7 Clues to Winning You (26 page)

We’d been picking at our near-empty plates for half an hour, and the waitress was getting cranky. Luke paid the check, a gesture that would cheerfully meet with Ms. Eulalie’s and Ms. Franny’s approval. Of course, they’d be horrified that Luke hadn’t picked me up for the date. He’d offered
to, but it made no sense for him to schlep all the way out to Meriton and back to Ash Grove twice in one night. I insisted we just meet at the restaurant. Applebee’s wasn’t exactly the country club, but after you’ve spent a day in a Dumpster with someone, everything looks five star.

“Are you ready to go?” Luke asked.

No,
I thought.

“Sure,” I said. We laid our napkins on the table and stood up in perfect synchrony. When we realized it, we laughed simultaneously. Crazy.

We left the restaurant, and Luke walked me to my car. A warm, damp breeze tumbled around us. The high sounds of the peepers and other spring frogs rang out in the distance. I deeply inhaled the fresh night air. “Ahhh,” I sighed. “I’m so glad March is finally over.”

We got to my car and leaned against it, side by side. Luke stared up at the stars. “So … any chance for another Dumpster date tomorrow?” he asked.

“Totally,” I answered. I’d go anywhere with him. “Wait! No!” I let my head thud back against the roof of my car. “I promised Tara and my other girlfriends that we’d hit the mall tomorrow afternoon. I can’t skip out on them again after last week, even though I’d much rather pick garbage with you.” It surprised me to say that. I adored my friends. Tara and I had been inseparable my whole life. Yet what I’d said was true.

Luke nudged me with his shoulder and smiled. “It’s cool,” he said. “We’ll get together again. Soon.”

I rolled sideways to face him. He turned to me. The
polarity that had held us apart was gone. Now, the only force between us was one that pulled us together.

A lock of hair blew across my face, and Luke tucked it behind my ear. His hand paused as his thumb caressed my jaw. He didn’t say a word.

He just drew my face to his and softly kissed me.

THE REAL REASON THE GIRLS AND I WERE HANGING out Sunday afternoon was so Tara and I could compare guy stories. I wanted to hear every detail of what happened with James after the basketball game, and I couldn’t wait to tell her all about my date with Luke.

It was impossible to get anywhere with our stories because Veronica and Cerise were talking non-stop about their summer plans. Melissa could only stay an hour, and Veronica and Cerise had homework to do, so they bailed, leaving Tara and me alone at last. We made the rounds of the mall stores as we recounted our dates.

“So wait,” I said as Tara and I sifted through the summer dresses in Forever 21. “James didn’t try anything else? Not even over the shirt or anything?”

Tara shrugged one shoulder. “He grabbed my ass while we were making out. But yeah, other than that he was pretty tame. He didn’t even take off his tie. What about this one?” She held up a tribal print spaghetti strap dress.

I crinkled up my nose. “Nah. This?” An emerald halter dress. Tara shook her head. I slipped the hanger back on the rack. “Maybe he’s gay … ?”

Tara smirked. “No, he’s definitely not gay.” She chuckled to herself. “That much I could feel … I mean, tell.”

I didn’t press for intimate details.

I checked in the mirror beside us to see which of two colors looked best against my skin. “Okay,” I said, “so James is the captain of an athletic team, he’s in the top two percent of the class, he likes wearing ties, and he’s a gentleman. Don’t take this the wrong way, T, but he’s like the total opposite of you.”

“I know!” She beamed at me like a kid at Disney World. “Isn’t it perfect? Opposites attract!” She was giddy. Tara—the girl who once ran into Jay-Z at the airport and didn’t even break a sweat—Tara was giddy over James Forsberg.

“That really only applies to magnets. You know that, right? It’s not a philosophical compass for your life.”

Tara grabbed an animal print crop top from the next rack over, then unbuttoned her tie waist top and stripped down to her bra right there in the store. “But we’d make a smokin’ hot couple. God, I hope he asks me to prom.” She pulled the crop top over her head and shimmied into it. “When’s Ash Grove’s prom?”

I shrugged. “No idea. End of April? Beginning of May? A few people are talking about it.” I checked the price of a baby doll dress.

Tara pulled the sleeves down off the shoulder and posed for me. “What do you think? Does it look slutty?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

Tara pouted. “Then forget it.” She peeled it off and tossed it onto the rack. She slipped into her tie waist top and started doing up the buttons. I hung up the crop top for her.

“So what about you and Luke?” she said. “Are you opposites? I bet you don’t exactly come from the same tax bracket. Is he smart? Nerdy? What? Ooh, you should try this on. Take off your shirt.”

I laughed and snatched the peasant top from her. “I’ll use the dressing room, thank you. Hold my purse.” I also grabbed two sizes of a one-shoulder sundress I liked. I didn’t trust the sizes on the tags.

Tara followed me to the dressing room area and plopped down on the upholstered bench outside the dressing room doors. I went into an empty room and started to change.

“I don’t even know what Luke looks like. Is he hot?” Tara shouted to me.

I blushed, even though there was no one but my reflection to see me. “I guess so,” I said. Of course he was hot, but you don’t go shouting that out in the middle of a clothing store.

“Do you have a picture of him? I want to see.”

I had only one picture of Luke, and it was on my iPhone. “Check the pictures on my phone,” I said. “There’s one of him in … um … the big green … bin.”

“You mean the Dumpster?” Tara called louder than necessary.

I closed my eyes and took a cleansing breath. “Just find it,” I said weakly.

Tara was quiet for a minute, so I figured she was zooming in on Luke’s face to gauge his hotness level. I heard her call, “Uh, Blythe, what’s this picture?”

“I told you!” I said in a loud whisper through the crack of the door. “It was for charity!”

“No, not that one,” she said. “I mean the one with the Blue Stallion costume.”

Oh, God. I never deleted the extra shots!

“It’s nothing!” I yelled. I was down to only my panties because the sundress had a bra built in. I grabbed it and held it over my chest as I bolted out of the dressing room. “It’s garbage. Here, let me delete it!” I tried to grab my phone, but Tara held it out of my reach.

“When did you take this?” she asked, relishing the sight of me dancing around her in my underwear as she kept the phone away from me. I noticed that everyone in the store could see me nearly naked, so I raced back into the dressing room. I didn’t see any other option than to spill to Tara about the underground Senior Scramble.

I poked my head out and whispered, “It’s for the Ash Grove scavenger hunt. It’s back on, but it’s a total secret, so you can’t tell anyone about it, okay? Everybody could get in huge trouble. Like suspended.” I pulled my head back inside and scrambled to strap on my bra. The hooks wouldn’t catch.

“This picture was for some scavenger hunt at Ash Grove?”

“Yeah.”

Tara gasped. “How could you do that to your own school? Wait, when did you take this?”

“Friday night,” I said. “While you were talking to James after the game.”

Tara was silent.

I said, “We had to get a picture of the Meriton Blue Stallion in a compromising position.” My bra finally hooked. I
grabbed my yoga pants and hopped around on one foot as I tried to pull them on. “I sneaked into the guys’ locker room and took it.”

“Hold up,” Tara said. “Is that why you were pushing me so hard to jump James when he came out of the locker room?” Her voice was suddenly somber. “So you could sneak in to get this picture?”

I stuck my head out the door. “No. I mean, sort of. Maybe yes, but it was like a two-birds, one-stone kind of deal.” She was still staring at the picture on my phone. A salesclerk gave me the evil eye, so I ducked back inside and talked through the crack in the door. “I wanted the picture; you wanted James. It all worked out, right?”

Tara sat motionless. “It could just as easily have gone the other way,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I squirmed as I tried to put my top on, but it got all twisted. I peeled it off again.

“It totally could have backfired, Blythe,” she cried. “What if James thought I was a freak? What if he figured I must be a desperate loser? You didn’t know for sure how he’d react. But you made me do it anyway. I can’t believe you totally used me like that. For a stupid picture!”

At last, I wriggled into my top. I slid my feet into my sandals, grabbed the sundresses and peasant top, and flew out of the dressing room. Tara tossed my phone onto the bench cushion beside her and crossed her arms, staring straight ahead.

“T, I didn’t use you!” I shoved the garments into the store clerk’s arms and snatched up my phone. I frantically scrolled
to the extra stallion pictures and deleted them, as if that somehow would delete Tara’s memory.

She wheeled around to me. “Answer me this: could you have gotten this picture without having me distract James?”

It had been the only scenario I could come up with. Or at least, it was the first one. I hadn’t really thought any further than that. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“And would you have suggested I throw myself at James if you
didn’t
have to get this picture?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Tara glared at me. “You wouldn’t have, and you know it. So basically, you were using me.” She stood up and snugged the knot of her tie waist top. “All you were thinking about was your own agenda. Which is all you ever think—and talk—about lately.” Her hand circled in the air. “It’s all about Blythe and her drama.”

“That’s not tr—”

“The irony is”—she swept up her purse and hooked it over her arm—“that I totally would’ve helped you if you’d just asked.”

I tried to explain. “We aren’t supposed to tell anyone about the scavenger hunt so the administration doesn’t find out.”

Tara nodded slowly. “I see. In other words, you didn’t trust me. Damn, Blythe.” She started to walk away from me. After three steps, she turned and said, “Who the hell are you now?” She didn’t wait for my answer. She was gone.

I spent the next hour nursing a caramel macchiato in the food court. I was so ashamed about the way I’d treated Tara
that I didn’t even want to do the Senior Scramble anymore. Except that I’d promised Luke that my hands would be as bloody as anyone’s. I couldn’t quit. Besides, if I was losing friends at Meriton, then I’d better secure some at Ash Grove. Finishing—or better yet, winning—the hunt would do that, I hoped. Quitting the hunt would do the opposite. How could I go on, though, when it had turned me into such a jerk? Where did my loyalties lie: Meriton or Ash Grove?

My coffee had gone cold, so I dumped it and headed out of the mall. I didn’t know what to do. I needed some kind of sign that I either should quit the Senior Scramble and beg Tara to forgive me or continue on with the scavenger hunt, like I’d promised Luke (and everyone else at Ash Grove, even if they didn’t realize it).

I trudged to my car and headed for home. Halfway there, I got my sign. Literally. I was sitting at a stoplight when I noticed one of those A-frame placards with changeable letters tucked off to the side of a convenience store. It read:

I mean, really … wieners? How could that not be a sign? I instantly knew how to change the lettering, too. Part of it, anyway. I swerved into the parking lot and pulled over to the sign so that I was shielding it as much as possible. I took a
few minutes to figure out the exact wording on a notepad. I checked around for witnesses, snagged my phone, and got out. I took a “before picture,” and after a few minutes of frantic letter-swapping, the sign read:

I snapped the picture, and my choice was made. I was a junior at Ash Grove High School and a contestant in the Senior Scramble. I jumped in my car and took off. I didn’t even change the sign back. I was a jerk and a delinquent and a bad girl, so I figured, why bother?

When I got home, I went right upstairs and logged on to the Revolting Phoenix. I uploaded my picture, imagining how much the seniors would laugh at my brilliant re-lettering. Imagine my shock when this message popped up:

What? How was that possible? My entry was perfect.

Wasn’t it?

I reread the clue and examined my before and after
pictures of the sign. I had done everything they’d asked. The
A-OK
was a stretch in terms of language, but the clue didn’t say anything about proper spelling or syntax. What was the deal?

I called Luke on my cell. There was no answer. I left him a voice mail message saying to call me PRONTO. I didn’t want to say anything about the Senior Scramble since I had no idea who might have access to his phone. I checked the time; it was 6:08. He probably was finishing up his deliveries to the soup kitchen and food bank. I expected a call any minute.

I didn’t hear from Luke for the rest of the night, and I didn’t get approval of my entry, either. I checked constantly, but there was no change by the time I crashed at eleven thirty. I was going to be short on beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Despite my lack of sleep, the next morning I styled my hair, did my makeup, and put on skinny jeans, an asymmetrical purple top, and strappy sandals. I was fluffed and buffed and filled with that particular confidence of knowing you look fantastic.