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"Forget it," Jade said, b.u.mping me with her shoulder. "And may the best girl, you know...not make a fool of herself over him."
"Right," I agreed.
She swiveled around in her seat toward Serena, whose sulk instantly brightened. "Doesn't Allison's hair look cute today, Serena?"
"Yes! I was just going to say-"
Jade cut her off, turning back to me. "Not frizzy at all, in the front. Do you want me to do a loose braid in the back, Allison?"
"Sure," I said. I turned away and closed my eyes while her gentle fingers tugged at my hair and then tied one of her hair bands around the bottom.
She and Serena flanked me all day long, and Roxie hardly spoke to me. That night when I got dropped off at Jade's, Serena was already there. We hung around for a while, and then Jade's dad drove us over to the mall. We wandered around until the movie started, then sank into our seats twenty minutes early, because Jade likes to get tenth row center seats and settle in without rus.h.i.+ng. We slumped down, knees against the seats in front of us, and watched the ads and then the previews and then the movie. Afterwards, Jade's dad picked us up and drove us all home. I got dropped off first.
"Hi," Mom said when I walked in the door. She was sitting at the kitchen counter, bent over her laptop as usual. "Have fun?"
"A blast," I said, and clomped up to bed.
Another large weekend in the fabulous life of a glamour girl.
But then Sat.u.r.day morning, Roxie called me. I picked up my phone from a sound sleep and it took me a minute to figure out that it wasn't Jade I was talking to. What gave it away was when she asked, "Is there anything at all to do in this town?"
"Nothing at all," I said, and sat up in my bed.
"Want to come over and watch movies all night at my house, then? Or we could play Guitar Hero, or stare at the walls until our eyes fall out?"
"Sounds awesome," I said. I took a shower, attempted to do something with my hair, gave up, and packed my bag. When I went downstairs, n.o.body was around, so I left a note saying where I'd be. I considered how to sign it-Love? Love ya? Love you all? I just wrote I just wrote Allison Allison and left. and left.
The sky, finally gloomifying after weeks of gaudy blue, pressed down on everything. No birds were singing in the trees; n.o.body was out walking a dog or even driving too fast down our perfect street.
Hallelujah.
My phone buzzed. Jade.
Serena and I are gonna play tennis at the town courts. Want to come?
I so didn't, even though I knew Ty and those guys often hung out there, shooting hoops next to the tennis courts. I knew Jade was being generous, not wanting to sneak around and get an advantage without giving me a fair shot at equal time. If I want any chance with Ty, If I want any chance with Ty, I told myself, I told myself, I should ditch Roxie and go I should ditch Roxie and go. The thought made me feel incredibly sleepy. I stood there holding my phone in the middle of the road.
Before I could figure out what do, Jade texted again: What r u doing? What r u doing?
I considered for a moment what to say, and then decided on something kind of bold: I told her the truth.
Going over to Roxie Green's.
In two seconds, she'd texted back ????.
She's great, I answered, walking fast toward Roxie's. I answered, walking fast toward Roxie's. We should be nice. We should be nice. Jade was all about being nice, good manners, the importance of acting appropriate, so there was nothing she could say to that. I hit Send and skipped up Roxie's steps. Jade was all about being nice, good manners, the importance of acting appropriate, so there was nothing she could say to that. I hit Send and skipped up Roxie's steps.
Absolutely. Just be careful, Jade sent back. Jade sent back. She's not like us. I don't trust her & I don't want u 2 b hurt. She's not like us. I don't trust her & I don't want u 2 b hurt.
Thanks, I texted her. I texted her. Have fun. Have fun.
I slipped my phone into my pocket and rang Roxie's doorbell. She flung it open and said, "Great! You're here!" and pulled me in. "Do you like cookie dough?"
"Ice cream?"
"No," she said. "Just dough. I made some."
"Excellent," I said. We sank into the deepest couch I'd ever seen, surrounded by dozens of pillows, eating raw cookie dough and watching stupid stuff on TV for the rest of the afternoon. I left my phone in my bag in Roxie's front hall and didn't give it another thought. It was awesome.
At night we changed into pajamas and went to her rec house next door with flashlights. We spent about an hour jumping on her trampoline until we were sweaty and exhausted, and then we just lay there making ourselves seasick on it. Then we ran back to her regular house through the rain. We stayed up in her room until it was starting to get light out, listening to music and laughing, like when I asked her if my lips disappear when I smile. That completely cracked her up, and then me, too.
"I like the sound the rain makes against windows," she said as we were settling down to sleep under puffy comforters.
"I'm just glad the weather has finally caught up with my personality," I said.
We fell asleep giggling and didn't wake up until noon.
Over bowls of cereal on that dreary Sunday afternoon, Roxie's mother, Jenny, brought up the idea that changed everything.
"There's an open call tomorrow," she said from behind a newspaper called Backstage. Backstage.
"Modeling?" Roxie asked.
"Yes," Jenny answered. "Hey, Allison, you know zip zip?"
"Yeah," I said, feeling myself blush. "Approximately." What had I done that was so stupid?
Roxie, laughing, went and found a copy of a magazine called zip zip in a basket near their back door. I recognized it as the same one I had taken from Phoebe's room the other night, but I just shrugged. I hate those magazines-all those skinny, perfect girls selling junk. in a basket near their back door. I recognized it as the same one I had taken from Phoebe's room the other night, but I just shrugged. I hate those magazines-all those skinny, perfect girls selling junk.
Jenny shoved over the ten boxes of cereal she had taken out for us to choose among and laid down the paper. Her smile and dimples were as bright and cute as Roxie's, though her voice was deeper and more ragged.
She pushed her long, wavy hair back from her forehead with her thumb and pinky and read the ad out loud to us: "'Zip magazine, looking for edgy but clean-cut non-pros for feature on the new teen. All types, open call. Monday, May nineteenth, ten a.m. to one p.m.' magazine, looking for edgy but clean-cut non-pros for feature on the new teen. All types, open call. Monday, May nineteenth, ten a.m. to one p.m.'
"Then the address and all that. What do you say?" Jenny looked at us, full of gung-ho enthusiasm. "You two are definitely edgy but clean-cut!"
"We are?" Roxie asked dubiously.
"Compared to how I was at your age, h.e.l.l, yeah," Jenny said, and laughed. She propped her knees up on the table and shook her head. "At least clean-cut. And edgy is easy: all in the clothes."
"Modeling?" I said. "Not me, obviously."
"But you're exactly the type," Jenny said. She leaned forward to get a closer look.
I ducked my head and said, "I'm not."
"Oh, come on, Allison," Roxie begged. "You're my right-handed man. Let's just go. Gotta be better than school, right?"
"Well, if it's okay with your mom," Jenny offered, getting up to put away the cereal boxes, "I can drive you girls to the train tomorrow morning."
"I'll ask," I lied.
Roxie and I went back up to her room, and over the course of the day, I gave in little by little. I didn't put up that much of a fight, if I'm honest. I gave in when she said I could just go and hang out with her. I didn't have to get my picture taken at all if I didn't want to, and anyway, wouldn't it be better than being at school?
Honestly, there was no possible argument against that.
But I knew there was no way my parents would ever let me cut school to go with Roxie Green to have her picture taken. No matter how much my parents say it's important to stand by your friends, they don't completely mean it. Like, Mom and Jade's mom only smile tightly when they see each other now. They used to sit on a park bench and totally gossip all summer when we were little. So I knew I'd never win that argument on the merits. Anyway, they had been saying for my whole life that I should be less argumentative.
That's why I decided not to have the argument.
Also, they were having enough arguments without me. Since I hadn't gotten the baby monitor out of the study, I listened in when they were whispering at each other Sunday night. I couldn't hear the whole thing, but it was definitely about money. Mom was saying, "I've got it under control, Jed," and "We really don't need the entire neighborhood buzzing about our business"; he kept murmuring to her, too, lots that I couldn't hear, but what I did hear him say was, "I just think it's inappropriate to be spending that kind of money right now on a party for an eighth-grade graduation. It's obscene! And we can't, Claire. We can't."
"Don't say we can't," she snarled. "I can certainly-"
"She's canceling," he said. "It's done."
Then they were back to whispering, but that was enough. Obviously they were making Phoebe cancel her graduation party, poor thing. I wondered how Phoebe would deal.
Knowing her, she would just somehow turn it to her advantage and become even more popular.
Roxie texted me as I was drifting off to sleep that night that she had told her mother I had to drop off something first period and then they could pick me up at the corner down from school to go to the train. I texted back OK, OK, then placed my phone beside the baby monitor on my nightstand and stared at both things without blinking until my eyes burned. then placed my phone beside the baby monitor on my nightstand and stared at both things without blinking until my eyes burned.
I went to sleep to the lullaby of my parents' whispered arguments, and woke up before dawn, dreading the day.
6.
I GUESS GUESS I I WAS KIND OF WAS KIND OF a wreck in the morning waiting for the bus, because Quinn asked what was wrong with me in a way that made me think she somehow knew what I was planning to do. I swore her to secrecy and told her. a wreck in the morning waiting for the bus, because Quinn asked what was wrong with me in a way that made me think she somehow knew what I was planning to do. I swore her to secrecy and told her.
"You're cutting school?"
"Just this once," I explained.
"Why? Perversity?"
"Maybe," I said. "If I knew what that word meant, I would tell you if that's the reason."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "It's like, being bad just for the sake of being bad."
"Oh," I said. "No. Not perversity. Being bad just for the sake of being a good friend. Perfriendity."
She shook her head, disappointed. "Since when are you even friends with Roxie Green? Who cuts school to wander around the city and get her picture taken by G.o.d knows who? I don't think I like this girl."
"Well, you don't have to," I said.
"Think, Allison. You're taking a train and then a subway to G.o.d knows where without permission so some stranger can take pictures of you?"
"Roxie knows where, too," I insisted. "She's from there. Don't worry."
Quinn opened her light blue eyes very wide. "Are you an idiot or suicidal?"
"Neither," I said. "And I'm not getting MY picture taken, I told you. I'm just going with Roxie. I'll be back at school before the end of the day, so n.o.body will-You know what? Forget it. I shouldn't have told you-"
"You're an idiot," she interrupted me. "Just what Mom and Dad need right now is trouble from you again."
"Don't tell them," I warned her. "You promised."
"I won't! I have no intention of hurting them. But can't you just-Fine, whatever. Have fun." She climbed up onto the bus ahead of me.
"Thanks," I said to her back, just as sarcastically.
I sat with my knee bopping uncontrollably through first period, where I got a slip of paper at the end of the cla.s.s with the Fascist's crinkled purple writing on it: Excellent presentation. Thought-provoking. A.
I crumpled it in my hand as I left the cla.s.sroom and shoved it into my backpack. A? Fine, whatever. I headed toward the back door and, rounding a corner, almost slammed into Ms. Chen, the princ.i.p.al, who said, "Let's see some smiles, students! Learning is exhilarating!"
I managed a smile for her, like, Excellent pep talk; my life is turned around now, Excellent pep talk; my life is turned around now, before I hurried down the stairs and out of there. Roxie and her mom were in the car at the bottom of the hill with the motor running and the radio on full blast. I slipped into the backseat and slumped down to make my getaway. before I hurried down the stairs and out of there. Roxie and her mom were in the car at the bottom of the hill with the motor running and the radio on full blast. I slipped into the backseat and slumped down to make my getaway.
"You're bringing your backpack?"
I thought of making up an excuse, but couldn't come up with one. "I never go to my locker," I admitted. "I'm not even sure where it is, maybe over by the gym somewhere? I don't know. Anyway, I kind of forgot the combination by now."
Roxie's mom cracked up, the same loud, barky laugh as Roxie. It was the kind of laugh that was hard to resist joining in on. "That is excellent," she said as we pulled into the train station. "Lost your locker. I love it. Have fun!"
As she drove away, I said to Roxie, "Your mom has the coolest voice. Like almost smoky."
"She used to be a DJ, before she had me."
"You can totally hear why," I said. "A DJ. That's so cool."
"What about your mom?" Roxie asked, looking down the tracks for the train. "What's she like? Typical suburban mom?"
"No. She's a hedge fund manager," I said, and when Roxie looked blank about that, I explained, "It's, like, with money. She's the smartest person I've ever met, the most beautiful, the most perfect."
"Wow," Roxie said. "That must suck."
I laughed, feeling a wave of surprising relief flood through me. "It does," I said as the train thundered into the station. "n.o.body ever got that before. Including me, I think."
Roxie shrugged. "My mother used to be a total h.e.l.lion."
"Really?" I asked. "She seems so sweet."
"Well, she nods too much, like my dad," Roxie said. "But yeah, she's pretty sweet."
"I bet my mom would like her," I said, and then shrugged because maybe that sounded like my mother was desperate for friends or something. Sometimes I could just slap myself.