One Small Thing(39)

I ignore him.

“Hey, Lizzie, did you hear me?”

“Shut up, Troy,” Scar says. “Leave her alone. Can’t you tell she wants you to shut up?”

Thank you, Scarlett. I throw her a grateful look. She smiles and reaches over to squeeze my hand. Yesterday’s annoyance is gone, our misunderstanding obviously set aside.

“Thanks for helping me out,” I tell her after class.

“Of course. I’m your best friend.” She smooths my hair down. “I haven’t been a very good one, though.”

“No. It’s me who hasn’t been the good friend,” I protest.

“I was a total bitch to you yesterday,” she counters, looking genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry I snapped at you about the party.”

“What was that about anyway?” I have to ask. “One second you wanted to go, and the next you were all mad that Jeff was going.”

Scarlett sighs. “I’m gonna blame it on PMS. I’m supposed to get my period this week and I’m feeling so cranky.” She changes the subject by staring pointedly at my outfit. “You still haven’t explained the country-club look you’re rocking today. Whose clothes are those?”

“Jeff’s sister,” I admit. “The party ended up being a total disaster and I had to crash at Jeff’s house.” When her eyebrows soar, I say, “Long story. I’ll tell you later. But let’s just say that I don’t plan on going to another party with Jeff ever again.”

For some reason, she perks at that. But her tone is sympathetic as she says, “Aw, I’m sorry it sucked.” She eyes me hopefully. “We’re good, though, right?”

I haul her in for a hug. “Of course we are,” I whisper into her shiny hair.

“Are you two gonna start making out? If not, move your hot asses out of the doorway,” Troy says.

“Screw you,” I tell Troy, peeling myself away from Scar.

“I’m open. What time and when?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I’ll take you both. My dick is long enough to satisfy both of you.”

God, Troy is gross. “That’d be half past never,” I reply.

Scarlett laughs behind her hand.

“I’ll see you at five. I’ll supply the condoms—” He breaks off as someone brushes by his shoulder hard, knocking him off balance. “Hey, fucker, don’t touch me.”

It’s Chase who bumped him. And Chase, in very Chase-like fashion, merely ignores the mouthy football player. I hastily step in front of Troy when it looks like he’s going to run Chase down.

“Five o’clock isn’t a good time. You have football practice,” I remind him.

He peers down at me, trying hard to catch a glimpse of my cleavage. Again, he’s gross. “Yeah, okay, but we can get together after. I know you girls like it when I’m sweaty.” He raises his arms and flexes.

How is it that Troy can be so unsexy, while Chase, who doesn’t even try, makes me tremble?

“Let’s go.” I grab Scar’s hand.

“What’re you doing tonight?” she asks as we leave a protesting Troy in our wake.

“Home,” I say glumly. “My parents expect me home every day after school.”

“Do you want a ride?”

“It’s out of your way.”

“So?”

“So...yes.”

We exchange smiles, but mine fades away faster than hers. The conversation I had with Chase in the library is still haunting me. I know that prison is supposed to be a punishment, but hearing him speak about it in such stark terms makes my heart ache.

I don’t believe Rachel would want everyone to be sad and suffering because of her death. She hated it when people were angry or upset. She was such a positive, peppy person, and she went out of her way to try to make people happy.

So I need to apologize to Chase, because even though shunning him is what he wants, it doesn’t feel right.

As Scarlett drives me home, I make a real effort to find out how she’s been. She’s going to visit Northwestern, even though she doesn’t think she’ll get in.

“It’s Dad’s dream school for me,” she confesses. “I don’t have the grades for it, but I know just visiting will make him happy. What about you? Still on for one of those beach schools? Have you resent those applications? You still have a couple weeks before the deadlines.”

“I’m mailing everything out on Monday.”

“Make sure you physically hand the envelopes to the mailman this time,” she advises.

“Trust me, that’s the plan. My parents don’t get to screw up my college prospects twice in one month.” Though if I do get accepted to any of those colleges, I’m not sure how I’ll ever convince Mom and Dad to let me go.

“Am I selfish for not wanting you to go away to a coast?” she gripes. “If you do, I’ll never see you.”

“Sure you will. We’ll come visit each other. And we can plan epic holiday reunions.”

“Oooh, or we can go away for the holidays. Girls’ trip to the Bahamas or Aruba or wherever, really. As long as it’s hot.”

“Deal.”

When she drops me off at home, she’s smiling, and I’m glad for that. Her PMS story isn’t entirely believable to me, but as long as we’re not bickering anymore, I don’t care what was up her butt yesterday. I’m just happy it’s not there today. Maybe today’s one small thing will be reconnecting with Scarlett.