How to Ruin Series Part 132

Me: You there?

Jess: No.

Me: Want to talk?

Jess: No.

Me: Fine.

Jess: Fine.

Crossing my room to my desk, I take out the CA student directory and dial Miranda's number.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Miranda?"

"Yeah."

"It's Amy. Um ... I just wanted to say I'm sorry I was kinda rude tonight. I mean, if I hurt your feelings I didn't mean to. It was the banana incident and-"

"And your fight with Jessica," she says, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, that too. Well, I just wanted to apologize."

"Apology accepted."

Phew. One person to check off my list of people p.i.s.sed with me. "Maybe we could hang out sometime."

I think Miranda just dropped the phone, 'cause I hear this big bang on the other end of the line. She recovers pretty quickly, though. "You really want to hang out with me?"

"Sure. I know you're in pretty much all AP cla.s.ses and I'm not, but you were really cool tonight."

"Wow.

Thanks,"

Miranda says excitedly. "You're way more popular than me, Amy, but you must know that. I just thought you would think I was lame like the other girls at school ... well, except Jessica. Although Jessica and I don't hang out unless it's for the youth group."

Here's the thing about popularity: it's the ones who declare themselves popular who usually get pegged as popular. You've got to know how to talk big and act like you're someone important and people will treat you like you're big and important. My wonderful mother taught me to be who I want to be without making excuses. I admit sometimes I go a bit overboard with my comments and actions, but I have a conscience. I apologize.

Of course it's only to the people who deserve an apology.

I guess you can call me apologetically selective. (I think I just made that up, but I like it.) "Don't you live next door to that new guy from school?" Miranda asks. "He's totally cute."

Ugh! "You mean Nathan?"

I can feel the vibration of excitement over the line. "Yeah. Nathan. He sits in front of me in calculus and has the coolest eyes. Like emeralds."

"Don't waste your breath, Miranda.

He's not into girls."

13.

From the beginning when the Israelites were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt to the n.a.z.is' attempt to annihilate the Jewish race, Jews have suffered- but in the end have prevailed and become stronger.

They've even overcome G.o.d's anger (Exodus 32:10).

Overcoming obstacles is in my Jewish blood.

"The whole school thinks I'm gay."

I'm standing at my locker, fishing for my U.S. history book. It's in here somewhere.

"Did you say something?" I say sweetly to Nathan, still keeping my attention on the books stacked in my locker.

"Amy."

Oh, there it is. I reach out and grab my book, wondering when Mr. Krazinski will spring a pop quiz on us. Maybe I should take the book home tonight and read it.

Nathan grabs my arm, pulling me away from my locker. "Ouch," I say. He's stronger than I'd ever give him credit for, but it doesn't hurt. I rub my arm for effect.

"I didn't hurt you. Yet."

"What do you want from me, Nathan?

I've got to get to cla.s.s and I'm already late."

He's wearing a stark white b.u.t.ton-down shirt and pleated navy pants. I'm not even concentrating on his lack of fashion sense because I'm trying not to look at his eyes. I keep thinking about that ludicrous comment Miranda said about emeralds.

"I want you to admit you told the entire school I'm gay."

Leaning back against the lockers while avoiding his eyes, I say, "Listen, Nathan. I didn't tell anyone you're gay. I may have said you're not into girls."

"Why, 'cause I'm not into you?"

"That's low, Nathan."

"Oh, I can get lower, Amy. Just try me."

He steps forward and straddles both hands on the lockers behind me, locking me in.

"Look at me."

I'd like to still keep my gaze on the wall opposite him, but that would be cowardly.

I'm anything but a coward. He's tall and close. I can smell spicy cologne radiating off his body. And when I look up, I'm staring straight into his eyes because his gla.s.ses have slipped down. I swallow then say, "What's wrong with people thinking you're gay? Jason Hill is gay and he's probably the most popular guy in school- with girls as well as guys."

"If I was, I wouldn't give a s.h.i.t. But I'm not."

"So tell everyone you're hetero. Just like I have to tell everyone I didn't join a dating service." I shove his arm out of the way and head to cla.s.s, thinking all the while that his personality does not in any way match his looks. It's like dressing a buffalo up as a hyena. It's just not right.

Jessica is in my U.S. history cla.s.s. I sit in my usual spot next to her after being grilled by Mr. Krazinski about why I was late. I lied and said it was a feminine problem and that quieted him real quick.

Jess looks horrible. I'd be surprised if she took a shower this morning, she looks so disheveled. Her brown hair is frizzed out; she's wearing sweats and no makeup. I don't care if she was insensitive to me last night. I need to find out what's going on.

I've been best friends with Jess for twelve years. Our friendship can weather any fight.

I hope.

Now I'm worried. She won't even look in my direction, so I wait until the bell rings to corner her. I swear this school should be called Drama Academy instead of Chicago Academy today.

When the bell rings, Jess grabs her stuff and hurries out of the cla.s.sroom faster than a jackrabbit being chased by a dog. I push the other students out of my way to catch up with her. I'm hearing curses from guys as I shove past them but all I can think about is my friend in trouble.

I find her in the girls' bathroom. "Jess, I know you're in here. I saw you." When I get no answer, I continue. "I admit I've been wrapped up in my own c.r.a.p and have ignored you, but please let's talk about it."

The door to one of the stalls opens. It's Roxanne Jeffries.

With a toss of her red hair and a smirk on her face, she says, "I hear Mitch dumped Jessica for a freshman."

"Shut up, Roxy, or I'll tell people you got implants last summer when you told everyone you went to overnight camp," I hiss.

"You're a b.i.t.c.h," Roxanne says with a huff.

"So I've been told. Now scram. Your perfume is making me ill. Or maybe it's your B.O. that reeks."

Roxanne washes her hands, then storms out of the bathroom.

"You're not a b.i.t.c.h," Jessica's voice bellows from one of the stalls. I can tell from her tone she's been crying. "You're just preoccupied."

"No, I think everyone's right. I'm a b.i.t.c.h because no matter what's going on in my own life, I should never let down my best friend."

Jess pushes open the stall door with bundled-up tissue in her hand. "I'm sorry what I said about you and Avi."

"I'm sorry for not realizing earlier that you're having a crisis. What's up? Is what Roxanne just said true?"

Her eyes get watery and I hand her a paper towel. "Mitch called me before I left for the youth group thing last night. He said he had something important to talk to me about. I tried getting it out of him, but he said we'd just talk later. I asked him if it was good news and he said no."

I bite my bottom lip in fear. "He didn't?"

"Yep. After I got home from the youth group thing I called him. He broke up with me and said he was asking Kailey Pulson to the Valentine's Dance."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Kailey Pulson?

Freshman Kailey Pulson?" Kailey Pulson is a total jock girl.

I think she rock climbs for fun.

Tears run down Jess's cheeks as she nods. "Now what am I gonna do?"

The bell rings again. I'm late for another cla.s.s. "I'll figure something out, Jess. They don't call me your best friend for nothing.

What we have to do is find us both hot dates for the dance. Leave it to me."

Jess sniffles. "To be honest, right now I don't want to go. The last thing I want to do is see Kailey and Mitch together."

She has a point. As I open the door to the bathroom, I turn back and face my best friend. "Then we'll just hang out, the two of us dateless girls. We'll watch DVDs, order pizza, and gossip all night. Sound good?"

"Thanks, Amy," Jess says.

I got to English cla.s.s late because of my chitchat with Jess in the bathroom, but Miss Haskell has a sub so it wasn't a big deal. Can it be a sign of good karma coming my way?

At lunch I pay for the salad bar, then search for Mitch. I'm going to find my old boyfriend and give him a piece of my mind. Jessica told me not to. She wants me to leave him alone but I can't.

"Barbie," a male voice says from behind me. I whip around. Of course it's Nathan. n.o.body else would have the nerve to call me Barbie. Without saying another word, he pulls me close and starts kissing me.

I mean really kissing me. To the point where I drop my food tray and don't even care I've just made a mess on the floor and on my shoes with a mixture of lettuce and vegetables and Thousand Island dressing.

Nathan's soft, inviting lips are open to mine and just when I'm about to pull back and yell at him, he snakes his hand around my waist and pulls me closer.

My brain is telling me to pull away even though my lips are as involved as Nathan's are right now. I grab onto Nathan's biceps and attempt to push him away, but he's too strong and I'm not as determined as I want to be.

Nathan is the one to pull back first, after his gla.s.ses. .h.i.t my face and I wince. He turns to the crowd with a huge grin after he pushes his gla.s.ses up and says, "Fine, I'll go to the Valentine's Dance with you."

Fine? Nothing is fine around here.

The cafeteria is in an uproar with cheers from the guys. I'm still in a daze when the lunchroom lady, Gladys, sees the salad mess on the floor and moves us aside with a look of disgust and comments about PDA rules at Chicago Academy.

When my eyes finally focus, I'm still in shock. Nathan tries to help pick up the mess with Gladys, but she shoos him away with a wave of her hand.

Without a word, I walk through the cafeteria and plop myself down at a lunch table next to an open-mouthed Miranda. I know. I never sit at Miranda's table. I just know Miranda and her friends don't gossip like my friends do. I give her a small smile. Unfortunately Mr. Emerald Eyes follows my lead and sits down next to me.

"Here," he says, shoving a brown bag at me. "It's my lunch. You can have it since you dropped yours."

As if he's a gentleman. Puh leaze.

I look over at Jessica, sitting at the popular girls' table. Less than two hours ago I told her I'd stay home for the Valentine's Dance instead of going. She probably thinks I was lying and I'm hooking up with Nathan.

"I'm not hungry." I bark the words at Nathan. In fact, I don't think I could eat all day after that kiss.