What If... All Your Friends Turned On You

by Liz Ruckdeschel

  “But won’t that turn him off after a while?” Haley asked. “Won’t he just think I’m a brat?”

  “Just the opposite,” Irene said. “With someone as shy and detached as Devon, you have to beat him at his own game. You have to master his art form.”

  “His art form?”

  “That whole ‘too tragically hip to communicate’ shtick he uses to keep everyone at arm’s length. Like, ‘I’m too deep to talk to girls as if I like them. I’m too deep to date.’ You know what I’m talking about.”

  Haley knew exactly what Irene was talking about. Devon’s too-cool attitude had been driving her crazy all year.

  “Just remember,” Irene said, “even when Devon starts to show signs of liking you, act like you don’t care in the least. Like you barely even notice him. He’s totally under your radar. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  That afternoon, as Devon was walking to his car to head to Jack’s, he spotted Haley across the parking lot and called out, “Later, Haley.” She didn’t respond. In fact, she acted as if she hadn’t even heard him speak.

  Devon stopped in his tracks. “Haley?” he yelled. “Need a ride?”

  The hair on the back of her neck tingled. Irene’s plan was working already! Devon rarely offered her a ride home. She wanted to say, “Yes! And guess what? My birthday’s coming up and I’m going to get my license and maybe a car of my own! And then I can offer you a ride. I’m so excited!” But a cucumber would never gush that way, and she was supposed to stay cucumber-cool. A reaction like that would have been highly uncool.

  Instead, Haley kept her composure and didn’t look up from the book she was reading. She just shook her head and said, “No thanks.”

  She played the cool game for three days in a row. By the following week, the week of her birthday, which was also Valentine’s Day, Devon was showing clear signs of interest. “Don’t get excited,” Irene warned her. “Don’t react. Just keep telling yourself: I don’t like him. I don’t care about him. He’s a slug under the heel of my boot.”

  “A slug under the heel of my boot,” Haley echoed. “But look!” She pulled a homemade CD out of her backpack. She’d found it in her locker that morning with a note from Devon: I just threw this together. Some of my favorites. Thought it might make a nice sound track for your b-day.

  “A mix CD!” Haley nearly squealed. “And it has the most amazing songs on it. The last one is, like, totally romantic.”

  “Haley, listen,” Irene said, shaking her. “Snap out of it. Stick to the plan. Remember: do not react. Don’t even thank him for it. It’s just a stupid CD. It probably cost seventy-five cents and took him, like, three minutes to burn.”

  “Don’t thank him for it?” Haley said. “But isn’t that rude?”

  “It’s totally rude,” Irene said. “And it’s going to make him crazy for you. You’re building up tension, like putting air inside a balloon. If you get all gushy on him now, he’ll lose interest so fast it’ll be like letting the balloon go before you’ve tied it off with a knot. All the air will rush out and what have you got? A limp, soggy piece of rubber.”

  “Ew, I don’t want that,” Haley said.

  “No, trust me, you don’t.”

  When Devon saw Haley in the art room later that day and said, “Hey, did you get the CD I left you?” Haley barely glanced at him.

  “The what?” she said.

  “The CD. With songs on it? I made it for you myself.”

  “Oh, that. Is that what it was?” Haley said in her coldest voice. “Um, thanks.” It took every ounce of strength not to tell him how she really felt. She did, however, allow herself to sneak a peek at Devon’s baffled face before he turned away. He looked miserable. The pressure was starting to build.

  On Valentine’s Day, Devon walked up to Haley at her locker and cleared his throat nervously. She thought he was wearing a slightly more carefully chosen outfit than usual. Still slouchy, but the vintage blazer was pretty sharp and more formal than his usual ratty sweatshirt.

  “Hey—I hear it’s your birthday,” Devon said.

  Inside Haley’s head a voice squealed, Oh my God, he remembered my birthday! She couldn’t wait to find out what kind of surprise he had in store for her. But Irene’s stern voice overrode Haley’s excitement. Remember: do not react at all, she reminded herself.

  “Yeah, it’s today,” Haley said in as blasé a manner as she could muster.

  “Well, listen,” Devon said. “There’s this photo show at MoMA I’ve been really interested in seeing, and I was wondering … I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. We could make a night of it, you know…. The museum’s open till eight, and then we could grab something to eat in the city….”

  Haley was dying to say yes, but she controlled herself, Irene-style. “Sorry, I can’t,” she said coldly. “I’ve got a family obligation.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her heart both ached and was thrilled to see the disappointment on Devon’s face. “Maybe another time, then.”

  She didn’t answer, so he walked away dejectedly. She sighed as she watched him go. Irene’s plan wasn’t easy. She would have loved to spend her birthday in the city with Devon. But according to Irene, he wasn’t smitten enough yet. She had to soldier on.

  After school that day, Haley’s dad picked her up and drove her to the DMV. She took her driver’s test and passed. She was a little shaky on three-point turns, but the woman scoring her road test didn’t seem to pick up on it. At the end of the test, Haley ran outside to the waiting room and waved her brand-new driver’s license at her dad.

  “Congratulations!” He gave her a big hug. “My little girl’s a driver. Want to chauffeur me home?”

  Haley carefully maneuvered her parents’ hybrid from the DMV for the twenty blocks or so to her own street. She was beginning to feel comfortable behind the wheel when, right as she turned into her driveway, she nearly rear-ended a hideous car that was blocking the garage. It was a large, pale yellow sedan covered with bumper stickers like “I Brake for Cookies,” “Lady in a Walker on Board” and “Sunday Drivers = Safe Drivers.” Haley recognized it instantly as her grandmother’s old Lemon, famous for the way it backfired every few feet.

  “Is Gam Polly here for my birthday?” Haley asked enthusiastically. “If that’s the case, I’ll forgive her for parking her giant monstrosity of a car in my parking space.”

  “That giant monstrosity … is your new car!” Perry announced. “Happy seventeenth birthday, Snoodles!”

  “What?” Haley was stunned. She’d been hoping for a car—a new car. Barring that, she’d been hoping for something she wouldn’t be too embarrassed to be seen in. But this—this was a travesty. Her worst nightmare, on wheels. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

  Her father laughed. “It’s all yours, Haley. You deserve it.”

  You mean I deserve to be punished? she thought. Because that’s what this feels like.

  “Yay,” she said halfheartedly, purely for her father’s benefit.

  Her birthday dinner with the family that night cheered her up a little. Haley knew she shouldn’t sulk about getting Gam Polly’s clunker instead of a cool new ride, like the one Coco got on her birthday or even Annie Armstrong’s tiny electric car. She supposed the Lemon was better than no car, and she tried to be a good sport about it.

  Right after dinner, the doorbell rang. Her parents were busy in the kitchen so Haley ran to get it. When she opened the door, there stood Devon holding a big red gift box tied with a red ribbon.

  “Hi,” he said, grinning at her.

  “Hey,” she said coolly. Keeping up her icy veneer was harder than ever. She was so disappointed over the car that the prospect of a surprise from Devon was all the more appealing.

  He paused, glancing down at the red box, then said, “I got you something. For your birthday.”

  “Huh,” she muttered with all the lack of interest she could muster. She stepped outside and closed the door, making a point of ref
using to let him in. He pressed the box into her hands. She sat on the cold front steps to open it.

  Inside was a green velvet blazer, beautifully lined in orange silk. She had tried it on at Jack’s a week earlier but hadn’t bought it, thinking it was too expensive—it had been hanging on the designer goods rack. She held it up under the porch light. She loved the blazer, but of course she couldn’t say so.

  “I saw you try it on,” Devon confessed. “You looked so beautiful in it. I thought you should have it.”

  Haley struggled to keep the stern look on her face from melting into a gooey “aw.” That had to be one of the sweetest things any boy had ever said to or done for her. But Irene’s advice stayed with her, and she kept herself in check. “Thanks,” she said in a flat voice. She granted him a vague smile—he’d bought her a present, after all—but that was it.

  “So … you doing anything special tonight for your birthday?” Devon asked.

  “I’ll probably just go to the game or something,” she said. The boys’ varsity basketball team had a big game against their archrivals, Ridgewood, that night. It was the social event of the weekend in certain circles. Not in Devon’s, of course, but he might have gone with Haley if she’d invited him. She didn’t.

  “Oh,” he said. He paused a few seconds to give her one last chance to ask him along, but she didn’t take it. “Well, happy birthday, Haley. See you around.”

  Haley went inside and closed the door before he’d even left the porch. Through the front window, she watched him walk away looking very dejected.

  I’m doing everything you told me, Irene, she thought. This better be worth it.

  If you think Irene’s advice is genius and that Haley should stick with the plan and not let up on poor Devon, go to, DESPERATELY SEEKING HALEY If you think Devon’s had enough, that his goose is cooked and it’s time for Haley to take him off the coals and reel him, go to, IGNORE IRENE’S ADVICE. Finally, maybe Haley really is bored with Devon now and wants to go to Reese’s basketball game, HOME GAME.

  CANDLELIT BIRTHDAY

  If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, why shouldn’t the same rule apply to girls?

  It hit Haley as soon as Alex answered the door—a wonderful smell. A warm, homey, wintry supper smell that was far more decadent than anything wafting around the Millers’ mostly vegetarian kitchen.

  “Come in, come in.” Alex looked adorable in a button-down shirt and tie covered by an apron. He led Haley into his family’s traditional colonial house. The foyer was lit only by large candles scattered around on tabletops and lining each step up to the second floor. The rest of the Martin family was out of town, so the house was quiet except for some soft music playing on the stereo. They walked through the living room, where a fire roared in the fireplace. Then Alex led Haley into the dining room, where he had set the table beautifully. He’d used what was clearly his mother’s best china and silver, which gleamed in the light of tall candles burning in a pair of silver candelabra.

  “What smells so good?” Haley asked as she followed him into the kitchen. They were barely able to keep their hands off each other and seemed to have a physical need to be touching at all times. Pots simmered on the stove and something was roasting in the oven as Alex resumed chopping and stirring and sautéing.

  “That would be steak au poivre, scalloped potatoes and sautéed spinach,” Alex said. “I hope everything turns out okay. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience cooking.”

  Haley was touched. Alex had clearly gone to a lot of trouble to make her birthday dinner perfect. She wondered if any of the other boys she knew would ever make this much effort to please her. Probably not.

  Alex handed Haley a glass of sparkling cider. “Before we sit down to eat, I’d like to make a toast. Happy Valentine’s Day, Haley, and happy birthday.” Alex leaned over and kissed her passionately. Haley felt light-headed, pleasantly warm and as if her feet were no longer touching the floor. She was suddenly glad she’d remembered to shave her legs and put on the one pair of ecru lace underwear she owned.

  “Thank you.” Haley giggled. “And here’s to your first steak au poivre.” They sipped their cider.

  It was all so sophisticated and grown up, but it also felt entirely natural being with Alex this way, alone in the house fixing dinner. Even though Haley had just been dropped off by her dad like a little girl.

  Haley would have driven herself to Alex’s house—she had, after all, passed her driver’s test that afternoon and finally gotten her license, as well as a car of her very own. The problem was just that—her new car. Haley wasn’t ready to introduce it to the world, not even to Alex.

  Instead of coming home to a shiny new auto mobile in her driveway, Haley had driven up to find the large, pale yellow Lemon waiting for her—the battered and bruised sedan that had once belonged to her grandmother Polly. It was pretty much the ugliest car Haley had ever seen. It backfired like a cannon and was covered with bumper stickers like “I Brake for Cookies,” “Lady in a Walker on Board” and “Sunday Drivers = Safe Drivers.”

  So, Haley told her parents a little white lie—that she wasn’t comfortable driving by herself at night yet. Her father, predictably, thought Haley was being very mature and safety-minded, and said he’d be glad to drop her off. In fact, he told her to add an extra half hour to her curfew.

  Alex opened the oven and checked on the potatoes. “I think we’re ready. Go make yourself comfortable in the dining room, and I’ll be right in.”

  Haley sat down at the candlelit table and put her napkin in her lap. Alex brought in the scalloped potatoes and the platter of spinach, followed by the steaks, dripping with a buttery pepper sauce. He served Haley first, then himself, and sat down.

  “Delicious,” she declared after taking her first bite, and it really was. She tried the vegetables, and they were wonderfully tender and flavorful too. “Everything is sooooo good,” she moaned.

  “Thank goodness,” Alex said. “I didn’t know what I’d do if it turned out badly. I’d hate to have to order emergency pizza for your birthday. That would not have been the memorable evening I was hoping for.”

  Haley laughed. “I wouldn’t have minded. But this really is great.” She paused for a sip of water. “So how are things different over at the governor’s mansion now that Mrs. Eton’s been officially sworn in?”

  “Not any different, really, but even more intense, if that’s possible,” Alex said. “She’s very focused on bringing more young people into the Republican Party, so guess who her point man is?”

  “Spencer?” Haley said, laughing. “Sorry, I meant that as a joke.”

  “Yeah, Spencer isn’t exactly a shining example of Republican virtue,” Alex said. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Eton seems to think I have some kind of ability to control him. Believe me, Spencer does what he wants. He doesn’t care what anyone says.”

  “Oh, I believe you.” Haley spooned a little more potato onto her plate. The food was really outstanding. She was amazed that this was the first time Alex had prepared any of these dishes. But then again, he seemed to excel effortlessly at everything he tried.

  They talked easily as they finished eating, about school and politics and life. Then Alex cleared away the plates and brought out a heart-shaped chocolate cake with seventeen candles on it for dessert. “Happy birthday, valentine,” he said. Haley made a wish and blew out the candles. Then Alex leaned over and dropped a small velvet box into her lap.

  “What’s this?” Haley asked.

  “A little something for the birthday girl. Or for Valentine’s Day, whichever way you want to look at it. Open it.”

  Haley opened the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace: a sizeable gold heart dangling from a delicate chain. “Oh, Alex,” she said. “I love it!”

  “Let me put it on you.” Alex stood up and draped the necklace over Haley’s throat. As he did so, he allowed his fingers to delicately trace the curve of her neck. She turned to show him how it looked on her.r />
  “It looks beautiful,” he said. “And so do you.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, more urgently this time. Haley kissed him back and melted into his arms.

  “This is by far the most romantic Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” she murmured.

  “Me too,” Alex said. He touched her hair and ran his hands down the sides of her body. She shivered. They kissed again. “And it doesn’t have to end yet.”

  “No?” Haley asked tentatively.

  “We could go upstairs and have our dessert in my room.” Alex let his hand travel down between Haley’s thighs. She gasped a little, tantalized by Alex’s touch, but also concerned that if she made her way upstairs, she might not make it home in time for curfew.

  Then again, Annie had invited her to spend the night out. Maybe she could just call her parents and tell them she’d decided to sleep over at the Armstrongs’? That way, she and Alex could be alone all night. The more Alex caressed her, the more that started to seem like the best and only option.

  Alex is really making a play for Haley, and he’s certainly a catch—sweet, thoughtful and above all, smart. Next year, he’ll be away at college, where coeds are sure to be throwing themselves at him. So what should Haley do? If you think she’s dying to go upstairs for a Valentine’s Day hookup with Alex, to make sure he doesn’t forget her after he goes away to school, go to, SLEEP OVER. If you think she shouldn’t rush things, and that it’s important she doesn’t abuse her parents’ trust, go to, MAKE CURFEW.

  Once things progress to the bedroom, it can be difficult to slow down the momentum. You’d better make sure Haley is ready to go all the way—or do everything but—before she says yes and follows Alex upstairs.

  RIDGEWOOD RIVALS

  Some people just don’t like surprises.

  After school on Haley’s birthday, her dad picked her up and drove her to the DMV. There, she took her driver’s test and passed with flying colors. She was a little shaky on three-point turns, but the woman scoring her road test didn’t seem to pick up on it. Afterward, Haley ran outside to the waiting room and waved her brand-new driver’s license at her dad.