She frowned and took the paper from me, placing it on top of a small pile of others. “Who? Travis? Of course not.”
I gave her a look. “Aubrey. Travis doesn’t study. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s failed every math quiz our teacher gave us so far this year. Yet here he was, sitting in here doing practice problems with you. Maybe he secretly likes you.”
“No, Dara. He doesn’t. Not like that. He’s with Paige, and I’m with Justin.” She gathered the sheets and her calculator and tucked them into her backpack. “And speaking of Justin, I really need to talk to you about something.”
I was only vaguely paying attention. Something Travis said right before he left had just caught up to me. “Wait. What’s going on tonight?”
Aubrey zipped her backpack and stood up. “Huh?”
“Travis said he’d see you tonight. What’s tonight?”
“Paige didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Mrs. Kirkland, the librarian, shot me a dirty look as she strolled past, a silent warning to use my inside voice. I hooked my arm through Aubrey’s and hauled her out of the library. “Tell me what?” I asked again once we were in the clear.
“We’re going glow-in-the-dark bowling tonight,” she said, gently extracting her arm from mine. “Paige and Travis and me and Justin and a few other people. She didn’t mention it?”
I shook my head. It seemed like there were a lot of things being kept from me lately. “So it’s a bunch of couples?”
She threw me a sideways glance as we walked down the hallway. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why she didn’t bring it up. You’re always saying how much you hate being a third wheel. Or a fifth wheel. Or whatever kind of wheel.”
“And you’re always saying how much Paige hates you,” I spat back at her. “Now you’re best friends and going bowling together?”
Aubrey stared at her shoes, looking chastened. “She’s not so bad. We’ve gotten to know each other a little better over the past few weeks.”
I made a snorting noise and quickened my pace. Aubrey kept up with me despite her much shorter legs and we stepped outside into the frigid winter air together. The icy wind was like a balm on my flushed face.
“Sorry,” I mumbled a few minutes later as we skidded down the slippery sidewalk. “I just feel a bit left out sometimes.”
“I’m sorry too. I don’t mean to make you feel that way.” She was silent for a moment, biting her lip. “How about I skip bowling and we’ll go to a movie or something instead? Just me and you.”
I stuffed my mittened hands into my coat pockets. “No, thanks. I’d feel like your charity case. You should go bowling.”
“Well . . . you come too, then. No one said you couldn’t go. I mean, it’s a free country. Hey!” She turned to me, her nose pink from the cold. “I saw Grant Livingston checking you out at lunch yesterday. Maybe he’d like to come with us too. That way, you’ll have a bowling partner.”
The bright eagerness in her expression drained most of my anger. She was so desperate to find a solution that would please everyone and make things right again. The dread she felt at the thought of hurting me made it virtually impossible for me to stay mad at her for long.
“Thanks, Aubs,” I said, “but Grant Livingston is like a foot shorter than me. And he wasn’t checking me out; he was staring at the huge chocolate milk stain on my shirt.”
She snickered. “You have an amazing talent for finding something wrong with every guy I suggest.”
“That’s because I have high standards.”
“No, it’s because you’re holding out for Micah,” she said, elbowing me in the side.
I smiled. Micah was my favorite member of Stop Motion, a boy band we loved. Sometimes I wondered if I was only attracted to guys I could never have. “At least he’s taller than me.”
The vibe between us felt more companionable as we turned onto the shortcut path through the woods. As we passed the tree house, I suddenly remembered the reason for Aubrey’s locker note.
“You said you needed to talk to me about something?” I prompted her.
She studied my face as if checking to make sure we were okay again before she proceeded. I gave her a reassuring smile, urging her on.
“So,” she said, clearing her throat. “Justin and I have been together for a few months now and um, well . . .” She burst into nervous laughter, her cheeks almost as red as her coat. “God, this is embarrassing. My mom’s not the type to discuss this type of thing with me, so . . .”
Ah. Now I got it. She wanted my advice about sex. With Justin. There were so many things wrong with that, I didn’t even know where to start. For one, the sum of my sexual experience consisted of a single, five-second kiss with a boy named A.J. the summer before ninth grade, and I’d only kissed him on a dare. Neither of us had enjoyed it. And two, the image of Justin doing that with anyone—let alone my best friend—made my chest throb like a toothache.
Everything in me wanted to sidestep this conversation, but I couldn’t. Aubrey needed to confide in someone, and I was it.
“Is he pressuring you?” I asked. If he was, my opinion of him would plummet lower than the current temperature.
“No. I mean, not exactly. He . . . well, I know he wants to.”
We emerged from the path and hooked onto the sidewalk along Fulham Road. I peered at Aubrey. “Do you want to?”
Her lips twitched into a tiny smile. “It’s not just guys who want sex, Dara. Girls want it too.”
I knew this, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t shocked to hear it come out of her prim and proper mouth. “Are you asking me if I think you should cash in your v-card?”
“No.” The tiny smile blossomed into a full grin. “I’m asking if you’ll come with me to the clinic tomorrow morning so I can get a prescription for birth control.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed, wondering when we’d progressed from sleepovers and cookie-baking to this. Maybe it would always be like this, Aubrey blazing the trail ahead of me and claiming all the “firsts” before they even had time to register on my radar.
But this wasn’t about me and my apprehension about being left behind. It was about me being there as a friend for Aubrey. “Sure,” I said with a shrug. “As long as I don’t have to watch you practice putting a condom on a banana.”
Aubrey threw her head back and laughed just as her feet met an icy patch on the sidewalk. She let out a squeal as she slipped, her arms windmilling in an effort to regain balance. I reached out to catch her, not letting go until the threat passed and she felt steady on her feet again.
thirteen
Senior Year
I’M GATHERING MY THINGS TOGETHER AFTER chemistry class when someone slides into the empty chair beside me. “Do you think he waxes it?”
Startled, I spin around and see Noelle Jacobs. She’s staring toward the front of the classroom, a thoughtful expression on her slightly freckled face.
“What?” I say, so taken aback by her presence that I drop two pencils and an eraser on the table. People don’t usually seek me out in class, either because they don’t know how to relate to the girl who killed her best friend or because they think I did it on purpose.
“Haggerty.” She nods to our chem teacher, who’s erasing the whiteboard. “There’s not a single hair on that man’s head. Not even any stubble. I bet he gets it waxed on a regular basis.”
I examine Mr. Haggerty’s smooth, hairless head and picture him at a salon with several wax strips pasted to his scalp. The image makes me want to giggle. “His nickname isn’t Mr. Clean for nothing.”
Noelle grins and gives an exaggerated toss of her own long, lustrous hair, which is the same red-orange shade as the changing leaves on the big tree outside the window beside us.
“Heading to the cafeteria?” she asks.
“Um, I was planning on it, yeah.”
“Well, I think you should rethink your plans.” She rescues my eraser from the edge of the table and hands it to me wit
h another smile. “It’s Friday, and on Fridays we go to Subway for footlongs.”
“We?”
“Me, Hunter, and Ethan. And now you,” she adds, standing up. “Let’s go.”
I stay where I am and gape at her, speechless. We don’t even know each other. Still, I find myself kind of liking her, even though she’s pushy and a little strange. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t seem afraid to talk to me. Or maybe it’s because there’s something about her friendly face that eases my loneliness a little. In any case, I stand up to follow her after only a moment’s hesitation.
“Did Ethan ask you to invite me?” I ask as we leave the classroom together. I can’t imagine why he’d want me near his friends after the other day.
“No, but I asked him if I could. He gave me his blessing.” Noelle glances at me, worried. “I’m not overstepping here, am I? You guys are, like, okay with each other, right?”
I’m not sure how to answer. Ethan and I haven’t spoken since I showed up unexpectedly in Hunter’s backyard. I’ve noticed him in the halls, though. Despite the horrifying history between us, I still feel drawn to him. He’s a part of Aubrey—a living, breathing connection to her. Aside from me, he’s the only person who truly knew her. The only person who truly knows me.
“We’re fine,” I say, partly because I don’t want Noelle to feel awkward but mostly because I want it to be true. If Ethan thinks there’s still a friendship left to salvage, then I owe it to him to at least try.
We find the guys outside, leaning against the same black car I saw them sitting on the day Ethan told me he was glad I was back. “Dependable family sedan” doesn’t exactly fit the image of Hunter Finley, Rock God, so I figure it must be his mom’s.
“Hey,” Ethan says when we reach them.
Noelle wraps her arms around Hunter’s neck and gives him a loud kiss. After she extracts herself, she looks over at Ethan. “I told you she’d come.” Her gaze shifts to me and she adds, “He said you’d probably say no.”
Ethan ducks his head, suddenly fascinated by a small scratch in the car’s paint job.
“She had me at footlongs,” I say, and everyone laughs. It feels so good, so normal, my first instinct is to do what I always do whenever something feels good or right—resist it. Withdraw. But I don’t. Instead, I let the feeling snuggle up inside me, just for one quick moment. It’s been so long since I made a joke, or laughed, I almost forgot about the warm, floaty sensation it produces.
We arrive at Subway ten minutes later. The place is teeming with Hadfield High students and filthy construction guys on their lunch breaks. For a panicked moment I wonder if my dad might show up, but he always brings his own lunch to work, so it’s unlikely. Still, I can’t seem to fully relax, standing here with Ethan and his friends. My social skills are rusty at best.
A table opens up and Noelle and I dive for it, leaving our orders with the guys. The line is so long, I doubt we’ll get our subs in time to eat them here.
“How long have you known him?”
I tear my gaze away from a splotch of mustard on the table and focus on Noelle. She gestures over her shoulder to the guys, who are chatting while they wait. Once again, I get that surreal, time-warp feeling as I look at Ethan. Two seconds ago he was playing video games in his room and riding his bike down my street, and now he’s hanging out with cool seniors and driving his own car.
“A long time,” I tell her. “Since he was ten.”
I wait for her to ask about Aubrey next, if I offed her like everyone’s saying, but she doesn’t.
“What was he like back then?”
My gaze skips to Ethan again, registering the wide, sturdy set of his shoulders and the way his black hoodie makes his eyes seem even darker. “Nothing like he is now,” I reply honestly. “He used to be shy and kind of geeky and now he’s this . . . guy in a band.”
“Musicians,” she says with a long-suffering sigh. “They’re my one major weakness.” She smiles and leans across the table, like she’s about to divulge a secret. “They have good hands.”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat, and I press my lips together to keep it inside. Noelle takes one look at my expression and cracks up. She’s still laughing when the boys arrive with our lunch.
“What’s going on over here?” Hunter asks as he claims the seat next to her.
I try not to look at his hands. Or at Ethan’s, when he slides my meatball sub toward me.
“Nothing,” Noelle says, tearing into her turkey wrap. “Dara was just asking about Realm.”
For a moment I’m confused, then it clicks in that Realm is the name of their band. Recovering quickly, I chime in with, “Yeah, I was wondering if, um, the other guys lived around here.”
Ethan shakes his head. “Corey and Kel live in Brentwood.”
“Oh.” This explains why I’ve never seen Kel around. Brentwood is a small town about ten miles south of here.
My face must look weird or something because Noelle narrows her eyes at me, suspicious. “Please don’t tell me you fell for whatever line Kel gave you the day you came over. That boy hits on anything with a pulse.”
“He’s shameless,” Hunter confirms, flicking a lock of shaggy blond hair out of his eyes. “We only keep him around for his voice.”
“Resist him, Dara. Stay strong.”
I wash down the food in my mouth with a sip of Coke. “No problem,” I assure her. Falling under Kel’s spell—under any guy’s spell—is the last thing I need right now.
We finish eating with two minutes to spare. On the way back to school, Noelle asks me if I’m going to Hunter’s house tomorrow afternoon so I can finally meet the rest of the band and hear them play.
“Maybe,” I say, glancing at Ethan. He smiles and shrugs one shoulder. I still know him well enough to decipher his body language, so I know he’s telling me he’s fine with it, but it’s totally up to me. I give him a tiny nod in response.
“She’ll be there,” he tells Noelle.
I wait until after lunch the next day to tell my mother I’m going out. When I add the words “with a friend,” her entire body freezes and she stares at me like I just told her I made the honor roll.
“A friend? Who?” She snaps her laptop closed and sets it beside her on the couch.
“Just this girl from my chemistry class. We’re going for a walk. No big deal.” I plan to tell her about Ethan and the band . . . eventually. Just not today.
“This is a big deal, Dara. It’s been a while since—”
She clams up as Tobias passes by the living room on his way to the bathroom. He and Dad have been outside all day, replacing rotten boards on the back porch. They’ve been doing this a lot lately, hanging out together, undoubtedly bonding over their mutual wariness toward me. Tobias hasn’t spoken to me since I yelled at him—even though I apologized three times—and Dad continues to be confounded by me.
“We’re just hanging out,” I tell Mom, who’s got this dopey grin on her face like she’s imagining sleepovers and cookie-baking and study sessions—all the things I used to do with Aubrey. “I barely know her.”
She opens her mouth to respond but the doorbell cuts her off this time. We both go to answer it.
“Hi,” Noelle chirps. “Are you ready, Dara?”
I nod and grab my jacket.
“I’m Noelle,” she says to my mom, and then sticks out her right hand.
Mom shakes it, her eyes doing a quick scan of my new friend’s bright hair and nose ring. “Noelle. What a pretty name.”
“Well, I was a Christmas Eve baby, so . . .” She shrugs and unleashes a dazzling smile. My mom visibly relaxes.
“Have fun, Dara,” she tells me. “Bring your phone.”
I hold up my cell. “Got it.”
Outside, Noelle and I head for the sidewalk in silence. Once we’re a safe distance from my house, I say, “Sorry about that. My mom tends to hover.”
She waves a hand. “I’m good with moms. They always seem to trust me immedi
ately. It’s the freckles, I think.”
“You didn’t have to come to my house, you know. We could’ve just met at Hunter’s.”
“I don’t mind walking with you,” she says with a smile.
I focus on my limbs, making sure they’re a good distance from hers. Walking alongside someone on the sidewalk, with the street mere inches away, makes me nervous. Luckily, Noelle doesn’t seem to notice. She babbles on, filling me in on her family (just her and her mom), why they moved here (her parents split up and her mother wanted to be near her relatives) and how she likes living in Hyde Creek (better than her old town). By the time we reach Hunter’s backyard, I feel like I’ve been officially befriended. Pretty brave of her, considering what happened to my last friend.
There’s no sign of music as we draw closer to the shed. The door is closed over partway and Noelle yanks it open, stepping in ahead of me. “I got her,” she announces.
The interior is dark and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I see a cramped space with thin blue carpeting on the floor and walls plastered with album covers and posters of band logos. On my left, Hunter sits behind an elaborate drum kit that eats up most of the square footage. Ethan crouches beside him, adjusting dials on an amp. Cradled in his arms is a steel-gray guitar I’ve never seen him play. The Ethan I knew before only played acoustic. Classical acoustic. And violin. This gleaming beast strapped to his chest is yet another addition to the long list of things he’d acquired while I was away.
A ratty tan couch sits along the opposite wall from the instruments, taking up the remainder of the space. On it is a skinny guy with messy reddish hair and an even skinnier brunette in skin-tight jeans. The guy is sprawled across the girl’s lap, eyes drooping like he’s high or suffering from an acute hangover or both, while she plays with her phone.
Ethan rises from his crouch to introduce me. “Corey and Julia,” he says, motioning to the couple, who both glance up with the slightest show of interest. “Guys, this is Dara.”
Corey smiles up at me. “How’s it going?”
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