How to Be Brave(25)

“Sure,” I say. Liss is really good at doing hair and nails and makeup. She has this great way of being sort of messy and absolutely stylish all at the same time. She keeps me in check.

“Too bad Daniel won’t be in town, though, to see you all vamped up with these sexy nails.”

“I know, right?” I spread my fingers out on a towel on the bed, though I’m not sure he’d really care. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to notice a girl’s nails.

Liss bobs her head along with the music, but she’s still able to apply polish on my fingers perfectly. I don’t know how she does it. It takes a lot of concentration and effort, yet she makes my fingers look exactly like the magazine. It’s like a professional is doing it for me. “This is going to look so freakin’ chic.”

“That looks amazing. I’m never going to make your nails look as good.” I can sketch and shade and play with color and light, but this kind of close design on a small canvas requires a kind of patience that I just don’t have.

“Eh, I don’t care.” Liss shrugs and pulls out the topcoat. “You can just paint them blue with a green stripe or something. I’ll be happy with whatever.”

She finishes up and waves a half-folded Rolling Stone over my fingers to help them dry. “Hey…” She lowers her voice. “So I’m glad Evelyn couldn’t come over tonight.”

“Really? Why’s that? Sick of hearing about sex and drugs and all of her wondrous escapades?” This comes out a little more sarcastically than I intended. I quickly feel guilty bad-mouthing Evelyn, but then again, we’ve known her only a few months. And I’ve also come to discover that I really can take only so much of her, though I haven’t hinted at anything to Liss until just now.

“Yeah, well, kind of. I mean, she’s fun in small doses. But there’s something else—something I wanted to tell you about.” Liss is good at not feeding into my negativity. “And I’m only sharing these dirty details with you and no one else.…” She gives me a sly smile. “But, um, I think I’m going to do it with Gregg.”

“Holy shit! Really?” I jump on my knees to give her a hug. “That’s crazy big news!”

“Careful!” She nudges me back on the bed. “You’ll mess up all my hard work!”

I lean over and turn up the stereo so that Nina Simone can help drown out any possibility of my dad hearing any of this.

“You’re such a dork. Your dad can’t hear us. He’s asleep on the couch.”

I ignore her snide comment about my paranoia and redirect her instead to the important information: “So wait, when? And where?” Of course, I whisper this.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure yet.” Liss turns bright red. “The thing is, I know I’m ready, and Gregg, he doesn’t want to wait, you know? He doesn’t see the point—”

“Wait, what? Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes,” Liss insists. “Yes. I am. For sure.” She’s got that look on her face, the one that sees only the best possible outcome. All I can see are acronyms from freshman-year health class: STD, HIV, OB/GYN.

“What’s the big rush, though?” I shake my head. “I mean, why all the pressure to have s-e-x with him?” I whisper-spell the word.

“Georgia, you’re paranoid. Your dad really can’t hear anything. Plus even if he could, he knows how to spell.”

“I know. But just tell me. And how do you expect to make this happen? I mean, where?”

“Well, here’s the thing.” Liss has now taken out the blue polish and is applying it on her own fingers. She knows better than to trust me. “There’s this party—it’s the weekend after Thanksgiving break—over at Chloe’s house.”

“Chloe? Chloe Hollins? The one whose cousin took my spot on the cheer squad?”

“Yes. Now, don’t get all judgy and upset.” Her fingers are only halfway done, but she twists the polish closed and places it on the side table so she can look at me. “Remember I told you that Gregg lives down the street from them? Chloe and Avery are hosting a big party that weekend. Her parents are going to be in Cabo or something. And it’s invitation only. And because Chloe knows Gregg, he’s invited, and so am I.”

My heart shrivels inside my chest and drops into my abdominal wall. “But I’m not.” I lean back against the wall. I want to melt into it. She’s deserting me for the richy-bitchies.

“Okay…” Liss leans toward me and takes my wrists in her hands. “Here’s the thing. I told him I am not—I repeat, am not—going to go unless you’re invited too. I don’t leave No-Woman’s-Land without you.”

“Thanks,” I say. “But you don’t have to. I get it. Gregg’s your guy. I’d just be a third wheel.” And surrounded by a bunch of superficial jerks.

“No. Absolutely not. You are going to be there because Gregg’s your friend too.” Liss says this as though it’s true, but the fact is, besides sitting with them under a tree on the quad while they suck face at lunch, I’ve never really talked to him. She spends a lot of Saturdays with him after soccer practice while I’m at the restaurant helping my dad. “And you’re my friend, and that’s all that matters, okay?”