by E. Lockhart
Take Varsha. She’d stood up for me once earlier in the year. She’d delivered her baked goods to Baby CHuBS. She swam a wicked butterfly and had no shame about singing Hillary Duff lyrics at the top of her lungs. Maybe she wasn’t the wittiest, most ironic person. Maybe she didn’t always laugh at my jokes. She wanted to be a pediatrician and thought vintage clothes were dirty. Still, she was smart and nice, she didn’t seem to view me as a roly-poly slut, and if I didn’t like having my school social life limited to Finn&Meghan, couldn’t I do something about it?
“You guys!” I yelled, over the sound of the CD.
“Yah?”
“You want to go to the B&O tomorrow after school?”
“What’s the B&O?” asked Varsha.
It seemed incredible to me that she’d never been to the B&O. I’d been there every week for years. “I’ll say one thing to you,” I shouted. “Free white chocolate cake. At least on the days Finn Murphy works there.”
“I’m in,” said Varsha.
“Double in,” said Spencer.
So we went. Finn was there behind the counter and he gave us free day-old cake. (Meghan was at her shrink.) Sitting with Varsha and Spencer was a little awkward, and it made me remember how fun it had been sitting with Kim and Cricket and Nora in the B&O so many days freshman and sophomore year—but we sugared ourselves up and did our homework and talked about swim-team stuff and the hotness of Mr. Wallace.
It wasn’t great.
But I was glad I’d asked them.
One Saturday morning in early June, I stepped outside with Polka-dot and there was a shoe box on our deck. A Converse shoe box. Taped to the top was an index card with my name on it. I pulled the card off and flipped it over. There was the note:
They came out kinda flat,.
and They came out kinda greasy.
I made them really, really late,
And honestly-they’re not that great.
But:
They took me several hours,
There’s a burn across my thumb,
Then I had to clean the kitchen,
Now I want to give you some.
The handwriting was Noel’s.
Polka-dot was going crazy with the box, nosing it and pawing it, and finally trying to eat it, cardboard and all. I took it away from him and peeked inside. Eight kinda flat, kinda greasy, pains au chocolat.
Like he had promised to make for the bake sale but never did.
Shoved inside and stained with butter was a sheet of yellow legal paper folded in quarters. I took it out and gave Polka-dot a pastry to stop his whining. Then I tucked the box inside the front door and walked the path along the lake with the dog while I read.
Roo:
You said to me once that you were not always a good friend. I am not always a good friend either.
I couldn’t really deal with Ariel Olivieri and how I made out with her when I didn’t want to. So that meant I couldn’t deal with you.
I couldn’t really deal with the questions people were asking me about what happened in the art studio, bringing up that stupid boyfriend list from sophomore year. And that meant I couldn’t deal with you.
I have never been able to deal with Jackson Clarke and how he’s always been taller and better-looking and cooler than me. So that meant I couldn’t deal with you.
And I couldn’t really deal with Nora and how she wanted me to be her boyfriend when I wasn’t interested. And that meant I couldn’t deal with you.
So I acted like everything was your fault. And I didn’t deal with you.
Only the thing is: I want to deal with you. I meant what I said in the art studio.
I still mean it. I told Nora how I feel, too, which was hellishly awkward.
Anyway, I don’t expect you to understand, since it took me so long to tell you. Way longer than it should have.
But I hope you will understand anyway.
Here are the pastries I promised.
Noel
I walked along the lake, holding the note in my hand and crying. Crying because someone had come to me rather than me going to him.
Crying because the someone was Noel. Crying because I didn’t have Rabbit Fever anymore, I just wanted Noel and nobody else.
Crying because even with Hutch and Varsha and Spencer and Finn&Meghan, even with Robespierre and Polka-dot, even with Doctor Z, even with reminding myself that I did have treasure, and the treasure was all around me—I had felt alone for a long time.
Crying, even, because I knew Noel and I wouldn’t ride off into the sunset. I could pretend this was a happy ending—but it wasn’t the end and things wouldn’t be easy. Noel and I would misunderstand each other. People would talk about us. And Nora might not ever stop being angry. Life isn’t like the movies, and it can never be real and uncomplicated at the same time.
Polka-dot, who was off his leash, came running back to me and looked into my wet face with his huge eyes. He licked my hand, then trotted away for a moment and returned with a slimy stick. I threw it for him for half an hour, just absorbing the fact that Noel had made me pastries and written that note.
Absorbing the fact that sometimes, people do cut you slack and forgive you and want you anyway. Sometimes they do.
And when they do, even if it’s not a happy ending—it is delicious.
1 Do you really want to know the difference between these guitarists? Nah.
2 What Billy Crystal says to Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.
3 What Julia Roberts says to Hugh Grant in Notting Hill —only with the sexes reversed.
4 The way Ewan McGregor does for Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge.
5 What Tom Cruise says to Renée Zellweger in Jerry Maguire.
6 We watched March of the Penguins, Super Size Me, Spellbound, American Movie, Mad Hot Ballroom, Grizzly Man, Hoop Dreams, Shut Up & Sing—and for Hutch, Metallica: Some Kind of Monster. Which is about a retro-metal band in group therapy, if you can believe it.
acknowledgments
I am greatly in debt to my editor, Beverly Horowitz, and my agent, Elizabeth Kaplan, as well as the people around them who support my books so wonderfully, including Adrienne Waintraub, Tracy Lerner, Chip Gibson, Lisa Nadel, Lisa McClatchy, Rebecca Gudelis, Melissa Sarver and Kathleen Dunn.
At a crucial moment early in the writing of this book, John Green said: “Couldn’t she just want a boy?”—and that was very helpful. Jamin Melissa Clark helped me get my Seattle details right, though I invented stuff about the Woodland Park Zoo and the B&O Espresso to suit my narrative purposes. My mom suggested the treasure map and ideas for Doctor Z’s therapeutic practices.
Ayun Halliday kept me on track in the Starbucks dungeon. Bob kept me writing at top speed and rubbed ointment on all my bruises. Libba Bray was on the mommy schedule with me. Maureen Johnson talked to me about my plot when all was dark.
Sarah Mlynowski read an early draft and said “Boring!” in all the boring bits—thereby making the book immeasurably better. Lauren Myracle read a later draft and gave me lots of smiley faces and tough love.
I got my marshmallow sculpture ideas from a number of cookbooks and Web sites, including all kinds of materials by Martha Stewart and a book called Betty Crocker Decorating Cakes and Cupcakes. Rawfoods.com was very helpful for Elaine Oliver’s recipes, and I had help with
Roo’s movie lists from Cecil Castelluci, Debbie Garfinkle, Lauren Barnholdt, Sarah Mlynowski, Siobhan Vivian, Daniel Waters, Farrin Jacobs and a number of readers unknown to me who posted ideas to my blog.
My love and gratitude to my family for their support and patience.
about the author
e. lockhart is the author of two other books about Ruby Oliver: The Boyfriend List and The Boy Book. She also wrote Fly on the Wall, Dramarama, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, and How to Be Bad (together with Sarah Mlynowski and Lauren Myracle). Like Roo, she dislikes marshmallows and loves vintage clothing. Unlike Roo, she loves Birkenstocks and is old enough to remember
when retro metal was not retro. Visit her at www.e-lockhart.com, where you can read all about Ruby and the sophomore year bake sale—or check out her blog at www.theboyfriendlist.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2009 by E. Lockhart
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lockhart, E.
The treasure map of boys : Noel, Jackson, Finn, Hutch, Gideon—and me, Ruby Oliver / by E. Lockhart.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: A Seattle sixteen-year-old juggles therapy, running a school bake sale, coping with her performance artist mother, growing distant from an old friend, and conflicting feelings about her ex-boyfriend and potential new boyfriends.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89265-3
[1. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 2. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 3. High schools—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction. 5. Friendship—Fiction. 6. Seattle (Wash.)—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.L79757Tre 2009
[Fic]—dc22
2008033062
v3.0_r1