Top Ten Uses for an Unworn Prom Dress Part 14

"Drinking on the beach. A certain digital photo?"

Whoa. How on earth did she get a copy of that?

"Oh, yeah?" I said, running a hand through my hair in what I hoped was a casual way. When all I could think was, no team, no starting position. No scholars.h.i.+p, no college.

"Yeah," she answered with a smug smile.

c.r.a.p. I couldn't risk her showing that photo to Luther. I had no choice but to work with her. "Look, Kylie," I said, and swallowed with my very dry mouth. "There's nothing between Rascal and me. I admit I had the mother of all crushes on him, but real life has a way of taking care of that sometimes."

Her face wrinkled like she smelled something foul. "You mean, you ..."

Her voice trailed off, making me think that when she said she knew "everything," she meant the lawn but not the couch?

I decided to hold my cards closer to my chest. I had to give her enough to believe I was nonthreatening without admitting to anything...directly. "You don't have to worry about me. Okay?" I zeroed in on her squinty eyes. "And I don't have to worry about you showing that picture to Luther, right?"

She gave me something I took for a nod, then turned away.

I was dying to ask where the h.e.l.l she'd gotten the picture, anyway, but I didn't want to rock the boat. Apparently she had good sources. And me in a tight spot.

I waited around at Alison's locker after the last bell, but when she didn't show, I had to hightail it to the locker room.

The team was doing warm-up laps when I shuffled into the gym. Zoe slowed to let me fall into step with her, but I waved her on, saying I was tired.

Nothing personal, I just didn't feel like talking to anyone. Except maybe Alison. Could she possibly have stabbed me in the back? It was almost as if she'd set me up to take that photo, like someone had paid her to do it or something. Which was crazy. She had all the money she could ever want.

A few laps later, Zoe appeared beside me. "Okay, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"Huh?"

Sweat beaded her brow. "You seem upset. I'm upset. And don't they say misery loves company?"

A smile tugged at my mouth. Actually, it was nice that someone seemed to care. Still, I couldn't reveal the whole truth about my blue mood. I didn't even know the whole truth.

"It's Alison," I said, giving up what I felt I could. "She's, uh, been acting weird since I started spending time with her brother."

"That sucks," she said, huffing. "But you can'tentirely blame her."

Yeah, except the beach picture happened way before Jared and I started hanging together. Back when I was swapping kisses with Canadian Guy and still moping over Rascal.

We rounded a corner of the gym and she added, "Still, it seems you two should be able to work it out. Get it out in the open, set some guidelines or something. Better than Matt and me, who are now done for good." She turned and looked at me. "He gave me the let's-be-friends line last night."

Ouch! "Oh, Zoe."

"I saw it coming, I really did." She inhaled through her nose. Bravely, I thought. "Still, to break up. And so close to the homecoming dance."

"Did you buy a dress already?"

"I was still saving."

"Well, that's good."

"I guess."

But getting dumped-dress or no dress-was definitely the pits.

Run the silky pink fabric up the school flagpole in solidarity with all girls who'ev been cruelly ditched, dodged, and dumped

Zoe and I hung together for the rest of practice, doing drills, pa.s.sing the ball, letting out long sighs. Later, we walked out together.

Leaning against an SUV in the teachers' parking lot was Jared. To say he was the last person I expected to see would be an exaggeration. That would have been my dad-or maybe Caffeine, if I could even remember what she looked like.

A smile tugging one side of his mouth, he crooked a finger at me.

"See you later," Zoe singsonged, and turned away.

I moved toward Jared, my pulse oddly elevated.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey yourself."

I understood the unspoken offer of a ride and figured it was better than walking. We silently climbed into his mom's car. After he started the engine, he turned to me.

"Your note. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, with my windows and everything. What's up?"

I crossed one leg and then the other. I couldn't get comfortable. What had felt unbearable in the darkness had lessened during the course of this hectic and very confusing day. Still, I had to tell him. "Friends with benefits," I blurted out. "That's what people are calling us. I mean, not just as a joke. For real."

A full smile captured his face. But when he glanced back my way, his gaze was appropriately stony. "Yeah. I'll talk to Keith and Mitch and those guys."

He put the car in gear and backed out of the spot in silence, then pulled onto the main road.

"You know, Jared, Mitch has been calling me."

"What?"

"Yeah. Wanting to get together. Probably wanting ... well, I don't have to spell it out, do I?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I'll handle him."

"And Harrison."

He came to a full stop at a yield sign, and suddenly his eyes were all over my face. "Him, too? c.r.a.p, this has really gotten crazy. Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

"Not like you did with Rascal-okay?"

He exhaled, then nodded.

"You need to explain how a stupid joke got out of hand. And how you and I aren't even really friends anyway."

Jared leaned over and adjusted the AC. His hand came within inches of my knee, but just like the guy himself, it kept a straight course.

"Today, in the office. Thanks for keeping your mouth shut about Rascal."

I felt myself nodding, but the real Nicolette seemed to be lost somewhere inside my head, hiding among the twisted thoughts. I knew that somehow getting things right with Jared was of major importance, and yet I couldn't get past his mercy date offer. I didn't want to be Alison's-friend-that-he-should-be-nice-to. Or poor-Nic-with-the-virgin-prom-dress. I realized I wanted to be important to him because I was me. And I wasn't sure what to make of that.

He made a lane change. "And in the car the other day ... you got mad and everything. I was stupid. Can we forget about that?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, then took a leap to safer ground. "As long as you can forget about this stupid feud with Rascal. I mean, you're not going to jump him or break his windows or anything-right?"

He flipped down his visor to block the late-afternoon sun. "Yeah, this thing's gotten crazy. If it goes any further, one of us will get expelled or arrested. I don't want it to be me.

"And the thing is," he went on, glancing my way, "I already played my next card. Kylie grabbed me and fired questions about Rascal and what really happened on Sunday. So I told her. It seemed like payback, even if it was pretty weak."

Of course-it was him. I'd told her to ask him what had happened. I laced my fingers in my lap. "Did you tell her what went on after Rascal came inside my house?"

"How could I? I don't know ... I don't want to know."

"But you listened in on my conversation with Alison."

"Did I?" A frown and a smile had a collision on his face, the smile barely winning out. "Look, I'm not about making things harder for you. I just want you to be done with Rascal once and for all." He steered the SUV to the curb in front of my house and stopped, turning to look at me. "You are done with him, aren't you, Nic?"

"Totally."

"Okay, then."

He gazed my way, and I swear, I saw a sparkle. And it made something fizzy happen inside me.

"Okay." I knew I should grab the door handle. That we were done. Friends again. But I couldn't get myself to go.

I let the air between us hang heavy-silent-hoping my trick of saying nothing would prompt him to say something. Or do something ...

His fingers made a drumming noise on the steering wheel. I got the message, loud and clear.

Hiding any signs of disappointment, I grabbed the door handle. "Thanks for the ride, Jared."

"That's what friends are for."

Mom stood up from a dining room chair when she saw me. A hand rigidly attached to her hip. I gave halfhearted thought to what incredibly delicious meal she was making for her one-in-a-million daughter tonight, and was vaguely disappointed when my deep inhale only came up with the piney aroma of furniture polish.

"What's for dinner?" I said, falling into a chair.

She jerked a neon sheet of paper in the air. The same color as the flyers Jared, Alison, and I had made.

I would have smiled had her mouth not been an angry red slash. "A prospective client brought this into the office today, Nicolette. Asking for 'Thurman Oaks' top-selling realtor.'"

Uh-oh. So that wasn't such a brilliant idea?

"Since that t.i.tle happens to belong to a man from another firm on the other side of town, Nicolette, the receptionist called my boss over."

I swallowed hard, the enormity of my "good deed" settling over me.

"Who nearly popped blood vessels. Then called me over for an explanation. Which, of course, I couldn't give. Until I remembered the stack of hot pink papers on the gra.s.s last weekend. That you said had something to do with your homework?"

I cringed.

"Was it your a.s.signment to commit false advertising? Or to see if you could get your mother fired?"

Shock waves formed before my eyes. "You-you got fired?"

"Not yet. But I'm on suspension, pending an investigation."

I pulled my knees up to my chin, wanting to hide inside myself. But even a thick turtle sh.e.l.l wouldn't have been good enough to hide me from my own stupidity. I'd wanted to help Mom so badly that I hadn't stopped to connect the dots ... that, oh yeah, someone probably was the area's top realtor.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," I said miserably. "A good surprise. A helpful one. Like paying the mortgage, you know?"

(Okay, I admit the mention of the mortgage was to try to douse her flames.) "That's what's so shocking about this," Mom said, her face all blotchy. "You were so thoughtful about the mortgage. And yet so thoughtless about this. Explain that to me, will you?"

Thanks, but I'd prefer Door #2, which I was sure was "crawl into a hole and die." I knew this was a line-in-the-sand moment, where I either barfed out the whole truth ... or I could no longer live with myself.

"Mom," I began, looking at her through squinted eyes. "About the mortgage ..."

Minutes later, I sat perched on the kitchen stool with the telephone pressed against my ear, listening to Mom go off on Dad. She was on the cordless in the living room, and Dad was in Ventura, although it seemed to me my mother's screeches could have been heard quite clearly without instrumentation in any part of Southern California.

"How dare you conspire behind my back!" she bellowed.

"Lynn," my dad said, trying to be heard from his end. "I didn't give her the money because I was teaming up against you. I gave it to her because she was right when she said I'd s.h.i.+rked my responsibility with the two of you. I should have paid you alimony longer, helped out until you were solidly on your feet."

"So now you're calling me a failure!" my mom wailed.

Oh, G.o.d. Just kill me now.

After a time, Mom told Dad she'd be paying him back. Every red cent. Then she hung up and stormed toward the back of the house.

I sat on the stool, my limbs quaking, just Dad and me on the line.