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Thirty-One

My new—but some could arguenotimproved—extracurricular schedule is a lot to handle all at once: a weekly seven-in-the-morning Jane Austen Appreciation Club meeting, a lunchtime fundraiser for the prom planning committee, and a donation drive for the environmental club, which I joined even though it wasn’t in jeopardy of being shut down because I know how much it means to Corrine. I even initiated a new program for basketball season where the cheerleaders take donations before the game in exchange for doing whatever dance the donor requests.

To no one’s surprise, I am the only other member of the Jane Austen Appreciation Club because people who like Jane Austen are busy reading Jane Austen and also have Intense opinions about her work that they do not need confirmed by others. This I know all from things Corrine has said in the past. I have not yet read one of Austen’s books, but I plan to now that I am automatically the vice president of the club. It was the most urgent on the list of Chopping Block Clubs.

Here we are, sitting in Mademoiselle Desombre’s empty French classroom, these uncomfortable desk chairs beneath our thighs, silent. To her credit, Corrine has an Austen book in front of her but I can tell she’s not reading it. That’s not even what this club is about. I read the information in this huge binder of clubs for the year. We’re supposed todiscussthe books. Again, I haven’t read any, so maybe she just knows that we can’t talk about them.

I clear my throat. “Corrine?”

“What?” Her tone is clipped, but I note something hopeful in it.

“Can we talk?”

“Would you like to discuss Jane Austen?”

“No?”

“Then no.”

I think.What will make Corrine talk?“What about Darcy? Mr. Darcy?”

She puts her book down and raises an eyebrow at me. “What about him? How do you know who he is?”

“I have Netflix.” I figured it was better than coming in totally unprepared, right? Not like I could really sleep knowing I’d be seeing her in the morning anyway. Seemed like a better use of time than staring at the ceiling imagining every scenario in which Corrine could maim me.

Despite the eye roll, she says, “Continue.”

“For all intents and purposes, he was kind of a real asshole for a while, but it wasn’t really his intention.”

“Are you trying to Darcy your way out of the fact that you lied to me and did things behind my back?”

“No.I’m just saying that he wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but he was. And he was sorry for it, and he tried to make up for it.”

“Is that why you joined all of my clubs?” She turns to face me. We’re about six desks away from each other because she took the first seat when you walk into the room and I had taken a back seat, worried about getting caught alone in a classroom before school started. I’m new to the whole club thing. “To make up for what you did?”

“No, I joined your clubs because you were worried about them being shut down, and I know how much you like them and you want them for your college apps.” I bite my lip. “And I guess also because I wanted to show you I was sorry.”

“Start with the truth next time.”

“If everything I said was the truth, how am I supposed to prioritize one truth over the other?”

“I don’t know,” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t know, Saine.”

I move to the desk next to her, cautiously. “How about we talk?”

“We are talking.”

I search her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend.”

“We need to get a lot out in the open, then.”

“You can start.” I continue when she glares at me, “I meant you could ask me questions, not that you’ve been keeping things from me.”

She flattens her hair, then flips it over her shoulder. “I would like to know why you didn’t just tell me about your feelings for Holden.”

I take a deep breath. “It wasn’t until the Millersville party that I realized I had them as badly as I did. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or upset you, so I kept anything I might have been feeling to myself. It was hard to even admit it to myself.”

“Yeah, you hid it from me, lied to me, and now my feelings are more than hurt, they’re, like,deadbecause you could have just told me. If I’m your best friend, how am I not worthy of the truth? Of knowing what’s going on with you?”