Autumn Falls (11 page)

I click it and end up on some sports reporter’s blog post about all the reasons Peyton Manning is a better quarterback than Dan Marino.

I don’t even read it before I text back.

I go to bed all giddy. When I wake up there’s a text from Jenna.

it says.

I will, I think. I’m honestly not sure how I lived without this journal. I consider placing an order for a fire drill to get me out of English, but I decide Jenna does have a point. Or she did before I changed her mind. There could be rules to the journal, and I have no idea what they are. It’s possible
it has a limited number of wishes in it, or maybe I can only make so many every day or every week. I should save its power for truly important things.

But as long as I have it at the ready, I am unstoppable. I can avoid any obstacle tossed in my path. I’m so excited I practically float to school.

“Isn’t it a great day?” I tell J.J. when I see him at our corner.

He looks unenthused. “It’s the middle of winter, it’s eighty degrees, and I’ve been outside for all of five minutes and my shirt is stuck to my body.”

“Which is a very sexy look,” I say. “I’d run with it.”

“If I were a lesser friend, I’d ask what you were on,” J.J. says. “And if I were an even lesser friend, I’d ask you to get me some.”

I almost tell him. After all, he’s the one who said he’d go “hopeless romantic” with his wish, and that’s what inspired me to set up the Sean date. I bet he’d be thrilled it actually worked out.

Then I remember he told me he’s a debunker. He wouldn’t believe the journal had anything to do with the date. Or if he did, he’d want me to use it to cast a little romance his way, and I’ve already decided to be thrifty with the wishes.

“Can’t I just be happy to see you?” I ask as we cross the street.

“Permission granted.”

I wonder how things will be with Sean today. Will he wait for me before homeroom so we can sit together? Will he meet me at my locker?

“Got a question for you,” J.J. says.

I glance over at him. I expect him to be grinning, but he’s looking at the ground and his hands are in his pockets.

“Everything okay?” I ask, feeling a flutter of concern.

“Oh yeah! Yeah. I just … I was wondering.” Now he looks at me, but there’s something strange in his eyes. He takes his hands out of his pockets and then shoves them back in. “This is crazy.” He lets out a nervous laugh. “I mean, uh, you’d think I’d never done this before.”

Now I’m staring at him. “Done what?”

“This is stupid. I’m just going to come out and say it. Autumn, will you be my date to the Winter Formal?”

I keep walking, but inside I freeze.

I did
not
expect this. At all.

But I should have, I realize. Yesterday, when Jack said J.J. wanted to ask someone, and J.J. wouldn’t say who,
I
was the who. When he said he’d go hopeless romantic … he was thinking about me.

I can’t believe this. And I’ve obviously waited way too long to answer. J.J.’s face goes red.

“Sorry,” he says, staring straight ahead. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, you should have,” I say, then cringe at the hope in his eyes. “I mean, I totally would have said yes … but I already told Sean Geary I’d go with him.”

“Sean Geary asked you?”

“Just last night. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s all good.” J.J. runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat. “So, uh, did Jack tell you his parents are taking him and his sister to L.A. over spring break? Disneyland. We’re a one-hour flight from Disney World, and they want to go to Disneyland.”

I want to call him on the blatant—and ferociously lame—subject change, but what are we going to do instead, talk about how long he’s felt this way? Why I’ve never even thought about him as more than a friend?

I’m thinking about it
now
, of course, since he put the idea in my head. J.J. would be an amazing boyfriend. He’s cute. And funny. And I’ve loved being with him from the second we met.

But Sean makes me sweat, and not just because Florida is the stickiest state in the union (which I believe should be the new motto on their license plates). So instead of forcing the conversation back to something meaningful, I keep up my end of the Disneyland versus Disney World blather until we get to school.

Amalita and Jack are both waiting for us when we get in.

“Hey, guys!” Amalita says, and my stomach sinks at her expectant, all-knowing expression. She links her arms through both of ours and walks us toward the lockers. “How was your walk? Anything new?”

I shoot my eyes toward J.J. and see him shake his head
subtly but firmly at Amalita before he smiles. “Actually, yeah,” he says. “Autumn told me she’s going to the Winter Formal with Sean Geary.”

“Oooh, ouch,” Jack winces.

“Dude …,” J.J. warns. He breaks away from Amalita and pulls Jack with him toward his own locker. Amalita crosses her arms.

“What?” I finally say.

“Sean Geary?”

“I know you’re not crazy about him. Trust me, there’s more to him than you think.”

She looks down at an imaginary chip on her green-polished nails. “Not impressed.”

“Are you mad because it’s Sean, or because it’s not J.J.?” I ask her.

“You don’t want to go out with J.J.,
lo que sea
, that’s between you and him. I just think you can do better than Sean. Haven’t you ever heard the thing about judging someone by the company they keep?”

I smile beatifically. “That’s why Sean asked me out. He judged me by you, J.J., and Jack. He couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t make me smack you.”

She doesn’t smack me. We join back up with Jack and J.J. and everything seems normal again. Sean doesn’t wait for me so we can sit together in homeroom, but he does wait for me afterward, and while we walk together the short distance to his next class, I promise him I’ll come watch his track practice again.

Part of me wonders if disappointing J.J. was my monkey’s-paw punishment for wishing Sean would take me to the dance. If it is, it’s a bummer, but it’s not awful. I would expect any hideous consequence to come from Reenzie, but all I get from her are dagger looks and flaring nostrils. Those aren’t tortures, they’re treats.

It’s not until two weeks later that the rumors start.

This girl who used to sit at my lunch table back in Maryland once told me that you can boil a frog to death without him trying to escape. You just make the water cold at first, then slowly heat it up so he doesn’t realize it’s getting hotter until it’s too late. She’d assured me that she’d never tried it herself, but … Jenna and I moved tables after that.

But that notion of not being able to react to things until you’re in danger? That’s pretty much what happens to me now. At first everything’s fine. I’m going about my business, walking to classes, seeing my friends, hanging out with Sean after his track practices … totally normal.

Do I notice the whispers and the stares? A little, at first, but I can’t even say when they start because they’re subtle. And it’s not like they’re unexpected. I know Reenzie hates that Sean and I are getting close, so of course she’s going to stare, and Taylor, Zach, and their group follow her lead, so I barely notice how they look at me. When other people look
at me differently, I just assume it’s out of a kind of respect. Sean’s the hottest guy in school. And he’s interested in me, the still-pretty-new girl. I’d look at me differently too.

It’s not until the afternoon I’m approached by Shayla McConkle that I know something’s up.

Shayla is gorgeous in a very earthy way, with long blond braids and a body made for the beach. She wears almost as much makeup as Amalita, and all her clothes are low-cut, skintight, and just this side of trashy. The girl leaves a trail of pheromones wherever she walks, but Amalita told me she’s one of the most conservative people in the entire school.

Amalita, J.J., Jack, and I are walking across the lawn after dumping our lunch trays when Shayla steps directly in my path. She’s wearing a very clingy tank top that reveals the lacy edge of her bra. I hear Jack gasp behind me. She looks at me sternly, and I wonder if I did something wrong to her even though I’ve never said a word to her in my life. I’ve never even officially met her.

“I want you to know I’m disgusted by what you did.”

“Um … okay,” I say. “Shayla, right? I’m Autumn.”

“But when I think about the way you had to pay …” She pats my shoulder and tosses off a sympathetic gaze before she walks away.

“That was weird,” I say, watching her go. “Any clue what it was about?”

“I’ll ask Carrie,” Amalita says. “She’ll know.”

“I’ll ask her,” J.J. says. “I have to talk to her anyway.”

He walks off to find Carrie, and that’s when I really start noticing the looks. They’re coming from everywhere. And it’s as if the very act of my walking past someone triggers their hand to shoot up to their mouth so they can lean over and whisper.

Whisper about me, clearly. But what?

Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with me going to the Winter Formal with Sean.

I’m watching track practice when Amalita calls.

“You are in public, am I right?” she asks.

“I’m watching track.”

“Then you are not allowed to freak out. It will only make it worse.”

“Make what worse? What did you hear?”

“J.J. heard. Carrie told him.”

“Told him
what
?”

“Okay, here it is.
Someone
is spreading a rumor that you, um, got around back in Maryland. A lot. You got preg—”

“What?”

“There’s more. You got pregnant, and your dad was so ashamed he ran off here, where he … I can’t even say it.”

I feel like the world has shrunk down to just me and the phone. I think I know what Amalita is going to say, but I need to hear the words to actually believe it. “It’s okay. Tell me.”

“It’s
not
okay, but I’ll tell you.” She takes a deep breath, then blurts it out. “Everyone’s saying he was so ashamed he came down here and committed suicide. The people
back at home knew all about it, so you and your mom and your brother moved down here.”

It’s exactly what I thought she was going to say, but it’s so bizarre I don’t know how to react. “That doesn’t even make any sense,” I say. “My dad died in a car crash.”

“Which he got into on purpose because he couldn’t live with the shame.”

“That’s
insane
! Who in real life would react that way? No one! No one would react that way!”

“Remember what I said about being in public and not freaking out?”

It’s true. I’m shouting, and everyone else watching track is staring, clucking, and shaking their heads.

I don’t care. I have the phone in a death grip. “Did Carrie tell J.J. who started it?”

“You know who started it,” Amalita says.

“But did she
tell
him?”

“She said she didn’t know. I called her too; she told me the same thing. Everyone’s heard it; no one knows who started it.”

“And everyone believes it? Are they really that stupid?”

More stares and whispers. I want to smack all of them.

“I don’t know if everyone believes it, but people love a story. This is a story.”

I stare out at the field. Reenzie’s right there, in her short shorts and tank top, laughing with the other pole-vaulters like she’s the most innocent girl in the world.

“I’m going to kill her,” I say.

“Autumn,” Amalita warns, “listen. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I hang up. Sometimes I can be kind of impulsive. I react before I think. I cry and yell instead of behaving rationally.

This is one of those times. “Marina Tresca!”

The track team is huge. I’m sure it would be a lie to say
everyone
turns and stares, but everyone in my line of vision does just that. Doesn’t matter. I’m only concerned with Reenzie. I stomp down the hill, right through the track lanes and onto the practice field.

Reenzie has the nerve to smile like we’re best friends. “Hey, Autumn. What’s up?”

I swing at her.

I don’t even know I’m going to do it until I do.

There’s just one problem: I’ve never hit anyone in my life, and it turns out I suck at it. Reenzie easily dodges my punch, which swings my body off balance. Reenzie, who apparently is quite good at fighting, does some kind of kick thing and sweeps my legs out from under me so I wheel around and smack down hard on the back of my head.