Page 6

Or, she could sleep in till three and wake up like a person that liked to break things. It was a tough call. There was a reason all our bowls were plastic.

I pushed a hand through my hair—it’d gotten all wavy in the night with me sleeping on it wet—and tried not to think of the mounting evidence of Lacey’s betrayal. Clearly, she’d gone to the party. Clearly, she’d had such a good time she couldn’t be bothered to inform me. And clearly, she and Liam were dating now, something that I’d find out fifteen lockers away from me on Monday. I glowered at my phone—just as it lit up.

You have 3 messages.

“About time,” I muttered, and swiped in. Sarah’s triple-chin greeted me, as did her texts:

OMG

Come to breakfast with me!!!! Get to the diner. NOW.

NOTHING HAS EVER BEEN THIS IMPORTANT

…followed by a string of gesticulating emojis that I got three into before I gave up on even attempting to translate them.

Staring down at my phone I wasn’t sure how to feel. If it was something Sarah could tell me over text, she would, the girl had calluses on her thumbs from texting so hard. So what couldn’t she?

Was Lacey really going out with Liam? Like after one night?

I texted back:

OK

I just had to figure out how to get there.

I sauntered back into my bedroom—if I acted like anything interesting was going on, Allie would want to know what-where-why and if I was going to get out and back safely, I needed her on my side. I brushed my teeth and pulled on clothes and walked back past my mom’s room through the kitchen to sagely open the fridge and cabinets like I was taking stock, then I walked back into the living room and yawned like life was boring.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m gonna go get more cereal before mom gets up.”

Allie jumped up. “Can I come?”

“Nah—it’ll just be a fast trip—superfast—stay in your jammies.” I waved her down and slowly walked toward the door.

“But—”

“And get your homework out or else,” I threatened. Allie made a series of faces at me, culminating in sticking her tongue out, until I quietly closed the front door.

I could only borrow the car for family-things. Getting to work, going grocery shopping. Nothing personal, not school, and never dates, not that I had any. I had some cash left over from last paycheck—enough to pay for my half of breakfast and cruise by the store to get a box of cereal for cover’s sake. Hopefully I’d get back before my mom got up, or shortly thereafter. If I didn’t, well—whatever Sarah had to tell me had better’ve been worth it.

I pulled the Buick into the diner’s parking lot and did a little dance outside it where I tried to air the smoke-smell off. Thenext door store’s sign didn’t advertise the home goods you could see in the window—instead all the letters had been arranged to sayGo Bison Baseball!

Go where?I wondered, and opened the diner’s door.

Sarah was there, she had the booth in the back, a wall behind her and a view of the whole busy restaurant. The second she saw me she started flagging me down.

Seeing her, my heart did the quick thump-thump it always did. Apart from whatever likely tragic news she was going to tell me—there was the fact she wanted to tellme, personally, and not anyone else.

Her naturally blonde hair fell down and swept back in a perfect wave and her make-up was just barely there, although I knew she mostly woke up looking perfect from multiple slumber parties. She was tall and lean and smart and sarcastic and athletic and just kind enough—Sarah was everything that was great about the Midwest in a way that shorter, chunkier, brunette me wasn’t. Lacey and I had always gravitated toward her, like she was a sun. How could we not?

I walked over to her, grinning, and sat down, flipping my coffee mug over. Sarah flipped it back, and jerked her chin at the waitress trailing me—I looked up and thought I recognized her. Hadn’t she been my teacher’s aide in seventh grade English? That was the problem with this town—everyone always knew everyone else. “She’ll have what I’m having and you can bring the coffee then,” Sarah said, and the waitress broke away before I was sure.

“This’d better be good,” I said, betraying my nervousness that it might not be.

“I know.” She got that wolfish grin she sometimes got at other people’s expense, and I swallowed. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“You have to guess Jessie, or it’s not any fun?—”