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  “Why?” She looks like I’ve crushed her soul or something.

  “I don’t know.” I head for the door as she starts bawling.

  Chapter Thirty

  It’s only after I get outside that I realize I have no ride home. Dallas drove me here, and there’s no one in there in any shape to drive except for his parents, and there’s no way I’m asking them. It’s too far and too foggy to walk. I probably can’t even walk that far. I sit on the curb and pull out my phone. There’s only one person to call.

  “You just interrupted episode four of Soul Eater. This better be an emergency.”

  “Izzy, I need a ride home.”

  “Holy crap, how drunk are you?”

  “Really, really drunk.”

  She sighs like I am the biggest inconvenience ever. “I’m not impressed, Russell.”

  “Do you want me to walk and get lost in the fog? Or maybe I should borrow someone’s car and kill a few people on the way home.”

  “Okay! Ugh, I’ll send the car. Daphne!”

  I groan. Not Daphne. I really don’t need a lecture right now. “Why can’t you come?”

  “I am in the middle of episode four! And we’re already behind because we had to go to the game. It’s not my fault you didn’t think of a way to get home sooner.”

  “That’s harsh, sis.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t like people who accuse my friend of being a whore. And I really don’t like people who shit all over their best friends. Daphne will be there in ten.” She hangs up.

  Maybe if I wasn’t so drunk I’d be pissed, but I just sit there, stunned. Keira and Garret must be with her, and they told her some twisted version of what actually happened. Now even my sister hates me? I put my head in my hands. I wish Trent was around to set things straight. He’d defend me. But he’s broken up about Izzy and Colin. He probably won’t set foot in my house ever again.

  It’s freezing outside, which is probably the only thing keeping me coherent at this point. My shoes are blurry. My head spins like a merry-go-round. The fog seems to be closing in on me, crushing me. This is the part where drinking stops being fun and starts sucking hard. But I smile, almost excited for the part after this.

  Passing out.

  For a few hours it will all be gone. I won’t have to deal with it.

  The headlights make my brain throb. I cuss at the driver for being so inconsiderate. A door slams. There’s a figure in front of me. It’s definitely a girl figure, but I’m not sure who it is.

  “Russ.”

  “Daphne?” I focus hard. That might be her wild black hair. Whoa, neon yellow belt. It’s definitely her. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Taking you home.” Her hand rests on my back, more gentle than I expect. “Can you get up?”

  “Aren’t you gonna yell at me?”

  “Later.” She pulls at my arm. “Come on, stand up. I might be strong, but I can’t carry you.”

  I try, but my legs feel like jelly. I grab on to her, hoping not to fall over. She puts both her hands on my chest, steadying me. Standing there staring at her, I know she’s the only thing keeping me up right now.

  I gasp. “That’s why.”

  “What?”

  That’s why I can’t kiss Mercedes. She’s just my friend. I don’t need her like I need Daphne. She’s the one who steadies me, who knows what I try so hard to hide, the one who’s always been there.

  She’s the one I care about.

  “Daphne.” I put my hand on her cheek and she jumps. But she doesn’t move.

  “Russ.” She looks up at Dallas’s giant mansion, like just being near it frightens her. “I really need to get you home.”

  “Okay, I need your help.”

  “I’m right here.” She helps me to the door, makes sure I don’t bump my head, puts on my seat belt. Then she turns Puke around and heads home.

  The silence hurts my head. I don’t like when Daphne is quiet; I like to hear her voice and thoughts. I watch her as she concentrates on the road, all serious and intense. “Are you mad at me, too?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” She takes a deep breath. “There’s no doubt you were interested in her at one point.”

  I groan. “I told you that was a big mistake. She’s awful. Crazy.”

  “Keira is not my favorite person, but she’s not that bad. It’s not even that, though. You abandoned Garret, just left him after what happened at the game. He’s devastated, Russ, and you didn’t even have the decency to take care of him.”

  “He left me! I tried to tell him the truth and he didn’t believe me. You think I wanted to lose my best friend? I was trying to protect him!” I put my hand on my head because it’s starting to pound.

  “I don’t know what to believe.”

  I take her hand and raise it to my lips. “Daphne, I don’t give a shit about Keira. You of all people should know that.”

  She pulls her hand away. “You’re drunk.”

  “That doesn’t mean…” My stomach lurches. “Doesn’t mean…” No, keep it together.

  “Russ?”

  I lean forward, unable to hold it back. The puke keeps coming. It’s all over my shoes, and the smell keeps me heaving. But I feel her hand on my back, and somehow that makes everything okay.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Now this is a hangover. The second I’m awake, all I want is to stay asleep. My head pounds so hard it feels like my eyeballs might pop out. It’s too light, even though my curtains are closed. I pull my covers over my head to block it.

  Then it all comes flooding back. Not in great detail, which is maddening. I remember subjects, but I can’t be sure exactly how they went and that worries me. I drank a lot. I know that for sure. And something went down with Mercedes. Did I kiss her? No. Yes? I’m pretty sure I didn’t. I hope I didn’t.

  Daphne was there. Why was she there? She came to take me home, probably, but there’s more to it. It takes a moment, but then it slams into my chest.

  I like her.

  And not just the “we’re good friends” like, or the “damn, she’s hot” like. I like her, from the wacko clothes to her knowing smile and back again.

  Did I tell her that? I was so smashed by then I honestly can’t remember. But I do remember one thing—I definitely threw up in front of her. Puking in Puke. I guess there’s some kind of poetry in that. After that, it’s all blank. I don’t even know how I got to my bed.

  “I’m glad you’re alive,” she says.

  I freeze. Daphne’s in my room. Did we…? I’m afraid to open my eyes and see her in one of my T-shirts or something, but I do it anyway. She sits at the side of my bed, perched in my desk chair. She’s still wearing her own clothes, and now I realize I’m fully dressed in my stuff from last night. So maybe not.

  “Were you here all night?” Whoa, I sound like a bullfrog.

  “I didn’t know how much you drank.” She doesn’t look at me and her lip quivers. “I thought you might get alcohol poisoning or whatever, so I stayed here to make sure you kept breathing.”

  “Daphne…” I reach out for her knee, and she puts her hand over mine. Something happened last night. Sure wish I could remember what. “I’m so sorry.”

  She sucks in a quick breath and her fingers curl around mine. “That was scary as hell, Russ.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “How do you know? What if something’s wrong with you?”

  “My throat is sorer than usual from throwing up, but otherwise this is just a hangover.” I put my hand on my neck, as if I’ll be able to massage the pain away. “So no more worrying, okay?”

  She nods, satisfied with the explanation.

  “Did you…clean that up?”

  “No one else would.”

  I cover my face, ashamed of what I put her through. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

  She lets go of my hand. “They were mad at me just for helping you. Izzy told me to leave when you woke up.”

/>   “They really hate me that much?”

  “You know Izzy.”

  I do know Izzy. Her temper is ridiculous, and her punishments are over-the-top and absolute. If she thinks I did something to injure her people, then I’m not surprised she’s reacting so intensely. “So what does that mean? Have I been banished?”

  “Basically.”

  “But I didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t you believe me?”

  She bites her lip. “You…said things last night.”

  I tense, feeling guilty I have to ask. “You’ll have to jog my memory, if you don’t mind.”

  She picks at her nail polish, which means she’s nervous. I can’t believe how much I know about her, and yet it took me so long to see the obvious. “You said me of all people should know you don’t like Keira. But I didn’t know exactly what that meant. It could mean that I know you really well, so I should know you would never do something like that. Or it could mean…”

  My heart pounds harder. I want her to say it, to give me a crystal clear sign that I’m not going out on a limb here. “Or what?”

  “It’s impossible.” She covers her face. “The other option is impossible. It has to be the first one.”

  “What’s impossible?” I push myself up, though it kills. “Just tell me.”

  She looks me in the eye, and I know I’m not the only one hoping here. She has to see it on my face, how much I want to be with her.

  Then she pops up from her chair. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Either way, I believe you. But you know Izzy won’t care what I think, and she’ll get mad if I stay up here any longer, so…”

  “Daphne!” I call as she heads for the door. Against my better judgment, I try to get out of bed. The world spins, and I grab for my desk.

  Then she’s there, holding me up again. “You need to rest.”

  “I know.” I put my hand on her shoulder, unable to hold this in. She might be afraid, but I’m not. “I just wanted to tell you it’s option two.”

  She goes rigid. “What?”

  “How could I like Keira”—I tuck her hair behind her ear—“when I have you around?”

  She sucks in a breath, shaking her head. “But you’re the most popular guy in school. You have your pick of any girl. You can’t want me.”

  I slide down to sit on my bed, too dizzy to stay standing. I pull her hand until she’s sitting next to me. “Who else could I take to get a food handler’s permit? I can talk to you about anything and never have to worry about what you think. I want you. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. You’re the only girl I’ve ever really cared about.”

  Tears stream down her cheeks. I hope they’re happy, but I don’t think they are. “Why does this have to happen now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She leans on my shoulder, her tears wetting my shirt. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that? And now you have and…” She breaks into sobs. I have no idea what’s going on because I’m pretty sure she said she wanted me to like her. But I hold her and let her cry. I take care of her like she took care of me.

  When she composes herself she looks up at me. “We can’t be together.”

  My heart sinks. “Why not?”

  “Because!” She stands up, furious. “Izzy knows how long I’ve liked you, and last night she got really pissed at me for taking care of you. She thought I was favoring you and thus betraying her. She said I had to pick—you or her.”

  “Daph, she’s just overreacting. She can’t—”

  “She was dead serious! She thinks you’re a total traitor for abandoning Garret in his ‘greatest hour of need.’ I don’t even think it’s so much about the Keira shit. You know what she’s like: friends for life, defend them to the death. She’s a walking anime character!”

  I sigh, frustrated. “So you’re saying you pick her over me?”

  “She’s my only friend!” She sobs it, so I barely understand. “I’m not like you. If Izzy disowns me, do you think I have anywhere to go?”

  It’s only then that I realize I’m not the only one trapped by my label. Sure, Daphne claims to be herself, but in a lot of ways she isn’t. Around Izzy she has to conform to weirdness whether she wants to or not. Because she’s the sidekick. That’s what she meant that day we went to the health department. Sometimes she just wants to be normal and listen to Taylor Swift and like the socially-conforming jock. But she can’t.

  “You could be with me.”

  Her laugh is sad. “Oh? You think you could just sit me down with Mercedes and Dallas? Dallas, who calls me Clown Bitch on a daily basis?”

  I get angry thinking about it. “I’d never let him call you that.”

  She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. I would never, ever be comfortable sitting with them. They’d look down on me. Girls would shoot me evil glares, wishing me dead because I must have made a pact with the devil in order to date you.”

  I put my head in my hands. She’s right. I’ve seen more than once how Garret’s girlfriends were treated by jealous hopefuls. And they were usually friends. I couldn’t put her through that. “This isn’t fair.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to be strong. “Okay, so we wait.”

  She frowns.

  It’s hard to say, but I do it anyway. “Izzy might come around, and I’m telling you it’ll all come out with Keira one way or another. I can’t take you away from your friends, even if they hate me for no reason.”

  She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she comes over and wraps her arms around me. It takes me off guard, but in all the good ways. She’s so warm and soft, the tough exterior dropped for me. I squeeze her back, never wanting to let go. But eventually she has to stop. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  “You can do that whenever you want.”

  “I wish.” The full meaning of this goodbye hits. It’s not just that we can’t be together. She can’t talk to me anymore. She can’t sneak up on me in the kitchen or even smile at me across the room. This is so unfair, but all I can do is hope it doesn’t last.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Lunch is the worst because I can see her sitting there, miserable. There’s nothing I can do but watch, all the while ignoring my sister pulling down her lower eyelid at me. Maybe I should be grateful she’s acknowledging my presence. At least it’s better than the complete silence of the last couple of weeks.

  Now that I know I have someone to miss, I feel it all the time. This is the worst thing to come of the Keira debacle. I lost my sister, my best friend, a welcome spot at anime night—now I’ve lost something that might have been. Daphne and I would have happened somehow. I would have noticed her eventually. It would have been easy to fall in step together. Well, easier.

  I pick at my food, frustrated. There are things I want to tell her, things I want to ask. We spent so much time together, what with her always hanging out at my house. I didn’t realize how often we talked, just random conversations that somehow added up. Now whenever I enter a room at home, Izzy escorts her entourage to another. It’s like I have the plague.

  “Cheer up, man,” Dallas says to me. “I know Garret went insane, but you still have friends.”

  I nod.

  As fake as it felt before, it’s worse now. What does it even mean? I’m sitting with the team—the team I don’t actually belong to anymore. Here we are, still acting it out. I can’t stand the idea of doing this for the rest of the year. Maybe that’s why Garret lost it. He saw this coming and didn’t want to be sitting here stuck in the past.

  “Dude, seriously,” Dallas says. “You gotta quit it. Let’s go to River Park and pick up some chicks or something. Should be tons of hotties shopping for the holidays.”

  I sigh. As much as I want to say no, the other option is being shunned by everyone at my house. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

  He smiles, slapping me on the back. “Now we’re talking! Time for some fun.”

 
River Park is this huge outdoor shopping place in North Fresno. Anything you need, you can find it there. Add to that a movie theater and restaurants, and you have the perfect spot to waste time and check out girls. The place is packed, the holiday rush in full swing, and the weather is pretty warm for December.

  Dallas makes a beeline for Victoria’s Secret. I have to grab his arm to stop him from going in. “You can’t be serious.”

  “What?” he says. “There are definitely hot chicks in there.”

  I roll my eyes. Suddenly it’s crystal clear why he can’t get a girlfriend. “And you’re gonna creep the hell out of them.”

  “Then what would you do?”

  “You have to play it subtle, dude.” Garret used to do this all the time, and I just followed his lead. I never realized he had it down to a brilliant formula, but the way Dallas blatantly checks out any attractive girl we pass makes Garr look like a pro in comparison. I don’t really want to hit on anyone, but I figure it’s a public service to teach Dallas how to be less of a douche. “C’mon.”

  We head to Subway near the theater and get in line to order sandwiches. Since it’s one of the “healthier” fast food places, more girls eat there. Two girls stand in front of us, both pretty cute, but I pretend not to notice. Dallas, on the other hand, is staring them down. I nudge him, and he at least has the sense to stop.

  About midway through the whole ordering process, I “accidentally” bump into one of the girls. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she says softly. “My fault.”

  “Definitely not.” I nudge her again, this time smiling. “Oops. See? My fault.”

  She blushes.

  After we get our food, I pass the girls’ table, adding a glance for good measure, and head outside in front of the theater to eat. The weather isn’t bad, just a slightly cool breeze, and it’s good to be out in the open like you own the place.

  “Holy shit, they followed us,” Dallas says.

  Sure enough, the girls from Subway sit across the way at an outdoor table. It’s pretty obvious that they’re checking us out.