Home Sweet Drama (8 page)

A SURPRISE … FOR PAIGE

YAWNING, I DRAGGED MYSELF OUT OF BED on Tuesday morning and Paige bounded up to me.

“Hi!” she said, her voice way too high for this time in the morning. She looked as if she'd been up for hours.

I rubbed my eyes. “Did you have chocolate-covered espresso beans or something?”

Paige shook her head. “Nope! I just have a surprise for you.”

That made me wake up a little more. “Ooh, a surprise. Tell me!”

Paige turned toward her clothes and looked back over her shoulder at me. “I have to show you. Close your eyes.”

I sat at the end of my bed and closed them. I heard Paige shuffle through her closet, then there was silence.

“All right,” she said. “Open!”

I did and Paige stood in front of me, beaming, and holding out two outfits on purple hangers.

“I'm going to be a chef and you're my sous chef!” Paige said, grinning. “Isn't that awesome? The white one's mine and yours is the black.”

Paige's outfit had a jacket, chef's hat, and pants. Mine had a jacket, pants, and an apron. I chewed on my lower lip and tried to think of what to say. Paige had gotten the outfits and she was so excited. Plus, it was a fab idea since idea since she hosted
Teen Cuisine
, a cooking show on The Food Network for Kids.

“What's wrong?” she asked. She hung the clothes on her closet doorknob. “If you don't like it, we can totally do something else. I should have asked you what you wanted to do, but I thought this would be a fun surprise.”

“It is,” I said. “The outfits are so perfect. But …” I got off my bed and walked to my own closet.

“But what?” Paige asked.

“I went over to the Trio's when you were out with Ryan. Heather asked me to come over and said she had something for me.”

I reached into my closet and pulled out the clothes and boots from Heather.

Paige tilted her head. “Heather's letting you borrow those clothes? Wow—aren't those boots you'd wear to a big show?”

“Yeah, they are. But she didn't give me the clothes for a show. She gave me clothes for … today.”

“Today?” Paige repeated.

“The Trio asked me to dress up with them last night. If I'd known you'd already had an outfit planned, I never would have said yes.”

“I was going to tell you, but I thought it would be a better surprise,” Paige said. “I didn't think anyone else would ask you to dress up with them.”

For a second, that sort of stung. She made it sound as if I didn't have other friends. But I knew Paige hadn't meant it that way. And she had every right to think that, anyway—I
had
no other friends—definitely not the Trio.

“It doesn't matter what I told the Trio,” I said. “I'll text Heather and tell her I'm dressing up with you instead. I'd rather match with you anyway.”

I put the clothes on my bed and reached for my phone.

“Don't,” Paige said. “You already told them yes. I should have told you earlier. I'll text one of my other friends or I'll just dress up by myself. No big deal.”

But it was a big deal to Paige. I could see it through her forced smile.

“You sure?” I asked. “I'm serious. I can tell them no.”

“Totally sure,” Paige said. “Go with the Trio.”

She walked away from me and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I picked up my phone and started a new text. The right thing to do was to dress up with Paige—my best friend. Not the Trio.

Sry, but I'm dressing up w/Paige.

I went to press send, but my finger hovered over the button. I hit cancel instead and snapped my phone shut. The Trio was going to be a Quartet today.

Paige and I didn't say much to each other as we got ready and left for class. We stayed out of each other's way, easing past each other to go back and forth from the bedroom to the bathroom as we hurried to get dressed and do our hair and makeup. It was the first time Paige and I had split on an activity we'd usually do together.

“You look great,” I said.

“You too,” Paige said. She gave me a half smile and we left our room for the cafeteria. We got inside and started for the breakfast line.

“I'm thinking waffles,” I said. “You?”

“Hmm. Maybe pancakes,” Paige said. “Or—” She stopped and I looked at her.

“What?”

Paige jerked her head in the direction of the tables. “Nothing. Just looks like someone wants you to sit with them.”

I glanced over and Alison waved at me, motioning for me to come over.

I waved back and turned to Paige. “It's fine. I'll still sit with you. We can talk—we never have time any-more.”

Paige reached the stack of trays and grabbed one. “Actually, I can't talk right now. Geena and I have to go over verrry last-minute details for the dance. It's totally cool if you sit with them.”

“Oh,” I said, taking my own tray. “Okay.”

Homecoming. Again.

Paige and I got our breakfasts and separated.

“Sasha!” Alison said. She hopped out of her chair to stand by me. “Omigod, we look awesome!” Alison waved her hands up and down, motioning at her own outfit. She'd dressed in black breeches with suede knees, a white show shirt, and a navy jacket.

“We totally do,” I said, smiling. But it faded quickly when I thought about Paige.

“What's wrong with you so early?” Heather asked, squinting at me.

“Homecoming,” I grumbled. “At least I can sit here and not have to listen to Paige and Geena debate if the plates should be green and gold, green, or just gold.”

Alison shook her head. “Sasha, Sasha. That's a VIP decision. We're going to remember that night for the rest of our lives and if the plates are wrong …”

My eyes met Heather's and we shared a semitortured look.

“If anyone even
thinks
the word ‘Homecoming' during breakfast,” Heather said. “You're eating alone.”

I grinned and poured maple syrup onto my waffle, certain I wouldn't hear a mention of Homecoming for the next half hour.

After breakfast I met up with Paige in the hallway on our way to class. We exchanged smiles, but that was it. We walked to Mr. Davidson's English class together, but the walk, which usually felt short because we chatted the entire way, seemed to take forever. Our silence felt even more noticeable because everyone around us was
energized about Homecoming. It looked as though every student had taken advantage of crazy dress day—it was like Halloween. I couldn't help but stare when Rachel and her friends walked by in striped knee socks and shorts. I wondered if Eric knew that she was dressing up. I almost stopped walking as I envisioned Eric seeing Rachel's outfit and telling her how great it was and how much he liked it. I wanted that attention, too, but … from Jacob.

“Look at that,” Paige said, jolting me out of my thoughts.

A guy with mismatched shoes headed up the steps to the science building.

Paige and I entered the English building and walked into Mr. Davidson's classroom.

“Hey,” Alison said to Paige and me, walking over. She waved at both of us. “Aren't these outfits great?”

“They're fab,” Paige said, stepping around us and taking her seat.

I sat next to Paige. That your-outfits-are-so-fab line was just that—a line.

“I
love
your outfit, too, Paige,” Alison said. “It's genius because of the whole
Teen Cuisine
thing.”

“Thanks,” Paige said. Her tone was clipped and she didn't even look up at Alison. She leaned down and pulled her book and notebook out of her bag.

“We'll have to get a pic of you in your outfit,” I said. “Maybe the show will want to share it with viewers.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Paige said. She looked away from me and it was clear she wasn't going to say anything else.

Ugh. I couldn't have her be mad at me too. It was too much on top of everything else that was going on. I tried to think of something to say that would make Paige feel better.

“So, for lunch,” I said. “I was thinking we could grab our food and eat it outside because it's so nice. Want to?”

Paige looked over at me. “That sounds fun. I'd like that.” She smiled, this time for real. It had been a while since we'd had lunch together. I'd been sitting with the Trio a lot and Paige had been with her friends. I settled back into my chair and breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn't lose the last real friend I had.

When I finally met Paige for lunch, she was back to her bubbly self. We loaded our trays with spaghetti, salad, and breadsticks. We filled cups with soda and carried our trays to a bench just outside the caf.

“Omigod,” Paige said. “I can't believe it's already Tuesday! That means tomorrow's Wednesday.” Paige pouted.

“What's wrong with Wednesday?” I asked. I swirled my fork in my spaghetti, then put it down. I stuck a napkin in my collar, knowing I looked like a giant dork. But that was better than getting spaghetti sauce on Heather's shirt and facing certain death.

“Sasha!” Paige turned to face me and almost knocked her tray off her lap. “Because! It's the middle of the week and that means Homecoming is half over!”

Paige's tone rose with every word—it was like she was spewing exclamation points.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, trying to sound sorry. “That.”

“I just can't wait for Green-and-Gold Day on Thursday, and then Friday's the dance. I'm going to be going
crazy
on Thursday. I want to deep condition my hair, do my nails …”

I had to tune out Paige's chatter about Homecoming. Instead, I thought about riding and concentrated on not spilling anything on Heather's clothes. For the rest of lunch, I just nodded and pretended to listen.

After my last class of the day, I walked down the hallway of the math building. I was sooo ready for my riding lesson. I half-wanted to skip changing into my riding clothes, but I knew Heather would kill me if I rode in
hers. I was almost to the door when I saw Callie and Jacob walking in front of me.

Callie reached over to touch his upper arm and he moved a step away from her to shift his backpack from one shoulder to the other. He kept the distance between himself and Callie. She glanced down at her feet and stayed just behind him as they walked to the door. He pushed open the door and let her walk in front of him.

That was weird.

Why was Jacob being strange around her? He'd promised he'd never spill our secret about what had really happened between us, and I believed him, but what I'd just seen made me worry.
It's probably nothing,
I told myself. I had to believe that or I'd make myself crazy.

10

THE LAST PERSON I WANT TO TALK TO

I RUSHED THROUGH GETTING DRESSED AND hurried to the stable, determined to spend as much time there as possible. I needed some serious Charm time and I was going to give him an extra-special grooming.

“Hi, guy,” I said to Charm as I walked toward him. He had his head stuck over the stall door and his big brown eyes watched me approach.

I kissed his cheek and reached into my back pocket. “I
might
have brought you something from the common room kitchen,” I said. “Something you might want.”

I had Charm's full attention. He stretched his neck over the stall door, watching me reach into my back pocket.

I pulled out half a carrot and held it up, grinning at him. “Does this interest you?”

Charm bobbed his head and strained to reach the carrot.

“Aw, here, boy.”

I flattened my hand and put the carrot on my palm. I held it out to Charm and he almost inhaled it. While he chomped on it, I took out his tack box from the trunk outside his stall and took his lead line off the hook.

I went into his stall and clipped the lead line under his chin. We walked out into the aisle together and I found a free pair of crossties.

“Let's make you sparkly and shiny,” I said.