The List (19 page)

t is a sickness, one that’s entirely infected her. There’s no difference between the grime and Sarah’s skin. It’s fused together.

Her alarm goes off, but Sarah doesn’t open her eyes because she doesn’t want to feel the squeeze of dirt in the folds of her eyelids.

She slept naked last night. Really, she didn’t sleep at all. Just lay there and itched.

Her clothes are in a damp pile on the floor. She cheats and puts her underwear on inside out. It barely helps. It takes everything tough inside her to put the rest of them on.

The whole bike ride to school, she imagines a conversation between Milo and Annie about the fight she’d had with him yesterday in the hall. Annie would tell Milo to stay away from Sarah. That she sounds deranged. Milo would tell Annie that he misses her. That he wishes he’d never had to move away.

As if to confirm her worst suspicions, Milo isn’t waiting for her on the bench.

At least it’s cold out. The chill makes her skin contract, tighten up, and burn numb, almost to where she can’t feel herself. She sits on the bench and waits, frozen in filth, until the second bell rings, until she is officially late.

Milo never shows up.

Friday is 10,000 percent the opposite of Monday. No one ignores her. They can’t. Now all her classmates look at her in sheer horror. Sarah falls into her homeroom seat. There is the
squeak of chair legs and desk legs as those sitting close to her try to move away. Even the shunning can’t penetrate the filth. It is body armor. Underneath it, she feels nothing.

With every step, the slightest movement or shift, her smell escapes. A scent sour and raw and sharp. The boys pull their shirt collars up over their noses. The girls press perfumed wrists against their faces.

It is beautiful.

Except she can tell they never expected anything less disgusting from her. There’s no shock, no awe. Just a sense of destiny.

anielle stands in the doorway of the pool office with one hand clutching her shoulder. “Coach Tracy?” She squeezes the words through her teeth.

Coach Tracy spins around in her chair, looking immediately concerned. “Danielle. What’s wrong? Why aren’t you in your bathing suit?”

“I think I hurt my arm yesterday in the weight room. I must have done too many lifts.” Danielle startles as Coach Tracy rises to her feet. “I — I shouldn’t have tried to show off. I’m thinking I’d better not get in the water today. You know. As a precaution for tomorrow’s meet.”

Coach Tracy presses a thumb gently into Danielle’s shoulder muscle. Danielle sucks in a sharp breath on cue.

“This is a problem. You need to practice with your team so you get the timing down for the meet tomorrow. We still haven’t worked on your flip turns.” Coach Tracy presses a couple of other places down Danielle’s arm. Danielle winces as she thinks she should. “I’m going to have to bring another swimmer up to fill your spot.”

“I’m sure it will be better tomorrow, Coach Tracy. I swear. And I’ll sit in on practice, so I won’t miss anything. I just don’t want to aggravate it. I really think I just need a day off from swimming, and it’ll feel better.”

Coach Tracy continues to prod her shoulder, but her touch feels different than it had moments before. It is less diagnostic
and more playacting. “If you think that’s what you need, I guess I can’t argue with you. But I can’t take the chance that you’ll be better tomorrow.”

Danielle is in pain as she walks out of the pool office. Except the hurt is in her chest and not her shoulder. It has been there all day. She can’t get into the water today. Not when she’d spent so much time fixing her hair this morning. Not when she has plans for after practice, when she absolutely has to look her best.

Danielle takes a seat on the bleachers. She watches the rest of the varsity team dive into the water, along with Hope, whom Coach Tracy picks as her replacement.

About two hours later, Danielle sits in the locker room, waiting for Hope to get changed.

“Are you sure you still want to get pizza?” Hope asks. “Maybe you should go home and rest your shoulder.”

Danielle folds up Hope’s wet towel. “Pizza’s not going to hurt my shoulder, Hope.”

“But what if Coach Tracy sees you out with the guys? She might never let you swim varsity.”

Danielle notices that the way Hope sometimes speaks makes her sound not like a best friend but like a little sister. And Hope sort of looks like a little sister, too, with her baggy sweatpants, shapeless T-shirt, and hooded sweatshirt tied around her waist. Her hair is up in a floppy bun, half-dried from her after-practice shower. Hope has really pretty hair, when she bothers to blow it out. Danielle thinks about suggesting that she should. But she doesn’t want to keep Andrew and his friends waiting. And anyway, it isn’t like Hope has something to prove to them.

“What could Coach Tracy possibly say? I have to eat dinner. It’s not a big deal.” And then, because maybe she’s come off a bit harsh, Danielle adds, “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

Bringing Hope along had been Andrew’s idea.

He hadn’t called her after the weight room incident, hadn’t answered her texts. Probably, she figured, because he was worried about how angry she might be for the way he’d acted.

But the thing was, Danielle wasn’t calling to yell at him. She had wanted to share the news that she was now a varsity swimmer. Okay, maybe it wasn’t homecoming court, and it didn’t have anything to do with whether she was pretty or ugly, but it was something Danielle knew Andrew and even his idiot friends could respect.

But more than respect, she wanted Andrew to be proud of her again. Proud to be with her.

So that morning, she’d woken up early and taken extra time getting ready. She’d used conditioner on her hair, and made the mental note that she should use it more often. She put on makeup and traded her T-shirt bra for one with padding. And finally, she put on the one sundress she’d packed for Camp Clover Lake, the one Andrew had once said made the boys in his bunk go crazy. It was too cold for cotton that thin, so Danielle paired it with a cardigan sweater and a pair of leggings.

And then she’d waited for Andrew at his locker before homeroom.

“Hey,” he said, sounding tired.

“Guess what,” she said, popping up on her toes. “I have news.”

She waited for him to look at her. Andrew dug through his locker for his books. He used the door to hide his face.

And suddenly, the pride from her accomplishment twisted into something needy. “Your parents are still gone, right? Because I was thinking after school, I could come over again.” She still wasn’t sure how she felt about what they’d done on Wednesday, but here she was, ready to do that and more.

“Actually, a couple guys are going to grab pizza after practice,” he said.

“Oh.” It amazed her how much desperation could fit into a single syllable. “Where? Mimeo’s or Tripoli’s?”

“Probably Tripoli’s. I don’t know.”

“I love Tripoli’s. It’s the best pizza in town.” Andrew closed his locker door, and Danielle found herself practically standing on top of him. “I was actually thinking about having pizza tonight, too, which is weird.”

“Do you … want to go?”

“Do you want me to go?”

He shrugged. “Why would I care if you ate pizza or not?”

“Well, then I’ll go.” It wasn’t exactly the invitation she’d hoped for, but she knew that if she and Andrew were going to work, she was going to have to find a way to get along with his friends. It wasn’t just about making Andrew see her as pretty. It was as important that Chuck and the rest of the guys saw her that way, too.

“Well, you should probably invite Hope to come, so you’re not the only girl. It might be weird for you otherwise. And that way, you’ll have someone else to talk to.”

“Isn’t that
your
job? You know, as my boyfriend?” He gave her a look, and Danielle backed off. She didn’t want him to rescind the invitation he’d barely extended. “Okay. I’ll bring Hope. We’ll meet you at the corner after practice.”

Danielle and Hope wait for twenty minutes at the corner, keeping an eye out for Coach Tracy’s Jeep. When Andrew and his friends don’t show, Danielle wonders if his practice is running late. The two girls walk over to the field.

It’s empty.

Hope sighs. “I thought you said Andrew —”

“He must have forgotten. He’s so focused on the homecoming game. It’s all he talks about.”

Hope doesn’t say anything more on the five-block walk to Main Street, but Danielle is still annoyed with her. Already Hope is failing at her purpose: to make things less awkward for Danielle.

Danielle sees a break in the traffic and darts across the street. She knows Hope is behind her. A car honks, but Danielle doesn’t stop. She has her eyes on Tripoli’s Pizza.

The boys are inside. Andrew, Chuck, and a bunch of others. Two pizza trays have been cleared, save for three slices and a pile of uneaten crusts. The guys are being rowdy, laughing about something. But they quiet when Danielle walks through the door, Hope following at her heels.

Danielle goes right up to the table.

Chuck says, “Dan the Man!”

“My name is Danielle.”

Chuck looks wide-eyed at the other boys. “Sorry, Danielle. Anyway, it’s nice to see you,
dude
!”

The other boys laugh. But not Andrew. He stares down at the table.

“I thought you were meeting us at the corner,” she whispers.

Andrew scratches at the cheese stuck to his paper plate.
“Right. Sorry. The guys practically carried me here after practice. They were starving. Plus, coach let us off early.”

The other boys have their heads down, too, so she can’t tell if Andrew is lying or not. And just as Danielle notices that none of the guys move to make room for her or Hope, she feels a hand touch her shoulder. “Here,” Hope says, guiding Danielle backward. “I got us a table.”

Danielle is shaking. She’s never been so embarrassed. But what could she have expected? She practically forced Andrew to invite her along. If only she could go back in time and save face. There will be no easy exit now. She’ll have to play it cool, or risk completely humiliating herself.

Danielle goes up to the counter and orders herself and Hope a slice and a soda each. When she sits back down, the boys’ conversation is going again. She chews as quietly as she can and listens from her table.

“I don’t care what those senior girls say. There’s no way in hell I’m voting for Jennifer Briggis for homecoming queen,” Chuck says. “It makes a mockery of everything. Any girl who gets picked ugliest in her class has no right to win. Point-blank.” Danielle can feel Chuck’s eyes on her, but she can’t bring herself to meet his gaze. “And have you smelled that dirtbag Sarah Singer? It’s like all the ugly girls in school are banding together to ruin homecoming!” Chuck sucks down the last of his soda, squeezes his hand around the can, and pushes the crumpled aluminum toward Andrew. “In other shitty news, I heard that Abby can’t go to your homecoming party, bro. She’s grounded.”

Feet rustle underneath the boys’ table. Another boy laughs so hard, he almost chokes.

Danielle stiffens. A party at Andrew’s? After homecoming? Why hasn’t he said anything to her?

“Shut up, Chuck,” Andrew hisses.

Chuck groans. “Um, yeah. Like I was saying, Abby’s so hot. Right, Andrew?”

Danielle can’t breathe.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chuck stands up, gleeful, and points at Andrew. “Liar! You told me you jerked off to her the other night!”

Andrew whips a pizza crust at Chuck. The other boys howl.

Hope stands up so fast, her soda splashes onto her plate. “Let’s go.” But Danielle is paralyzed with embarrassment. “Danielle, come on!” Hope pulls her out from behind the table and pushes her to the door. “You’re an ass, Andrew,” she says on their way out.

Hope is booking it down the street away from the pizza shop as fast as she can, dragging Danielle along with her. But Danielle doesn’t want to go. She wants to give Andrew a chance to explain himself. She tries to pull her hand free.

“Hope …”

“What happened to you, Danielle? Have you forgotten how to stand up for yourself?”

Hope has tears in her eyes when she says it. And, for Danielle, that hurts worse than anything else.

Andrew comes outside and jogs up to them. “Hey. Don’t be mad, okay?”

Hope opens her mouth to go off on him again, but this time, Danielle steps in front of her. She chokes back her tears and says, “‘Don’t be mad’? Are you kidding? You’re having a party after homecoming and you didn’t invite me?”

“It’s not even a party, Danielle! It’s just a couple people talking about stopping by. I don’t want anyone to come over. If my parents find out, they’ll kill me. But Chuck is … Look, I didn’t think you’d want to come. I didn’t want to put you in that position to spend a night with Chuck. Not with all the crap he’s been saying about you.”

“Hmm. How thoughtful.” Danielle crosses her arms. “Hey, just wondering, but did you stick up for me? Like, once?”

Andrew looks at his shoes. “I care about my friends, okay? I care about their opinions.”

“So do I. That’s why I’ve spent the whole week defending you to Hope. Telling her that you’re a good guy, even though you’ve barely done anything to make me feel better.”

Andrew holds up his hands. “You can’t blame me for not knowing what to say. I don’t know what you’re going through.”

It’s probably true. But for as long as she’s known him, Andrew has had a chip on his shoulder. He’s always afraid that he doesn’t measure up to Chuck and the rest of his friends. Football stuff, his clothes, his body.

He could have understood, if he’d tried. If he’d dug deep.

“I’ve gone out of my way to make you feel good about yourself. When have you done that for me?” A warmness is spreading through her body, limbering her up. “And this is how you break up with me? By humiliating me in front of your friends?”

Andrew finally looks at her. He mumbles, “I didn’t break up with you.”

It takes a second for his words to sink in.

Andrew still wants to be with her?

She searches his face for a glimmer of someone who remembers who she had been before Monday. The boy who had been proud to be with her, who had pursued her for weeks at camp. How could so much change in a week? Danielle hasn’t only lost her sense of self, but she’s lost her sense of Andrew, too.

She sees traces of sadness in the corners of his eyes and the edges of his mouth.
This is Andrew’s Game Face,
she realizes. A mask to hide the embarrassment of how he’s acted and the way he’s treated her. It is a tiny glimpse that, underneath it all, he’s sorry for how he’s acted.

It is of some comfort to her.

But not much.

Because Danielle’s Game Face is off. She’s brave enough to lay herself bare, to put it all out there for him to see. The pretty and the ugly and the everything. She wants Andrew to do the same for her. To be real with her for once. To admit that, yeah, it sucks to have his girlfriend on the list. It’s embarrassing. But he shouldn’t let his friends treat her this way. He should stand up for her. To admit that his Game Face has been an act of cowardice, not strength.