Inevitable and Only(34)
I waited. “Mind what?”
“Oh, just, um. God. I’m so sorry, this is the worst. I’m the worst.”
“What?” He couldn’t go to the dance. He forgot he’d already asked someone else. His girlfriend. His fiancée.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, “but I have to take the bus downtown for my internship today and I just realized I’m broke, and you said you wouldn’t mind paying for your ticket—”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” It was my turn to say that phrase as many times as I could, while I dug my duct-tape wallet out of my purse, which was stuffed into my backpack, and then shuffled through it looking for change. Thanks, gods of not-looking-stupid-in-front-of-your-first-ever-date. Thanks a lot. I finally found a few crumpled one-dollar bills and some quarters. “How much do you need for the bus? I’m so sorry, I’ll get you the rest of the money tomorrow. Tickets were ten dollars, right?”
“No, no, don’t worry about it, this is fine. Just enough for the bus. I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t pay me back, this is me paying you back, I still owe you—”
But he was gone.
I ran down the hall to Raven’s locker, wailing. “Raaavennnn, ohmygod ohmygod—”
It was not my day for staying out of other people’s personal spaces. I zoomed around the corner and smacked right into Raven.
And Max.
Making out against her locker, of course.
Everyone made an oomph noise as we all slammed against the lockers, and I bounced back, did a one-eighty, and took off the way I’d come.
“What the hell, Cadie?” Max yelled.
He was laughing, thank Isis and Osiris, but Raven was most definitively not. The glare she was giving me could’ve cut a block of granite into itty-bitty pieces. I turned and walked back toward them slowly, regaining my dignity.
“Well, you shouldn’t go having private moments in public places if you don’t want to get interrupted,” I muttered, hitching up my backpack and smoothing out my skirt. “Hey, Fish. What’s shakin’?”
Raven intensified her glare, if that was possible. I smiled back sweetly. Sometimes I like pushing her buttons.
Our whole class had been calling Max Frisch “Fish” since first grade. It suited him. He had big brown eyes and pouty-looking lips—pouty fish lips, the kind of pout female movie stars do on the covers of magazines—but on him, it just looked like he was always about to laugh, always hiding mischief of some sort. He was still the same old goofball to me, but now that Raven was going out with him, she’d switched to using his proper name and requested that I do the same in her presence.
“How can you get excited about kissing a guy named Fish?” she’d asked, pragmatically. This was back at the beginning of the summer, and we were treading water in the pool in her backyard, to tone our triceps.
“I don’t know, but I sure hope you don’t get married. How could anyone take you seriously, a couple named Raven and Fish? You’d have to name your kids Otter and Tadpole.”
“Who says I’m having kids? Or getting married? I certainly wouldn’t change my name, anyhow. The Woodbury name—”
“I know, I know. The Woodbury name represents the sacred sisterhood.”
“Amen.”
“Hey, ever wonder why it’s not a-women?”
“Because the world was invented by sexist assholes.” That was Raven’s standard response when she was getting bored with an argument. It was also a perfect launching-off point into whatever political rant she’d been working herself up about lately. And as such, my cue to change the topic. So I’d dunked her, and we’d spent the next half hour or so chasing each other around the pool.
“So,” Max asked, bringing me back to the present, “what’re you in such a hurry for?”
“Oh, I just did the most embarrassing thing of my life,” I moaned. “I almost face-planted into Farhan, and then he asked me for money, and then I gave him money and told him I’ll give him the rest tomorrow but he didn’t want more tomorrow, just today, and—”
“Cadie, you’re not making sense,” Raven cut in, “and Max has soccer practice to get to.”
“Right,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her one more time. “Bye, babe.” Then he hefted his soccer bag onto his shoulder (not at all the way Farhan would’ve done it) and took off down the hall. “See ya, Cadie!” he called.
“Bye, babe,” I mimicked, and Raven socked me in the stomach. “Hey!” I protested.
“Hey what, you’re the one who just barged in on us!”
“You’re in a public hallway. Anyway, can I come home with you? Everything’s weird at home again. Dad and I both slept in the living room last night.”
Raven was suddenly all sympathy. “I’m so sorry, I have debate team today. Do you want to hang out and wait for me?”
“Debate team! No, that’s all right. Elizabeth is on debate, too. So we’ll probably have dinner without her tonight.” The thought was such sweet relief, I felt my shoulders actually sag, as if I’d been clenching them all day. Which I probably had. “Oh, hey, by the way. I asked her if she was going to the Fall Ball.”