"So why'd you run away before breakfast?" Maddy asked.
"Ahh, you know what my mom's like when she's tired."
"Not really, no."
I scuffed my foot against the floor. I knew it irritated Maddy that I never asked her back to my house. I glossed over the little dig.
"She was just in a mood. I didn't want to deal with it." How easily I lied.
"Guess all the ghosts kept her awake last night."
I shoved Mads in the ribs with my elbow. It was a standing joke that our house was haunted. Maddy had nearly died when she found out where I lived. That made it a little bit easier to keep friends away—and to explain the ghostly faces at the windows sometimes. Not many people wanted a sleepover in Crumbly Towers.
"Don't you feel lonely in that massive house, just the two of you?"
"Sometimes, a bit," I answered honestly, although not for the reasons she thought. Life could be very lonely when half your household hated you.
"Must be nice not to have to worry about money, though?"
This was Maddy's not very subtle way of digging into my family background. She knew Mom used to be a nurse years ago, but now she was a writer. Maddy seemed to think we had J. K. Rowling amounts of money. We didn't. Mom had to write a lot of books to keep us going—romance stories mostly—ironic, eh? My mom, who only ever saw the grocery man. Paula Houldin, Natalie Wilde, and Verity Sunlight were all my mom. Last count she'd written forty-three books, but we weren't exactly swilling champagne every night.
A nugget of guilt about helping out more nudged at the edge of my brain. I nudged it right back and changed the subject. "Did you talk to Ed last night?"
"Yeah," said Maddy. "He sent me a copy of his personal statement."
"Nice," I said. "Really romantic."
"Oh shut up, Webb, we can't all be madly in love. I can't believe it'll be us next, getting our college applications ready. It only seems like five minutes since you took Kristal Mitchell down for the first time. Pow!"
Maddy mimed a little punch and then hugged me to her side, quick and sharp. She always exaggerated that scene in the folklore of our friendship. Kristal had gathered a gaggle of girls to bitch about Maddy, and Six had waded in, stamping her foot and shouting, "You're just mean. She's brown, not dirty."
It was one of the few memories Six had passed on; she'd been pretty proud of herself that day. I smiled, thinking about it.
Maddy said, "I wonder what we'll end up doing?"
Talk about the future made my chest hurt but I managed to mumble, "Mmmm ..."
Luckily, Mads was in full flow. "Poor Ed's totally stressed out. Did you know he's got a weekend job at the skate park? Hey, maybe we should go on Saturday?"
"Erm, really, Mads ... ? Are you serious?"
"No. Brief moment of madness."
Maddy talked a lot about boys, but she never, ever did anything about it. All she really cared about, no matter what she said, was good grades and getting into a decent university. Still, it was such a familiar routine, the walk to school, Maddy talking about whichever boy she was focusing on that week. I pulled her chatter around me like a warm blanket.
I was an expert at half listening, at saying the right thing at the right time. My head churned with thoughts I didn't want to have. Filling it with Maddy talk was like smoothing cream on my itchy skin. I'd lose that if I told Maddy what my condition was really like. She'd want to know everything. Everything. I could never use her to wipe it away; it would always be there, all the time.
"So what do you think?" Maddy said.
So much for half listening. I'd completely missed what she said. "Erm. Isn't it today you get your math results back?"
Maddy covered her face with pink, fluffy-gloved fingers, and groaned.
"Come on, Mads, you'll do great."
"I won't."
"Course you will, you always do."
"Hmm, I sometimes wish I'd done drama—prancing around and making masks, or whatever it is you do. Or textiles—a nice bit of sewing. Why are all your subjects so much fun while all of mine are boring?"
"Shut up, my nerdy friend. You know you love it." I slipped my arm through hers, my fingers squishing into the padded warmth of her coat. "Anyway, you'll be the one earning loads of money one day while I ..."
I blinked. Caught off guard by my own stupidity. I wouldn't be doing anything, would I? Not unless I found a cure. I scrabbled for something to save my tumbling thoughts, but Maddy cut in. "While you live a life of fun and frolic. I know. Which reminds me, you missed the first fashion show meeting; you better be coming to the one tonight."
"Erm ..." I shrank a little bit. "I can't. I've got to get home, Mom needs me to help out with a story she's writing."
Well, that was the worst lie ever.
"You're such a liar, Tee. Honestly. Come on, you have to do it—it's tradition. All the juniors and seniors do it. You know Ollie'll be there? His group is modeling skiwear and dancing to 'Let It Snow.'"
"Mmm ..."
"Literally everyone does it, Tee—it raises so much money for charity. Think of all the starving children in Africa. They need you! Last year they raised over five thousand dollars."
She stepped in front of me and held both my arms. "Please, Tee? Loads of cool stores are lending us stuff. Everyone is getting involved. Even the geeky tech boys are doing lights and stuff. It'll be a laugh—it's just one dance."
I struggled to give her another excuse. The truth was, there were loads of reasons why I didn't want to do it. Everyone thinks drama students love any chance to show off, but that's not true—acting is a bit like hiding, and that was something I did every day of my life. Modeling showed far too much of me. The actual me. Plus, I'd have to try and persuade Mom to come, or look like a totally unloved loser, and Mom was highly unlikely ever to leave the house unless it was on fire. So I said, "It's not real fashion, is it? It's stupid stuff like stinky thrift stores. And I bet the seniors give us all the rubbish clothes, like the stuff from the costume shop. Didn't some of them have to dress up in sumo outfits last year?"
"Yeah, that was hilarious. I thought you loved it."
The memory popped up clear as day; Fifteen had definitely loved it. I tried a new tactic.
"What's your group even doing?"
"Our group, Tee. I put your name down too."
I flicked a look at her, and she raised her eyebrows in defiance.
"All right," I said. "What's our group doing?"
"Don't freak out. It's funny, okay?"
"What is it?"
"Promise you won't have a hissy fit?"
"Maddy!"
"All right, all right ... outdoor shoes."
"Outdoor shoes? Like hiking boots?"
"Yeah, the camping shop is lending them. Oh come on, it's for charity, Teva. And it's supposed to be fun. Not everyone can do ball gowns. That would be boring."
She looked at the floor, and I felt like the world's worst friend. The world's worst charity-scorning friend. And shoes and boots were kind of okay, weren't they? You wouldn't show much skin modeling shoes and boots. I tucked my hand in my pocket, flicking the cover off my phone, but I was saved from making a decision when Maddy spotted Ed waiting at the school gates.
"Eek!"
"Maddy, you actually just squeaked."
"Oh shut up, Tee. Is he waiting for us, do you think? Has my nose turned red in the cold?"
She rubbed the end of her nose with her glove.
"Yes. You are practically Rudolf."
Maddy slapped my arm and switched on her hundred-watt smile. A bounce crept into her walk, and she flicked her head from side to side like she was in a shampoo commercial.
I couldn't help letting out a little snorty giggle.
"Shut up," said Maddy, without ruining her beautiful, slightly mad grin. She gave an extra flick of her head.
My cheeks ached trying not to laugh. "You're literally Ed-sessed."
"Easy for you to say, Mrs. I've-got-a-boyfriend."
She waved at Ed and sparkled. "Ed! Hi. You waiting for someone?"
He stood a little taller and swung his backpack over his shoulder. "I saw you coming and thought, you know ..."
My phone vibrated in my pocket, humming through my body. I pulled it out, hoping it would be Ollie. I wasn't disappointed:
Waiting by gym xx
"Sorry, guys, Ollie wants to see me before homeroom. I better run. Hey, Ed, you can carry Maddy's books for her?"
Maddy swung her bag at my legs, but I'd already skipped off, calling, "See you in ten!"
I ran the distance between Maddy and Ollie. Partly because I wanted to feel wrapped up in him and partly because, without Maddy's bubbling chatter, all the worry I'd managed to push down would just seep back up to the surface, making my head hurt and my heart pound and, and, and ...
As soon as I saw him, I stopped racing and walked, drinking in the sight of him. He had his headphones clamped over his ears and one leg crooked up against the gym wall. He was playing on his phone. My solid rock in a rough, rough sea. I'd read some of Mom's Paula Houldin books. I knew my heart was supposed to race and my knees turn to jelly when I saw him, but it wasn't like that with us. I felt like that when I wasn't with him, not when I was.
Walking up to Ollie was like being slowly pulled into his orbit of normal. He looked up and saw me, his face cracking into the widest smile ... I couldn't help but be lifted by it. Pulling his earphones down around his neck, he came toward me, rocking from side to side as he walked—I loved his swagger. I knew he seemed cocky, but he was actually really sweet. The Ollie he showed to the world was a tough guy, a bit of a bro maybe, but when he traced his thumb over my cheek ... when he gently touched the tip of his nose to my nose ... when he twined his fingers into mine, our hands palm to palm, and held me in his gaze ... sometimes I thought he half powered my life.
"Morning," I said, pulling him closer with my words.
"Morning." He tucked his hand behind my neck and pulled me into a full on-the-mouth kiss. I sank into it. If he wanted to show the whole school I was his, I wasn't going to argue with that.
He slipped his arm around my shoulder as we walked to class. I loved the feeling of belonging, even if it pushed my neck into a funny angle. Since that first day on the beach, my first day with him, Fifteen's feelings, her memories of Ollie, had become mine. I had willingly absorbed them, blended with them. My hand had slipped into his with such a sense of connection: I belonged. I tipped my head toward his and he kissed the top of it, like I knew he would.
"Soccer good last night?" I asked.
"It was all right."
"Did you get your English done?" Why? Why did I even mention it?
He didn't answer.
A little anxious burst squeezed my insides. I looked up at him. I should have shut up then but I didn't. "You've got to pass English this year, Oll. You want to get into a decent college, don't you? You might wind up in some terrible job or something."
"I know, I'm trying, it's just so boring."
"I'll help you. You just have to ask."
"You promised me you wouldn't go on about it."
I bit my lip. That so wasn't true. I'd said no such thing.
Ollie kicked at an imaginary can in front of him. "War poetry. Who needs that stuff in real life anyway?"
"Yeah. I know, but ..."
I wasn't a genius like Maddy, but, miraculously—given it was Fifteen who'd taken the exams—we'd done all right on the PSAT. Considering she knew she'd never need those results, that it would always be another one of us that benefited from them, it amazed me she'd done so much work. She'd even got an A+ in textiles, which meant my teacher totally loved me. Ollie had messed up his grades—if he passed this year, it would be by the skin of his teeth. As we walked toward school, I could feel the worry of him failing throbbing in me like a living thing.
I couldn't leave it alone.
"I just want you to have options."
He stiffened at my side and still I didn't let it go.
"When is your actual exam?"
"I don't know, couple of weeks? Please, just leave it, okay? They're not going to fail me. Look at me, what would colleges do without me?"
What would I do without you? A shudder rippled through me, spiking the hairs on my arms.
"Yeah, you're right. It'll be fine. I know."
My stomach churned. I had a horrible feeling it wouldn't be fine. Mind you, somewhere, not all that deep down, I always had that feeling.
"Just leave it, okay. You promised."
"I don't think I did."
"Yeah you did, last night on Facebook."
"But I ..." My mouth closed. I didn't speak to him on Facebook last night.
Fifteen.
It had to be. What had she said? God, that girl.
I quizzed him lightly. "And what else did I say?"
He chuckled, before pulling me tightly into his side.
"You can be a wicked girl, Teva Webb, wicked."
The churning in my stomach doubled. It was my own fault. I hadn't changed the password on our Facebook account out of guilt. I'd wanted her to have something, to at least be able to see our friends. I should have known she wouldn't just look at pictures. I wouldn't either, in her situation. And I wouldn't just sit at home while someone else lived my life. I'd be looking for a way to get it back.
And so would she.
