The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad

by O'Gorman, Cookie

  “I could’ve seriously injured you, you know,” I said. “I don’t think you understand the kind of mortal peril you just put yourself in.”

  Colton shook his head. “Yeah, okay…what was in there anyway? Was it a love letter or something? You look like the kind of girl who’d be into that sort of thing.”

  “What the heck are you talking about?”

  He groaned. “Just tell me it wasn’t to my brother? That would be so messed up.”

  “Colton, I repeat. What the heck are you talking about?” I said.

  “The paper, Sadie, the one that made you go all ninja on me,” he said, and my eyes widened. “It happened like a minute ago right before you knocked me on my ass? I just figured it had to be something really embarrassing for you to get so worked up.”

  Frantically searching, I scanned the area surrounding us and came up with exactly nada. The song had changed as we’d been arguing. The couples were at it again, twirling around, filling up the dance floor, but the floor here was completely clear. Where had my list gone? Colton distracted me so thoroughly I hadn’t even remembered it. But now that I did my heart was going a mile a minute, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

  “Hello there, young man,” Betty said, sidling up to us and eyeing Colton from forehead to foot. That twinkle in her eye was back, her timing impeccable. I felt like she’d just saved me from either screaming in dismay or bursting out into tears. “I’m Betty, and you are?”

  “Colton,” he said with a nod.

  “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Colton. Dance with me, would you?” Betty said. “It’s my birthday, so you’d best not refuse.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t dance.”

  “Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me,” Betty tsked, tugging on his arm. “I’ve never been a ‘ma’am’ in my whole life, and I’m not starting now, understand? It’s Betty, just Betty. Now Colton, my friend Sadie looks like she could use a moment”—he looked to me then back at Betty in confusion—”and we have some things we need to discuss.”

  “We do?” he said, but I barely heard him.

  I could’ve kissed Betty for taking charge and leading him away—I’d have to thank her later—but right then, I was too distraught. Getting on my knees, I searched everywhere, behind and around chairs, in every corner, anywhere it could possibly be. When I came up empty-handed a third time, I went into the back office and curled up on the couch. No one would find me here besides Mom and Dad, and they were out there teaching.

  I could finally cry in peace.

  Maybe it got caught on the bottom of someone’s shoe, I mused, thinking of where my list could be at this very moment. And then maybe that person got on a plane, traveled to Ireland and finally rolled down that hill like I’d been dreaming about for all these years. A tear fell before I could stop it…and then another…and another. Maybe it fell through the floorboards never to be heard from again. For some reason, that thought was almost as depressing as the next. Maybe it just got up and walked away on its own to fulfill all the un-fulfilled dreams I’d written down.

  The worst possibility, the very worst, was that maybe my “Carpe Diem List” was now in the hands of someone even more heartless than Colton Bishop. Someone who, thinking it was funny, would expose all my dashed hopes to the world. My stomach roiled, and I felt the tears fall faster this time.

  At least I hadn’t written my name, I thought, grasping for a silver lining, something positive about this awful situation. If someone did find the list, I could only hope whoever found it wouldn’t know it belonged to me.

  “Sadie, we should talk.”

  I was at my locker, humming a Billie Eilish song while switching out my books for second period, feeling much better than I had Saturday. There’d been no unwelcome surprises over the weekend. I’d watched my social media accounts like a hawk but (thankfully) found no sign of my list online. No copies were on the walls when I got to school today which was a relief. To be honest, I was feeling pretty darn chipper.

  But life loved to make you feel secure right when the sky was about to fall. I should’ve known better than to relax my guard.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, frowning as I turned to face Kyle. “Your voice sounds off.”

  “Nothing,” he said. But my best friend’s brow was furrowed, eyes refusing to meet mine, and…

  “Kyle, are you sweating?” I said in surprise. On someone else, it wouldn’t have been odd, but Kyle was one of those people who hardly ever sweat. There were two possible explanations: Either he ran a 5k to get here, or he was seriously stressed about something.

  “Sadie, we—” He stopped, took a breath. Finally meeting my eyes, he said, “I know it might be uncomfortable, but I think we need to talk about this.”

  “Talk about…” I trailed off, going pale as Kyle raised a hand. Between his fingers, he held a small folded piece of paper that I instantly recognized by the lopsided daisy on one side. I had gazed at that daisy for long minutes after I’d drawn it, wondering what I should do with my life. I’d totally freaked after losing the dang thing, and now, here the paper was in my BFF’s grasp. My Carpe Diem List. I had to clear my throat before responding. “Where’d you…I mean, that could be anyone’s. How do you know it’s mine?”

  Kyle scoffed. “Seriously Sadie, I’d know your handwriting anywhere. I was your pen pal in fifth grade, remember? Every period is a smiley-face which is something only you do, my too-cute friend.”

  “I just think they make the page look happier,” I muttered.

  “Wow, Sadie! Just wow,” he said, eyes bright. “So, you actually wrote this. When did you write it? How could you not tell me about your list?”

  Looking left then right, taking his arm, I led him past the lockers to an empty corner. It wasn’t more private, not really, but there was some cover from the crowded hallway. This topic was way too personal to broach out in the open.

  “I wrote it this summer, ” I said, keeping my voice down. “And I’m absolutely mortified that you read it. I never planned to share that list with anyone—well besides Betty, who swore to me on her makeup kit she’d never tell a soul. Now, can I please have my list back?”

  “But why wouldn’t you share it with me?” he frowned, keeping a firm grip on the paper. “I share everything with you.”

  I gave him a look. “Everything?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said. “You know my deepest secret, Sadie.”

  “I do, and you know I’d never tell a soul,” I said—but he wasn’t getting off that easy. Something was going on that he wasn’t telling me. I knew it; he knew it. Which reminded me… “Okay Kyle, since we share everything, you want to tell me why you kissed Anna last Friday?”

  His lips flattened into a thin line. “I was drunk.”

  “Yeah for the second time in your life,” I said.

  Kyle stayed silent.

  “Don’t forget I know you, too, best friend. I guess the real question is: Why’d you get drunk in the first place? You can talk to me if you want. No judgements.”

  It took him a moment, but with a deep breath, he fessed up. “It’s nothing really. I just kind of…like someone.”

  Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

  “You do?” I said, eyes widening as a thought hit me. “Who? Anna?”

  Kyle rolled his eyes, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Yeah Sadie, I woke up one morning and found myself straight. Come on, of course, it’s not Anna.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just thought since you kissed her that maybe it was possible.”

  “I kissed her because she kissed him,” he explained.

  “Wait,” I said and held up a hand. “You’re saying you kissed Anna because she kissed the guy you like?”

  Kyle nodded excitedly. “Yeah, it was kind of like I kissed him through her. Like one degree of separation or something. You get it?”

  “That…makes an odd sort of sense. It’s kind of romantic actually,” I said. But i
t was also pretty messed up. “Makes me feel kinda bad for Anna, though.”

  “Exactly. I knew you’d understand, Sadie. I felt so bad about kissing her, for using Anna that way, you know? I drank to try and forget, but I won’t do that again.”

  “Well?” I said after a beat. “Are you going to tell me who the lucky guy is?”

  “Not yet,” Kyle said. “Maybe if things progress, but…yeah you’re right. I guess we don’t share everything.”

  “I get it,” I said, disappointed he didn’t want to tell me—especially since I’d almost had to sacrifice one of my favorite cardigans to his drinking shenanigans—but at least he knew I’d listen if he ever wanted to talk. “See there, I respect your privacy, and I understand you don’t want to share all of your humiliating moments with me. Hence, why I feel so betrayed about my list.”

  “But your list is awesome!” he said, shaking the paper again. “There’s nothing humiliating in here.”

  I groaned. “I still can’t believe you read it.”

  Kyle was just trying to protect my feelings. I knew what I’d written, what he’d read—the one thing I didn’t know was how it came to be in his possession in the first place.

  “How did you find it anyway?” I asked. After searching the studio from top to bottom, I’d gone home empty-handed.

  Kyle shrugged. “Found it after I left your parents’ studio. I was cleaning my shoes, and there it was on the bottom of one of my wingtips.”

  Aha! It had gotten stuck to someone’s shoe. Just my luck it was the one 17-year-old boy who always shines his shoes before bed and would recognize my handwriting anywhere. Must stop it with all the smiley-faces, I thought.

  “When I first read it, not going to lie, I was surprised.” Kyle’s grin made me nervous. “It was…interesting.”

  My cheeks flamed as I pictured the list in my mind. Yes, there were a few…questionable items. But in my defense, I’d never thought anyone would read it!

  “Honestly, I was impressed.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  Kyle nodded. “Yeah, I mean, it takes a lot of guts to write something like that down. How’d you come up with this anyway? I’ve heard of a Bucket List but never a ”Carpe Diem” list. Nice twist.”

  “It was an activity they did at the assisted living center,” I said. “Carpe Diem is a lot less morbid than kicking the bucket, and The Dead Poets’ Society was the movie for July. They loved it.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Kyle said. “Williams at his best, inciting those private school boys to seize the day, the drama was so on point.”

  “I know, right? O’ Captain, my captain. Totally classic.” Sobering, I looked down. “The sad part is I haven’t actually done any of the things on my list. Not yet, anyway.”

  Kyle placed a hand under my chin, lifting until I met his eyes. “Kinda hard to go to Ireland when you’re still in high school,” he said gently.

  “Yeah, but most of them don’t require leaving the country.”

  “So, why haven’t you done any of the others?”

  “I don’t know.” I frowned. “Because I’m too much of a ‘nice girl,’ I guess. Plus, I’m scared.”

  Kyle smiled. “I could help you.”

  “Kyle, you know I love you,” I said, “but I’d be way too embarrassed to do half the things on my list if I knew you were watching. I care too much about how you see me.”

  “Okay, I get that,” he said. “But then what? You need someone whose opinion you don’t care about?”

  “Yeah,” I laughed, my mind turning over what he’d just said. “That would be awesome actually. Someone I wouldn’t mind making an absolute fool of myself in front of. They’d have to be brave enough to do all the things on my list. Someone less like me. Someone edgy, someone who doesn’t care what other people think, someone fearless and—”

  A shadow fell over the two of us at that moment, and someone (a very unwelcome someone) cleared his throat.

  “Okay, what’s this I hear about a list?” Colton said. His voice, that bored yet blunt drawl, always sent my hackles up. This time was no different, but his statement had me turning to glare at his twin.

  “Kyle!” I said. I couldn’t believe it. “You told him? How could you?”

  Kyle took a step back hands out. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”

  “Good,” I muttered, “because I may have had to kill you if you did.”

  “Geez, Sadie, I would never share your list with my brother. It’s private.”

  “Ah, so there is a list,” Colton cut in, and I hated the smug look on his face. “Sadie, if you needed my help all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to bring the old lady into it.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “If the dancing wasn’t bad enough, she kept talking about some makeover and a list and how I had to help you complete it,” Colton said. “Man, that lady could talk. She wouldn’t let me leave. Asked for my birth sign, relationship status, if I’d ever been suspended, how many piercings and tats I had.”

  I was interested in the answer to that last one. I’d always had an unhealthy and inexplicable obsession with his piercings, but that was beside the point.

  “Who wouldn’t let you leave?” I asked.

  “That Betty woman.” He shivered, a real honest to goodness shiver. “She’s scary.”

  Any other time, I would’ve laughed because he looked seriously freaked—it was rare to see Colton Bishop looking anything but cocky, confident and collected. But just then, I felt like lying on the floor, curling up in the fetal position. Et tu, Betty? But of course, Betty would do this, I thought. She must’ve taken one look at Colton and decided he would be a perfect life makeover coach to introduce me to the wilder side of things. Even I had to admit, he had all the qualities on the surface. Too bad I knew better.

  “What exactly did she say?” I asked, fearing the answer.

  “That I should be your coach,” Colton said flatly. “That there was some list you couldn’t complete without me, and it was her dying wish that I help you.”

  “Wow,” I said, eyes wide.

  Betty had brought out the big guns with the whole “dying wish” thing. I knew for a fact she was in excellent health, but Colton obviously didn’t.

  “So, wait a minute,” Kyle said to me. He looked confused, and I couldn’t really blame him. It was a lot to take in. “Betty’s your friend, right? The one from Shady Grove?”

  I nodded. “She thinks I need a life makeover and a coach to show me how to be more adventurous, break out of my nice girl image.” Colton was grinning again, but I ignored him. “To be honest, I kind of agree. Not with her choice of coach”—I shot a scathing look at Colton—”but about the makeover part.”

  “Okay, I think I’m following,” Kyle said then turned to his brother. “Colt, she wants you to help Sadie with this?”

  “Yeah,” Colton said, cocking that dang eyebrow again. “She said I looked like trouble, the good kind, and that Sadie could use some of that.”

  I had to admit. That did sound like Betty.

  “And you actually agreed to help?” Kyle said, sounding shocked.

  “Hey, it was the old lady’s dying wish.” Colton frowned. “What was I supposed to do? Tell her no? I’m not that big of a dirtbag.”

  Okay, it was time to put an end to this ridiculous discussion.

  “Colton,” I said, “Betty was just joking about the death wish thing. She’s in perfect health…in fact, she’ll probably outlive us all, so you’re off the hook. Despite what she told you, I won’t be needing your services.”

  Colton gave me a slow look up and down, then with a shake of his head, he said, “I think you need my services. You’re just too proud to admit it, Sister Sadie.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I said.

  “What? I think the name fits with your whole uptight persona.”

  “Well, I’ve never really cared what you think, Colton. So, we’re in perfect agreement.�
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  “Oh, you care,” he said.

  “No, I don’t,” I said back.

  “Then show me your list.”

  “What?” I scoffed, Kyle completely forgotten as Colton took a step closer to me.

  “Show me your list,” Colton said again, his hand extended. “If you really don’t care what I think, then whip it out.”

  “You did not just say ‘whip it out.’ Seriously…ew.”

  “Ah, so the good girl has her mind in the gutter. Nice to know.”

  Kyle laughed. “If you saw her list, you’d know how much of a dirty mind she has.”

  “Shut up, Kyle,” I said, fighting down a blush.

  “Come on,” Colton said. “Now, I’m curious. Betty never said what was on this list, but I told her I’d help you complete it, so I will.”

  God bless Betty down to her princess pink toenails, I thought. She hadn’t betrayed me after all.

  “I don’t see why that’s necessary,” I said.

  Colton pointed at my face. “Well, look at that. You do care what I think. Thanks, Sister Sadie, I love being right.”

  It was a challenge, plain and simple. The cocked eyebrow, the look in those ocean blue eyes, the tone of derision in his voice. My anger got the better of me, and I couldn’t let him win.

  “Fine,” I said, snatching the list from Kyle’s hand. Before I could think about it, I opened the note and thrust it at Colton. “Here, go ahead and read it. I’m sure it’ll give you a good laugh.”

  Out of the three of us, I wasn’t sure who was more shocked—but Colton recovered first.

  “Well, alright then,” he said with a grin.

  As he began reading, the grin slowly fell away, replaced first by a small frown, a narrowing of his eyes followed by a clenching of his jaw. It took him a long time to get to the end. Finally, with a swallow, he re-folded the list and handed it back to me.

  “Kyle’s right,” he said, voice gruff, avoiding my eyes. “You do have a naughty streak. Who knew? But I can’t help with this. You should find someone else.”