by Pamela Wells
“Actually numbers fourteen and nineteen,” Alexia said. “You’re not supposed to mention the name of your friend’s Ex or mention seeing him.”
“She asked me, though!” Kelly said. “Was I supposed to lie?”
Raven and Alexia looked at each other.
“Well…” Alexia said.
Raven shrugged.
“I vote for an amendment,” Kelly said.
Alexia pulled her Breakup Code journal from her bag and flipped it open. “We probably should. Lying is wrong. How about, ‘Rule twenty-eight: Do not lie to your girl about The Ex even if it breaks a rule.’?”
“That sounds good,” Sydney said.
“Perfect.” Kelly nodded.
“Now I have to mess up my journal,” Raven mused as she wrote the new rules on a piece of paper. “And I had it looking so good.”
“What is wrong with you today?” Sydney asked.
Raven grimaced. “I’m just tired. I already told you that.”
“Being tired makes you goofy, not mean.”
Which was true, Alexia thought but wasn’t about to say out loud.
Sighing, Raven tilted her head back with obvious mental exhaustion. “I’m just…confused…about some stuff.”
“Like what?” Sydney coaxed.
Raven shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Yet.”
“It’s a guy, isn’t it?” Alexia raised a brow knowingly. She knew that crazed look Raven got when she was thinking about a guy she liked, except this time, it seemed like she was afraid of acknowledging the crush out loud or even to herself. Maybe that’s why she was in such a bad mood.
Instead of answering the question, Raven stood up and shoved the chair back. It groaned over the tile floor. “I have to go to the bathroom.” She didn’t wait for a reaction or response, just bolted out of the room.
“Should we go after her?” Kelly said. “Maybe we shouldn’t have confronted her with the topic of boys.”
Sydney shook her head. “We should let her cool off.”
“It’s obviously a boy,” Alexia groaned. “But you guys don’t think she’s back with Caleb, do you?”
“Better not be,” Sydney retorted. “Caleb is a bonehead and Raven knows that now that they aren’t together. It has to be someone else.”
Alexis capped her pen and slid it into the spiral of her notebook. “Maybe the new rule about not developing any new crushes put her in a bad mood.”
“Except she was snarky before you even mentioned the new rule,” Kelly pointed out.
“True.” Sydney nodded, taking her mug in hand. “I think she’s fighting this crush because of The Code and that’s what’s putting her in a bad mood.”
“If that’s the case, it might actually be good for her,” Alexia said.
More rules to follow? Raven grunted, grabbing a Kleenex and blowing her nose. She’d been doing so well with the rules until Horace had to make things more complicated. She was pretty sure she’d broken rule twenty-seven before it was even invented.
There was no more denying it, she was crushing on Horace and crushing hard. That’s not to say she was going to act on it.
No.
No.
No.
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
Horace was the best guy friend a girl could ever ask for. Screwing that up would be beyond horrible. It’d be a tragedy, because she’d never get him back if—no, when—they broke up. As forgiving as he was, there was no way he’d survive the Raven Wreaker and come out with a smile on his face.
Which was the whole reason for her bad mood. She couldn’t have the one guy she wanted. Probably the crush was worse for that reason. It was natural to want something you couldn’t have, and that turned her into a mega bitch. She hadn’t meant to let the bad mood spill over onto her friends. It just came out, but she knew they’d understand as long as she removed herself right now, before her foul mood got the best of her.
Leaving the bathroom, she went back to the kitchen. Her arrival shushed the room. They’d been talking about her. Her face flamed with embarrassment. She should explain, that’s what friends were for, but she didn’t feel like talking about it right now. About Horace. She didn’t want to talk about anything. Maybe she’d go home and hang the blinds up on her windows since her dad hadn’t made a visit to their house in ages. Hanging blinds was a great distraction, wasn’t it?
“Hey,” she said, shifting her eyes down for a second. “I’m sorry about the bad mood, you guys. I’m just gonna jet before I ruin your day.”
“Ray,” Alexia said, “you don’t have to leave.”
“Yeah.” Kelly nodded. “Stay.”
She shook her head, grabbing her bag from the table. “I need some silence. You know?”
Kelly stood and gave her a hug. “If you need us, call, okay?”
“I will. Thanks.”
Kelly shrugged. “What are friends for?”
TWENTY-ONE
Rule 21: You must always look beyond extraordinary in the company of The Ex.
The next weekend, Kelly got a call from Morris at the animal shelter asking her to come in an hour early. She’d agreed, but the loss of an hour was throwing her completely off schedule.
“Where are my crappy clothes?” she yelled up the basement stairs.
“You have special crappy clothes?” Todd appeared at the top of the steps. “I thought all of your clothes were crappy clothes.”
“Ha-ha,” she muttered as she picked through three laundry baskets full of clean clothes. Her mother always had the laundry done. But this week, she’d been busy putting together a baby shower for one of her friends, so the laundry was behind. Kelly had only thirty minutes before her shift started. That wasn’t enough time to wash and dry her crappy clothes. Well, crappy as in she only wore them to the shelter, but they were still okay clothes. Just a pair of old jeans and an old Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt. Crappy, but still fashionable.
“Whatchya doin’?” Monica asked as she made her way down the basement steps. She was still in her pajamas, a pair of shorts and a tank top that said BRAT across the front in gold glitter. Her sandy-blond hair was in a tight French braid.
“Looking for my clothes.”
Monica went to the overflowing dirty clothes hamper. “These ones?” she said, holding up a pair of jeans that had dog hair all over them.
“Yes.” Kelly sighed, plopping her butt on the floor. She’d already looked in the hamper. How did she miss them? Monica brought the jeans over. “Thanks.” Kelly held them up in front of her. There was a mixture of golden dog hair and black cat hair, dirty paw prints, something crusty on the knee (probably dog food) that had dried like a rock. She couldn’t wear those, no matter how dirty her job was.
She ran upstairs and rummaged through the bottom of her closet. Finding nothing but a pair of holey boxers, she went to her dresser next and opened the pants drawer. She pulled out a pair of drawstring khakis that she wore last in sixth grade, when she was as big as a house.
Glancing at her clock, she realized she didn’t have time to screw around anymore. She got into the pants and tied the drawstring tight around her waist. For a shirt she wore the black one her mother had bought at Goodwill. It was an ‘N Sync shirt. Her mother was so out of touch with the present-day. She’d thought Kelly would love the shirt since she used to love the band. Yeah, like in elementary school.
But, today the shirt would suffice. She didn’t have anyone to impress anyway. She’d switched days, so she and Will didn’t work together. Today was going to be a quiet, relaxing Sunday at the animal shelter.
The baying of puppies, twenty-three of them to be exact, was starting to give Kelly a headache. So much for a quiet, relaxing afternoon at the animal shelter. After several weeks’ worth of work, animal control busted an older couple for running a puppy mill.
The twenty-three puppies were now safe in the holding room, but there was still a ton of work to be done. The vet was giving each animal a check
up. They all had to be cleaned and fed. On top of that, Kelly still had all the other dogs to attend to.
“I’ll go call someone in,” Morris said, heading off to the front desk.
Kelly barely noticed him leave. There was a black Lab mix running around her legs, nipping at her heels. She scooped him up and scratched behind his ears, trying to settle him down. It worked. He was so settled he peed on her.
“Oh!” She put him on the floor, but by that time he had already done his business. Of course. His siblings were running in circles now, chasing after each other. Using some paper towels, she cleaned up as best she could since she didn’t have another shirt with her. And why not? It wasn’t the first time she’d been peed on. She kept meaning to throw an extra set of clothes in her car for this very reason. As soon as she got home, she was putting together an emergency animal shelter outfit and throwing it in the trunk of her car.
“Dr. Burne?” Kelly said. “Are you done with the black Labs?”
“Yes.” He pushed the sleeves of his plaid shirt up before grabbing another puppy. “You can get them settled in the kennel.”
Thank God.
The timid, all-black female was easy to catch. She’d hardly moved since arriving. The other female, who had a white spot on her toe, was more rambunctious than her sister, but with a little luck, Kelly was able to grab her next and get her in the kennel.
The two remaining boys were probably going to be trouble. Right now they were running the perimeter of the holding room, barking at the other dogs and getting everyone riled up. Their long nails clicked along the concrete floor.
Just as she dove to corner one of the puppies, Will walked in looking extremely good in a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved brown shirt. “Hi,” he said, giving her a crooked smile. “You look like you’ve been struggling. Let me get them.”
She stood, smoothing the front of her pee-stained shirt. Hair hung in her eyes as she watched him. With slow steps, he came up on one of the puppies, then lunged at it, scooping the puppy up in his arms.
“Easy,” he said to Kelly. “You just have to be patient.”
Grumbling, she let him deal with the puppies while she moved on to the adult dogs. A husky mix barked as she neared, accidentally tipping over both his food and water bowl in his eagerness to get her attention.
“I’m coming,” she said, unlatching the door. The husky lunged at her, dirty paw prints now running up the shirt. “Down,” she scolded, pushing the top of his head. The husky obeyed but whined.
Today was just swirling right down the drain, getting worse and worse by the minute.
“So, how have you been?” Will asked, coming up behind her.
“I’ve been fine.”
Will grabbed the broom and started sweeping out the inside of the kennel. “I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
“Yeah.”
“Have I done something wrong?”
She glanced over at him as he leaned on the broom handle, watching. Why today, of all days, did she have to be so unkempt? Dog pee, paw prints, an ‘N Sync T-shirt?
“No,” she answered. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Good.” He smiled, flashing that smile she knew he used to get the upper hand in a situation. It usually worked, too. “Come out with us tonight. We’re going to Emerson’s for dinner.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“My brother. Jessie and Dan. April.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing formal.”
She was so stressed after a crappy day that all she wanted to do was hang out with friends and relax. And Emerson’s had the best chicken sandwich in all of Birch Falls.
If she treated the outing like they were friends, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Would she be breaking The Code? It wasn’t like she was jumping back on the Will bandwagon. Hanging out with some different people sounded like fun and that’s what one of the rules suggested: Do group activities with friends—both girl and guy friends. Was that rule four or five? It was so hard keeping them all straight. She’d yet to make her journal for The Code, which, now that she thought about it, might be the reason why she didn’t know The Code by memory.
Maybe it was time to make her Breakup Code journal? She also had Spanish homework to do tonight. As soon as she got home, she’d do both tasks.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll go.”
Will smiled again. “Great. Meet us at Emerson’s around six.”
Ding.
Raven looked up from the issue of Blender in her hands to her computer screen. A new email blinked, waiting for her attention. She laid the magazine down and scooted into her computer chair.
She was expecting Sydney or Alexia. Instead she read the screen name, Ace23, and her heart tripped in her chest.
Ace23 was Horace.
She knew that because she’d found his profile on MySpace, which listed his Instant Messenger user name and other things. His love of music and his amateur band that didn’t have a name yet. And that his favorite movie was Lost in Translation and his favorite TV show was American Idol and…
Hmmm…maybe she was crossing over the line from curiosity to stalkerosity.
Hey, she typed back.
Ace23: hey how r u?
Ray: fine. how did u find my user name?
Ace23: i asked ben, who asked alexia, who gave it to me. i went to alot of trouble to find ur user name.
Ray: ben as in daniels?
Ace23: yeah
Why would Ben ask Alexia? They weren’t even friends, were they? She’d have to ask Alexia later.
Ray: so what’s up?
Ace23: i need to ask u a huge favor.
The fact that he needed her for something made her grin unexpectedly. The only time Caleb needed her for something was when he wanted to make out.
Oh, great, she just thought about her past with Caleb, which was against Rule 10. She grabbed hold of the four-leaf-clover rubber band and let it snap. “Ewwou.” She rubbed beneath it quickly, trying to stop the stinging sensation. Was Alexia getting off on torturing them?
Ray: what’s the favor?
Ace23: i can’t tell u yet.
Ray: y not?
Ace23: i’m afraid if i tell u right now u’ll say no.
Ray: okay, that doesn’t sound good. u want me to join ur cult or something?
Ace23: ha-ha. no.
Ray: give me a clue and maybe I’ll say yes.
Actually, she was already leaning toward saying yes, but it was fun to tease him. Besides, a clue couldn’t hurt.
Ace23: it has 2 do w/ music.
Ray: u want 2 start a folk band and u need me 2 play the banjo?
Ace23: close.
Ray: all right, i’m curious. what do u want me 2 do?
Ace23: i knew i could count on u. be at my house at 6?
Ray: sure, as long as there’s no ritual involved.
Ace23: promise, no rituals, and ray?
Ray: yeah?
Ace23: thanks
Ray: ur welcome.
She signed off. The grin grew wider and then she couldn’t turn it off. How cool was it that Horace IMed her for a favor? Not that she was going to allow herself to get overly excited. Well, a little excited. It was cool that he thought of her, whatever the favor was.
The clock said 4:09 P.M. She hurried into the bathroom to check her reflection. Angling her head, she checked her hair. It was iffy. She hadn’t showered yet today. Best get in.
TWENTY-TWO
Rule 8: Take three months and only do the things you like to do. You are not to accommodate any male for any reason.
Rule 12: You must never date a friend of The Ex.
The first thing Kelly noticed when she walked into Emerson’s Pub was not the smell of fried food or the sound of jazz blasting from the neon-lit jukebox. What she noticed first was Brittany. And then Mr. Daniels’s deep baritone voice asking the waitress to take back his scotch because he’d asked for it on the rocks and his was rockless.
Both of thes
e observations had Kelly inwardly groaning.
Brittany, obviously, wasn’t her favorite person and Mr. Daniels was hard to deal with. Sitting next to him was Mrs. Daniels. Three square tables had been pulled together to accommodate the large group of people. There was enough room to seat a good ten people, but Brittany’s chair was so close to Will’s, Kelly was sure they were breathing the same air.
Kelly inhaled deeply and went over. “Hey,” she said, taking the seat next to Ben. It was the safe seat. Ben made her feel comfortable because he was nice and always had something to say. That meant she didn’t have to pretend to be chatty or sit in silence while Mr. and Mrs. Daniels ignored her, focusing instead on how wonderful Brittany was.
“Hey, Kelly!” Ben said.
“Kelly,” Will greeted her, pulling a few inches away from Brittany, which made her furrow her eyebrows.
“Hi,” Kelly said again.
“So nice of you to join us, Kelly,” Mr. Daniels said. “Albeit late.” He smoothed a hand over his neatly trimmed beard. Although it was a casual Sunday dinner, he was dressed as if he was about to enter the courtroom, in an expensive black suit and red silk tie.
Mrs. Daniels was in a matching pantsuit, her hair freshly highlighted and styled. She rubbed her ruby red lips together as she checked her watch.
“Sorry,” Kelly said. She could have told them that Will said six o’clock and that her watch said 5:54 P.M. but the Daniels weren’t about to accept any excuses. Kelly often wondered how Ben survived his family. He was so laid back and carefree, as if he’d been raised by a wildly laissez-faire family.
Kelly swallowed, trying to stifle her embarrassment, and looked around at the other faces at the table. She knew April and Dan and Jessie, but the last guy, the one with the green polo on, golden hair hanging in his face, he was unfamiliar.
“Hi,” he said, thrusting his hand across the table. “I’m Breckin.”
Breckin? What kind of a name was that? Probably his last name was something like Jagger or Carswell.