Out with the In Crowd

by Stephanie Morrill

  Five minutes later, I’d caught them.

  How could I trust Connor on this? Guys could be really stupid when it came to beautiful girls. And Connor didn’t know Jodi like I did. He didn’t know how she obsessed over, thirsted for, revenge. He didn’t know I used to help her plan her assaults. Fine by me. Connor knew about a lot of my junk, witnessed some of it firsthand, but I told him things strictly on a need-to-know basis. Surely even he had limits on how much of my past he could overlook.

  Abbie paused the blow-dryer when I returned to our bathroom. “Was Connor mad?”

  “No, he was fine.”

  She sighed. “He’s so nice.”

  Yes, he was. Maybe too nice.

  During American History, I focused every mite of my attention on Mr. Huntley’s lecture about the cotton gin. I never even glanced at Connor, though in my peripheral I often caught him watching me.

  “Are you mad at me?” he murmured halfway into class. “I’m focused,” I said.

  I didn’t mean to be snotty, or an “ice princess,” like he’d said. I just lacked the energy for dealing with him. I had a mom who wanted me to move with her to Hawaii, a dad who thought she’d still come home, and a sister deciding whether or not to keep my niece. That left very little time to obsess about who my boyfriend might be crushing on.

  “So are we gonna talk or what?” Connor asked as I packed away my history textbook.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  He sighed. “Don’t do this.”

  “I’m not doing anything.” I looked at Eli and John, who blatantly eavesdropped. They turned away at my glare.

  Connor, of course, didn’t allow them to inhibit him. “What happened to the girl who used to yell at me every two minutes? Who told me everything she felt? Everything she thought I should feel?”

  I hitched my bag over my shoulder. “She sounds kind of obnoxious.”

  “I liked her.” He brushed my chin with his fingertip, a strangely intimate gesture for him, especially at school. “Please. Let’s just talk about this so we can move on.”

  I headed for the door, away from Eli and John. Connor fell into step with me. I weighed my options as we walked— if I didn’t talk to him about this, it would fester and we’d break up. The results of talking about it couldn’t be any worse than that, could they?

  “Jodi just makes me nervous.” I squeezed my binder against my chest, hoping to conceal my trembling hands. “I mean, I hope she’s being sincere with all this church stuff, but I can’t shake my fear that somehow this is all . . .”

  “All what?”

  “All some plan to get back at me.”

  Connor’s forehead wrinkled. “Get back at you for what?”

  “For dating you.”

  “But why would she care about me? She’s dating Eli.”

  “But why would she “It’s complicated.”

  “Sounds like it.” He laced his fingers through mine. “You know what I think?”

  I cringed. “What?”

  “Now, why would you make that face? Why do you assume what I’m going to say is bad?”

  “Instinct.”

  He slowed to a stop as we reached our parting hallways. “All I was going to say is that I think you’re being a little paranoid because of what happened with Jodi and Eli, but that’s a totally different situation. Okay, why the sour face?”

  “Do me a favor. Don’t use the word paranoid.”

  He cocked his head. “Why not?”

  “Just . . .” Nope. Not ready to talk to him about Eli. “Just don’t.”

  “Whatever you want.” He brought my hand to his mouth and brushed it with a light kiss. “See you in PreCal.”

  When I entered English, I found Jodi and Alexis huddled together same as last week, only this time, Jodi grinned and waved. “You can sit with us if you want.”

  She appeared sincere. Alexis narrowed her eyes. Understandable. When I left the group, everybody bumped up one step, Jodi to my former spot as queen and Alexis into Jodi’s role. So of course Alexis didn’t want Jodi and me getting chummy again. It might mean a downgrade.

  “It’s okay.” I plopped my stuff on the desk I’d used all last week.

  I thought Jodi would let it drop, would return to her conversation with Alexis and accept that we’d parted ways. Instead she walked over to me. “Are you going to youth group tomorrow night?” Her fingernails danced on my desk, so I knew she felt nervous.

  “I don’t know.” I pulled Wuthering Heights from my bag. “Why?”

  “Eli said he doesn’t want to go, and I’m afraid to go by myself.” She shrugged. “I thought it’d be nice if you and Connor were there.”

  Seriously? She was inviting me to my own youth group event?

  “I don’t know what Connor told you, but I’ve been going to youth group.” Okay, I couldn’t stand to blatantly lie. “I mean, not always, but I plan to this semester.”

  “Great.” Jodi turned her smile on Madison as she approached. “Hey, Madison. Great sweater.”

  Madison gave her a wary look. “Thanks.”

  “See you later.” Jodi waved, then bounced back to a sulking Alexis.

  “So, that was weird,” Madison said as she took her seat.

  So Madison could see it too! Victory surged through me. “I know, right? She’s up to something. It’s obvious.”

  She shrugged. “Or maybe Jodi’s changing. After all, I never believed you would.”

  Madison had a point. I returned to my book, deflated.

  “So your mom actually thinks there’s a chance of you and Abbie packing up and moving? Maybe . . .” Connor paused for a breath. He opened his mouth, then shook his head and closed it. “Nope. Can’t think of any way that could possibly make sense. She thinks you should finish school over there? That Abbie should find a new doctor?”

  I shrugged and tipped back my water. “Guess so.”

  “That’s crazy. You told her that, right?”

  “Yeah.” Hadn’t I? It all seemed a little hazy after she dropped the Kauai bomb.

  Connor grinned. “I wish I could’ve been there when you told Abbie. I bet she was furious.”

  “I didn’t tell her.” I stabbed at my salad. I didn’t have to look at Connor to know this confused him. “Abbie’s kinda . . . well, she’s wrestling with some big stuff right now. It seemed insensitive to tell her about Mom.”

  I looked up and found him studying my face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re not . . .”

  “I’m not what?”

  He placed his sandwich on the tray and folded his arms on the table. “You’re not thinking about going, are you?” “Of course not! Start a new school second semester senior year? That sounds horrible. How can you think I’d do that? I mean, I’d never even consider it.” I forced myself to clamp my jaw shut. How’d that Shakespearean thing go, about protesting too much? I might as well have waved a huge banner saying, Part of me wants out of here!

  Connor shrugged. “You’ve been talking a lot about fresh starts and getting away from everything.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” But a sense of dread filled me. What if that was truer than I’d like it to be?

  He picked up his sandwich. “I just wondered, is all. Thought your mom’s offer might have been a little appealing.”

  I rolled a couple cherry tomatoes to the side of my plate, where I’d be sure not to eat them. It also kept me from having to look at Connor as I asked, “Would you miss me?”

  “You kidding?” I peeked up in time to see his face bloom into a smile, slow and sweet. “I’m starting to wonder how I lived without you.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. All that awkwardness of the last week—prompted by my weird freak-out to the news of Eli and Jodi getting back together—melted away.

  “I wonder how you did too,” I said with a wink.

  And we were back to being us. Skylar and Connor, so mismatched it somehow worked.

  “
You guys mind if we sit here?”

  I looked up at the couple invading our moment. What can you say when there are five empty spaces at your table?

  Even as I said, “Sure,” Jodi and Eli had already claimed a couple chairs. I imagined they couldn’t conceive of a Shawnee Mission High student who wouldn’t welcome them at their lunch table. How embarrassing that I’d been like them not so long ago.

  “I nearly fell asleep during English class. What about you, Skylar?” Jodi unscrewed the cap on her juice bottle. “Wuthering Heights is, like, so boring.”

  “You think anything that’s not People magazine is boring,” Eli said.

  Jodi giggled and elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up. I do not.”

  John took the seat next to Connor. Great. We had a full invasion on our hands. I inched closer to Connor.

  “I hate that blonde cashier,” John said, his tray clattering to the table. “She always gives me attitude.”

  “You think everyone gives you attitude,” Jodi said.

  “You think everyone gives “Well, she really does.”

  Eli nodded at Jodi. “She does. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

  I glanced at Connor and found him already looking at me, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Beneath the table, he pressed his knee against mine. We’re in this together, he seemed to say.

  Alexis had already set her tray on the other side of John when she spotted me. “Oh.” She blinked her heavily shadowed eyes. “Hi.”

  My smile might not have been friendly, but at least I smiled. “Hey.”

  She pressed her freshly painted lips into a line as she took a seat.

  “Where’s Lisa?” Jodi asked, pretending not to notice the tension between us.

  Alexis made her characteristic humph. “Probably harassing one of the cafeteria workers about the lack of nonfat salad dressings.”

  Jodi and I weren’t the only friends who’d broken up last semester. Alexis and Lisa used to be the perfect picture of bff, but all that changed when Alexis started dating John on the sly. Lisa and John had been together off and on since junior year.

  Yes, the time had definitely come for us all to part ways. Our clique, formed freshman year, had become far too incestuous.

  Jodi popped a potato chip into her mouth. “It’s good to be health conscious. I probably should be.”

  I glanced at Eli, half hoping he wouldn’t take the bait.

  But Eli had perfected the art of being a boyfriend. Except when it came to lusting after his girlfriend’s best friend. “What are you talking about?” He pinched Jodi’s skinny side. “What you should do is go back for another bag of chips. You’re too skinny.”

  Jodi flushed, clearly pleased.

  “You’re, like, the perfect size,” Alexis added. Suck-up. “Lisa, on the other hand—”

  “Oh, knock it off.” John sounded disgusted. “There’s nothing wrong with the way Lisa looks.”

  Alexis’s lips puckered, but of course she’d invited the opportunity for John’s comment.

  Ah . . . how nice not to belong to this group, to no longer base my self-worth on their opinions. Good thing too, because judging by Alexis’s cold gaze, she didn’t think much of me.

  Lisa slid into the remaining seat beside me and smiled. “Well, look at this. We’re all back together.”

  This earned me another glare from Alexis, though this one also seemed to be for Lisa.

  Lisa didn’t appear to notice. She’d probably gotten used to it by now. “So, I hate that blonde cashier.”

  John laughed. “She’s horrible, isn’t she?”

  “I feel sorry for her,” Lisa said, chomping into a carrot. “Putting out such a rotten vibe? She’s gonna have horrible karma.”

  John responded with an enthusiastic nod.

  Even with Alexis’s rude behavior, I kinda felt sorry for her. Sure, she shouldn’t have dated John in the first place, and yeah, she’d been giving me the evil eye ever since Jodi and I fell apart. But I knew how much it sucked to watch your boyfriend flirt with another girl. Even if he did it unintentionally.

  Connor nudged me. “Jodi asked how Abbie’s doing.”

  I glanced across the table and found a polite smile pasted on Jodi’s face. “Sorry. She’s doing fine.”

  “Connor said she’s having a girl. Is she excited?”

  I thought of Abbie scrolling through the adoption website. “It’s hard to say.”

  “I bet you’re glad you didn’t plan on going away to college.”

  I shrugged. “I guess so.”

  Jodi took a dainty sip of her juice. “I’d want to stick around if I was about to have a niece. I love babies.”

  My throat constricted as I thought of Abbie handing her baby girl over to a strange, faceless couple. I didn’t love babies, but oddly, I already loved this one.

  But of course it was easy for me to want to keep the baby, wasn’t it? It wouldn’t be me pouring out my life. Abbie would be the one making the sacrifices.

  “Speaking of college,” Eli said, “I guess we’ll all be hearing soon.”

  “What’s everybody’s top choice?” Connor asked.

  And while they listed their schools—Kansas, Kansas, Vanderbilt, UNC, and Kansas—my mind filled with swaying palm trees, azure waters, golden beaches. Connor had been right to say I’d been craving a fresh start. Could I really turn down the one Mom wanted to hand to me?

  9

  On my way out of the cafeteria, Lisa caught up with me. “Can I talk to you?”

  The last time Lisa sought me out for a conversation, she dropped the bomb that Eli and Jodi had gotten back together. Her words made me nervous.

  Lisa must’ve noticed this, because she laughed. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to thank you.”

  “Thank me?” I searched my brain for anything I might have done. “For what?”

  “Do you remember back in October when you found Alexis and me fighting about John?”

  My face heated at the memory. “Uh, yeah.” It had happened the morning after I discovered Eli had fooled around with Jodi at homecoming. I’d completely lost control with my friends, calling them—if memory served correctly—the most self-absorbed people I’d ever met. What a shining moment. Like the total opposite of what Jesus would’ve done. “Well, I was kinda mad at you at first, but later I thought about what you said. You know, how it was stupid for Alexis and me to be fighting because I wasn’t really in love with John?” Lisa shrugged and popped her gum. “That made a lot of sense to me. And I’ve been watching you. You really are different now.”

  I shifted, oddly uncomfortable. “Thanks.”

  “I mean, the old you never would have put up with Jodi and Eli getting back together.” Lisa waved at some guy as he passed by and said to him, “You better let me cheat today. I can’t afford another failed test.”

  “Then maybe you should study,” he said with a wink.

  Lisa laughed, then turned back to me. “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

  I smiled. I’d missed Lisa. Sure, she was ditzy, and her clothes often looked like they’d been spray-painted on, but she had a warmth about her. I always felt accepted around Lisa.

  “You were saying the old me would’ve been mad about Eli and Jodi. I really don’t like him anymore, so it’s easy.”

  “But remember before you guys started dating? You were constantly chasing girls away from him, even though you didn’t want to date him yourself.” Lisa smiled, looking nostalgic. “I used to be like that too with John. But I don’t want to do that anymore.” She took a deep, cleansing breath, like in yoga. “It’s very freeing, you know. Releasing him. Moving on. I stopped feeling sad about school ending. I’m ready for something new. Aren’t you?”

  Once again the palm trees in my mind swayed in the tropical breeze.

  I’d been thirteen my last time in Hawaii. Grammy and Papa lived in a tiny bungalow in Kapaa, Kauai. I remembered that stepping into that house was like stepping back in t
ime—paneled walls and fringed lamp shades. The whole place smelled like dust and mildew, and I couldn’t help wrinkling my nose when I walked in. Dad had taken me aside and given me a five-minute lecture about respect.

  But the house hadn’t mattered much because the only time we spent inside was to sleep. Otherwise Abbie and I were in our bathing suits on the beach. What I wouldn’t give to be there now, away from the frozen, barren land of Kansas, away from the drama. It wasn’t like going to Hawaii meant staying there forever. Maybe I could just go for the summer, get away for a bit.

  But Connor . . .

  “I’d be ready for something new, except . . .”

  Lisa grinned. “Except for a certain baseball player?”

  Lisa grinned. “Except for a certain baseball My face warmed. “Something like that.”

  “How funny. You spent all of high school hanging out with guys you didn’t care about, and now—last semester— you’ve got Connor.” She pointed down a hallway. “Gotta get going. Just wanted to tell you thanks.”

  “See ya,” I said.

  As I walked the short distance to study hall, I turned Lisa’s words over in my mind. She was right—I had Connor. How could I seriously consider leaving the one person who supported me when most everyone else mocked?

  The answer was simple—I couldn’t.

  “You’re quiet,” I observed as I drove Abbie and myself home.

  Abbie fiddled with a button on her jacket. “That’s because I’m trying to figure out how to tell you I’m giving the baby up for adoption.”

  I stiffened. So she’d decided. Those images I’d indulged— holding my niece for the first time, taking her shopping— wouldn’t happen. It had been stupid anyway, letting myself get attached. Hadn’t I learned my lesson about not getting my hopes up? But something about babies made it impossible to avoid feeling excited.

  “Please don’t be mad,” Abbie said, and I realized I’d just been sitting there in silence.