by Mary Strand
I lifted an eyebrow. The only part of me that had clung to Josh consisted of little chunks of my PB&J sandwich from lunch, and I didn’t think that qualified. “Hardly.”
Liz shook her finger at Cat. “I told you.”
Cat started jumping up and down. “No, it’s true! Mandy told Jason who told Heather who told Drew who told me. Like, I practically saw it in person!”
Even Jane rolled her eyes at that.
I turned to Cat. “So what you’re saying is, since this guy Drew told you, you must’ve been hooking up with Drew.”
She went totally crimson.
Liz and Jane forgot all about me and stared at Cat, even though it really wasn’t shocking at all that Cat would make out with some guy at the mall; the only shocking thing was that we heard about it. From Cat!
Just when I hoped I was safe, Cat glared at me. “I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about you.”
I shrugged. “Even though your own story sounds way more interesting?”
That turned Liz’s head. “So you do have a story, Mary? Is anything Cat said about you true?”
“Not really.” And it wasn’t, really, except for the part about me hanging out with a guy. But we hadn’t been dating or making out or anything else. “We were doing homework.”
Crap! Did that last part actually come out of my mouth?
Jane smiled. “You were doing homework with a guy at the Mall of America? Please tell me it wasn’t for Biology.”
I felt my face flaming, and Cat’s smug grin shot back to her annoying face.
I sniffed. “I took Biology in tenth grade. Josh is my Physics partner.” I bit my lip. Hard. “Or he was.”
I didn’t mean to say that last part, either. Once it was out of my mouth, though, I felt a little relieved. I mean, I’d already embarrassed myself in front of a ton of kids from Woodbury High, so it couldn’t get much worse with my own sisters, could it?
Except with Cat. I really wanted to ask Jane or even Liz what I should do about my little puking incident—to clean it up with Josh, so to speak—but not in front of Cat. If by some stroke of wild luck there was anyone who didn’t know about it by Monday morning, I didn’t need Cat blabbing it.
“Josh? Aha! So the hottie has a name.”
Jane shook her head at Liz. “She didn’t say he was a hottie. She said he was her Physics partner.” She turned to me, a line of utter confusion creasing the middle of her forehead. “But you weren’t really doing homework at the Mall of America, were you?”
I could only nod. With my stomach feeling queasy just from talking about Josh, I was afraid that if I opened my mouth to speak, more of my lunch might spew out.
If that was even physically possible.
Cat hooted. “What a joke. At least I admit it when I hang out with a guy at the mall.”
“Actually, you don’t.” Jane lifted an eyebrow at Cat as Liz started laughing. “And you have to admit, if any of us hung out at the Mall of America with a guy and claimed it was for homework, it would be Mary.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
Even Liz nodded, but Cat still looked smug. “That’s not what everyone was saying. They said she was with this guy. Like, with him. And not doing homework.”
Jane sighed. “Yes, we got the ‘with’ part, Cat. Even Mary admits she was with a guy.” She turned to me. “What did you say his name was?”
As my stomach burbled, I risked opening my mouth for an instant. “Josh.”
She didn’t need his last name, and if Mom heard it, she’d Google him or try finding his Facebook or Instagram or whatever page. But maybe he didn’t have one. I didn’t. They’re so lame and risky—all these girls who seriously hook up with predators and worse! what are they thinking?—and Josh is into Physics and AP classes and brainy stuff like that, and he asked a geek like me to be his Physics partner, so maybe he’s not into social media.
Unlikely. Hmmm. Maybe I should look him up.
Jane nodded. “Okay, so you got together with Josh at the mall, but it wasn’t a date?”
I shook my head. “I just ran into him. At Ragstock.”
Cat giggled. “Oh, God. If the guy shops at Ragstock, Mary has found her true love.”
I almost threw Demian at her, but I didn’t want to wreck the book, especially since she would’ve thrown it back at me and her aim totally sucks. Cat isn’t a brain and she isn’t an athlete—the opposite of Liz, who’s both—and I’m not quite sure what she is good at. Except tattling.
Jane ignored Cat and kept talking to me, almost as if this were a normal conversation she and I might have about guys. Not. “So you ran into him at Ragstock. And you know him from school? Physics class?”
And half of my other classes, as it turned out. “Yeah. We have to do this project for Physics where you design a roller coaster, and—”
Cat started giggling again. “Yeah, right.”
Jane ignored Cat. Pointedly. “I remember that project. Or, well, I remember Liz doing that project.”
Liz snorted. “Because you wouldn’t have been caught dead taking Physics.”
Jane smiled. “There is that. But you and Mary both like science, and I remember you talking about the roller coaster, although I don’t, er, remember you hooking up with a hottie at the Mall of America to get it done.”
“I never said he was a hottie!”
Jane’s eyes twinkled. “Well? Is he?”
“Um, yeah. Maybe. Sorta.” I stared down at my hands, which were now nervously crumpling the school-issued copy of Demian. By the end of this conversation, I’d have to buy the school a new copy. I tossed the book on the floor. “I don’t really notice stuff like that.”
Cat rolled her eyes. “Then why did you ask a hottie to be your partner, huh?”
“I didn’t ask him.” I looked down at my lap as the room went deathly silent. “He asked me.”
Not surprisingly, Cat giggled.
Liz blinked, then walked over to me and offered a high-five. For the first time in my life.
Jane recovered enough to say something sweet. “Of course he did. You’re probably the smartest girl in the class, and who wouldn’t want you?”
Even from Jane, a compliment like that was stunning. I mean, I guess my family knew I was smart—they saw my grades—but no one had actually said it. Like, ever.
Even Dad just gave a faint smile when he read my report cards, and I didn’t have a clue what it meant.
Cat opened her mouth to say something, but Jane froze her with a sharp look. “Hey, let’s quit bugging Mary. It looks like she’s reading something for class.” She gave me a sweet smile. “But I suspect, as homework goes, it’s not as interesting as what you might find at the Mall of America.”
She had no idea.
The rest of the weekend, I never worked up the nerve to talk to Jane or Liz about the barf episode. I told myself I was so relieved that Cat obviously hadn’t heard the full story that I just put it out of my mind.
Or tried to.
That was a little hard to do Monday morning, when Josh showed up for English and sat in his assigned seat behind me, as always, but didn’t poke me in the arm or say anything or even acknowledge my pathetic existence. He just sat there. Well, I assume he just sat there, but I couldn’t know for sure without turning around to look at him. Since I didn’t feel particularly masochistic today, I didn’t.
When the bell rang, he still didn’t speak to me, so I grabbed Demian and my notebook and got up to head to Gym class.
In the locker room, Cheerleader Chrissie caught sight of me in my plain white cotton undies as I stood in the farthest corner and tried to change clothes, as usual, without anyone noticing.
She squeezed between me and my locker and looked me up and down. Mortified, I clenched my faded blue thermal shirt in front of me. She yanked it out of my hands. “So this is the hot babe who was all over Josh at the mall on Saturday?”
I couldn’t really argue with the fact t
hat parts of me were all over Josh at the mall on Saturday, at least if you count partially digested food, and I really didn’t want to get into a debate. Especially not when I was half naked.
A crowd started to gather, the way it always did when Chrissie either spoke or flipped her long blond hair. I tried to twist sideways to a locker so they wouldn’t all be staring at my butt, but I couldn’t hide my stupid white undies.
“Nice undies, Mary. Did’ja wear those on your date? With Josh?”
Even through a brain that had basically gone numb, the sound of catcalls was almost deafening. I started quivering, first in my knees and then moving up my body, and the frozen waffles I’d scarfed for breakfast were doing a tap dance on my stomach. It was even worse than throwing up on Josh. An entire locker room full of girls was staring at me in my undies and Chrissie was egging them on and everyone was laughing, louder and louder in that slow-motion way you see in horror movies right before some idiot gets killed by a guy wearing a hockey mask.
And I was the one who was going to die in this scenario.
“Break it up, girls. That’s enough.” As Ms. Gonzalez, our Gym teacher, pushed through the crowd of vultures around me, I groaned. Dark and petite, but in a wiry sort of way, she also happens to coach the school’s cheerleading squad. Me against Chrissie. I was doomed. But she quickly figured out Chrissie and I were the problem and, amazingly, sent Chrissie packing.
None of the teachers ever sent a cheerleader like Chrissie packing, or refused to believe even her most outrageous lies—many of which were spewing out of her mouth right now—or took any other kid’s side over Chrissie’s.
Except, right now, Ms. Gonzalez did. Huh. Maybe, being the cheerleading coach, she’d actually gotten to know Chrissie.
She snatched my shirt out of Chrissie’s hands and waved off all the other girls, threatening them with a failing grade and/or dismemberment if they didn’t leave me alone. Then she just stood there for a moment, giving me a look of pity. The only other times she’d even glanced at me were when she’d periodically asked me if Liz and I were really sisters. Liz Bennet, the star athlete, related to Mary Bennet? No way.
So she already knew I was a loser, at least as far as sports were concerned, and maybe that was why she saved me. The way you might rescue an abused kitten.
But she wouldn’t always be there to save me, and I had a feeling my bad luck was far from over.
No one spoke to me in AP calculus, although I heard a few not-so-stifled giggles and a lot of loud whispering when Ms. Veilleux called me up to the front of the room to hand out last Friday’s pop quizzes. I’d aced the quiz, but I was basically earning a failing grade in the class called Life.
Josh didn’t look at me when I handed him his quiz, even though I would’ve at least considered smiling at him—he got an A, too—if he had. The only looks and smiles I got weren’t exactly friendly.
The weird thing was, until Josh basically declared himself my friend last week—in so many words—I hadn’t cared.
Now I did. And I hated it.
I hated my whole life.
And that was even before I went to sixth-period Physics.
Even though we had assigned seats, Josh was sitting on the other side of the room from me, next to Kyle, when I walked into class. Kyle looked like he was about to say something, but Josh elbowed him in the side the moment he opened his mouth. I didn’t know why he bothered to protect me. Whatever came out of Kyle’s mouth couldn’t possibly be worse than what came out of my own mouth on Saturday, which had to be why Josh was sitting next to Kyle and not next to me.
Mr. Gilbertson looked pointedly from Josh to his seating chart and back to Josh again, but Josh crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair and basically dared Mr. Gilbertson to make him move. The girl who usually sat there must’ve been out sick today, so finally Mr. Gilbertson just shook his head and started talking.
Unfortunately.
“You’ve had a week to find partners for the roller coaster project. Today I’d like to collect those names, so anyone who doesn’t have a partner can see who else needs one.”
Hands went up, but Mr. Gilbertson brushed them off and started going down the rows in order, starting with the row on the other side of the room. Where Kyle was sitting. I wasn’t really paying attention, just doodling on the last page of my Physics notebook.
Until Kyle spoke. “Josh Lawton.”
Mr. Gilbertson nodded as he scribbled down their names on his list, Kyle smirked in my direction, and Josh stared straight ahead without looking at either Kyle or me.
I felt like barfing. Again.
Actually, I felt like barfing all over Josh again. He’d totally played me, pretending he wanted to be my partner for a laugh, and I fell for it. The only justice, if any, came from the fact that I’d puked on him.
Mr. Gilbertson kept going around the room while I sat there, numb, waiting for the moment when I had to admit that I didn’t have a partner. The whole class would laugh and Mr. Gilbertson would give me that pity look I get so often from teachers except when they’re handing out grades.
I refused to take it anymore. The laughter, the pity, and the painful knowledge that I didn’t have a single friend in the entire world and it wasn’t going to change.
I grabbed my book and notebook, got up, and walked out of the room. Without asking permission. Without taking a hall pass. Without looking at anyone, especially Josh. Mr. Gilbertson called out to me as I went past his desk, asking where I thought I was going, but I just left. Sure enough, I heard everyone laugh. But I didn’t care.
For once in my life, I envied Lydia. She’d landed in the most embarrassing and horrifying trouble imaginable and been sent to reform school, but she got to change schools.
It almost made me want to hang all over a guy and shack up with him and go into a strip bar and take off my clothes and do lap dances and God knows what. Like Lydia.
Except Lydia had probably enjoyed it.
I caught a sniffle with the back of my hand as I headed down the hall to my locker and, a minute later, outside to the Jeep. Cat could walk home for all I cared. I’d probably land back in the principal’s office tomorrow, and in hot water tonight with Mom and Dad, but for now I was free.
Free, and the most miserable girl on the planet.
Welcome to my world.
Chapter 6
Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite unable to sit alone.
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume III, Chapter Nineteen
A couple of blocks from home, I finally realized Mom would kill me the minute she heard I cut class and Dad would offer up one of those long-suffering sighs that, until now, he’d mostly reserved for Lydia. I couldn’t stand the thought of either one.
Even though Mom should still be at work and Dad should be at his yoga studio, my luck had gone from bad to horrific, and they’d probably both greet me at the front door. With a squeal of tires, I turned at the next corner and headed in the direction of the Mall of America.
Yes, it was the scene of my crime. Yes, it was the only place another kid—not to mention a guy—had willingly hung out with me, at least until I puked on him. Yes, I planned to stay as far away as possible from Nickelodeon Universe, even though I didn’t have anywhere I needed to shop.
I just couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. What a sad commentary on my pitiful life.
After miraculously finding a free space in the ramp on the west side, between Nordstrom and Macy’s, I parked and trudged inside. The security guard gave me a cursory up-and-down before looking away, probably figuring I wasn’t the type to get in trouble. No, I look like the type who usually hangs out in a library or, based on my overalls, in a barn.
I glanced down the front of me and groaned. God. What year had I decided I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking like someone who milks cows all day, every day?
>
Did I have the guts to try something other than overalls? And now that I knew Josh shopped at Ragstock, should I find a new store altogether?
I wandered around aimlessly before hesitating for a long moment outside the south entrance to Nickelodeon Universe, even though my stomach quivered at the sight of it. As an idea flickered through my brain, I glanced at my watch and told myself the last bell hadn’t rung yet, so I wouldn’t run into anyone who might laugh uproariously at me.
Other than complete strangers, of course.
I stepped into the park, found the info I needed, and stepped back out. Time to make a decision. I was done with Ragstock, at least for the foreseeable future, like until the day I forget Josh Lawton exists. The gutless part of me started mentally moving toward Barnes & Noble, even though my feet remained planted in place, but I’d been trying to save what little I earned this summer for college. Besides, a bookstore didn’t solve my wardrobe issues.
Should I switch to something new? Could I?
My feet slowly started shuffling along the first floor as my brain kept eliminating possibilities. Not Gap. Not Forever 21. Not Old Navy. Not American Eagle, although it looked kinda cool from the outside, in a Ragstock Grows Up sort of way.
My feet finally stopped, twenty-five minutes later, in front of a store on the third floor. Maybe it was past time for me to start dressing differently, but I could start with baby steps.
Sox Appeal.
I usually wore sweatsocks with my overalls, or sometimes plain black or navy blue socks, although I’d never stooped to swiping Dad’s socks and wearing those. I mean, I wasn’t completely butch. I just had fashion issues.
I glanced around the small store, my head swimming with the possibilities. No wonder I wore plain socks. They didn’t require any decisions! Still, I peered closely at all the rows of tiny little hooks and, my second time through, made a decision. I plucked two pairs, yellow and turquoise, off their hooks. The yellow ones had a cutesy design on them, which made me gag until I remembered I was trying to change. Besides, no one would notice except me and maybe my mom, who noticed everything—well, when she wasn’t distracted, which was often.
