Blythe and Sean. I never thought about this combination before. That she had any interest in Sean Nessel other than as a friend. But of course she does. We’re all drawn to him. Blythe isn’t immune.
“Look, is there something going on with you and Rerun?” Blythe says. “Is that what this is about?”
This is Sean’s nickname for Raj: Rerun. It came from a television show in the 1970s: What’s Happening!! The main character is Raj; his friend is Rerun. Sean saw it on YouTube. Now all the soccer guys call him that.
“No, no. Raj is one of my best friends.”
“Best friends? Is that like a secret language for fuck-buddies? That’s what Suki thinks.”
I don’t know why this creeps me out, but it does. It really, really bothers me. I’m not anybody’s fuck-buddy for one reason alone: I don’t fuck. Referring to someone as my fuck-buddy implies that I have a sex life and that I’m choosing to have a sex life. I didn’t choose to have a sex life. I didn’t choose to have sex. It was forced on me.
“What did Sean tell you exactly?” I blurt out.
“He feels really bad about that night. He thinks you’re a nice girl. I’ve told you this.”
“Wow, I’m so glad I have his approval.” I feel my skin wet and clammy. I’m pushing the limits here, and I know this.
BLYTHE
“Whoa, defensive. Why don’t you relax with your attitude?”
The girls walk in. Donnie, Cate, Suki. They exhale aggression. They see Ali and snarl almost collectively. They hate her so much.
“Oh, I forgot about our little mascot,” Donnie says.
“Maybe there should be an initiation,” Cate says. But as soon as Cate says initiation, she backpedals. “I didn’t mean that kind of initiation. I meant in, like, a secret girls club initiation like when we were little. Like, you know, when you’re kids.”
“Ali doesn’t have to go through any initiations,” I say. “She’s passed all the tests she’s needed.”
20
ALI
The next day in school, Blythe and Sean are huddled in A-wing near the library. She’s got her hair hanging down over half her face, and she’s whispering in his ear. What is she telling him? My mind switches to paranoia. I’m convinced they’re whispering about me.
She doesn’t even notice me when I walk by—with her arms animated like a wild tornado—and in Sean Nessel’s company, why would she?
She doesn’t notice me. But he does. His reaction is plastered and hard, as if he’s not looking at anything at all. Like I’m a window.
My scrapbook with all my clips and heart collages and puppy love fantasies crash through my mind. I should have set it on fire.
* * *
After school Raj is waiting for me in the parking lot. He’s giving me a ride home. Sammi’s already in the front seat. I get in the back.
“What are you even doing here, Sammi?” I say, getting in the car. “I thought you hated me.”
“Actually, I’m here because I miss you and I think you’re slightly misdirected and need emotional help.”
“Oh, is that all?” I say. “At least we’re on the same page.”
“You’ve been a shitty best friend, Ali.”
Raj looks at me in the rearview mirror. He set me up for this confrontation.
“I know. I’m sorry.” And I do love her. But my apology comes off as empty and defensive because I can’t feel. I’m numb.
We’re quiet for a few minutes, the three of us. So I just blurt it out: “Blythe thinks me and Raj are fuck-buddies.” I don’t know why I tell them this. Now it’s out there and I can’t take it back.
“Why are you letting Blythe determine anything about us at all?” Raj says.
“When did you start hating on Blythe?”
“When she started hunting you down. I don’t like it. It seems fake. She’s a fake.”
Sammi makes weird grunting noises from the front seat. Her way of agreeing.
“What’s the difference?” I say. Drifting off. Isn’t everyone fake?
“Because I feel protective of you, all right?” Raj says.
My face beams. I can feel my cheeks heating up. I’m blushing. I didn’t expect him to say that. Usually Sammi’s the protective one. The one to be scared of. Not Raj.
“What is this, some kind of knight-on-a-white-horse situation and I’m just unaware of it?” Sammi says.
“Relax, Sammi,” he says. “I’m not invading your territory.”
I know I’m not supposed to want Raj to feel protective of me. I know that I can take care of myself. I know that my father has been teaching me that since, well, since my mom left. I also know that Raj couldn’t save me from a burning building, most likely, or save anything, for that matter, but I like it. I like that he said it.
* * *
Blythe texts me late. She’s like a mermaid. Just showing up to shore when no one expects her.
Drive around with me tonight?
“Who is that from?” my dad says, trying to look at my phone. I cover it with my hand. “Sammi?”
“Not Sammi.”
“I haven’t seen Sammi around in a while.”
“I was just with her today, Dad.”
“So nothing is going on with her?”
“No, everything’s fine.” Which wasn’t entirely true. But it was fine enough.
“Ali— It’s okay if you got into a fight. That happens with friends,” he says. “I had a close friend once. This guy Arthur.”
I laugh. “Dad. Stop.”
“Really—his name was Arthur.”
“His name was not Arthur.”
“We called him Arty. Honest to God.”
Blythe texts me again.
Answer, bitch. I’m coming to your house in 5 and flicking on my brights twice. Bat signal.
I get up from the table. The chair squeaks on the floor. “I finished all my homework. Blythe is going to pick me up in five minutes. You can tell me about Arty another time.”
“It’s eight o’clock at night.”
“I’ll be back in, like, forty-five minutes.”
I walk into the front hall and slip on my Converse. I don’t even get permission. He
