Epic Fail (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

I
was still peering out the window when I heard Kaitlyn scream. Terrified, I raced out of the room and found her in my parents’ bathroom, shrieking at the sight of blood dripping from her hand. There were bits of broken glass all over the place. Dad was downstairs in his office and must not have heard her cries.

I calmed her down, and she told me that she had accidentally knocked a glass jar of Mom’s bath salts into the tub where it had shattered. Worried she’d get in trouble for breaking it, she had tried to clean it up herself and cut her finger on a shard of glass—not too badly, I discovered once I had helped her rinse it off, but it was bleeding enough to thoroughly freak her out.

Layla drifted in to see what the noise was all about and idly informed us that the ancient Romans used to kill people by putting ground-up glass in their drinks, a fact that succeeded in eliciting new screams from our little sister who was now convinced she had inhaled glass powder and wouldn’t survive the night.

I calmed her down from
that
and said to Layla, “I thought you were going over to Campbell’s tonight.” I pressed a fresh wad of cotton on Kaitlyn’s wound.

“She canceled. Her dad has some big event he wanted her to go to.”

“Oh. Well, I’m stuck home, too.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Want to watch a movie? We can check out what’s available On Demand.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll make popcorn.” She stopped at the threshold. “But not a stupid PG movie. I’m old enough to see R ones now.”

“But then I can’t watch it,” Kaitlyn wailed. “That’s not fair.”

“You can watch something for little kids in Mom and Dad’s room,” Layla said, with intentionally infuriating condescension as she left the room.

“I hate watching movies all by myself,” Kaitlyn said.

“I’ll stay with you. Hey, I think the bleeding’s stopped.” I lifted the bandage, and she looked down and saw the drying blood on it and started screaming all over again.

Oh, yeah, this was way more fun than any stupid old semiformal.

While Layla and Dad watched a movie that was, in fact, R-rated, to Layla’s delight—and based on some literary novel, to Dad’s—Kaitlyn and I curled up on the bed in my parents’ room to watch some twee teenybopper romance that didn’t have a chance in hell of distracting me from my thoughts.

I wondered if Juliana was having a good time.

Of course she was. She had gone to a dance with a guy she really liked. What was better than that? And she had looked beautiful tonight and they were probably dancing together right at this moment and then they’d ride back in his limo—

Would Derek be in the car with them? And if so, who else? I was tempted to sneak off and text Juliana to ask her if he had brought anyone to the dance, but then I thought Chase might see my text and think I cared who Derek had gone with, and I didn’t care.

I mean, I was maybe a little curious. But I didn’t
care
.

I got Kaitlyn to go to bed in time for me to join the others for the last few minutes of their movie and then lingered lazily on the sofa with Layla, watching one stupid TV show after another. Dad found us still in the same place over an hour later and wasn’t happy.

“I’m especially disappointed in you, Elise,” he said. “You usually use your time better.”

“I’m tired,” I said.

“So read a book. That’s relaxing.” Neither of us responded to that. He sighed. “I’m going to bed. Tell your mother to close up for the night when she gets back.”

A little while later, we heard a car pull up in front of the house and Layla ran out. “Juliana’s back!” she called from the hallway. I quickly scrambled off the sofa and out to the foyer where she was already heading out the open door. I hauled her back in and shoved it closed.

“What are you doing?” she said, twisting away from me. “I wanted to see the limo again.”

“Juliana needs her privacy right now. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

“I understand now!” she said angrily. “Stop treating me like a baby, Elise. I get it. You think she wants to make out with him. God, you’re a jerk!” She stormed angrily upstairs.

I stared after her for a moment, half laughing, half annoyed. She thought she got it, but she didn’t really—that was the thing about Layla.

I heard Juliana’s key in the door a moment later and opened it for her.

“Oh, good, it’s you,” she said wearily.

“Dad went to bed. Mom hasn’t come home yet.”

“I know. She was dealing with a situation.” She shoved her fingers through her hair. “One that involved Chelsea Baldwin.”

“What happened? What did I miss?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Tell me every detail.”

She headed toward the stairs. “It begins with the fact that Chelsea was dateless.”

I followed her. “Really? I thought she’d go with Derek.”

Juliana shot me a look over her shoulder. “According to Chase, he only asked one girl, and when she said no, he decided not to go at all.”

Why did I kind of feel relieved about that?

“Anyway, Chelsea kept saying she’d find someone to hang with there. So she splits off, which is great, but later she comes running over to me and Chase, and she’s actually in tears—” She stopped abruptly as we reached the top of the stairs, because Layla was coming out of her room.

“What are you talking about?” she asked eagerly. “Who was in tears?”

“No one,” Juliana said. “It’s not important.”

“Come on, tell me. You’re telling Elise.”

“Go to bed,” I said. “It’s late.”

“Why do you guys always do this to me?” she said, her voice rising. “You always leave me out. I bet I know more about stuff like sex and parties than either of you!”

“I hope not,” Jules said. “And keep your voice down—you’ll wake up Dad and Kaitlyn.”

“I hate you and your stupid secrets!” She slapped at my arm. “I know a secret you’d kill to know, but just for that, I’m not going to tell you!” She turned on her heel and disappeared back into her room, slamming the door, which led—no surprise—to an audible complaint from her roommate.

“What was that about?” I asked Jules. “What secret would we kill to know?”

“She was just bluffing. Come on—let’s talk in private.” Juliana led me into our bedroom and shut the door.

I sat down on the edge of my bed. “Tell me what happened with Chelsea.”

She pushed off her dress shoes, curled up against her pillows, and told me.

The story was this: Chelsea had slipped out of the hotel ballroom where the dance was being held to meet some random senior guy she’d been flirting with. One of the teachers happened to go out back to smoke and spied them sneaking sips from a flask and exchanging deep French kisses that had led to even more intimate fondling by the time my mother had been summoned and had arrived on the scene.

She confronted Chelsea and the senior, told them that they would be suspended from school for three days and that she’d be calling their parents later that evening to notify them. Hence, Chelsea’s tears. She clutched at Juliana as if they had always been BFFs. “You
have
to help me!” she sobbed. “You have to get your mother to back off!” And she had pulled Chase into it, too, begging him to help her persuade Juliana, “because otherwise I’ll be grounded forever, you know I will! Dad will kill me, and then he’ll ground me.”

“He can’t ground her if he’s already killed her,” I pointed out when Juliana quoted this to me. “Well, he can, but it wouldn’t have the same impact.”

Juliana wasn’t amused. “Seriously, Elise, it was awful. Chelsea really expected me to go to work on Mom, and I think Chase kind of did, too.”

“Mom wouldn’t have changed her mind no matter what you said.”

“I know. But . . .” Her attempt to explain this to Chelsea apparently hadn’t gone over well. Chelsea accused her of being mean, of wanting to see her punished. “You never liked me!” Chelsea had spat out. “You think I get in your way with Chase! You probably told your mother to spy on me.”

“Oh, now, that’s logical,” I said.

“I know, right? The drive home was so awful, Elise—Chelsea was angry and crying, and Chase was mad at her for being an idiot but also I think at me for not helping.”

“He can’t be mad about that. Chelsea got herself into this mess.”

“Why does it have to be my mother who deals with it, though? I mean, I know why, but it sucks.” Jules stood up and went over to the large green dresser that had belonged to Dad when he was a kid and had been repainted so many times you could see layers of colors wherever it was scratched.

“It’ll blow over.”

She didn’t respond to that, just pulled a pair of violet pajamas out of a drawer. She started to get changed, so I figured our conversation was over and reached for the book I kept on my night table. I had read about a page of it when Juliana broke the silence. “He wanted me to go with him to the after-party.”

I looked up. “Chase? Didn’t you tell him we’re not allowed?”

“Of course.” She leaned against the dresser and retied her pajama bottoms. “So then he said it didn’t have to be the after-party, we could just drop Chelsea off and go do something alone together later.”

“You’re here, so I’m guessing you said no.”

“I’d already told Mom I was coming straight home.”

“She’d probably understand if you said you were just grabbing a bite or something.”

“I guess. It seemed easier to come home.” She hesitated, chewing on her lip for a moment, then came over and sat down on my bed. I curled up my legs to make more room for her. She said in a low voice, “I wasn’t sure I wanted to go out.”

“I thought you liked Chase.”

“I do! More than I’ve ever liked a guy before. That’s why I’m—” She stopped. “I feel stupid even saying this.” She stared down at her hands. “I’m nervous, Elise. About being alone with him late at night. I’ve already done more with him than I’ve ever done with any guy.”

“Really?” I closed my book and put it aside. “Like what?”

“Wow,” she said with a laugh. “
That
got your attention.”

“How far have you guys gone?”

“Not very. Chelsea went further with that guy tonight whose name she barely knows than I’ve gone with Chase.” She hugged her knees up to her chest and rubbed her cheek against them. “It’s not something I want to rush. But I’m getting the feeling that maybe he wants to be doing more, you know?”

“He’s a guy,” I said. “Of course he does. Does he push you?”

“Not in a bad way.” She smiled a little private smile. “In nice ways, if you know what I mean. And he always stops when I tell him to stop. But then I worry that maybe I’m disappointing him.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Anyway, it seemed like tonight could have gotten a little too intense, since he’s leaving tomorrow. Plus the car ride was so—”

“Wait, he’s going away tomorrow? Where?”

“There’s some lacrosse showcase tournament. The boys’ and girls’ teams go together every year, and they stay in some hotel in San Francisco. It’s not the actual season yet, so it’s just for fun.”

“Oh. Derek’s on the team, too, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “He’ll be gone, too. Why?”

“I was just thinking Chelsea should be pleased: she picked a good week to get suspended.”

“I’ll be sure to point that out to her, next time we talk.” She sighed. “If there is a next time.”

“There are worse things in life than getting the silent treatment from Chelsea Baldwin,” I said. “Would you like me to start listing them? This could take a while. Let’s see . . . rainbows, puppies, winning the lottery—” I would have gone on, except she threw a pillow in my face.

Chapter Twelve

W
ebster was in astronomy class on Monday looking exhausted and thinner than ever—if that was even possible. He kept apologizing for canceling. I told him not to worry, that it sounded like we hadn’t missed much, except for a minor scandal.

“So that explains why Princess C isn’t in class today,” he said, when I told him about the suspension. “It’s just not the same here without her. It’s so strangely
pleasant
.”

Poor Chelsea: no one mourned her. Earlier, in English, Gifford had gloated. “She always thinks she’s above the rules. The old director used to let kids get away with anything if their parents were big donors like the Baldwins, so I think it’s cool that your mother actually suspended her. She totally deserved it.” She fingered the bejeweled elastic that held her perfectly smooth ponytail in place. “I’m going over to her house later today to keep her company—her parents, like, totally grounded her for the entire week. She needs her friends right now.”

“It’s good she’s got you,” I said, hiding a smile.

“Yeah, I know.” She lowered her voice. “By the way, she is, like, so furious at your whole family right now—you know, because your mom suspended her and your sister didn’t help and she said you’ve been really unpleasant to her from the beginning—”

“Wait, what did
I
do?”

The teacher called for our attention, and Gifford leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Elise. When she calms down, you can apologize. She’ll get over it.”

“Apologize for what?” I whispered back but she had already settled in her seat and didn’t hear me.

That night, I came into our room and found Juliana sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring unhappily at her cell phone. I immediately shut the door behind me.

“What are you doing, Jules? If Mom and Dad catch you texting in the house—”

“Look at this, Elise. What do you think he means?”

She handed me the cell phone, and I peered at the screen. It was from Chase.

This is so much fun. Wish I never had to come back.

“It’s a little weird, don’t you think?” she said.

“He’s probably just glad not to be doing homework.”

“Still, he could have said he missed me.” She smiled wanly. “Even if he didn’t.”

I had already staked out a couple of spaces at lunch the next day when Juliana rushed over. “Look at this one,” she said, putting her tray down and handing me her phone. “And the one before it.”

I scrolled through the messages:
too busy to talk
and
came here to get away—from evrythng!!!!

“That’s weird,” I said.

“When we said good-bye, he was all like, ‘I’ll miss you so much—I’ll text you whenever I can.’ And now this.” She sat down heavily on the bench with none of her usual grace. “I don’t get it.” She poked at her sandwich dispiritedly.

I kept staring at the texts, trying to make sense of them.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. “No cell phone use during school hours. No exceptions.”

“I’m sorry! I forgot.” I dropped the phone on the table.

“You—and the phone—will have to come with me to the office so I can write up a warning slip. And you too, Juliana. You had an obligation to remind her of the rules and you didn’t.”

“Aren’t the slips for our parents to sign?” I said. “Isn’t it kind of pointless for you to give us them, Mom?”

“No exceptions,” Mom repeated, and Juliana and I reluctantly got to our feet.

She marched us past all the other lunch tables. I saw like ten kids quickly hide cell phones on their laps as we moved through the courtyard, but there was no gain in pointing that out, so I stayed quiet and slouched sheepishly along at my mother’s side like a naughty little toddler.

Juliana tried calling Chase that night from our home phone. She came up to our room after, upset. “I don’t believe this—a girl answered his phone. She said he was too busy to talk and kept giggling. Elise—”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Really, Jules. The girls’ team went, too, right? They’re probably all hanging out, and one of the girls just grabbed his phone to annoy him. I bet he calls you back in a second.”

But he didn’t. And it made me angry that he could leave her feeling anxious like that.
Come on, dude,
I thought.
Call her.

I assumed that he and Derek were sharing a hotel room, and I told Jules that might explain what was going on. “The girls are all over Derek Edwards at school,” I pointed out. “They’re probably making up every excuse they can to stop by their room.”

“That’s not the most consoling thought,” she said gloomily.

I dropped it but spent some time—when I should have been doing homework—thinking about how Derek had said that stuff about Mom and Layla to me and wondering whether he had complained about them to Chase—and about me, too, since we hadn’t exactly ended our last conversation on good terms. What if he decided he didn’t want his best friend in the whole world—the guy who was like a brother to him—to have anything to do with Dr. Gardiner or her daughters?

And what if girls were crawling onto their hotel beds in skimpy lingerie, curling up with them to watch TV, and inviting them to romp in the hotel hot tub, giving Derek the perfect opportunity to maneuver Chase away from Juliana Benton and her annoying family?

I didn’t say any of that to Juliana. I tried to keep anything I said to her about Chase upbeat and positive, but those thoughts bugged me and made
Richard III
even more incomprehensible than normal.

If I ever found out that Derek Edwards had said or done
anything
to make my sister unhappy, I would kill him.

First I’d kill him, then I’d ground him.

Chase did send a text later that evening, but only in answer to the one Juliana had quickly tapped out in our room while I guarded the door. Hers was:
Is everything okay?
His:
Im havng fun for the first time in weeks
.

What do you mean?
she wrote back.

He answered a few minutes later.
My friends were right. UR a dead end.

Juliana showed me the text. “I know what’s happening now, Elise. He’s fallen in love with some girl on the trip, and she’s a lot more willing to do stuff than I am.” She dropped the phone on her bed and curled up next to it in a fetal position.

“Maybe he’s joking.” I said, but I didn’t believe it, and neither did Juliana.

“Yeah, because it’s so funny.”

“He likes you,” I said. “Chase likes you.”

She sat up and looked at me, eyes all swollen, cheeks red from rubbing against the mattress. “Apparently not.”

I sank down onto my bed and lifted my arms, and then let them drop helplessly onto my lap. “I don’t know, Jules. He seems so nice.”

“Every guy seems nice until he’s not.” That was about the bleakest thing I’d ever heard Juliana say.

Layla had been sniping at me and Jules over every little thing, still angry that we’d refused to include her in our conversation after the semiformal. When she was snarky to Juliana out in the hallway a little while later, I couldn’t take it anymore and told Layla so.

“Look,” I said, “you can be as mad as you want at me, but go easy on Jules, will you? She’s having a tough time right now.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter. You should just—”

“See?” she said. “You don’t trust me. So why should I even listen to you?”

I sighed. “If I tell you, will you promise to keep it to yourself?” She promised and I told her that it looked like maybe Chase was breaking up with Juliana.

“Oh, poor Jules,” Layla said sincerely. She had a weird sort of loyalty to her sisters—it was one thing for her to make our lives miserable, but another thing entirely if someone else did. “He’s an idiot. I’m glad you told me, Lee-Lee. I promise I’ll be extra nice to Juliana.” She was, too, bringing Jules a cup of tea, offering to give her a back rub—which Jules declined—and bringing back a necklace she had borrowed and “forgotten” to return up until then.

“What’s going on with her?” Jules asked me when we were alone again. “Suddenly she can’t be nice enough to me.”

I confessed.

Juliana looked uneasy. “Make sure she knows not to say anything to anyone, will you, Elise? If she goes around telling people that Chase broke up with me, it could be really embarrassing—it makes it sound like I thought we were more serious than he did, and I’ll just look pathetic.”

“I already told her to keep it quiet, but I’ll tell her again.” I found Layla vidchatting with Campbell. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“BRB, Campy,” she said to the computer and shut down the chat. She swiveled to face me. “What’s up?”

I repeated Juliana’s request and she said, “I
know
, Elise. I’m not going to tell anyone. Give me a little credit.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

I stood up to go, but Layla said, “Hey, Elise?”

“What?”

“If you knew something—like, that someone had lied to me or Juliana—would you tell us even if you weren’t supposed to?”

“What is this about?” I asked, sitting back down and eyeing her warily.

“Just answer the question. Would you?”

“If I thought you should have the information, then yeah. We’re sisters. We have to look out for each other.”

She nodded soberly and turned back toward the computer. “Hold on. I have to show you something.” She tapped on the keyboard. “Look.” She tilted the screen toward me. I leaned forward so I could see it better: a photo of a man and a girl at a big dressy event. It looked like a father and daughter, although it was probably a mistake to jump to that conclusion, this being L.A. and all.

Then I recognized the girl. “That’s Campbell, right?” She was wearing a dress in a beige shade that wasn’t particularly flattering to her dull skin, but her hair was arranged in a gorgeous (professionally styled) updo and she was wearing a ton of makeup. “Is that her father?”

“Yeah. Remember how I said she was going to some event with him last weekend?”

“Vaguely. He does look kind of familiar.”

“He should. He’s a TV star. And that’s her mother, but you can’t really see her.” She pointed to a bare shoulder, an earring-ed lobe, and a beautifully curled lock of hair on George McGill’s other side. “She’s an actress, too. Campbell said she’s on TV a lot, but just in small roles.”

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Because of this.” She pointed at whoever was sitting on Campbell’s other side. He was slightly out of focus and would have been completely outside of the frame of the picture, except he was leaning in toward Campbell like he was about to say something to her, so a small amount of his profile had been caught by the camera. Something about the wavy hair and the skinny wrist poking out of his suit jacket seemed familiar.

I squinted at the computer. “Wait, is that
Webster
?”

“Yep. He went with Campbell and her parents to the awards show.”

“I didn’t know he knew her that well.” I shrugged. “Weird. I’ll have to ask him how he got invited along.”

“That’s not the point. This was Saturday night.
Saturday night
. The night Webster told you he couldn’t go to the dance because he was sick.”

“Oh.” It sank in. “Is this the secret you were talking about, Lay? You knew that Webster lied to me so he could go with Campbell to this?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Lee-Lee. I would have told you sooner, only Campbell told me not to. She said Webster really wanted to go with her to this, but he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“I’d rather have my feelings hurt than find out someone lied to me.”

“Really?” That seemed to surprise her. She shrugged and went on. “Campbell thinks he’s, like, totally in love with her. But there’s no way. I mean, he’s really cute. And she’s—” Layla made a vague gesture in the direction of the computer screen. “She’s my friend and all, but she’s kind of . . . you know. Anyway, I think he just wanted to meet her dad and go to that thing—there were tons of celebrities there.”

I nodded absently, distracted. I was trying to figure out how I felt about discovering that Webster Grant had blown me off so he could go to an awards show with a ninth grader and her showbiz father.

It was actually a little disturbing that I wasn’t more outraged. Something about Webster made it easy for me to accept the idea that he’d lie to get out of a tough situation.

“Are you upset?” Layla was peering at me with concern.

“Nah,” I said, and realized to my relief that it was true. “I’m fine.”

My mother launched a stealth attack as I was heading back up the stairs—sprung out from where she was lurking, grabbed me by the arm, and hauled me into the empty living room. “What’s going on with Juliana and Chase?” she demanded.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked her if they had plans for this weekend and she said she doubted it, and I got the feeling something was wrong.” She shoved her glasses up her nose. “I didn’t want to push her, of course.”

Of course. Fine to tackle
me
in the hallway and try to get me to betray Juliana’s confidence, but God forbid she ask the girl a simple question herself.

I tried to answer her without saying too much. “There’s been some miscommunication, but I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

“Is it because I suspended his sister? She forced my hand, you know.”

“I know, Mom. And so does Juliana. It’s not your fault.”

“First you and Derek, and now Juliana and Chase,” she said, shaking her head. “Everything started off so well.”

“Oh, please,” I said. “There was never anything with me and Derek. He was only ever Chase’s friend.”

“Well, now he’s not even that,” she said miserably.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure they’re still friends.”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” she snapped. She dropped my arm and turned away. “I need a glass of wine. See what you girls do to me?”

“I’m sorry?” I said feebly.

Back in our room, I asked Jules if she’d gotten any more texts, and she shook her head and said calmly, “I blocked his number.” Then she changed the subject.