“Sure,” Peter said, looking to Maggie for approval.
“Why not?” Maggie exclaimed. This from the girl who hates parties, who cannot even get out of the car to go to one.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m beginning to hate everyone. The only two people I can stand are The Mouse and Walt.
Walt and I make fun of everyone. We spend all our spare time in the barn. We laugh about how dumb Tommy Brewster is, and how Jen P has a birthmark on her neck, and how stupid it is that Maggie and Peter are on the prom committee. We vow to skip the prom, considering it beneath us, and then decide we might go, but only if we go together and dress as punks.
On Wednesday afternoon, Peter stops by my locker. “Hey,” he says, in a voice that makes me suspect he’s doing his best to act like he doesn’t know what happened between me and Sebastian. “You coming to the newspaper meeting?”
“Why?” I ask, guessing Maggie must have put him up to this.
“Thought you might want to.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter to me either way.”
He strolls off as I stare into my locker. I slam the door and run after him. Why should he get off the hook so easily? “What do you think about Sebastian and Lali?” I demand.
“I think that it’s high school.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning it doesn’t matter. It’s high school—a frequently unpleasant but relatively short percentage of your life. In five months we’ll be out of here. In five months, no one will care.”
Not “no one.” I’ll still care.
I follow him up the stairs to the newspaper meeting. No one seems particularly surprised to see me as I take a seat at the counter. Ms. Smidgens nods at me. Apparently, she’s abandoned her rigid rules about attendance. The year’s half over, and it’s probably not worth the effort.
Little Gayle walks in and slides onto the stool next to me. “I’m disappointed,” she says.
Jeez. Even freshmen know about me and Sebastian? This is worse than I thought.
“You said you were going to write that story about the cheerleaders. You said you were going to expose Donna LaDonna. You said—”
“I said a lot of things, okay?”
“Why did you say you were going to do it if you had no intention—”
I put my finger to my lips to shush her. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I just said I haven’t gotten around to doing it.”
“But you are going to do it, right?”
“We’ll see.”
“But—”
I suddenly can’t take Gayle’s needling. Without thinking, I do something I’ve never done before but have always wanted to: I gather my books, get up, and leave. Just like that, without saying good-bye to anyone.
It feels good.
I clatter down the stairs and stroll out into the cold, wintry air.
Now what?
The library. It’s one of the few places that haven’t been spoiled by Sebastian and Lali. Lali never liked going to the library. And on the one occasion I was there with Sebastian, I was happy.
Will I ever be happy again?
I don’t think so.
A few minutes later, I’m wading through the dirty slush on the front porch. Several people pass me going in. The library seems to be especially busy today. The nice librarian, Ms. Detooten, is standing by the steps. “Hello, Carrie,” she says. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”