A Good Yarn (Blossom Street #2)(70)

Courtney turned away to find a second girl almost directly behind her.

“Oh. Hi,” she said, giving Courtney a look that would have frozen motor oil.

“Hi.” Despite the chilly greeting, Courtney felt this was her opportunity to make friends. “I’m Courtney Pulanski.”

“Shelly Johnson. I’m with Melanie.”

It seemed Melanie was the one with a lip lock on Andrew.

“I’m a friend of Andrew and Annie’s,” she said, hoping this would smooth the way for her. They were basically the only teenagers she knew. She’d met a lot of people since she’d arrived in Seattle, but most of them collected social security. Bethanne and Lydia were two exceptions, but Bethanne was probably close to her father’s age, and Lydia had to be at least thirty.

“Yeah,” Shelly said with the same lack of welcome. “I’ve heard about you.”

This was interesting. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

Courtney thought giving the other girl some background might warm her reception. “I recently moved here from Chicago.”

“Will you be going to this school?”

Courtney nodded. “It’s my senior year.”

“Same as Andrew,” she said, and her gaze narrowed suspiciously, as if she was trying to read Courtney’s intentions toward Annie’s brother.

Courtney wanted it understood that she didn’t consider herself competition for Melanie. “I’m actually more Annie’s friend than Andrew’s,” she murmured.

“Uh-huh. Just so you know, Mel and Andrew have been dating for a year. Mel’s the head cheerleader and she’ll probably be Homecoming Queen. It’s perfect because Andrew’s for sure gonna be King.”

“Perfect,” Courtney echoed. It was all so perfectly perfect. She didn’t understand how she could be deemed a threat to this perfect romance.

As soon as she could, Courtney left and biked back to her grandmother’s. She felt a surprising sense of energy as she rode, although she was definitely out of sorts.

“I have your lunch ready,” Grams told her when she walked into the kitchen. A bowl of soup waited on the table, along with a tray of sliced carrots and celery.

“I’m not hungry,” Courtney snapped, stomping toward her bedroom.

“Courtney Pulanski, there’s no need to get snippy with me,” her grandmother said sternly.

Courtney was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Grams.”

“What’s wrong?”

Courtney shook her head, not knowing what to say. She could hardly even put words to what she felt. It was that familiar ache of loneliness, that sense of not fitting in. She missed her friends and her family and her old high school. More than anything in the world, she just wanted to go home.

“Maybe you’re tired?” her grandmother suggested.

A nap was her grandmother’s solution to just about every problem. That or a bowel movement. Rather than respond, Courtney continued up the stairs to her room.

Once inside, she closed the door and logged onto the Internet. Her spirits lifted immediately when she saw an e-mail from her father. He sounded well, which was a huge relief. She felt a constant, nagging worry about him. She’d heard far too many stories about kidnappings in South America to be comfortable with her dad working there. She answered his e-mail right away and described the orientation class, exaggerating her enthusiasm for the start of school. Courtney didn’t want her father to be concerned about her, didn’t want to add to the burdens he already carried.

After reading her other mail—from Julianna and two of her Chicago friends—she lay down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, assessing her chances for success this year. At the moment everything seemed bleak.

It was the way Melanie had looked at her, Courtney decided. Andrew’s girlfriend had given her the eye as she claimed possession of Andrew. She viewed Courtney as an unknown and unwelcome threat. Funny how much you could derive from a single look.

Shelly, the friend, didn’t even pretend to be friendly. Their entire conversation had been an attempt to gain information so she could assure the perfect “Mel” that Courtney was a nobody.

Courtney did wonder why Annie had never mentioned Melanie. Maybe she didn’t like her brother’s girlfriend. Or maybe it simply hadn’t occurred to her.

“Do you want me to bring you your lunch?” her grandmother shouted from the foot of the stairs.

Courtney reluctantly slid off the bed and stepped out into the hallway. “Grams, I told you, I’m not hungry.” And the last thing she wanted was for her grandmother to climb the stairs. Vera had made her feelings about that quite clear.

“You should eat something.”

“I will later.”

Her grandmother’s face darkened. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m all right.”

“Did someone upset you?”

Courtney slowly came down the stairs, her hand on the railing. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her grandmother looked as if she didn’t believe her.

“Maybe I’ll have some soup, after all,” Courtney said, and Grams brightened.

“I want to hear about your classes.” She bustled into the kitchen, with Courtney following.