me feel awful because I don't hate the guy.
I love him.
All the way home, Jenna sits in the passenger seat of the Jeep, and she hasn't said much (which we all know is
so
not like her) but I can definitely hear her muttering under her breath about '
all men are creeps'
and '
she should have seen this coming from a guy so hot he could melt ice cream from his hotness
.'
Yeah, riveting stuff.
I adjust my seat and shift gears, tuning her out and listening to the sound of my engine and the wind as we cruise down Maple Street, through town, then out onto the country road that leads to my house.
Finally, unable to stand it (because I know Jenna is just
dying
to unleash on me), I say "So. Spill. Tell me what you're really thinking." I take a side long look at her, and she's twirling her blonde hair between her neon pink finger tips. The shiny silver thumb ring she's wearing catches the sun, and at first she shakes her head like she's got nothing to say.
But I know better, and so I wait.
"I just don't understand it." Jenna turns her body so she's shifted in her seat, facing me. "Why is he doing this? I thought you had this all locked up. Instead, he's being a douche, just like typical guy."
I tap on the steering wheel and nod. "Well... I guess it just wasn't enough." My words come out just barely above a whisper, sort of raspy.
"Okay,
what
ever Molly. He can't be one way when you're alone then act like a total dick when he's in public. 'F'
that
shit." The wind whips around us and Jenna watches me for a few seconds before adding. "So... what are you going to do if he calls?"
I laugh almost bitterly. "He won't call. He's never called."
"Okay, what are you going to do if he
texts
."
Good question. "I have no idea."
"Well you better figure it out, because if I know guys - and I
do
know guys - he is totally going to come crawling back, Molly. And when he does, I want you to be prepared." She flops back in the passenger seat with a loud sigh. "Ugh. This sucks. You didn't even get
laid
."
A short burst of nervous laughter comes out of my mouth as a response to her outrageous comment. "Like that was my whole objective. You are
such
a pig!"
Uh, yeah - like the sex thing didn't totally cross my mind.
"I'm serious Molly, you totally got robbed."
"I wasn't...
with him
so I could get a piece of him Jenna. I was with him because I genuinely
like
him. And I thought he liked me." I say this so quietly I'm not sure she hears me.
She reaches over to pat the hand that's resting on the gearshift, and I know she understands.
***
The rest of the afternoon drags on. I'm sitting at the counter in the kitchen with my Algebra book out when my mom bustles in, a brown paper bag of groceries under each of her arms. She gives me a side glance, sets the bags down, and turns around with a "Hey."