Deep Green: Color Me Jealous with Bonus Content

by Melody Carlson

  But here’s something that happened that kind of made my day. Shawna actually came up to talk to me after the assembly.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Jordan, and I just wanted to apologize to you for all the crud I pulled. I’m sorry.”

  Now call me skeptical or just slightly paranoid, but at first I wasn’t totally sure that this wasn’t just another one of her tricks. But when I looked into her eyes, I could see them getting watery and I could tell she was about to cry.

  “Thanks,” I told her. “I appreciate that. And, really, I’m sorry too.”

  “This really blows, you know.” She shook her head and watched as the somber crowd exited the gym.

  “Yeah, I know. I feel bad for both you and Timothy.”

  “I’m actually starting to feel a little bit sorry for Timothy myself—well, when I’m not consumed with anger, that is.”

  “I’m sure he’s pretty bummed.”

  “Well, I’ll bet you’re feeling pretty lucky, eh? Like you missed a bullet?”

  “I’m mostly just thankful to God. I think he was watching over me.”

  “Nice that he watches over some of us.” I could hear the cut in her voice.

  “Well, I was asking for his help,” I explained. “It’s not like he’s going to force anyone to do anything. You have to be willing, you know.”

  “Actually, I don’t know.”

  “Well, maybe you’d like to hear more about it sometime.”

  She seemed to consider this. “Yeah, maybe.” Then she walked off, and I heard Ashley yelling at me to hurry up if I wanted a ride home.

  “Go on without me,” I called out to her. “I’m getting a ride with Kara.”

  She stopped and looked at me like I had just announced that I was catching the next UFO shuttle to Jupiter. “What?”

  “I’m getting a ride with Kara Hendricks.”

  She walked up and looked at me like I had an eyeball hanging out of its socket. “You mean Kara, the art freak, Hendricks?”

  I nodded. “Actually, Edgar Peebles is driving. We’re going out for coffee.”

  “Man, first the whole freaking school is falling apart and now you’re flipping out on us too, Ferguson.” She sadly shook her head as she walked away, probably on her way to let my other so-called friends know that I was losing it. But at least Lucy would get it.

  I had a great visit with Kara and Edgar at Jitters. Edgar announced that Timothy Lawrence now holds the number-one position on his prayer list.

  “Who’d you have to bump?” I asked.

  He pointed his finger in my direction.

  “Oh.”

  “But don’t worry, I’ll still be praying for you.” He smiled. “I pray for all my friends.”

  “Well, if your prayers for Timothy are as successful as they were for me, he’ll be in good hands.”

  Because that’s just how it feels to me, like my life is finally in good hands. I cringe to remember what a mess I made of my life, all for the love of a boy. Or at least what I thought was love. Now I’m not so sure what it was. Maybe it was infatuation or delusion or perhaps even my old obsessive-compulsive nature. Or maybe it was just plain and simple jealousy. Whatever it was, I’m thankful that it’s over and that I won’t be going back there again.

  reader’s guide

  1. Jordan begins dating Timothy immediately after he breaks up with her best friend, Shawna. Do you think this was okay? Why or why not?

  2. Do you think Jordan really cared about Timothy, or was she just trying to climb the social ladder? Explain.

  3. Jordan mentions her obsessive-compulsive tendencies several times. Do you think this affected how she felt about Timothy?

  4. Jordan abandoned her best friend, Kara Hendricks, in Dark Blue. What does she learn about friendship in Deep Green?

  5. Jordan is tempted to have sex with Timothy in order to keep him. Do you think it would’ve worked? Why or why not?

  6. Why was Jordan’s life falling apart on every level? Obsession over Timothy? Bad choices? Lack of good friends?

  7. How do you think Jordan’s self-image changed during the course of the story? Improved? Deteriorated?

  8. Why was Jordan so determined to get Timothy back?

  9. What does it really mean to be “in love”?

  10. What was Jordan’s deepest need? What’s yours?

  TrueColors Book 3:

  Torch Red

  Coming in July 2004

  The story of a young woman who’s pretty sure she’s the only virgin in

  her school—maybe even in the world.

  One

  MY LIFE IS PATHETIC. REALLY. IT’S EMBARRASSING, HUMILIATING, TOTALLY Loserville. I mean, I can’t even admit this to anyone—outside of my family, that is—but I actually spent this New Year’s Eve babysitting. Babysitting! Now how lame is that? I mean, it was okay when I was thirteen or fourteen and needed to make a few extra bucks. But I am sixteen, for Pete’s sake. Sixteen and three-quarters, to be precise, and I didn’t even have a date for New Year’s Eve.

  And as long as it’s time for true confessions, the sorry truth is that I’ve never even had a real honest-to-goodness boyfriend. Oh, there have been a couple of guys who’ve asked me out in the past year, and I actually “went steady” with Clark Harris back in middle school, but then we never even kissed. Now here I am, a junior in high school, soon to be seventeen, and I don’t even have a boyfriend. So I ask you, what is wrong with me?

  Oh, yeah, I know I’m not drop-dead gorgeous like Andrea Boswell (she could be a professional model) or that airhead cheerleader Kirsti Quackenbush, but I’m not exactly chopped liver either. And compared to some girls who date regularly, I’m really not that bad-looking. It helped getting my braces off last fall, and I haven’t even had that many zits this year. My friend Emily Schuler says I look like Winona Ryder, and I’m thinking she may be on to something since I’ve got those same kind of dark brown eyes and straight brunette hair—although I’m not into shoplifting.

  And I have to admit there are boys who do give me second looks and have even come on to me at times. But unfortunately they’re usually the kinds of boys I wouldn’t give a second glance anyway—guys like Spence Harding and Aaron Place. It’s not that they’re losers, exactly, but they don’t really seem to be “boyfriend material” to me. Not that I have a right to be that picky. But I really don’t want to go out with a guy who is, shall we say, second rate. I know that’s totally shallow and pretty ridiculous, considering I just spent New Year’s Eve babysitting, but I suppose I have higher hopes.

  What gives me the right to nurture these high hopes? Well, I suppose that’s the problem with being “marginally popular.” You see, I kind of hang with a pretty cool bunch of kids. This is mostly due to my best friend, Emily (who is a cheerleader, although I’m not). And so I suppose I have this idea that if (and that’s turning into a pretty big if these days) I ever date anyone, it should be someone from within that same circle of friends.

  Now, I know this is pretty stupid (did I mention shallow?) but it’s like I’m in this trap and I don’t really see any way out of it. And you know what really makes it seem totally absurd and crazy, or like I’m on some sort of beat-myself-up trip? Well, there’s this one particular guy that I’ve had this sort of secret crush on for years. His name is Nate Stein, but he’s really an outsider. Not because he’s not good-looking, because he is. In fact, he looks a little like Orlando Bloom—not with the blond braids as Legolas in The Lord of the Rings, but the way he normally looks with his brown hair and sultry eyes. The problem is that he’s really into religion, or so I hear. And for whatever reason, that’s just not cool with my crowd.

  As a result, girls like Kirsti, or even Andrea and Emily, who actually are pretty nice, would never in a million years give a guy like Nate the time of day. But ever since he and I were in band together back in middle school, I’ve always thought he was kind of cool (and that was before Orlando became hot). But would I go out wi
th Nate now that I’m in high school? Probably not. Now, really, how pathetic is that? I suppose I really am a shallow person. And I probably deserve exactly the kind of life I’m living.

  It’s just that I’ve had this brief reprieve during winter break. My dad decided to take our family on a ski trip to Colorado during Christmas, and it was so amazing to be away from all the crud and pressure at school. But now it’s time to go back, and it’s seriously getting me down. I get so bummed when I think about the disgusting things that are said in the girls’ locker room every single day of the school year. And as if that’s not bad enough, I feel ashamed about how I’ve turned into such a big fat liar this year. But how do I get out of it?

  Oh, I know my lies were simply a means of survival, and you’d think in time it’d blow over. But it’s like this thing I just can’t seem to shake. I mean, it all started out innocently enough. It was early September, just shortly after school started. We were in the locker room getting dressed after fourth-period PE, and it seemed like every girl had to show off her new Victoria’s Secret underwear—or Gap or whatever (although some girls actually clip off the labels, like if their moms bought their “unmentionables” at JCPenney or Wal-Mart). And, as usual, this underwear talk quickly led to other kinds of talk—okay, sex talk, to be precise.

  Now when it comes to sex talk, some girls are more subtle and rely more on innuendo (meaning they act like they’re saying something big, but you can never really pin them down or prosecute them based on their actual words). Andrea is an expert at this, as is Emily. But that is only since late last summer when she actually lost her virginity to her current boyfriend, Todd Barker. Before that, she didn’t get involved in this kind of talk at all.

  But then there are girls like Kirsti and her best friend, Thea Weller, who don’t mind telling all (and I mean every skanky detail) to anyone who will listen. And let me tell you, it can get pretty disgusting at times.

  “I just don’t see what the big deal is,” said Kirsti, who in my opinion has been a tramp since middle school. “It’s just like kissing,” then she giggled, “only using different body parts.”

  “Eeww!” said Emily as she threw her wet towel at Kirsti. “Too much information!” I tossed Emily an appreciative glance meant to convey, “Thanks for voicing my opinion exactly,” as I shimmied into my jeans and quickly buttoned them before anyone noticed that I wasn’t wearing a thong that day. (I happen to think they’re uncomfortable.)

  “Don’t be such a prude,” said Kirsti as she threw the towel back at Emily. “Everyone does it.”

  “Everyone does not,” said Andrea as she adjusted what had to be the coolest bra in the locker room that day. Obviously Victoria’s Secret and, I suspect, slightly padded, maybe with gel or water or whatever it is they put in those things. Thankfully, I don’t need that kind of help.

  Thea rolled her eyes at Andrea. “Well, everyone knows you’re too much of a goody-good girl to have any real fun when it comes to guys. Lucky for you that Jamie doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “Yeah,” said Kirsti, “but you’d better watch out, Andrea, or some other babe might come along and give your boy toy a run for his money.” Then she made a loud slurping noise and laughed.

  “You’re disgusting,” said Emily as she pulled on her T-shirt.

  Kirsti laughed. “Poor Emily,” she said with mocking sarcasm. “We shouldn’t be so shocking when there are virgins around.”

  Well, all eyes were on Emily just then. Okay, maybe some were on me too. But I got seriously nervous as I realized that Emily was no longer a virgin—which meant I would be the only virgin left in this big-mouthed circle of so-called friends. I think I actually began to sweat just then. Fortunately, my deodorant was nearby and I pretended to be completely absorbed in applying layer upon layer to my damp armpits. I did this with such focused perfection that I might’ve been auditioning for a Secret antiperspirant ad.

  “You don’t know everything about me, Kirsti,” said Emily in a slightly taunting voice. “Unlike some people, I don’t go around blabbering about the private details of my sex life to the entire student body.”

  “Yeah.” I could hear the disbelief in Kirsti’s voice. “And we all know why you don’t.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Emily, hoping and maybe even praying that she wouldn’t spill the beans. But it was too late.

  “Fine,” said Emily. “If you must know, I’m not a virgin anymore. There.” She glanced around. “Are you happy now?”

  Thea put her arm around Emily’s shoulders and smiled, and I could tell by her expression that she already knew about Emily’s little secret. Still, it was weird the way Thea looked sort of like this proud mother, like Emily had just learned to ride a bike. Or maybe it was like they were in some special club together, with a secret handshake and everything. And then there was Emily, just smiling like she’d received a national honor or college scholarship or maybe even the Nobel Peace Prize. I just stared at them in amazement.

  “Emily has officially joined the ranks of womanhood,” Thea announced to everyone within earshot in the locker room. Several girls clapped and cheered.

  “No way,” said Kirsti.

  “Way.” Emily firmly nodded.

  Kirsti frowned at Thea now. “How come you never told me?”

  Thea put a finger to her lips and then winked at Emily. “Sworn to silence.”

  “I still don’t believe it.” Kirsti’s eyes narrowed as she turned back to Emily.

  “Whatever.” Emily just shrugged like Kirsti’s opinion was no big deal.

  “You and Todd really did it?” asked Andrea.

  “Well, it wasn’t me and Zoë,” said Emily as she laughed and nodded in my direction. Thanks a lot, I was thinking. I mean, not only did that stupid comment make me look totally lame, it was a reminder to the other girls that I was still there and, worse than that, still a virgin. But worst of all, I was now the only virgin in our group—perhaps the only virgin in our entire school, maybe even the planet. As I tugged on my sock, I vaguely wondered if there might be some tribe out on a deserted island somewhere who might pay good money for a real honest-to-goodness virgin—perhaps I could be used as a sacrifice somewhere to appease a volcano god or something.

  I wasn’t really paying too much attention to my friends’ conversation after Emily’s little announcement. Oh, I knew they were all congratulating Emily on her recent accomplishment. Like she’d done something really great. Yeah, right.

  “So it’s just Zoë now,” said Thea in what actually sounded like a sympathetic voice. “The only one left.” She patted me on my head as I tied my shoe. “Our little girl.”

  Well, that just got me. And it was then and there I decided that the only way out of this thing was to lie—simply and believably. And so I did.

  I looked right up at Thea and, using my best poker face, told a whopper. “What makes you think that?”

  “Huh?” Now Andrea turned around and looked at me with wide eyes. “Really? You too?”

  Our area of the locker room got a lot quieter and I felt my friends all staring at me now. Without even blinking, I returned their looks (although I avoided Emily completely). I mean, if anyone could blow my cover, it would be my best friend. Just the same, I decided to risk it. I nodded at Andrea and then shrugged as if it were nothing. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

  “No way,” said Kirsti as she sat down on the bench beside me. “You’re making this up, Zoë.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Yeah, like I would make this up.”

  “When?” demanded Thea. “With who?”

  “Last summer,” I lied like an expert. “Remember when I went to California to visit my grandma?”

  “No way,” said Kirsti again. “You met a guy in California?”

  I smiled and nodded. “Yeah. A surfer.”

  “No way!” shrieked Kirsti. “You did it with a surfer dude?”

  “I don’t believe you,” said Thea. “What’s his name?”

&nbs
p; “Daniel Englewood,” I said without even blinking an eyelash. It was actually the name of a little neighbor boy that I’d babysat a couple of times while staying at my grandma’s house, which, by the way, wasn’t even close to a beach. “He was tan and blond and really buff.” Then I actually sighed as if the memory was making me light-headed. “Daniel was so incredibly cool. I really miss him.”

  “Way to go,” said Kirsti, patting me on the back.

  “Yeah,” agreed Thea, apparently convinced. “Was he good? Did you do it on the beach?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, standing up and looking at everyone, except Emily, who I knew could see right through me. “But it was more than just the sex, you know. He was really nice too. We were together the whole time I was in California. We promised to write.”

  “Do you love him?” asked Andrea.

  I pretended to consider this. “I’m not sure,” I finally said. “But he was a cool guy—a great first, you know.”

  It wasn’t until Emily was giving me a ride home later that she questioned my little story. “You never told me about this Daniel guy, Zoë,” she said as she drove away from school.

  I just shrugged and looked out the window. “Everyone has some secrets.”

  “But I’m your best friend,” she reminded me. “I told you all about Todd, practically the next day.”

  “Well, that was different,” I told her. “You and Todd had been going together a long time. I guess I was a little embarrassed about my fling with Daniel, since I’d just met him, you know, and he lives so far away.”