“I don’t know if I believe you.”
“I know I really screwed up this weekend, because I’m stupid.” She rested her chin in her hand, covering a yellowing bruise. Her face looked pale and worn. “But he crossed the line. I’m done.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“You’re the only person who gives a shit. The only one I trust.” Her eyes were large and red rimmed. “Please tell me it’s not too late. Tell me there is
I stared back at her for a long time, my lips glued together. She had offered her friendship to me. No questions asked. And I’d lied to her. I wanted to tell her the truth. To start over—reintroduce myself.
But I couldn’t form the words. She trusted me. Nobody had ever said that to me before. Not even my mom. “No more stealing?” I asked finally.
She let out a shaky breath. “No more. I want to focus on music. We rock together, Drea. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Me neither.” I tried to smile, but I didn’t know if it translated to my lips. “Do you know if Scott got arrested?”
“Roger told me it was the old bag upstairs who called the cops, and she calls them, like, nine times a month for stupid shit. Like, one time she thought a stray-cat fight was a kid screaming for help. Anyway, Scott told them he tripped and smacked his nose on the coffee table playing Wii. And they apparently bought it. But who knows.”
“Promise me you won’t see him again?”
Naomi smiled and looped my pinkie with hers. “I won’t even mention his name.”
I wanted to believe her, but an ache in my stomach warned me against it. Still, I didn’t want to lose the first friend I’d made in years or our music. “We decided on M3 for the band. I think I forgot to tell you.”
“I like it—a lot, actually. Where’s Justin?”’
I dug my pen into my notebook, scratching a tiny star in the corner. “He didn’t show up today. I think he hates me.”
“I don’t think that’s it, babe. People don’t run from the cops unless they have something to hide. I told you he seemed a little
“He told us why.” My chest felt tight again. I didn’t want Justin to be one of the bad guys, but I couldn’t get his contorted features out of my head.
“Do you know where he lives? Maybe we can drop by after school,” she said.
I shook my head. “I need to find him, Naomi. I need to know.…”
She put her hand over mine. “It’ll be okay. He can’t skip school forever. You’ll get another chance.”
That wasn’t good enough for me. I went to the bathroom before class and left my mom a voice mail, telling her I was going out with Naomi and I’d be home late.
I had an appointment with Jackie during PE. I wished I had the ability to hide my emotions.
“You look troubled today, Drea. Rough weekend?”
I shrugged, trying to stop my knee from jiggling.
“SweeTart?”
I nodded, and she tossed a couple of packs to me.
“How do you know if someone is telling the truth?” I asked, letting the candy sizzle on my tongue.
Jackie’s dark eyes drifted to the ceiling. “That’s a tough question.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’d say the best proof is when their actions back up their words.”
“What if they tell you they aren’t going to do something, and it seems like they really mean it, but your stomach tells you they don’t?”
“I think you’re talking about instinct. Has this person lied before or gone back on a promise?”
“Not exactly. You know how people smile even when they aren’t happy? Like salesclerks?”
Jackie chuckled. “Yes, it’s kind of a silly idea, isn’t it? Smile wide and maybe people will buy more.”
“It annoys me. They don’t even know me, so how could they possibly care how my day was?”
“I’m with you there. We’ll ask if we want something, right?”
I nodded.
“Problem is, people don’t always say what they want,” she said. “Maybe they’re too afraid to ask. Or sometimes they simply don’t know. If you had to guess, what would you say your friend wants?”
“Love. She wants someone to care about her.” I sucked in my breath. Stupid me. She’d be able to figure out who I was talking about.
“Don’t worry, Drea. Everything you tell me is confidential unless you tell me this person poses a danger to herself or others.”
Well, she had an ex who’d harmed her, but I’d learned early on that being a tattletale wasn’t cool. Dustin Jenkins threw rocks at me for a week after I’d told the teacher he’d peed his pants. Not to mention numerous other
