Pushing Perfect(29)

“I can’t get past the drug thing,” I said.

“You got past it with me,” she said.

I stared at her.

“I’m the one who told you about it in the first place. And I gave you some, and I think we both know I didn’t get it from the doctor. But we’re still friends. Why hold the fact that Raj hooked you up against him? Besides, maybe he’s got good reasons for doing it, just like you had a good reason for taking it.”

She didn’t have to say that I was just as guilty as Raj; her tone and the photos I’d just received did the job. “I see what you’re saying. But I just can’t right now.”

“Someone else, then,” she said. “There are going to be a ton of cute guys at this party.”

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m staying in.”

“All right, I’ll stop pushing. I don’t know what you’re waiting for, though.”

“College,” I said.

“You’re waiting for college to date?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

I couldn’t help it—my brain went right to that last night out with Becca and Isabel, the house they’d dragged me to, and how awful it was. Sometimes I felt like I spent more energy trying to block it out than it would take to just think about it for even a minute. But I still didn’t want to. “In college the guys will be more like me. Everyone will. I can start over. I’ve screwed up so many things here, and spent so much time thinking about what other people want from me. In college I’ll figure out what I want for myself.”

“What did you screw up? And what exactly do you think is going to be different?”

It was hard to explain. “I won’t have to deal with my parents, or this school and all the crazy pressure. I’ll be able to relax.”

“That’s about way more than just the guys,” she said. “That pretty much covers everything. Are you really waiting for college for everything?”

“Maybe.” I hadn’t really thought about it that way before.

“Kind of sounds like it. Look, I don’t know what you think is going to magically happen when you get to Harvard or wherever you end up, but I can tell you this much: those schools are full of kids just like us. And when you get there, you’re still going to be you. Why not just live now?”

It was a fair question. But living now hadn’t exactly made things better for me. I’d thought I was having fun at that party she’d taken me to, and look how that was turning out. “I’ll think about it, I promise,” I said. “But tonight I’m staying in because I’m wiped out from the SAT, not because I don’t want to have fun. I’ll go to the next thing, I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that. I’ve got energy to burn, though, so I’m still going. Help me pick out an outfit?”

That much I could do.

My parents were still at work when I got home, no surprise there, but I was glad—I wanted to be alone. I needed to think. I needed to treat this like a logic problem and reason it out. I went up to my desk and got out a notebook and pen—I didn’t want anything on the computer, where someone could find it.

The first thing I did whenever I started a new logic problem was to make separate lists for all the categories. I arranged the clues by category, and then I started to unpack them. A clue might seem to be about one thing, but it could unlock the secret to something else.

First list: Who knew about me and Raj and the Novalert? That was easy: me, Raj, Alex, and whoever took the pictures. Unless that was Alex, but she would have had to ditch Bryan. Or else Bryan would have to have been with her. That was all too convoluted, not to mention that Alex just didn’t make sense as an option. Which meant the person who took the pictures was someone at the party.

Second list: Who was at the party? That one was harder. There were a ton of kids there, and I didn’t know all of them—some of them didn’t seem to be from my school, and some of them I just hadn’t met. So I made a list of everyone I knew: Raj, Alex, Justin, Bryan, Isabel, and some other kids I recognized.

Third list: Who would want to blackmail me? I stared at the page for a while. I had no idea. But maybe I’d phrased the issue wrong. Who would want to hurt me? I knew I was kind of naive, but I still couldn’t imagine who’d fall in that category. I had to try again.

Who had I hurt?

This list, unfortunately, was a little easier to start. I’d hurt Becca and Isabel. Sure, they’d hurt me too, but they’d hurt me through honesty, and I’d hurt them by lying. That was worse.

The doorbell rang before I could make myself even more miserable. I checked my phone—no one had called, and it was already after eight and dark outside. Who would come over at this hour? Could it be Blocked Sender?

I ran downstairs and looked out the windows that ran along each side of the door. Pacing on my doorstep was Raj, wearing the same suit he’d worn to the last fancy party and holding a big paper bag. I opened the door.

“Surprise!” he said.

“No kidding. What are you doing here?” I tried to sound more curious than rude, but he’d kind of scared me. Or I’d scared myself, thinking Blocked Sender would just come here.

Unless Raj was Blocked Sender.