If you could call kissing cheating, which, technically, I’m starting to be pretty sure it is. Sort of.
But before I could say anything, Sidney went on, “I only cruised by the Gulp last night because Dave was at his grandma’s, and I figured you’d be hanging with Seth in his truck, and I wanted to see if you guys’d be into grabbing something from the DQ. I didn’t think I’d find youin a liplock with some other guy.”
I couldn’t help it. I grabbed a pillow and smushed it over my face. That was how great my shame was.
Although I’m not sure shame is the right word for it. Because Sidney’s use of the wordliplock brought the memory flooding back of how Tommy’s lips had felt on mine. I could feel myself starting to blush. Not because I was embarrassed that she’d caught us, but because of how much I’d really, really liked it.
“I’m sorry,” I wailed into the pillow. “I don’t know what came over me! It was like I couldn’t help myself! He’s just so…cute! I mean, you’re the one who issued a hottie alert for him!”
To my surprise, Sidney didn’t even attempt to deny this. Which is astonishing, since she’s way concerned about her street cred, even if the only streets she ever ventures onto are the ones right here in Eastport…and Fifth Avenue in the city, of course, but only between 56th (Bendel’s) and 50th (Saks).
“Did I harsh on you?” Sidney wanted to know. “No. I fully understand. But what are you going to do about Seth? He’s gonna find out. I mean, this is a small town.”
I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly, so I removed the pillow, just to be sure. “Wait,” I said. “Did you just say youunderstand?”
“Of course I do,” Sidney said with a sniff. “That boy is a fine, fine example of the modern American male. How could you possibly have resisted? I wouldn’t have been able to myself.”
My heart warmed. Suddenly, I felt fonder for Sidney than I ever had in all the many years of our friendship. It’s true she’s super judgmental, totally shallow, and a huge gossip.
But she can also be the coolest of buds. Like the time I entered that photo contest inParade Magazine, and I didn’t win, and she took me to Serendipity in the city and split a frozen hot chocolate with me and didn’t once point out — as some people might have — that maybe the reason I didn’t win is because I don’t like or understand myself. Nor did she once mention how many calories we were consuming.
And now this.
“Oh, God,” I said, relief coursing through me like cool water after a long bike ride on a hot day. “Sidney, you have no idea — I can’t tell you how worried I’ve been. I was up all nightfreaking out over what you were going to say—”
“Are you joking?” Sidney looked shocked. “Why would I care who you mack with in your spare time? To tell you the truth, I’m a little relieved. I mean, it’s nice to see you’re actually human, for a change.”
I blinked at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, sometimes it’s like you’re perfect, or something.”
Now I was gaping at her.“What?”
“Well, it’s true. I mean, you’re disgustingly good at everything…school, the photography thing. Everybody likes you…even parents. You don’t drink, you don’t smoke. You don’t even put out. And in spite of that, Seth hasn’t dumped you yet.”
I felt a little less warm toward her. “Gee,” I said. “Thanks, Sidney.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. I’m just telling it like I see it. Except for the whole motion-sickness thing, you’re like Little Miss Perfect. Although, you know, better not let Seth find out about Mr. Football Camp, or he’ll flatten the guy’s face. And that would just be a waste. Now come on, get up. We’ve got hair and nail appointments at Spa-by-the-Sea, remember?”
But instead of getting up, I just stared at her. “Mister…what did you call him?”
“What?” Sidney had got up from my bed and gone to look at her reflection in the mirror over my vanity table. “Mr. Football Camp? Isn’t that how you met him? You said he’s some guy Liam went to football camp with. Oh my God, is that a blackhead? Oh, no, just a mascara fleck. Thank God. Hurryup, Katie.”
Fifteen
She didn’t know. I couldn’t believe it. But she really didn’t know.
Well, why would she? She’d seen me macking in the Gull ’n Gulp parking lot with a guy I’d told her had gone to football camp with my brother. Of course she didn’t know that guy was really Tommy Sullivan.
Because the last time Sidney had seen Tommy Sullivan, he’d been a foot shorter and…well, not hot. And because I had lied to her about his true identity at the beach the other day.
Once again, I was caught up in a tangle of my own lies.
But that didn’t mean I was about to fill Sidney in on the facts of the matter. I mean, I’m not stupid. If she believed the guy she’d seen me with was just some random dude we’d seen at The Point, who was I to disabuse her of that notion? It worked for me.
And, okay, I knew at some point she was going to figure it out. If Tommy hadn’t been lying about enrolling at Eastport High, Sidney was totally going to realize who he really was when school started.
And, yeah, she was going to be mad at me for lying.
But maybe I could get out of it somehow. Maybe I could be like, “Oh, wait, that guy? Oh, yeah. That’s Tommy Sullivan. I thought you meant thatother guy….”
Yeah. Okay. Probably not. I was screwed.
But until Sidney figured it out, I was just going to go with it. Because I had way too much other stuff to worry about than the fact that my best friend thought I would french some guy I barely knew on the hood of his car in a parking lot.
Like, for instance, what I was going to do about Tommy.
Because there was no way I was going to let him get away with this. He couldn’t just waltz back into my life and destroy it because of something I’d done to himfour years ago, when we were both still basically children and couldn’t, technically, be held responsible for our actions. Nuh-uh. No way. Not going to happen.
Only how was I going to stop him?
That’s what I was asking myself as Sidney and I got beautified over at Spa-by-the-Sea (which should have been called Spa-by-the-Sound because that’s what it overlooked, but whatever). Mrs. van der Hoff had given us both gift certificates for pre-pageant full-body massages, sunless tanning, non-extraction facials (she didn’t want us to be discolored for the big event), manicures, pedicures, makeup application, and hair styling. Which was super nice of her.
It would have been even nicer of Mrs. van der Hoff if she hadn’t insisted on coming along with us and commenting on everything we did. (“Are you sure you want a French manicure, Sid? You know how tacky they can look if you don’t get a thin enough line.” “Should you really wear your hair down, Katie? It would be so pretty up, with just a few tendrils curling down, here and there.”)
Still, it was nice she took an interest. Not that my own mother doesn’t. She’s just busy with her job, something Sidney’s mom, who doesn’t work, doesn’t have to worry about.
And I have to admit, her presence kept Sidney from asking me uncomfortable questions, such as, “So what’s the guy from the parking lot’s name?” and “When are you going to see him again?” and “Does Hottie McHot-a-Lot know you’ve got a boyfriend? Who’s on the football team? And not just any football team, but theQuahogs?”
It wasn’t because Sidney shied away from embarrassing me in front of her mother. She simply couldn’t get a word in edgewise. The only time Sidney’s mom stopped talking was when I was under the hair dryer — and that’s just because I couldn’t hear her with all the hot air blowing around me. I used the opportunity to decide what I was going to do about Tommy. Which was…avoid him. I had to. I had no choice. Clearly I couldn’t be in his presence and not throw myself at him.
And now that I’d actually tasted the sweet nectar that is Tommy Sullivan’s kisses (ew…but it’s true), I knew it was going to beextra hard to resist him.
But I was just going to have to gird my loins (um, literally) and do it. Because I hadway too much at stake.
So I would just do everything I possibly could not to be in his presence. If he called my cell, I wouldn’t pick up. (Thank God I’d never given him my number anyway.) If he called at home, I’d tell whoever picked up to tell him I was in the shower. If I ran into him on the street, I’d turn and go the other way. If I ran into him at the Gull ’n Gulp, I’d make Shaniqua take his table. If I bumped into him anywhere else, I’d either hide or leave.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if he ended up in any of my classes at school. Steadfastly ignore him, I guess.
And maybe…just maybe…if I did all that, and worddid get out that I’d been seen making out with him (because Sidney was going to put it together one of these days — she wasn’tthat stupid), I could just deny it. I could say that Sidney must have inhaled too many fumes from her spray-on nail polish dryer and was seeing things.
It could work. I may be a liar. But my pants don’t necessarily HAVE to be on fire.
Becoming pageant-ready takes a long time. I didn’t get home until late afternoon — just an hour before I had to show up at Eastport Park — by which time my brother had apparently also just gotten home from Quahog tryouts. As I walked into the house — my hair up (Mrs. van der Hoff won), my tan perfect, my finger- and toenails pearly pink and professionally filed, my makeup immaculately applied — Liam was telling Mom and Dad, who were home from the office and sitting at the kitchen counter, listening to him with rapt attention, “So then Coach Hayes had us do a shuttle run, and I made it in thirty-two seconds, and then he had us do a forty-yard dash, and my time was five point nine seconds, and then we had to run a mile, and I don’t know what my time was on that, but it must have been good, because—”
That’s when everyone finally noticed I had walked into the room, and they turned to me with big smiles on their faces. I knew the smiles weren’t because I looked so good. I wasn’t even in my pageant dress. Yet.
“Well, hi, honey,” Mom said.
“Katie, Katie, guess what?” Liam could barely contain his excitement.
“Um,” I said, pretending like I had no idea what he was about to say. “They found asbestos in the school, and we’re not going to have to go on Monday after all?”
“No,” Liam said. “I made the junior varsity team! I’m a Quahog!”
I screamed politely to show my excitement for him, and then the two of us jumped around the kitchen (me being careful not to jump so hard that my updo fell down), while Mom and Dad beamed at us.
“This calls for a celebration!” Dad declared. “We’re all going to Pizza Hut!”
Mom smacked him. “Steve! You know we can’t! Katie has her Quahog Princess pageant tonight!”
“I know,” Dad said, grinning. “I was kidding. But we could still go after. For a double celebration, when she wins.”
“I won’t win,” I said, at the same time Mom said, “Why would we go to Pizza Hut when they’re having the Taste of Eastport in the park tonight?”
Meanwhile, Liam was going, “Wow, Katie, if you win tonight, then we’llboth be Quahogs.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to think about how quahogs make me gag. “Great!”
“You should’ve heard Coach Hayes’s speech — you know, to the new junior varsity team, after all the losers went home—”
“Hey,” I said, not smiling anymore. “They aren’t losers, just because they didn’t make the team. They just didn’t make the team.”
“Um, hello,” Liam said sarcastically. “That is the definition of loser. So Coach Hayes, he goes, ‘Today is the first day of your new lives…not as ordinary citizens of Eastport. But as Quahogs. As a Quahog, you will find that new doors are open to you…doors that were never open to you as ordinary schmos—’”
“Schmos?”I raised my eyebrows. “He called people who aren’t Quahogs schmos?”
I don’t know why I was so insulted. I don’t even know what a schmo is.
“May I finish?” Liam asked. “So then he goes, ‘And as Quahogs you have a tradition to live up to. A tradition of greatness. There are people out there who will try to tear you down, just because they’re jealous of your greatness—’”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, with a glance at my parents. “Are you guys listening to this?”
“The Quahogsare the top-ranked team in the state,” Mom said. “Maybe even the country.”
“Yeah, butjealous of your greatness?” I shook my head. “Comeon.”
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