I’ve already pissed off the popular kids.
Did you really think you’d be BFFs with a group of girls?
It’s Sunday night and I’m texting Sophia instead of reading about the civil war.
No. But one seems semi-okay. And I met a cool chick from another school.
And the boys...?
Evan is cool but I think Mike likes him.
Cally we talked about this. No crushing on gay guys.
Mike—Mikayla. She’s the semi-okay girl.
Why can’t people have normal names?
I smile. Sophia would devour Brianna.
I wish you moved with me.
xoxo.
***
There’s a special kind of suckiness to waking up on Monday morning and dreading going to school for more reasons than simply because it’s Monday. I haven’t heard from Brianna or Mike since they dropped me off Saturday evening and my stomach’s in knots. I hope they decide to ignore me, but Brianna strikes me as the kind of person to make my life a living hell. “It was nice while it lasted,” I mutter as I head downstairs for breakfast.
Dad’s leaning against the counter, pen in one hand, coffee in the other. A half-eaten granola bar is on the counter next to his notebook and tablet. “Good morning.”
I nod at the tablet on my way to the pantry. A day like today calls for Cocoa Crispies. “What’s new in the world?”
He takes a sip before swapping the coffee for the granola bar. “Oh, you know. War, poverty, a new brew for the opening.”
I stop with my hand midway to the box of cereal. “You finished it?”
“We transfer to the secondary today.”
“Dad, this is huge. You said it might not be ready for another couple months.” Calliope Brewery doesn’t release new beers very often—maybe once every couple years—and it has such a devout following back home that people skip work to be one of the first to try it.
He smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkling. He looks tired, but happy. “We sampled it yesterday. I wasn’t sure how it’d turn out—you know how the first few batches can go.”
Yeah, terrible. For my thirteenth birthday, Dad debuted a raspberry wheat—because I’m so sweet, ugh—but they didn’t get it right until six months after my birthday. Nailing a new recipe in time for the opening is like kicking the winning field goal of the SuperBowl with no time left on the clock.
I set the cereal on the counter and give him a hug. “I’m proud of you.”
He squeezes back.
If only being the most beer-informed fifteen-year old in the world can carry me through whatever’s in store today at school.
***
The Snow Bunnies either decided to let my transgression slide or it didn’t bother them as much as I thought. They were their normal Queen-Bee selves—smiling to those they felt worthy, ignoring or rolling their eyes at those deemed beneath them—and over the next few weeks, I slipped into their routine. I’ve met up with them each weekend to ski, but I always duck away to hit the terrain park with Amber.
One month into my new school and I finally feel like I belong.
Sort of.
Even though I’m hanging out with the Bunnies, I refuse to become one of them. I won’t be mean to anyone just because Brianna tells me to, and there’s no way in hell I’m wearing the stupid tracksuit thing Brianna keeps texting me to buy, no matter how cute she thinks I’ll look in the teal version. And I’ve started running after school. I may not be on a team but my body doesn’t need to know that, plus the exercise keeps my mind calm.
Mike hasn’t opened up to me since that first day skiing. I can’t figure out if she regrets spilling her guts to the new girl or if she’s decided she doesn’t like me, but either way, I’m bummed I haven’t seen that side of her again. The normal side.
And I’m still not over Blake. I’ve become a master at watching him out of the corner of my eye, gathering intel about him whenever I can. I know he’s best friends with Luke, the skinny guy from English class, and I think he works at an Italian place near the pedestrian mall downtown. And I know he’s still curious about me because I catch him looking at me at least once a day. But every time I try to talk to him his face becomes ice and he walks away.
It’s torture.
I carry my tray to Brianna’s table, second-guessing my choice of a shrink-wrapped turkey sandwich, when Brianna looks my way and smiles.
“Hey, Cally.”
I take the empty seat across from her between Evan and Mike, nerves on edge, and pick up my sandwich. “What’s up?”
Brianna exchanges glances with Kenzie. “Well....” she draws out. “We were just talking about you.”
Color me shocked. Brianna always starts conversations this way and there’s no telling what’s coming next. I glance at Evan, who lifts his shoulders and shakes his head. No help there. “And?”
Brianna nudges Kenzie, who picks up the conversation. “Since you’re new and still meeting people, we thought you should have a party!” Kenzie’s voice lifts at the end, like she rehearsed this.
“A party?”
“Yeah,” Brianna says. “My mom and I toured the new houses in Harmony Hills last fall and they’re absolutely gorgeous.”
Kenzie smiles at me and bobs her head, a shining example of the Snow Bunnies’ group dynamic. Brianna is the lead bitch and not to be trifled with, and Kenzie is her errand girl—but I haven’t figured out where Mike fits in. She already confessed she doesn’t like Brianna, but there must be a bigger reason than social suicide keeping her around.
Evan bumps my tray with his. “So whaddaya say, Cal? Party at your place?” His eyes lock with mine and I straighten my tray.
“I’ll have to talk to my dad.”
Brianna props her elbows on the table and rests her chin in her hand, not a care in the world. “Text him now.”
“What’s the urgency?”
“I like to have my calendar locked at the beginning of the week.”
My traitorous eyebrow shoots upward before I can stop it but at least I keep my eyes from rolling back. “I’ll ask him tonight. He’s got a big day at work and I don’t want to bug him with something silly—”
“Oh? What’s going on?”
The shift in conversation makes me pause. Since Brianna’s dad owns one of the established breweries, anything I say might go straight to him. It’s like she’s been steering me to talk about the brewery since I sat down. Really, since I met her.
I shrug. “You know. Chair delivery. Glasses. That sort of thing.” I force a smile. “It’s really coming together.”
Disappointment mars her face, but is quickly replaced by a smile. “Text me as soon as he says yes.”
My instincts are humming. She’s up to something, but I need someone who knows her better to figure out her motives. I face Mike, who hasn’t said a word, and lower my voice. “Do you want to get coffee after school?”
She looks at me but her eyes blank. It’s like she never confided in me on the chairlift.
Kenzie pipes up. “You should! Maybe you can convince Cally that this party will be beneficial to her social standing.”
Seriously, who talks like that? The warning in Kenzie’s voice doesn’t escape me, but I refuse to let them bully me.
Mike shrugs. “Sure, why not.”
We make plans to meet at my locker at the end of the day, and the boys take over the conversation, talking about the upcoming ski meet this weekend. Just because they aren’t on the team doesn’t mean they aren’t obsessed with how the team is doing.
In English, I hustle to my seat, careful not to look at Blake, but he’s not there. I get out my notebook and assume my lecture-listening position—legs crossed at the ankles, one arm on the desk, my pen in the other hand—when he breezes through the door.
A few people glance at him as he makes his way to his desk, but he’s so gorgeous I don’t understand how every girl isn’t staring. His perfectly mussed hair screams for fingers to run through it and his lips make me ache to kiss him. I shift in my seat, feeling suddenly warm. His gaze lands on me, just for a second, but it’s enough to send my pulse through the roof.
I look away first and stare at the whiteboard until he’s out of my peripheral vision.
Get a grip, Cally.
***
Mike’s waiting for me at my locker after the last class, but she doesn’t look happy about it. “Do you mind if we take the bus?”
Sophomore year is weird because kids start driving throughout the year and you never know who’s sixteen yet. I guess Mike is still fifteen like me.
I smile. “Aside from my dad, it’s my most reliable form of transportation.” And it’s a lot easier to avoid the left side with all those extra seats. I grab my coat from my locker and we fall in step toward the exit. I wait until we’re on the bus to bring up the fact that the cool girl I met on the chairlift seems to have vanished. “Did I do something to—”
She abruptly turns to face me. “I haven’t been fair to you.” Her gaze dips below my chin like she doesn’t want to look me in the eye. “You walked into a crapload of drama.”
“Evan?”
She presses her lip together and her eyes start to water. “Yeah.”
“I thought maybe you liked him.”
She tilts her head back and looks at the ceiling of the bus. “Oh god, is it that obvious?”
I shrug. “I don’t think it is to him. But if you like him, he’s all yours. I’ve been here two seconds and would rather be friends with you than—”
“That’s the thing. I HAD him, but we broke up right before break.”
“Oh.” That makes a little more sense.
We’re silent until we step off the bus at the fringe of a cobblestone pedestrian mall. Wrought iron benches line the center path, spaced between metal sculptures of frogs and toads and a woman reclining on a swing, and we pass through a large rock that’s had the middle cut out. A pang of longing grabs my heart when we pass a pair of mothers with strollers, but I brush it off by opening the door of a children’s boutique for them. Mothers shopping with their children, especially teens, always makes me sad. When we reach the coffee shop on the next block, we hurry past a man playing a violin with an open case at his feet and step inside.
I place my order first, grab a table in the back corner, and settle in. Mike waits at the counter for our drinks and when she sits next to me, I shake off the nostalgia the mothers sparked and lean toward her. “Seriously, I know we barely know each other but I don’t do drama and I definitely don’t chase after guys who my friends like.”
A smile lifts the corner of her mouth when I call her my friend. “I’d forgotten people like you exist.”
I drop my gaze, unsure how to respond without saying something about Brianna that I might regret. “Besides, I’m not exactly a dating phenom. Back home I only had one female friend, Sophia. The rest of my group was all guys and none of them were interested in me.” Jake flits through my mind and I feel a twinge of regret laced with guilt. I should be having this conversation with Sophia.
Mike sips her latte. “I find that hard to believe. I mean, Cally, have you looked in a mirror?”
My cheeks warm. I pull a strand of hair across my face to shield myself from the compliment. “Okay, there’s one boy who liked me, but that’s not gonna happen.”
“Because he’s in Vermont?”
I snort and roll my eyes. “Worse.” And I tell her about Blake.
Her eyes get wider and wider. “And he knows you moved here?”
I nod, and my head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. “We have English together.” To get through the day I banish all thoughts of Blake, but now the frustration and hurt from the past two months washes over me.
“What a dick.”
“That’s about as far as I’ve gotten, too.”
“So you don’t like Evan?”
I shrug. “He was the first person I met here. He’s a nice guy and,” I smile, “he’s not so bad to look at.”
She smiles, but she looks sad.
“But I just like him as a friend. Besides, I can’t be interested in anyone else while Blake is still rattling around in my head.”
Mike lifts her cup. “Here’s to not understanding boys.”
I touch my cup to hers, then take a sip.
She traces her finger around the rim of her cup. “You really haven’t talked to Blake?”
“I tried my first day, but he gave me a weird look and walked away without saying anything.”
“Ouch.” She pauses. “What if you invite him to the party?”
My mind jumps back to lunch. “What’s with Brianna pushing that on me?”
She rolls her eyes. “Just what she said. Her stupid social calendar, blah blah. She had a party at the end of break so her parents won’t let her have another one until later this month.”
“Good thing I came along.”
“I get not wanting to have it just for her, but it’ll be a good way to meet people. She can be a bitch, but she does draw a crowd.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be a bad thing to make more friends.”
Mike smiles for real this time.
“Brianna’s already warned me off Blake. What’s she gonna think if he shows up?”
“You think he will?”
“If I knew what that boy was thinking we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Good point.” She shrugs. “What’s the worst that can happen? Brianna’s head explodes and life as we know it ends.”
I laugh. “When you put it that way.”
Now to figure out how to get the boy who’s ignored me for months to not only talk to me, but show up at my house. Maybe he’ll talk to me outside of school and I can finally get some answers about why he lied.
But not until I clear my conscience with Sophia.