“Am I going to … speak to you again?”
She laughs. “Yeah! Of course. Tomorrow. We need to make sure Bryan stays gone. He’s like a cockroach.”
My heart beats a little faster. So my life will now be run by the Bryan police? Just kidding. Of course I want to talk to her again. She’s me in the future. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
“I’ll call you at lunch,” she says. “I have a whole list of stuff I need you to add to your list. You’re going to save the world. So get a good night’s sleep tonight. You’re going to need your rest.”
“Fabo,” I say.
“Have one last brownie, ’kay?”
“You’re going to make me gain twenty pounds.”
“Trust me, I’ll let you know if I gain twenty pounds.”
I laugh before hanging up.
I’m glad she’s happy. Really, I am. And she must know what’s best for me. She has to. Right?
Then why do I feel so … cold? I pull a knit blanket over my legs and hug my knees into my chest. It doesn’t help.
I throw off the blanket. I know what will warm me up. A bowl of soup.
chapter eleven
Monday, May 26 Senior Year
It’s going to be a great Monday.
I step outside my house and take a deep breath. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. The ex-boyfriend who ruined my life is no longer my ex-boyfriend. I’m going to be the girl I’ve always wanted to be—with the name I’ve always wanted. The possibilities are endless.
Sure, I have to walk to school instead of getting a lift from Bryan. And I’ll have to sit by myself in the cafeteria. And I have a slight unexplained rash on my chin. But I can take it.
The Halloween picture of Bryan and the heart bracelet did not return yesterday. It was a Bryan-free day. I spent most of it giving Frosh a list of things she needs to fix to make Florence—and the world—a better place. Just seventy-three things. I’m starting small.
“But how am I supposed to stop Kyle Borster from getting drunk and then driving?” she asked.
“Hide his keys! Or tell him that he’s going to regret it later when his three friends are in the ICU after he hits a bus.”
“But why will he listen to me?” she asked, sounding overwhelmed.
“We’ll figure something out,” I told her. “We have two years to come up with a plan.” We have lots of time for most of the items, actually. We’ll figure everything out together.
After lots of trial and error, we came up with a way Frosh could get in contact with me, since she didn’t seem to be able to call. “Text yourself,” I told her. “Type a text to yourself, send it, then save it.”
“’kay, hold on. I’m sending it!” A few seconds later, she shrieked, “I got it!”
“Save it!” I cried.
Hmm. The only text on my phone was the one from me. Time travel weirdness? Or was I my only friend?
You are awesome. Why, yes I am. I also figured out that I can reply to her texts and send her new ones.
Honk! Honk! Honk!
I stop in my tracks. Bryan?
It’s a silver Honda Civic. Joelle and Karin are in the front. Why are they here? Are they picking up a neighbor?
Honk! Honk! Honk!
I glance around the street to see if there’s someone else they may be waving at. Besides a geriatric mowing his lawn, I’m the only one here. They seem to be waving and honking at me.
Joelle rolls down her window. “Hey! We gotta move. We still have to pick up Tash, and we need our Kogurt Juices!”
Why are they picking me up when I’ve barely spoken to them in three and a half years? And I drink Kogurt Juice?
“Come on, slowpoke,” Karin says.
Oh. My. God. Does this mean what I think it does? I hurry over to the car, open the door to the backseat, and slide in. “Hi,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. If I never went out with Bryan, then I never stopped being friends with Karin, Tash, and Joelle. I do have friends! Hah!
Best. News. Ever. I want to wrap my arms around both of them and pull them into a bear hug. But I control myself.
Karin turns toward me and smiles. “Hi!”
I try not to visibly cringe. Even though I see Karin every day at school, I haven’t been this close to her since she got so skinny. Her arms are like twigs. Her face is hollow-looking. When we were younger, I never thought her nose was too wide, but on her new face, it looks twice the size. I’m glad it’s on my list.
“What is up with your phone?” she asks. “I called you a million times yesterday. There’s not even a voice mail.”
“Oh. It’s … compromised.” I hope my mom won’t try to get in touch. She might force me to get a new one.
“Are you still reeling from this weekend?” she asks.
Maybe they heard about the breakup and are trying to be nice. “Guess the jerk told everyone he broke up with me,” I mumble.
Joelle looks at me in her rearview mirror. “Jerk?” she asks. “What jerk?”
“The jerk! Bryan.” Wait. Stop. What am I saying? The entire relationship—including the grand finale—is now a figment of my imagination. Must remember that.
They’re staring at me blankly. “What’s she talking about?” Joelle asks.
“I have no idea,” Karin says. “Are you talking about Bryan Sanderson?”
“Er, never mind,” I say quickly.
“Did you hit your head or something?” Joelle asks, laughing. “When did you go out with Karin’s ex?”
“Karin’s what?” I blurt out. Karin went out with Bryan Sanderson? My Bryan? Excuse me?
“I’d barely call him an ex,” Karin says, laughing. “We were together for like two months.”
I try to keep the stricken look off my face. Deep breath. Deep breath. So they were briefly together. It doesn’t matter. It’s over. For both of us.
“Maybe you had more fun on Friday night than I even thought,” Joelle says. “I know you hooked up with Harry, but I didn’t know about Bryan—”
“I did not hook up with Bryan!” My jaw drops. Harry who? Harry … Travis? “Wait. I hooked up with Harry Travis?”
They both laugh. “Were you drunk?” Karin asks. “I wouldn’t have let you hook up with a guy if I thought you were drunk.”
I hooked up with Harry Travis on Friday? I do not remember that. Wasn’t I home on Friday waiting to talk to Frosh? At least I thought I was. Unless now everything’s changed …
But still. I can’t believe I would kiss another guy when I just broke up with Bryan! Although Harry Travis is seriously hot. Or at least, he was the last time I saw him—when I hid from him on Friday at the mall. And anyway, I didn’t just break up with Bryan. Technically, the girl who broke up with Bryan is not the same girl who hooked up with Harry. For all I know, the girl who hooked up with Harry has been in love with Harry for the last three and a half years.
How am I ever going to know what Frosh has been up to since freshman year if all I have are my original memories?
“I wasn’t drunk,” I say eventually. “I’m just joking with you! Ha-ha, totally kidding. I completely remember hooking up with Harry.” Yeah. Sure I do. “But I never hooked up with Bryan. Ever. Never ever.”
“You can if you want to,” Karin tells me. “Honestly, I wouldn’t care. You know we only hooked up a few times.”
I swallow the lump of vomit in my throat.
“Have you spoken to him since?” Joelle asks me.
“Bryan?” I ask.
“No. Harry.”
Er. “I don’t think so.” Did I? I’d check my caller ID if my phone worked properly. But if it worked properly, I certainly would not be getting a call from Harry Travis. “I always wondered what it would be like kissing Harry.”
Joelle clucks her tongue. “It wasn’t like it was your first time.”
This keeps getting better and better. “It wasn’t?”
“Hello?” Karin cries. “Don’t you remember Halloween?”
I remember taking Bryan’s little cousins trick-or-treating. I remember them puking in the backseat of Bryan’s new bright blue Jetta—yet another sorry-I-live-in-another-country gift from his dad. “Of course I do. Tell me the story, though—I want to hear your version.”
Karin laughs. “My version of how you and Harry made out in Celia King’s parents’ bedroom at her Halloween party?”
That girl has a lot of parties. Aren’t her parents ever home? I hope I stayed off her couch this time. “Right,” I say. I guess everyone else has new memories. Memories of the updated and improved me.
I lay my head back on the seat. I’ve kissed Harry Travis. Twice. Twice that I know about. Wait! I run my hand along my chin. The redness is from Harry’s stubble!
“I need you guys to come over this week,” Joelle says, pulling into Tash’s driveway. “I’m done making my prom dress and I want to know what you think. Now all I need is Jerome to ask me, and I’ll be all set. Did I tell you how incredible his show was last night? I swear, he’s going to be famous.”
I’m hooking up with other guys. I never went out with Bryan. I’m being invited to Joelle’s. I’m still best friends with Karin.
We pull up at Tash’s front door.
And Tash.
Tash waves from the door, not looking the least bit surprised to see me. “Hi, ladies,” she says, opening the car door. She’s wearing the same uniform I’ve seen her in for the last four years: jeans and a black shirt. She squeezes in beside me and pats my knee. “So, you and Hot Harry just can’t keep your hands off each other, huh?”
Karin laughs. “She doesn’t remember.”
“She needs an extra shot of wheatgrass in her banana smoothie,” Joelle says, hitting the gas.
“To Kogurt Juice,” I cheer, trying to keep out any images of Bryan and Karin. Must focus on the good. New drink. New romance. New—make that old—friends.
chapter twelve
Monday, September 12 Freshman Year
Bryan chooses today to have lunch in school. I secretly watch him and Jerome Cohen head outside and sit on a new wooden bench. The school just renovated the outside area over the summer.
“So are you going out with him next weekend?” Joelle asks, sliding into her seat. “He’s adorable.”
“No. He’s not the right guy for me,” I say with more certainty than I feel.
“To each her own,” she says, and bites into a chicken finger. “Does that mean you guys won’t be doubling with me and Jerome? If Jerome ever notices me?”
“I’m sure Jerome will notice you. I don’t think anyone could not notice your insanely awesome outfit.” Today she’s wearing thigh-high boots and a navy slip dress.
“I’m starving,” Karin says, chomping into her tuna sandwich. “I got up early to practice my backflip.”
“Where are the tryouts?” Tash asks.
“Gym,” she says between bites.
I watch her swallow. I watch her relish her sandwich. I think about number nine on Ivy’s list.
If she wasn’t on the gymnastics team, then Karin wouldn’t have an eating disorder. This is the perfect opportunity to save her!
“Are you sure you want to be on the team?” I blurt out.
All three of them stare at me.
Karin takes a big sip of juice. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Because it’s going to make you sick. “I heard about a girl who joined the team and became totally anorexic ’cause the coach pressured her so much.”
Karin’s eyes widen. “Really? Who?”
Ack. “A friend of … Maya’s. That’s what Maya said. Yup. I spoke to her last night and she asked about you and she did not think being on the gymnastics team was a good idea. No, she did not.”
Karin’s shoulders slump. “I had no idea. Can we call her? I’d love to ask her for more details.”
“We could, but she’s so busy today. All week, actually. She has a crazy amount of work. She said she was going to be in the library and that her phone would be turned off.” I shrug. If she calls now, I’m going to be in serious trouble. But I just spoke to her last night, so she probably won’t.
Karin turns to Joelle. “What should I do?”
“I have heard that the coach is a grouch,” Joelle admits. “And that the girls on the team all have eating disorders. I didn’t want to say anything because you were so set on trying out, but that’s the word on the street.”
Karin sighs. “I can’t imagine not doing a sport this year. I already missed soccer last week. I guess there’s tennis in the spring….”
“You probably shouldn’t be too hasty,” Tash says. “Why don’t you go to tryouts and see for yourself? Trying out doesn’t mean you have to be on the team.”
Karin rests her chin in the palm of her hand. “I might not even make it.”
No, no, no. “You’ll make it,” I say. That’s the problem. “Wait! What about … cheer?”
Joelle almost spits out her juice. “You want Karin to be a cheerleader?”
“It’s a sport,” I say, warming to the idea. The cheer leaders I’ve seen around school so far seem to have surprisingly normal body weights. “And she loves cheerleading. How many times have we watched Bring It On? And Bring It On Again? And Bring It On Until We Drop with Exhaustion? She’d be amazing at it. She’s flexible and she can dance and it would be fun. Why not?”
Joelle crosses her arms. “She’s too smart to be a cheerleader.”
“I’m not pretty enough to be a cheerleader,” Karin adds.
I shake my head. “You are too pretty enough. You’re hot. And saying all cheerleaders are dumb is like saying all geniuses are nerdy. Look at Tash here!”
“I am kind of nerdy,” Tash says with a half smile.
“You are not! Anyway, cheering is a fabo way to meet guys. Come on. There’s no risk in trying out.”
“Only complete social mortification,” Karin says.
“You’d be a great cheerleader,” I promise. “We’ll come cheer you on at tryouts!”
“You would be a great cheerleader,” Tash adds.
Karin turns to Joelle. “What do you think?”
Joelle narrows her eyes. “If you ditch us for your cheery friends, I’m going to be pissed.”
Karin’s eyes widen. “I would never ditch my friends!”
“Then go for it,” Joelle says.
“Go for it,” I echo.
Karen smiles. “Okay. I think I will.”
Ivy is going to be so proud of me. I just saved Karin. I know it.
chapter thirteen
Monday, May 26 Senior Year
“I’ll see you at our table at lunch!” Karin calls out to me in the hallway before fourth period. Yes! Guess I won’t be sitting alone after all.
After finding a seat in French, I zone out, thinking about my new life. Before today, my lunches were normally spent at Subway, where Bryan and I sat at the table by the far window. Bryan ordered extra mayo. I ordered extra mustard and usually got it on my shirt. And his shirt. Or we took his car through the drive-through at McDonald’s and got two Happy Meals, extra ketchup for the fries. Or sometimes, if my mom happened to make something good the night before, which was rare these days, I’d pack up two portions and we’d eat them outside on the wooden bench. Our bench. He even carved our initials into it freshman year. BTS + DAB. He always included our middle initials, since without his, his initials are BS. Hah. It was always just the two us.
Bryan had strep throat for a week sophomore year. I sat with Karin, Joelle, and Tash on Monday and Tuesday, but by Wednesday, it was awkward city and I ate by myself in the library.
I was so pathetic.
We both were. He stayed friends with Jerome, and still played ball, but mostly it was about me.
Last summer his mom made him go on a ten-day cruise through South America for his grandparents’ fifty-year anniversary, and all the cousins and aunts and family members were invited. Wives and husbands and fiancés. Everyone official. E
veryone except me. He spent the whole trip in the computer room IM’ing me. Afterward, Bryan’s mom said that she was never doing that again. That he was a walking misery the entire time. She said next time they went on a family vacation, they were either bringing me along or leaving him at home.
I briefly close my eyes. Guess he’s over that now. I bet in this new reality, he had an amazing time on the cruise. Devi who?
I twirl my pencil between my fingers as class drones on and on. It’s a good thing classes don’t count at this point. Stupid State—aka Stulen State—has already accepted me. Not that that’s an achievement. The acceptance rate is 100 percent—they’ll take anyone.
Hmmm. Maybe I don’t have to go to Stulen. Frosh helped me get rid of Bryan and reconnect with my friends. Maybe she can help me get into a better college too….
When the bell rings, I pack away my books. In the hall, I pass the committee selling tickets to “Wild West Senior Prom—next Friday!” I look away as fast as I can. But then I look back. I know I’m not going to prom with Bryan … but am I going at all? Maybe I’m going to prom with someone else. Harry, maybe? Or maybe we’re going all girls! Four best friends in a limo. No dates. Who needs dates, anyway? How to find out without appearing like I’ve blacked out for the last six months? I need to check my social networks and e-mails. There must be some info in there about this. Prom is in less than two weeks! I dump my books into my locker.
As soon as I step into the caf, I look for my friends. My new/old BFFs. Instead, I run smack into Harry Travis. Oh, God.
He looks just like I remembered, before I learned that we made out. Dark-haired. Still hot. Stubbled. He gives me an intense gaze and then puts his hand on the small of my back, in a much-too-familiar way. “Hey, babe,” he says.
Harry Travis is touching my back! In school. In the caf. “H-hi. Harry.”
Is he going to try to kiss me right here? Oh. My. God. He can’t. My face is still raw. Anyway, Bryan could see. Not that Bryan would care. This Bryan. Old Bryan would have punched his lights out.
But still! This is weird! Really weird! Why is he groping me in the middle of the cafeteria? He’s invading my personal space. Oh, God, I don’t even know what we did. Did we just kiss? Did we do more? His hand is currently rubbing my back—a back he seems awfully familiar with. What else is he familiar with? I think I’m going to be sick.
Gimme a Call Page 7