21

I spent Sunday afternoon and evening pacing the floor of my room, trying to figure out how I’d ended up in this world of shit and, more importantly, how to get myself out. I didn’t know how I’d look TJ in the face again, and I sure as hell couldn’t face Kendall. I’d kissed her boyfriend. Whether he copped to the title or not didn’t matter. My loyalty was supposed to be to Kendall, and TJ was off-limits. Yet I’d not just kissed him—I’d full-on made out with him and groped him. And I loved it. Oh God.

I flopped onto my bed and clamped my hands over my forehead. What had I done? What was I going to do? How had I let myself go from cheater buster to cheating participant?

My cell phone rang and my stomach cramped like it was trying to digest an anvil. When I saw Kendall’s name on the screen, I almost heaved. I ignored the call and shoved my phone under my pillow. A minute later, it rang again. And then again, and then again.

Did she know?

I sat up with a very real fear that I might have to dive for my garbage can and vomit. The ping of my voicemail notification distracted me, keeping the chunks at bay. I slid a clammy hand beneath my pillow and retrieved the phone. When I played the message, Kendall’s small, defeated voice met my ears. She sounded as if she was either holding back tears, or had already spent the morning crying and had none left.

Oh God.

“Marisa, it’s Kendall. Can you call me as soon as you get this? I…could really use a friend right now.”

I lowered the phone. Something was wrong, but she didn’t know about TJ and me. If she did, I’d be the last person on earth she’d call when she needed a friend. Not that I’d call myself anything close to a friend right now.

I picked up the phone and hit her number.

“Marisa?”

“Kendall? What happened?”

For a few seconds, quiet sobs and sniffles were all I heard. Then: “TJ broke up with me.”

• • •

I pulled into the Keenes’ circular driveway about a half an hour later. Kendall had asked me to come over, and I didn’t have the heart to say no, even though a thousand questions were swirling through my mind like whirlpools.

Why had TJ lied to me about being broken up with Kendall? Had he been planning to dump her? And if he’d been cheating on her all along, then why wait until he kissed me to cut her loose?

She opened the door sporting yoga pants, a Juicy Couture sweatshirt, and puffy, red eyes that burned holes of guilt in my soul.

“Come on in,” she sniffled. “I’m watching movies in my room.”

I followed her up the winding staircase to a sizeable room decorated in pink and green accents. Frilly curtains were drawn over the windows, and most of the light came from the TV at the foot of the queen-size bed. A corner of the blankets had been pulled back, revealing pink-and-white flowered sheets and rumpled pillows. Kendall dragged a white armchair up next to the headboard, then promptly climbed under the sheets, curling herself around one of the pillows.

“So,” I said, dropping into the chair and eyeing the TV. “Dirty Dancing?”

“I needed something old and cheesy.”

We were quiet for a minute. “Do you want to talk?”

She looked over at me with watery eyes. “Can you just keep me company for a little bit?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” I leaned back, trying to get comfortable, which was impossible, considering the chair had nothing to do with my discomfort.

The more time that passed with only the sounds from the television and Kendall’s intermittent sniffling, the more terrified I became that I might leap up, shout, “I kissed TJ!” and bolt from the room like the flames of Hell were licking my feet.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I fumbled for my purse and blurted, “I have something I want to give you.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the heart pin I’d been working on since Kendall first commissioned my help. I held it out in the palm of my hand. The right half was a swirl of tiny pink, yellow, and ocean-blue crystals. The left half—

Kendall gasped. “Marisa! Are those shells?”

I nodded. “It’s actually one of the shells you and I collected in Myrtle Beach that year.” I’d crushed it up and arranged the fragments mosaic style on the left side of the pin.

Kendall’s eyes welled up as she took the pin and cupped it in her hand. “I can’t believe you kept those. It was such a long time ago.”

“And here we are again.” After I made out with your boyfriend.

A wistful smile came over her face. “Remember the night we had an ice-cream-eating contest?”

“How could I forget? We were both sick as dogs.”

Kendall laughed. “You threw up in the bathtub.”

“Ugh. And you tried to cover and tell your parents it was you, but I had regurgitated peanut butter sauce stuck in my hair.”

We were both giggling at that point, but as she ran her finger over the shell pieces, she bit her lip. “I have to tell you, Marisa, I said and did a lot of things when we were younger that I’m not proud of. I’ve always been competitive, and all the reasons I liked you were reasons I was jealous of you. I wasn’t a very good friend.” She sniffled and a tear slipped over each cheek. “Can you forgive me?”

Forget salt. This was salt soaked in alcohol soaked in arsenic rubbed in my wound.

“Kendall, why would you be jealous of me? You were pretty and popular and smart. What’s left?”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You were all those things too, but people liked you in spite of it, not because of it. They liked who you were, not what you were. And the grades and the friends and all those things, they came so easily for you. It got to the point where I spent so much time trying to be better than you that I forgot how much I liked being your friend. And by that time, I didn’t really know how to be anyone’s friend.”

I sat back in my chair, not believing my ears. “Whoa. I never knew you felt that way.”

Kendall nodded. “It’s the same thing that happened with TJ. I never expected someone as good as him to go for someone like me. Everyone at Templeton thought I was shallow and fake, and the only person who gave me the time of day turned out to be this amazing guy I never dreamed I’d fall for.” She hung her head. “Now I’ve lost him too.”

I reached for her hand, not sure what to say but knowing I wanted to spill my guts all over her bedroom. Kendall and I had history together, and while it wasn’t always harmonious, we’d still meant something to each other. TJ was a guy I’d developed an ill-timed attraction to.

If Kendall and I were going to be friends again, I’d have to forget about him.

• • •

I slid into my seat in the yearbook classroom, doing everything in my power to avoid looking in TJ’s direction. It didn’t matter, because the moment he saw me, he shifted toward me in his chair.

“Marisa, can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me.”

I stared at my computer screen. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“I think we should talk. There are some things I need to get out in the open.”

Now? Now he wanted to get things out in the open? I didn’t respond.

“Listen, when I said I was sorry I kissed you—”

My hands slammed down on my desk. “Shh!”

He looked around and lowered his voice. “I didn’t mean I was sorry it happened. I mean, I was, but not for the reasons you’re probably thinking.” Ellen Horowitz chose that moment to plop down in the seat in front of TJ’s, and by the way he clenched his jaw and gave her the evil eye, her presence had effectively ended our conversation. “Can we please talk later?” he whispered.

Little did he know, I knew exactly why he was sorry. But I wasn’t ready to face him. I felt too guilty, too conflicted, and I was angry with him for lying. Letting him think he’d offended me with his remorse over kissing me served as the perfect cover.

“I’m not ready to talk, and I don’t know when I will be.”

“You’re wearing my bracelet.”

I looked down at my wrist. “What does that have to do with anything? I like the bracelet.”

A hint of a smile appeared. “I know you like it, but you wouldn’t wear it if you hated the person who made it for you, right?”

I fingered the bracelet, letting his question hang between us. I wasn’t entirely sure of the answer.

He waited, his jaw muscles twitching like he couldn’t decide whether or not to let the point go. “Okay,” he said finally. “Can we at least talk business then?”

I turned toward him, trying my best to make it look like I’d pushed all things personal aside. “Sure. What’s up?”

“So I heard a bunch of senior and junior guys are planning this elaborate promposal together to ask girls to the winter formal.”

“They know it’s not the prom, right?”

I didn’t know why I’d said that. I wasn’t surprised. At Herring Cross, prom lived in the shadow of the winter formal. For whatever reason, that was the dance the school went all out for, with a fancy venue and elaborate holiday decorations and a sit-down dinner. Prom was a paper-streamers-and-hand-made-banners blip on the radar and was held in our stuffy, badly lit gym. Still, I had to be sarcastic. Being a bitch kept me from staring at his lips and reliving our kiss again.

In theory.

“Right,” TJ said, “but if they do it for the real prom, it’s too late to get it in the yearbook. It’s supposed to be huge. They’re filming it to post online and everything. I talked to Mr. C, and he wants me to cover it for the student life section. Except I can’t, because I have to work.”

“Work? When is this thing happening?”

“After school on Friday, in the parking lot at Waterside Pizza. I already asked Ellen if she could cover it, and she can’t.” He side-eyed Ellen’s back. “Do you think you can go?”

Friday was actually the next Templeton football game, the night I needed to stalk Jordan for Sara. If the promposal happened right after school, I should have plenty of time to do both. Not to mention Kendall wanted to get together. We’d been doing that a lot since TJ broke up with her. If I asked her to have pizza with me, I could kill two birds with one stone. Not that my answer was anywhere near as civil or logical as my thought process.

“Why not? I don’t have a life or anything.”

TJ frowned. “If you can’t do it, I can talk to my uncle about going in late. But it’s Christmas season and we’re really busy and—”

“I’ll do it. Don’t be a martyr.”

He slumped in his chair and nodded before turning back to his computer. Cue Marisa feeling awful for being such a raging bitch. I sighed. “TJ?”

He looked at me.

“Maybe we can talk next week, okay?”

His hopeful smile melted my heart, and I didn’t know who I should smack first—him or myself.