The Pretty One(52)

“I only had two left.”

I probably should apologize, but instead I just shrug.

“You don’t even like yogurt,” Lucy says.

“It’s not bad,” I say, peeling the top off the container and giving it a lick.

“I have to get going,” Lucy says, disgustedly tossing her own half-eaten nonfat lemon yogurt into her bag.

She’s leaving? Again? “You can have it,” I shout, stopping her. I push my yogurt in her direction. “I’ll go sit someplace else.”

Lucy takes a look at my yogurt, sighs, and sits back down. “I guess I can wait a couple minutes,” she says, sliding my yogurt back across the table toward me.

There are a few moments of uncomfortable silence. Marybeth, Jane, Maria, and Annie are looking at me, their eyes open wide. I think this is how sharks look when they see a sea lion swimming through the water. I don’t know what Lucy’s been telling them about me, but they seem a little anxious, as if they’re expecting me to jump over the table and pummel my sister to the ground.

“So what were you talking to Drew about?” Jane says finally.

“When?” I ask, assuming she’s talking to me.

But she’s not. She’s looking at my sister who says, “Figuring out the logistics for the Kennedy Center.”

“What’s going on at the Kennedy Center?” I ask.

“Drew and I are going to see a play,” Lucy says casually.

I put down my spoon. I try to keep my reaction to a minimum as I begin to gnaw on my thumb.

“Just the two of you?” Jane asks, which coincidentally, is exactly what I’m wondering.

“She and Drew were talking to Mrs. Habersham and she told them she had seen this play last week by this new playwright,” Annie says. “She mentioned they were doing a special weekday presentation. So Lucy asked Drew if he wanted to go see it with her.”

Wait a minute.

Did Lucy ask out Drew or did Drew ask out Lucy?

“I don’t remember who asked who first,” Lucy says, correcting her. “But he offered to drive.”

I glance longingly toward the vending machine at the opposite end of the room. When I walked past yesterday I had noticed that it now carried Oreos. I could really, really use an Oreo. But the question is: Are they on the Lucy diet?

“I hope it’s a love story,” Marybeth says. “One with a lot of make-out scenes.”

“Yeah,” agrees Jane, who laughs like the Wicked Witch of the West, surprisingly.

“Speaking of making out,” Annie says, blinking her overly made-up eyes as she rests her giant boobs on the table, leaning toward me. “Do you have anything to share with us yet?”

“Like what?” I ask, as Lucy begins to dig through her wallet.

“Have you kissed Drew yet?” Jane asks. “On a scale of one to ten, how does he rate? And be honest.”

“Lindsey gave him a ten,” Annie says.

A ten. I can barely swallow my mouthful of yogurt. Although the news that Drew is a good kisser is hardly shocking, it doesn’t exactly put me at ease, either. “I…we haven’t gotten to that scene…”

“Not yet?” Jane gasps. “What have you guys been doing all this time anyway?”

Her question catches me by surprise and is enough to make me gag on my yogurt. I take a big sip of water.

“Leave her alone,” Lucy says. I glance at her, stunned that she’s actually standing up for me. “This is her first play, after all. It’s probably taking her awhile to get used to blocking and everything.”

“You have to be getting to it soon,” Marybeth says.

In fact, we are on page five, which means that today (if we followed the same schedule as yesterday) we’ll be blocking the kissing scene. Which is exactly why I took a double dose of my nose spray that morning. I have no intention of having snot on my face when I finally get to kiss the man of my dreams.

“Don’t forget. We want a full report,” Annie says.

“Won’t it be weird when you see the play and have to watch your sister with the guy you like?” Jane asks Lucy.

But if Lucy’s bothered by the visual, she doesn’t show it. “I guess I’ll find out. Russell is sick today and since Megan and Drew have the auditorium, I thought I’d watch.”


I glance at Lucy, horrified. I do not want my sister to be in attendance on the day when I finally get to kiss Drew.

“Anyone else interested in coming?” Lucy asks, handing me a dollar for the vending machine.

Unfortunately for me, almost everyone is.

Great.



I’ve spent quite a bit of time imagining what it might be like to kiss a guy. Not just a quick peck, but a real, heavy-duty, make-out kiss. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be with Drew. Nor did I think it would be in front of an audience, especially one that consisted of my sister and her friends. Nor did I think I would be so nervous that I would spend the minutes leading up to it keeled over a toilet in the school’s first-floor bathroom. But that’s where I’ve been for the past half hour.

I didn’t throw up, which was fortunate, considering I’m pretty sure my breath is stinky enough as it is. I purposely laid out my toothbrush and toothpaste this morning but I forgot it on the kitchen counter. I tried to touch my tongue to my nose to smell my breath and I’m pretty sure it smells like peanut butter. (The vending machine was out of Oreos, and the only other thing that looked good was the Nutter Butters.)