Meghan finally lights up. “Girl, I’ve fucked guys whose names I didn’t even know.”
“You have not,” I say. “Now, here’s the plan. I’ll pool my earnings from all summer and transfer to Willow Heights.”
“Dude, shut up,” she says. “Just ignore him. Don’t let him have all the power.”
I stare at her. “He does have all the power. We’re in high school, and he’s a freaking football player. I’m nobody. When he came into class, he didn’t just look past me, he lookedthroughme, like I didn’t exist.”
“What did you do?” she asks.
“Um, hello, nothing,” I say. “Did you not hear what I said? No, I take that back. I did blush because hey, my stupid face decided that every time I feel anything, it will light up like it’s Christmas and I’ve been called to guide Santa’s sleigh tonight.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was,” I say. “Every time I see him, all the blood leaves my brain and pours into my face. It’s just plain ridiculous.”
“Maybe when he sees you, all the blood leaves his brain and pours into something a little lower,” she says with a grin.
I sigh. “At least David’s in one of my classes with him, so I didn’t have to sit alone like a complete loser.”
“The guy from your summer job who never speaks?”
“He saysheyevery day.” An edge of defensiveness creeps in, as if I owe David some kind of loyalty because we were both desperate enough to apply for a job at the failing mall. After a second, I slump down and rest my elbows on my knees. “Though as far as I can tell that’s the extent of his vocabulary,” I admit.
“Are you keeping that job?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I have to. I mean, even once Mom gets a job, and we can move out of here, I’ll want my own money.”
“Weird,” Meghan says, dragging on her cigarette. Her parents aren’t super rich, but they bought her a car and give her all the spending money she wants. She gets free tuition at the fancy, liberal arts college in town where her dad works, and her mom is a psychiatrist. I’m careful not to get caught alone in a room with her mom. She’s bound to ask how I feel about Dad one of these days.
“So, how long do you think I’d have to work at Juice King to earn enough for tuition at Willow Heights?” I ask.
“Trust me, you do not want to go there. The entire school is made up of entitled assholes and queen bees.”
“Private school is a devil I know,” I said. “It was easy to be nobody at my old school.”
“Your paycheck wouldn’t pay for a day at that insane asylum. The best you could do is go on scholarship, and I’ve heard those kids are treated like the scum of the earth.”
“Sign me right the hell up,” I say. “I cannot go back to Faulkner, Meghan. I threw myself at him this summer, and he ran away.”
“You’re overreacting,” she says, flicking her ash into the pond. “He probably doesn’t even remember you.”
“Ouch.”
“That came out wrong.” She presses a hand to her heart. “I’m sure your drunken fingerbanging session will be forever seared into his memory, as it is into yours.”
“Look, I can’t ignore him. He’s like, a freaking god.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, you have a crush. I get it. Just… I don’t know. Let it crush you. Get it out of your system. We’ve all been there. It’s just an infatuation. It sucks, but it won’t last forever.”
“Really?” I ask skeptically. “You’ve crushed on a guy this hard?”
“Well, you’re a lot more dramatic than me, but I’ve had crushes. Just not quite so…Crushing.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at college right now?”
Meghan just laughs and swats a mosquito. And for just a second, I think maybe it will be okay, and that nothing will change.
That night, Mom comes to my room to ask me about school. I tell her it was fine. I never know how much she’ll share with her sister-in-law the shrink, and I really don’t want to be the topic of their conversation. I was always closer to Dad, anyway.