Why do you hate Juliet? I ask Lindsay. Its strange to me that Ive never thought of asking until recently. I always just accepted it.
Elody snorts and almost coughs up her Diet Coke. Are you serious?
Lindsays clearly not prepared for the question. She opens her mouth, closes it, and then tosses her hair and rolls her eyes like she cant believe Im even asking. I dont hate her.
Yes, you do. It was Lindsay who found out that Juliet wasnt sent a single rose freshman year, and Lindsays idea to send her a Valogram. It was Lindsay who nicknamed her Psycho, and who, all those years ago, spread the story of Juliet peeing on the Girl Scout camping trip.
Lindsay stares at me like Ive lost my mind. Sorry, she says, shrugging. No breaks for mental-health patients.
Dont tell me you feel bad for her or something, Elody says. You know she should be locked up.
Bellevue. Ally giggles.
I was just wondering, I say, stiffening when Ally says the B-word. Theres still always the possibility that Ive gone totally, clinically cuckoo. But somehow I dont think so anymore. An article I once read said that crazy people dont worry about being crazythats the whole problem.
So are we really staying in tonight? Ally says, pouting. The whole night?
I suck in my breath and look at Lindsay. Ally and Elody look at her too. She has final say on all of our major decisions. If shes hell-bent on going to Kents, Ill have a hard time getting out of it.
Lindsay leans back in her chair and stares at me. I see something flicker in her eyes, and my heart stops, thinking that shell tell me to suck it up, that a party will do me good.
But instead she cracks a smile and winks at me. Its just a party, she says. Itll probably be lame anyways.
We can rent a scary movie, Elody pipes up. You know, like we used to.
Its up to Sam, Lindsay says. Whatever she wants.
I could kiss her right then.
I cut English with Lindsay again. We pass Alex and Anna in Hunan Kitchen, but today Lindsay doesnt even pause, probably because shes trying extra hard to be nice to me and she knows I hate confrontations.
I hesitate, though. I think of Bridget putting her arms around Alex and looking at him like hes the only guy on earth. Shes annoying, okay, but she deserves way better than him. Its too bad.
Hello? Stalk much? Lindsay says.
I realize Im just standing there staring past the ripped-up flyers advertising five-dollar lunch specials and local theater groups and hair salons. Alex Liment has spotted me through the window. Hes staring straight back at me.
Im coming. It is too bad, but really, what can you do? Live and let live.
In The Countrys Best Yogurt, Lindsay and I both get heaping cups of double chocolate with crushed peanut butter cups, and I add sprinkles and Capn Crunch cereal. I have my appetite back, thats for sure. Everything is working out the way I planned it. There wont be any party tonight, at least not for us; there wont be any driving or cars. Im sure that this will fix everythingthat the kink in time will be ironed out, that Ill wake up from whatever nightmare Ive been living. Maybe Ill sit up, gasping, in a hospital bed somewhere, surrounded by friends and family. I can picture the scene perfectly: my mom and dad tearful, Izzy crying while she hangs on my neck, Lindsay and Ally and Elody and
An image of Kent flashes through my head and I push it away quickly.
And Rob. Of course Rob.
But this is the key, Im sure of it. Live the day out. Follow the rules. Stay away from Kents party. Simple.
Careful. Lindsay grins, shoveling a huge spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. You dont want to be fat and a virgin.
Better than fat with gonorrhea, I say, flicking a chocolate chip at her.
She flicks one back. Are you kidding? Im so clean you could eat off me.
The Lindsay buffet. Does Patrick know youre giving it up like that?
Gross.
Lindsay is wrestling with her jumbo cup, trying to dig out the perfect bite. But were both laughing, and she ends up lobbing a full spoonful of yogurt at me. It hits me right above the left eye.
She gasps and claps one hand over her mouth. The yogurt slides down my face and lands with a plop right on the fur covering my left boob.
I am so, so sorry, Lindsay says, her voice muffled by her hand. Her eyes are wide, and its obvious shes trying not to laugh. Do you think your shirt is ruined?
Not yet, I say, and dig out a big scoop of yogurt and flick it at her. It hits her in the side of her head, right in her hair.
She shrieks, Bitch! and then were ducking around the TCBY hiding behind chairs and tables, digging big scoops of double chocolate and using our spoons like catapults to peg each other.
YOU CANT JUDGE A GYM TEACHER BY HIS HANDLEBAR MUSTACHE
Lindsay and I cant stop cracking up on the way back to school. Its hard to explain, but Im feeling happier than I have in years, like Im noticing everything for the first time: the sharp smell of winter, the light strange and slanted, the way the clouds are drawing over the sky slowly. The fur of our tank tops is completely matted and gross, and we have water stains everywhere. Cars keep honking at us, and we wave and blow them all kisses. A black Mercedes rolls by, and Lindsay bends over, smacks her butt, and screams, Ten dollar! Ten dollar!
I punch her in the arm. That could be my dad.
Sorry to break it to you, but your dad does not drive a Mercedes. Lindsay pushes her hair out of her face. Its stringy and wet. We had to wash off in the bathroom as the woman at TCBY screamed at us and threatened to call the police if we ever stepped foot in the store again.
Youre impossible, I say.
You know you love me, she says, grabbing my arm and huddling up next to me. Were both freezing.
I do love you, I say, and I really mean it. I love her, I love the ugly mustard yellow bricks of Thomas Jefferson and the magenta-tinted halls. I love Ridgeview for being small and boring, and I love everyone and everything in it. I love my life. I want my life.
Love you too, babes.
When we get back to school Lindsay wants to have a cigarette, even though the bell for eighth is going to ring any second.
Two drags, Lindsay says, widening her eyes, and I laugh and let her pull me along because she knows I can never say no to her when she makes that face. The Lounge is empty. We stand right next to the tennis courts, huddled together, while Lindsay tries to get a match lit.
Finally she does, and she takes a long drag, letting a plume of smoke out of her mouth.
A second later we hear a shout from across the parking lot: Hey! You! With the cigarette!
We both freeze. Ms. Winters. Nic Nazi.
Run! Lindsay screams after a split second, dropping her cigarette. She takes off behind the tennis courts even though I yell, Over here! I see the big blond pouf of Ms. Winterss hair bobbing over the carsIm not sure if shes seen us or just heard us laughing. I duck behind a Range Rover and cut across Senior Alley to one of the back doors in the gym as Ms. Winters keeps screaming, Hey! Hey!
I grab the handle and rattle it, but the door sticks. For a second my heart stops, and Im sure its locked, but then I slam up against it and it opens into a storage closet. I jump inside and close the door behind me, heart thumping in my chest. A minute later I hear feet pound past the door. Then I hear Ms. Winters mutter, Shit, and the footsteps start retreating backward.
The whole thingthe day, the fight in The Countrys Best Yogurt, the almost-bust, the idea of Lindsay crouching somewhere in the woods in her skirt and new Steve Madden bootsstrikes me as so funny I have to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. The room Im standing in smells like soccer cleats and jerseys and mud, and with the stack of orange cones and bag full of basketballs piled in the corner, theres barely enough room for me to stand. One side of the room is windowed and it looks into an office: Ottos, probably, since he basically lives in the gym. Ive never actually seen his office. His desk is piled with papers, and theres a computer flashing a screen saver that looks like its a cheesy picture of a beach. I inch closer to the window, thinking how hilarious it would be if I could bust him with something dirty, like some underwear peeking out of a desk drawer or a porn mag or something, when the door of his office swings open and there he is.
Instantly I drop to the ground. I have to scrunch up in a ball, and even then Im paranoid that my ponytail might be peeking up over the windowsill. It sounds stupid considering everything thats been happening, but all I can think in that moment is, If he sees me, Im really dead. Good-bye, Allys house; hello, detention.
My face is sandwiched up next to a half-open duffel bag that looks like its full of old basketball jerseys. I dont know if theyve never been washed or what, but the smell makes me want to gag.
I hear Otto moving around his desk, and Im prayingprayingthat he doesnt come close enough to the desk to see me bellying up to a bunch of old sports equipment. I can already hear the rumors: Samantha Kingston found humping drivers ed cones.
Theres a minute or two of shuffling, and my legs start cramping. The first bell has already rung for eighthless than three minutes to classbut theres no way for me to sneak out. The door is noisy, and besides, I have no way to know which direction hes facing. He could be staring at the door.
My only hope is that Otto has class eighth, but it doesnt sound like hes in a hustle to be anywhere. I imagine being trapped here until school ends. The stink alone will finish me off.
I hear Ottos door creak open again, and I perk up, thinking hes leaving after all. But then a second voice says, Damn. I missed them.
I would recognize that nasal whine anywhere. Ms. Winters.
Smokers? Otto says. His voice is almost as high-pitched as hers. I had no idea they even knew each other. The only times Ive ever seen them in the same room are at all-school assemblies, when Ms. Winters sits next to Principal Beneter looking like someone just set off a stink bomb directly under her chair, and Otto sits with the special ed teachers and the health instructor and the drivers ed specialist and all the other weirdos who are on faculty but arent real teachers.
Do you know that the students call that little area the Smokers Lounge? I can almost hear Ms. Winters pinching her nose.
Did you get a look at them? Otto asks, and my muscles tense.
Not a good one. I could hear them and I smelled the smoke.