The Me I Meant to Be

by Sophie Jordan

  Jenna leaned in. “Did you hear he asked Ashlyn out? They were in the parking lot arm in arm this morning.”

  An invisible ripple passed over the table. All eyes swung to Flor to await her reaction to this.

  “I heard that too,” she admitted, her expression stoic.

  “What are you going to do?” Jenna asked.

  “I haven’t decided.” Flor looked at me. “Did he say anything about it to you?”

  I didn’t know whether Zach had actually asked Ashlyn out or not, but they’d been in the parking lot together this morning. I knew that because I’d been there.

  All eyes on me, I picked at the corner of my sandwich. “On the way to school this morning he mentioned they were talking.”

  It was true. The agony was real.

  He’d dropped that little bomb on me almost casually as we pulled into the school parking lot and we both spotted Ashlyn waiting next to his usual spot. Her gaze locked on him through the windshield like a lioness zoning in on a gazelle.

  “What’s she doing?” I’d asked him.

  “Waiting for me.” He’d volunteered the information simply. No inflection in his voice. As he might have done before we fooled around. And I guessed that was a good thing. I’d wanted things to be the same as before.

  But he’d caught me off-guard, and I said the first thing that popped in my head. “Wow. Ashlyn Morgan. You don’t waste any time. When did this start? I mean, last night you wanted to experiment with me.”

  He slammed on the brakes and turned to stare at me, leaving Ashlyn waiting there across the parking lot, indifferent to the annoyed teenage drivers swerving around us. “Why do you care?” He angled his head and looked almost amused. “Jealous?”

  I pulled a face and shook my head. “Not at all. You and Ashlyn? Okay. Fine. But tell me, how is that a step up from Flor?”

  His amusement fled. He looked angry again. He turned around in his seat, his fingers tight on the steering wheel. “Can I tell you how much I hate hearing Flor’s name coming out of your mouth? If I never hear you say her name again, it will be too soon.”

  I flinched, realizing that when it came to getting my two best friends back together again, I might have done more damage than good.

  He swung forward and parked. Ashlyn unleashed her wide-lipped, sensual smile on him as she stepped off the curb, waiting for him to emerge from the vehicle.

  How had she learned to smile like that? If I tried it, I’d look like an idiot.

  She was one of those girls who owned her sexuality. It was like she came out of the womb knowing how to apply liquid eyeliner. She was with different guys all the time.

  He waited a moment, releasing a breath. Without looking at me, he said, “She texted me last night.” His gaze connected with mine then, his gray eyes dark and meaningful. “After I left your room.”

  After. After I told him to go. After I told him we could only ever be friends.

  He exited the car then and joined Ashlyn. She looped her arm through his, leaning all her lush curves into him. He didn’t look back at me as they headed into the building, even though I couldn’t tear my gaze off him.

  Flor sighed. “Maybe that’s it, then. It really is over.”

  “You’re just gonna give up and let Ashlyn have him?” Jenna tsked in disappointment. “Everyone knows you’re the perfect couple.”

  Agreement echoed around the table. Even Ava nodded.

  No one noticed that I didn’t.

  “Willa.” Jenna looked at me. “What did you tell him? Did you tell him that Ashlyn is a slut?”

  I winced. I was never comfortable with slut-shaming. I didn’t get why guys could sleep around and get high-fives for it and girls who did the same got called names. How was that okay? It was a definite imbalance made only worse in my mind when girls perpetrated the ugliness. Where was female solidarity? Maybe if our girl code got around, it could help in that endeavor. Sure, I had broken one of the major tenets of girl code myself, but I knew I was wrong. I knew it and I wouldn’t let it happen again. I believed in the code.

  Farah snorted. “Yeah, ’cause that’s going to really repel him. Guys always run the other direction when they hear that a girl is up for sex.”

  Jenna glared at Farah.

  “No. I didn’t say that, Jenna,” I snapped. “Why aren’t guys condemned when they hook up with a lot of girls?” I cocked my head and looked around the table. “What even makes a girl a slut? Is it truth or rumor?”

  Jenna looked at me in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  Of course she didn’t understand. Jenna had grown up in a family where you were judged and condemned if you didn’t wear twin sets and go steady with football players. Sure, she hadn’t managed the whole exclusivity thing with anyone yet, but she was hopeful. Which was sad, because I still suspected she was into Abby. Too bad her parents preferred her with someone like Hayden or Trevor instead of someone who might actually treat her well. At least she’d be out from under them soon. Maybe at college she would finally feel free to be herself.

  “Guys. It’s fine. Let’s not argue,” Flor said, her tone even and reasonable. She exhaled and stared across the cafeteria for a moment. “Maybe he needs to kiss a few frogs to realize I’m his princess.” She grinned and winked at all of us, but her voice lacked conviction. After a while, she shrugged and added, “Maybe I should go out on a date.”

  “Oooh, yeah. Make him jealous,” Jenna agreed.

  “I think we all need dates,” Flor declared, slamming a hand down on the table. “We need to start thinking about the homecoming dance.”

  “Haven’t you been asked by like two guys already?” Farah stole one of Jenna’s carrot sticks and waved it at Flor.

  “Yeah, but no one I want to go with.”

  A vague look came over Flor’s face, and she glanced across the lunchroom. I followed her gaze, but couldn’t tell where she was looking. It wasn’t in the direction of Zach’s table.

  She returned her gaze to me. “Willa.” She said my name thoughtfully. “Do you know who Grayson O’Malley is?”

  “Isn’t he that super-smart guy?” Ava said, finally finding her voice.

  “Yeah. He’s a National Merit Scholar.” I nodded. “We’re in NHS together.” Not that I had ever talked to him. It was a big school. A lot of kids were in NHS.

  “He’s tutoring me in math, and I have to tell you . . . he’s kinda hot in a nerd kinda way.”

  “I can see it.” Farah nodded.

  “I’d totally do him,” Jenna volunteered. We all laughed. It was what she said every time she thought a guy was hot.

  “Let me set you up with him.” Flor hopped in her seat. She loved nothing more than playing matchmaker.

  “No,” I groaned.

  The other girls all made approving sounds.

  “Oh, y’all should go to the game together this Friday,” Jenna suggested. “It’s a big one against Travis.”

  Farah frowned. “Hello. Willa doesn’t go to the games. And I doubt he does either.”

  “That’s not his thing,” Flor confirmed. “They’d have to do something else.”

  “Hello.” I waved a hand. “You’re talking about this as though it’s a done deal. The last time you fixed me up with someone, it was a disaster.” It was a guy on the football team. Anthony, one of Zach’s friends. We had nothing in common and sat there like two lumps on a log during our double date with Zach and Flor.

  “It won’t be like that. Grayson has a brain.”

  Jenna nodded. “Yeah. A big brain.”

  “I don’t know.” I glanced across the lunchroom where she had looked before, presumably where Grayson was. I spotted him. He was getting up from a table. He moved toward a garbage can and tossed away his trash. She was right. He was hot in a Loki kind of way. Tall and lean. There was an actual grace to his movements, and that was saying something for a teenage boy.

  Maybe you do need to go on a date.

  Not necessarily with Gray
son, but with someone. Kiss another guy. Get Zach out of my system. Move on.

  That seemed to be what he was doing. It was what we had agreed to do.

  “Sure,” I agreed. “If he’s interested, I’ll go out with Grayson.”

  GIRL CODE #12:

  Sometimes it’s okay to let your friends lie to themselves. They have to figure stuff out on their own.

  Flor

  I wasn’t even sure where to find Grayson, but I figured the library was a good place to start. It was last period of the day, and a lot of kids who didn’t have athletics had study hall. Coach gave me a pass when I told her I needed to meet with my tutor. She wanted me passing, obviously. I couldn’t play otherwise.

  Before reaching the library, I detoured into the bathroom. I checked my appearance, although I didn’t know why I bothered. I was in my soccer shorts and an athletics T-shirt, my hair pulled up into a ponytail.

  Jenna walked in as I was smoothing out an eyebrow with a fingertip.

  “Oh, hey there.” She squared off in front of the sink and pulled out her makeup bag. “Hayden is waiting outside. He’s skipping athletics for me.” She smiled and winked at me like this was cause for celebration.

  “Greaaaaat,” I said slowly.

  She tossed me a look. “Don’t go there.”

  I held up my hands. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

  She made a sound of disbelief followed by an eye roll.

  I lingered, suppressing the urge to let my full distaste show as I watched her reapply lipstick. I was about to turn and leave when Abby Morton walked in. She froze for a moment, her gaze clashing with Jenna’s.

  Jenna stilled mid‑lipstick swipe.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t move either. I watched the two of them, not about to miss a moment of this.

  “Hey,” Abby greeted her.

  “Hey,” Jenna returned, her cheeks pinking up. Abby moved and disappeared inside a stall. I looked at Jenna’s reflection in the mirror. She busied herself searching through her makeup bag, pretending like nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Moments later, Abby emerged from the stall and washed her hands, her long dark ponytail swishing with her movements. She glanced at both of us, murmured a quick goodbye, and left the bathroom.

  Jenna released an audible breath. “Where is that pencil brush?” she muttered.

  “Okay, that wasn’t tense,” I said, watching Jenna carefully as she continued rifling through her bag, her movements agitated. “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Sure. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “You’re talking really fast and loud.”

  Her head popped up, her gaze meeting mine through the mirror as if seized with a sudden thought. “Do you ever wonder if we’ll survive this?”

  I shook my head, bewildered. “What?”

  “High school.” She waved a hand. “Adolescence . . . being a kid, whatever.” She shrugged awkwardly. “I guess we’re technically kids until we have our diplomas in hand, right?”

  I didn’t feel like a kid anymore. I felt old. Some days I felt damn old. And tired, too. I didn’t say any of that, though. Instead I said, “Of course we’ll survive.” I nodded with sudden determination. “We will.”

  I had to believe that. Had to say that. Because I didn’t want to think things could get any worse. I mean, I knew they could. Things could always be worse. Other people were worse off. I wasn’t so naïve not to realize that. Bad things happened all the time. Tragic things that made absolutely no sense. You just had to turn on the news or scroll through social media to see evidence of that. It was always there. Noise. Images. All of it ready to drag you down and pull you under.

  I refused to think things could get worse for me, though. I had to stay positive. If I didn’t, then there was just despair.

  “Jenna, all this . . .” I fluttered a hand. “It won’t matter later on.”

  She nodded. “I guess you’re right. Real life begins when we’re free to be ourselves.”

  “That’s kind of profound. Is that a bumper sticker or something?”

  She looked offended. “No.”

  I studied her then. Really looked at her. I supposed she would have theories on that. With parents like hers she was hardly in a position to be herself.

  She capped her lipstick. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s insulting. I do have my moments.” She zipped up her bag and faced me. “That’s what I tell myself, anyway. That’s what gets me through. Someday I’ll be free to be anyone I want to be.”

  And maybe she had more to get through than most, I realized. At least my dad didn’t try to control my life and make me into someone I wasn’t.

  Jenna acted like everything was okay and she was happy to chase guys like Hayden. But that was all it was. Acting.

  Stuffing her makeup bag in her backpack, she flashed me a bright smile. “See you later.”

  The door thudded behind her. Shaking off my sudden introspection, I exited the bathroom and headed for the library, continuing on my earlier mission.

  Once inside the library, I searched among the tables on the first level. No luck there. I went to the second and then I spotted him.

  I dropped my bag on the table across from Grayson. The sound was louder than I intended, and several kids lifted their heads to glare at me. I smiled apologetically and sank down in the chair across from Grayson.

  “Hi!” The word bubbled out of me. I couldn’t help myself. I was excited.

  He watched me almost suspiciously, one dark eyebrow arched. We’d never really talked much at school before.

  I unzipped my backpack and dug around for what I wanted to show him.

  He leaned across the table, his voice low as he asked, “You do realize you’re in the library.”

  I paused and gave him a look. “Yeah, smart-ass. I know. I’ve actually been in here before.”

  I resumed my hunt through the messy contents of my bag.

  “You look happy,” he murmured.

  “Because I am.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happy.”

  I paused, realizing he was right. He’d come into my life when things were pretty much at an all-time low. I’d lost Zach and virtually Dad, too. Dana was moving in. I shrugged. “Know me long enough and you get to see all sides of me. See how lucky you are?”

  He shook his head, but a corner of his mouth lifted like he wanted to smile.

  Finding what I was looking for, I yanked my quiz out with a flourish and slapped it down on the table. Beaming, I pointed. “Bam!”

  His gaze landed on the circled 81 at the top of the paper.

  He fell back in his chair and smiled slowly, his hand coming up to frame his mouth as though he wanted to shield his delight. It was almost as though he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. And that smile. It was a lethal thing.

  He nodded. “Good job, Hidalgo.”

  I performed tiny little air claps on both sides of my head. “Thank you. Thank you. But I can’t take all the credit. I had this super-smart tutor. He’s kinda rude but he teaches really good.”

  “Well,” he corrected.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re off the clock, but fine. Well.”

  “I bet you get an A on the next one.”

  “I don’t know about that. When can we meet again? Tomorrow? I have this really long review packet due next Monday and it counts as a quiz grade too.”

  “I have plans after school.”

  “All afternoon?”

  “Yeah. I’m booked.”

  “Oh. Okay. Busy guy. When, then? I hate leaving it until Sunday. I have a soccer game on Saturday that’s going to take most of the day. It’s all the way on the other side of town.”

  “Get as much done as you can. I’ll check it Sunday night and we’ll go over any you miss or don’t know.”

  “Okay.”

  He nodded and I realized we were done. We didn’t have anything else to talk about, and I needed to get back to athletics
and let him work on whatever it was he was doing.

  Still I sat there, searching for something to say. And I came up with it. “Do you know Willa Evans?”

  He stared at me for a second. “Yeah, she’s your best friend. You’ve got pictures of you two plastered all over your bedroom.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What about her?”

  I felt a stab of misgiving as he stared at me. Then I cast my doubt aside and said it: “You want to go out with her?”

  Nothing changed in his expression. In fact, as the moments slid past, I wasn’t sure he’d heard me.

  I waved a hand in front of him. “Hey, you there?”

  “You’re asking me to go out with your friend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  I laughed nervously. “What do you mean, why? Why not? She’s fun and smart.” I motioned at him. “You’re . . . smart. Super smart.”

  He snorted. “But not fun?”

  I waved that off. “No verdict on that yet. I’ve only been around you in a tutoring capacity.”

  “So we’re both smart? That’s why we should go out?”

  “She’s cute,” I added, “and you’re . . .”

  My voice died. But the thought was there. Immediate and resounding. Sexy.

  He stared, waiting.

  I was taking too long.

  “You’re cute, too,” I supplied, my face erupting into fire.

  “Cute.” He gave a single, hard nod and then started gathering his things up in abrupt movements.

  “So is that a yes?”

  “No.”

  “No?” I frowned at that emphatic refusal, feeling both offended on Willa’s behalf and relieved, too. I had no idea where the relief was coming from, though. This had been my idea. It was a good idea, and now I had to explain to poor Willa that he wasn’t interested in going out with her.

  Zipping up his bag, he pushed up from the table. “Look, I don’t have time to date. And no offense to your friend, but she’s not my type.”

  I blinked. “You have a type?”

  “Yeah,” he bit out, and then walked off.

  Grabbing my bag, I took off after him. “Hey, we were in the middle of a conversation.”