LOBBY
Friday, October 9th
7:33 A.M.
Ehmagawd, had Dune heard their conversation?
Kristen’s cheeks ignited at the thought. Or was it the word you stirring in the burnt coffee-–scented air?
“Is everyone okay?” Willard asked, his neck meat trembling with concern. “Because, you know, that’s never happened before.”
“We’re cool,” Dempsey promised with a reassuring grin.
“Your parents aren’t going to sue, are they?”
“Not today,” Dempsey joked.
Relieved, Willard shuffled to his desk to greet the UPS deliveryman.
“Dune, what are you doing here?” Kristen asked, still inside the elevator. Dempsey’s confession had evaporated into a cloud that was now raining tension and guilt all over her.
“I thought we could double to school.” Dune pointed at the gold beach cruiser propped against the outside of the building.
The doors began to shut.
Dempsey stuck his crutch out and stopped them before they closed. He hobbled out.
“Fun game,” he mumbled as he passed. “Even though I lost.”
“No. Wait!” Kristen called, aware that Dune was standing beside her holding a fistful of forgiveness-leaves in the same way one might notice the hum of an air conditioner.
“Yeah?” Dempsey turned, grinning hopefully.
A tsunami of relief washed over her entire body.
And that’s when she knew for sure. Dempsey had turned into a serious crush. The kind of crush that kicks you out of the driver’s seat and grabs hold of the wheel. The kind that shuts off the GPS and takes you down a different road. The kind that reminds you that crushes don’t always follow the rules. And sometimes they don’t make sense. They make nonsense. And trying to force them or deny them is like trying to wear a maxi-dress when you’re four feet tall. Just because you want it to work doesn’t mean it’s going to. And sometimes, the less popular choice—the one nobody will approve of but you—is a perfect fit.
“What is it?” Dempsey pressed.
“Uh.” Kristen’s words dissolved in her mouth like a Listerine breath strip. “See ya later.”
Dempsey held his hopeful gaze, as if there might be more. “That it?”
“Yup,” Kristen chirped, stiffly chipper.
He smiled like his mouth had been glued shut, then turned to leave. Her heart gripped onto his good leg, and he dragged it into the chilly morning air.
“Ready?” Dune asked once Dempsey was gone.
“Yup,” she chirped again.
“Heyyyyyy,” called a familiar voice from the open window of a Lexus. The car pulled up in front of the building. “Wanna ride?”
“Layne?” Kristen squinted even though she had perfect vision. Was that really an orange sequin–covered bathing cap on her head? “What are you doing here?”
“I heard Massie ate bad sushi.” She sounded pleased. “I thought you might need a ride.”
So you’re not mad? Kristen asked with furrowed eyebrows as she and Dune walked toward the car.
“Unless you’re still too embarrassed to be seen with me,” she snickered, half joking but half not.
“I was never too—”
“S’okay.” Layne smiled, then leaned her shimmering head out the window even further and whispered, “Just talk to him for me and all will be forgiven.”
Kristen’s intestines dropped an inch. And then her LeSportsac vibrated with a text message.
Massie: Reminder. Tonight at my house. hope 2 c u there.
Kristen dropped the phone in her bag. She had never felt more wanted and less happy about it in her entire life. What was she supposed to do now?
A) Pretend she liked a surfer who hated soccer and called her friends OCDivas?
B) Pretend Layne still had a chance with Dempsey?
C) Pretend Massie still had a chance with Dempsey?
D) Pretend she and Dempsey had never had that conversation and avoid him like trans fat?
E) Pretend she didn’t feel the same way about him?
F) Pretend her own feelings didn’t matter so everyone else could be happy?
G) Pretend she’d ever have a friend in the greater New York area again if she didn’t choose A through E?
H) Pretend she also ate bad sushi, run upstairs, crawl under her covers, and stay there until she could figure out what to do next?
Without another word, Kristen gripped her stomach and chose H.