Sunset Boulevard (32 page)

waited for your loyal subjects to come running back. 'Oh, Jojo will be so happy to have her life

hijacked while I wait for my BFFs to get bored with Amelie Adams.'"

Myla took a step forward, so that she and Jojo were mere inches away. Jabbing her sister's

chest with her polishless index finger, she spat out her words. "Whatever, BarfBarf. I didn't

hear you complaining when I lent you my shoes, or took you shopping, or taught you how to

walk upright instead of like some Central California cavewoman. Yakking on YouTube is

about as entertaining as you'll get."

Jojo shook her head, willing herself not to stammer in front of the crowd that had gathered.

Myla's friends, the manicurists, and dozens of other students were staring.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Jojo said. "You should appreciate all the people in this world

who see enough in you that they're willing to put up with your shit. Instead, you think they're

worthless unless you can make them do anything you want them to. As if having you pull the

strings and call the shots makes them the luckiest people on earth. You know your rule, 'It's not

you, it's them'? Myla, in your case, it's all
you
. You screw up the only things worth having, for,

I don't know what, popularity? Power? You probably don't even know. But you can have it."

Jojo yanked off the painful Stuart Weitzman platform heels Myla had lent her and dropped

them at her sister's feet. "And you can have your shoes back."

Myla stared at the shoes like they were a pair of dead rats. She couldn't believe Jojo had the

nerve to take her on in front of the entire school. And she couldn't believe she was letting it

happen. But worst of all, what if what Jojo was saying was true? She pursed her lips and

fanned her gaze around the nosy onlookers. Glaring at Jojo, she said, "You have no idea who

you're messing with. You're over."

Myla expected tears. But instead, Jojo shook her head, looked over Myla's shoulder, and

grinned.

"Okay, Myla," Jojo said, in a sincerely sweet voice. "Good luck with that. And good luck with

Ash." Then she winked, and spun on her bare heel, striding out of the party.

Myla took a deep breath, hoping the oxygen would purify her. That was done, at least. For

now. She should have known better than to reach out to Jojo. She'd created a monster.

But she didn't have the chance to breathe for long, because coming toward her was Ash.

With Daisy Morton. Holding hands.

Make that two monsters.

Ash caught her eye and whispered in Daisy's ear. Myla strode in their direction, too wobbly to

look any of her friends or classmates in the eye. There was an explanation for this. There had to

be. Maybe Daisy was wasted again, and the hand-holding was just a maneuver to keep her

from passing out.

"Hi, Ash," Myla said, trying to control her shaky voice. She examined Daisy, expecting to find

a trail of dry drool layered over caked-on makeup. She was a collage of
odd
: strands of hair

dyed green and hot pink, shiny bright blue eye makeup, and a bizarre ruffled T-shirt dress

worn over knee-high athletic socks and sequined Chuck Taylors. But Myla could tell she was

pretty beneath the makeup, with silvery eyes and surprisingly clear skin. She glowed, even as

she let go of Ash's hand and smiled faintly at Myla.

Ash seemed to glow, too. His shaggy hair was in its optimal default mode, a fringe of amber

falling over his left eye. Right now, Myla was the center of attention, a position she'd never

occupied as unwillingly as she did tonight.

"Can we talk?" Ash said, his voice more sympathetic than apologetic. Myla already knew what

was coming. The void in her stomach was the same emptiness she'd felt when she was seven

and Lailah had convinced her to give one of the poor kids in India her favorite American Girl

doll, Izzy. She'd done it, hoping to feel good, but instead had felt Izzy's absence for months

afterward. And now she'd given Ash away too. She'd hoped to put them on even ground, only

to find that the ground had been ripped out from under her.

"You don't have to explain," Myla said, quietly at first, steeling herself to fight back the tears.

All along, in some faint and ignored part of her, she'd known this was coming from the second

she'd told him to kiss someone else. But she'd listened to the other part, the part that told her

that having a plan was better than letting life keep you waiting. This was Ash's fault. If he had

just believed her that the Lewis night was meaningless, she would have never had to make this

idiotic bargain with him. And
he'd
been the one to tell her how disgusting Daisy was. With the

world watching as hers fell apart, Myla summoned a memory.

"I thought you stood for something," she said, remembering what he'd told her on his birthday.

She smirked into Ash's face, watching his eyes widen in panic as he recalled what came next.

"Didn't you say you liked musicians who were about integrity?" She ticked off the words on

her fingers, gleefully noticing Daisy's confused look. "Quality? Actual musical skills? So you

cleaned her up, but is she talented enough for you? Or are you just like everyone else,

captivated by a train wreck?"

She paused for a second. Everyone was silent. The perfect time for the knockout blow. "What

else was it you said? You were stuck with her against your will? But look who's holding hands

with a train wreck. Go ahead and ride that train all you want."

She took her eyes off Ash, raising an eyebrow at Daisy. She knew it was cruel. Daisy hadn't

technically done anything wrong. But she wasn't going to let another girl take away her favorite

thing without a fight.

Daisy's smile melted, her gray eyes narrowing--but not at Myla. She stared at Ash like he was

a stranger. And then she backed away from him.

Daisy stormed off, using the same beaten path as Jojo. Ash bit his lip, looking at Myla coldly.

The way he'd looked when he saw her kissing Lewis had been bad, but this look... this look

had
unforgivable
written all over it.

"If you think that just because she won't have me, you can, you're wrong," Ash said, as he

moved in the direction Daisy had gone. "Maybe when we were going out, you could manage

my life for me. But we're over, and if anyone's gonna screw my shit up, it's going to be me."

With that, he walked off too.

Myla tallied herself as 0-for-2 in the last words category. And 0-for-1,000,000 in the chance

that she'd ever be happy again.

PLAY IT AGAIN, ASH

Jake trudged toward his car, feeling more tired than he had in days. Maybe it had been the

movie, or having a girlfriend, or being the star of his own life for once that had made him

impervious to fatigue. But now, with the movie over and Kady gone--really gone--he felt every

ounce of energy draining out of him.

Maybe he just needed to eat some carbohydrates, though. Because, weirdly enough, he wasn't

brokenhearted about Kady dumping him. If anything, he felt kind of like a normal guy for

once--he'd actually been with a girl, and it hadn't worked out. It was like a badge of honor. He'd

high-fived with football players, sneaked out of his house, and gotten dumped, all in the space

of a day.

He arrived at the visitors' parking lot, seeing his Corolla crammed into a spot between two

monster Escalades. Sitting on the curb near the valet turnaround was Ash Gilmour, his head in

his hands, his hair tufted into spikes of frustration.

It was oddly quiet, the party noises muffled by the high hedges that surrounded the parking lot.

"Hey, dude," Jake said, looking down on his next-door neighbor. Ash looked like he'd lost his

dog, his best friend, and a bet. Maybe he had.

Ash looked up at him, his face registering surprise. "Jake, hey, you're leaving early."

Jake chuckled. "Yeah, well, I have one weekend to catch up on two weeks of homework."

"Oh, the movie," Ash said, grateful to talk about anything but the fact that Daisy had run out on

him. He'd followed her to the parking lot, but she was gone. He needed to go home and think.

Hearing Myla say the awful things he'd said had made him feel like a shitty, judgmental prick.

And it had cost him the girl he liked, one who made getting over Myla seem like a distinct

possibility.

"Yeah, the movie," Jake said. "The teachers don't care if I'm Jake or Tommy Archer. Deadlines

are deadlines. So, do you want a ride home? I'm going that way."

"Cool," Ash said, heaving himself off the curb. He walked toward one of the Escalades.

"Um, no, the Corolla is me," Jake said sheepishly, wondering if Ash would decide to just wait

instead of going home in his powder blue Dorkmobile.

Ash grinned. "Keeping it real, Goldsmith," he said. "Nice."

Sinking into the passenger seat, Ash toyed with the tape deck as Jake pulled away from the lot.

As they drove through the Transnational gates, Ash ran his hands over the tape deck controls.

"Retro. Kinda cool. I sort of think iPods are killing albums. Well, I didn't think it. I read it in

Rolling Stone
. But still. Is it cool if I turn it on?"

"Yeah, sure," Jake said, praying he didn't have some lame Duran Duran cassette in there.

Ash punched play, and after a few seconds of silence the sound of Queen's "You're My Best

Friend" poured out.

Even though the song was about a girlfriend, or one of Freddie Mercury's boyfriends, Ash

smirked at the memory of him and Jacob singing along to the song together as kids.

"Remember how we thought this was, like, a best-friend song? And not a love song?" Ash

said, staring at the looming semitruck rumbling up the freeway entrance in the next lane.

Jake laughed, merging into traffic. "Remember how when we hung out, we didn't like girls?

I'm thinking that we should bring that back."

Ash sighed, his eyes on the hills misted with clouds far on the horizon. "Yeah, tell me about

it."

"I know that was rhetorical, but I'll tell you anyway," Jake said, sighing. "Kady dumped me to

go film a new movie overseas. I have no skills. I guess just because you play big man on

campus doesn't mean you are one." He wondered if school would really be any different on

Monday, or if he'd go back to being lame Jacob PG again. Or worse, lame Jacob PG who got

dumped by Kady Parker.

"Hey, supposedly I'm some kind of big man on campus. Which actually sounds like a totally

douche bag thing to be. And it didn't help me. The girl I liked just found out the asshole remark

I made about her before I got to know her. And she ran off."

"Wow, we sound like an episode of
Dr. Phil
, huh?" Jake said.

"Next on
Dr. Phil
: 'How to Be a Douche Bag,' with Ash Gilmour and Jake Porter-Goldsmith,"

Ash said in an announcer's voice.

Jake laughed. "No, but seriously, that sucks, dude," he said, trying not to look up as he drove

beneath a billboard for Kady's next horror movie,
The Unwanted.
"If it makes you feel any

better, Kady's going to Prague. She better be in that movie, or I'm going to think she dumped

me in the most elaborate way possible."

Ash smirked, opening the glove box to check for other tapes. "She wouldn't make that up. At

least you can tell yourself she left because she had to, not because she thinks you're a total piece

of shit."
And because your ex is a complete psycho who wants your life without her to be

absolute misery,
Ash thought.