BFF Breakup (21 page)

“And after all we did,” Julia said. “To her, I mean.”

She looked at Susanna, who shrugged and said, “It's true. After all that, do you really think she'd just e-mail you and be like nothing ever happened?”

“I don't know,” I said. Because I didn't.

“All I'm saying,” Susanna said, “is to think about it. Like, why would she choose to do this now? The same week I wore that necklace? The timing seemed a little convenient.”

“Susanna's right,” Julia said. “It might be a trick. She might be setting you up or something.”

I wasn't sure I believed that, but I also hadn't thought of it. I'd, no,
we'd,
been pretty horrible to Brooke, and she wasn't exactly the kind of person to sit back and take it. She seemed so genuine when we talked tonight, but maybe I should take some time to think about it.

I closed out the message. “You're right. I wasn't going to respond to her anyway.”

This seemed to relieve Natalie and to Julia and satisfy Susanna. I, on the other hand, was more confused than ever.

Frankly, I couldn't wait to get home the next day. It's not like I looked forward to that depressing house, but I needed time alone to think about Brooke and what was happening. Except when I got home, Dad said Mom had called and wanted me to come see the new apartment. My stomach dropped out from under me, and I wished everyone would just leave me alone.

“I'm not going without Josh,” I said.

Dad nodded. “I think he's got tickets to the game tonight.”

“Then we'll go tomorrow, or some other time. He has to see her, too.”

Dad said okay, he'd talk to him. Then, maybe noticing my mood, he said, “I know it's not easy, but we're all going through this. Even your mom.”

I wondered how he could talk about her like that when she'd supposedly done what she did to him and to us.

I went up to my room and reread Brooke's message. I wasn't so sure there was a hidden meaning there, but maybe. We'd never had a fight this big and I really didn't know how she was handling it. Maybe I should
do what Susanna said and just ignore it, at least for now.

I wanted to spend the weekend ignoring everything. Instead, I was getting sucked into having dinner with Mom and touring her new apartment.

“You can start thinking about how you want to decorate it,” she said over the phone, with what I could tell was forced enthusiasm.

Josh tried to weasel out of it with new excuses, but I wasn't letting him stick me with her alone. “If you bail tonight, I'm telling Dad you took his car last weekend when he was out with Adam,” I told him. I'd heard him drive away in it instead of his own car.

“You little tattletale,” he sneered.

“I don't care. I'm not going alone.”

“Brat,” he snapped, but I wouldn't back down. He seemed to love dropping bombshells of bad news, then bailing on it all. This time he'd have to face it, just like I had to.

Josh drove us to Mom's new place, a gated complex near the Brentwoods shopping area, which I figured meant the place was expensive. She buzzed us in at the gates and told us where to park. She stood on the sidewalk in front of the space, shading her eyes from the sun with one hand, while waving with the other.

Josh sighed. “Well, here we go.”

Mom had my door open before Josh could even shut off the engine.

“Your hair!” she said. “It looks so pretty! Goodness, I thought Josh had brought one of his girlfriends with him instead.” Mom's eyes started to well up with tears, and I had to look away.

She walked over to Josh, arms outstretched, and gave him a big hug. He made minimal effort to hug her back, his arms barely touching her waist and his hands in steely fists.

“Well, come on in! Let me show you around!”

We followed her, and I noticed how dressed up she was, in slim pants and mint-colored high heels that matched the top she wore. Josh and I had barely made the effort, both wearing baggy jeans and untucked shirts.

She used a key card to get through wrought iron gates that clanged shut behind us; she showed us the pool area complete with hot tub and barbeque area (“You can bring your friends over any time!” she told me); a workout facility (“You can bring the boys over any time!” she told Josh); and even a yoga studio. (“They have an instructor come twice a week,” she told us. “I should probably give it a shot, don't you think? De-stress a bit!”)

Her upbeat attitude was so fake. She was trying too hard, like she was desperate to make up for what she'd done. Josh
and I followed behind her, turning our eyes to whatever she pointed out, but showing as little interest as possible.

Inside it was a simple place: kitchen off to the right, which led into a living room, and the bedrooms on either side of it.

“Well, here it is!” She stretched her arms out like a game show hostess. It was decorated like a mini-version of our house, with the round end table that was her aunt's and the black picture frames she always used for vacation photos. “It's not much, but it's good for now. And this is your bedroom,” she said, looking at both of us. “I'm sorry I couldn't get a three bedroom, but it was a little out of my price range, for now anyway. But you can both decorate it however you want.”

I tried to imagine Josh's girlie posters with my stuffed animals in the same room. I also thought that, if she hadn't gone for such a swank building, she might have been able to afford a three bedroom.

“So!” Mom clapped her hands together. “Who's hungry?”

I looked at Mom, who still held that eager, forced-happy look on her face, and I started to feel bad for her. It would never be my home, but she was trying so hard—that had to count for something. I thought of Brooke, and how maybe she was trying, too. I wanted to be careful, but
I didn't really think she'd trick me, even after all that had happened. Watching Mom fall all over herself to make us comfortable, I thought that since everyone was working to make things right, maybe I should join in, too—and I'd start with Mom.

“Mom, your apartment is really nice,” I said. Right away she let out a breath like she'd been waiting for a nice word from me or Josh.

She touched my should and smiled. “Thanks, honey.”

As we walked out to dinner I realized that I should let go and accept things as they were offered to me—like Brooke's e-mail. It wasn't as if things between us could get any worse. I'd respond to her e-mail as soon as I got home. What harm could it do?

S
HOULD I HAVE BEEN SURPRISED? REALLY?
Maybe I shouldn't have been, but I was. She didn't write me back. I thought we'd had a real moment on Friday—ugh, I feel dumb even thinking that. Like, yeah, a real
moment
on Friday. In the bathroom, no less!

I walked into school on Monday feeling so stupid, like I had gone groveling back to Madeline, even though I know I didn't. She and her friends probably had a good laugh at how pathetic I was.
Now I had to go through another day and pretend like she didn't exist. I was sick of playing this game. So over it.

When I saw her at her locker I didn't slow down and try to wait until she left like I'd done before. Instead I marched right up to my locker, nudged her aside, and worked my combination.

I thought I heard her say, “Hey,” but I wasn't sure I and wasn't about to look at her since she hadn't been able to do me the same courtesy these last weeks. Besides, if she'd really wanted to say hello to me and I didn't respond, she would have spoken up, repeated herself, done something to get my attention. Instead she did nothing—as usual—and I slammed my door shut just as Susanna walked up. I felt like they were both staring at me—so ironic since they'd been experts at blatantly ignoring me—but I turned down the hall as if they didn't exist. As far as I was concerned, Madeline was dead to me.

“Next Monday, on Lil's birthday, her mom is bringing in pizza and cupcakes. You in?” Corrine asked at lunch.

“What?” I quickly tried to pretend I wasn't looking at Madeline's table. “Oh, yeah. I'm in.”

“Because she needs to know how much to bring,” Corrine said.

“Yeah,” I said again. “Sure.”

I refocused on eating my sandwich and not looking at Madeline.

“I thought it was so cute,” Lily was saying, while I wondered what Susanna was saying and if it was about me. “He
likes
you. And did you notice what he's
not
wearing today?”

I couldn't believe it—Madeline was staring at me again. Why ignore me for weeks, then talk to me in the bathroom, then ignore my message, only to stare at me all day in school?

Corrine nudged me. “Hey. Zombie. You okay? Lil asked you something.”

I looked at Corrine and Lily. “Huh? Sorry. What'd you say?”

“Christopher isn't wearing a tie today—of any kind. I think he may have finally ditched them, and all because of you. Do you like him? Because I think you'd make the cutest couple.”

“It's Chris,” I said. “And I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?!” Lily looked as if someone had just told her they were taking away all her cardigans. “I think he's sweet, and you do look cute together. I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“Not about Chris,” I said.

“Hey, what gives?” Corrine asked.

They both looked at me with concerned expressions, and I knew I should take comfort in that, but I worried about how they might react. I knew they actually cared about me and hated seeing me so miserable.

“Okay,” I began. “If I tell you something, will you swear not to give me any flak about it?”

“Of course!” Lily said without thought. That's what I loved about her: She was ready to support you first and ask questions later.

“What is it?” Corrine asked.

“I talked to Madeline on Friday night at the dance. We ran into each other in the bathroom. We only talked for like two minutes. But it was . . . nice.” I shrugged.

“Oh,” Lily said.

Corrine eyed me and said, “Well, what'd she say?”

“I don't know,” I said, wondering if I was going to regret bringing this up. “Just, you know. Said hello. And, um, talked about her hair. And Derek.” Was that all we'd talked about? After all this time, that was our conversation? Even though I'd thought about it all weekend, I realized I couldn't remember any significant moments of our conversation. Only slight looks that were up for interpretation.

“Did she apologize?” Corrine asked.

“No,” I said. “But she seemed sorry.”

“How did she
seem
sorry?” Corrine asked.

“Well,” I said, “she just seemed like, nervous. Like she was afraid to face me.”

“Because she felt bad,” Lily said. “Right?” Lily looked at me so hopefully, and I knew she wanted to find the right answers for me so that I could go back to being friends with Madeline and we could all live happily ever after.

But Corrine wanted straight answers. “She should be afraid of you. She should also be on her knees begging for your forgiveness.”

“Maybe she will,” Lily said. “I don't mean get on her knees, but maybe she's just working up the nerve. Or maybe she's looking for the right opportunity.”

“I sort of gave her that already,” I said. I figured if I'd told them this much, I might as well tell them everything. “I sent her an e-mail that night.”

“You
what
?” Corrine said. Even Lily looked pained by my confession.

“I was just all mixed up,” I said, feeling like a sucker. “I really thought she seemed, you know,
remorseful
or something. And she did message me before, so really the ball was in my court.”

“You mean that horrible, ‘I'll allow you to be my friend' thing?” Corrine said, and I cringed. “That hardly counts as reaching out to you.”

“I know,” I said. “Look, I feel like an idiot. She didn't even respond, so that's it. It's done. We're not friends and it looks like we're not ever going to be friends. Let's just drop it.” I took a bite of my sandwich and tried to chew, but it felt like sawdust in my mouth.

“Look,” Corrine said, taking a gentler tone. “I'm just looking out for you.”

“I know,” I said.

“She really burned you, and I don't want to see her do that again. Maybe it's for the best you didn't hear back from her. But we're here no matter you decide to do. Okay?”

“Yeah, we're here,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” I said. “You guys are the best.”

This is it
, I realized.
These are my friends. My only friends.
And that, I decided, wasn't just good enough—it was great.