She Drives Me Crazy(16)



I stare at her. “Tally might be the worst, but she wouldn’t do that. She’s not outright malicious.”

“Yeah, she would. I watched her do it to you for months. She got completely in your head, making you worry that you’re not good enough. You’ve been a walking insecurity since you dated her.”

I pause the movie. “You think I’m a walking insecurity?”

Thora looks straight at me. She never glosses over things. “Right now? Yes. And there’s no reason you should be. You’re smart and cute and really good at basketball. You should be thriving.”

A trickle of bile runs down my throat. “No one else seems to think that.”

“Who cares what anyone else thinks? What do you think?”

“Thora, do you really believe that no one else’s opinion matters?”

“Absolutely.” She shrugs like it’s as easy as two plus two. “At the end of the day, I’m the only person living my life. Why should I answer to anyone else?”

“You obviously don’t remember high school very well.”

She snorts. “Of course I do. The unspoken social hierarchy sucks. But you know what I’ve figured out since then?” She dances her fingers in front of my eyes. “It’s all perception, Scots. Making people see what you want them to see. If you want them to think you matter, start acting like they should already know that you matter.”

Daphne nods. “Fake it till you make it.”

“Exactly,” Thora says.

I scratch BooBoo’s ears, thinking. “You wanna know something stupid? Carpooling with Irene is the coolest I’ve felt all year. Like, it’s the first time people have paid attention to me. Even Tally was jealous. How fucked up is that?”

“Tally was jealous?” Thora laughs humorlessly. “God, that girl is a fucking case study. She’s probably worried that you’re secretly dating Irene.”

I snort. The idea of that is unthinkable. “I would never. I can’t stand that girl.”

“Maybe Irene isn’t as bad as you think,” Daphne says. “Why do you hate her, anyway?”

I pause, considering. I never confided in my sisters about the tow truck incident. It would only open a can of worms if I told them now.

“She’s just a jerk,” I say. “She … kinda messed with me last year.”

Thora’s eyes flash. “What’d she do?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Seriously, nothing. I just don’t like her.”

I can tell Thora wants to press me on it, but she doesn’t. She plants a kiss on my head and goes back to watching the movie with Daphne.

You’ve been a walking insecurity …

Is that true? Judging by the constant ache in my chest, I have to believe it is. But when did I become this way? I didn’t used to care about my social status; I was content to fly under the radar. But that was before Tally. It was also before the tow truck incident.

I always wanted to confront Irene about that prank. I wanted to scream that it was a completely disproportionate reaction to me knocking a drink on her. But the truth is, I was afraid it had nothing to do with spilling my drink. That maybe it was a cruel whim of hers, of all the popular kids’, because I was more of a social pariah than I even knew. The queer, gangly ginger who had no right to be at their party.

After all, isn’t that why Tally left me? Because she could see that, too?





5


Friday is the start of Homecoming weekend. I wake up early, straighten my hair, and pull on the Fighting Reindeer shirt I’ve had since freshman year. Daphne hogs the bathroom mirror, painting bright red GE letters on her cheeks. The middle schoolers are always more excited than anyone for the Homecoming game.

In a twist of irony, this is the earliest I’m ready to leave all week. If I was picking up Irene today, there’s no chance she’d beat me to her driveway. I almost wish she needed a ride just so I could rub it in her face. And maybe so I could apologize for what I said yesterday.

Instead, I use the extra time to pick up coffee for my friends. Sweet Noelle’s, the best coffee shop in town, has painted its windows for the game tonight. When the barista sees me in my Fighting Reindeer shirt, she grins and gives me a free chocolate muffin. I stuff my face with it when I get back in my car, relishing in the privacy of driving alone again.

But when I pull into school a few minutes later, alone hits differently. People glance at my car, but when I’m the only one to get out of it, they turn away. I guess they don’t care about me unless I’m shuttling Irene around.

I’m back to being a nobody, and I hate to admit it stings.

“Hey, happy Friday!” Gunther says when I show up with the coffee tray. “Why the special treat? Is it just because you love us?”

“Because I love you, and because I’m free.” I drop my backpack and lean against Danielle’s locker. “No more carpooling for me.”

I thought it would feel euphoric to announce that, but surprisingly, I feel kind of bereft.

“Ding-dong, the witch is dead,” Kevin says. He passes the coffees around, checking to see their descriptions first. “You sure you want this, Gunther?”

Gunther grimaces. He’s on a black coffee kick because he thinks it makes him more sophisticated. “I guess. Send thoughts and prayers.” He swallows the first sip like a kid taking medicine.

Kelly Quindlen's Books