The Best Friend (11 page)

“A fake?”

“Yeah, she acts like she's everyone's best friend. How unreal is that?”

“Maybe she's naturally nice.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“You're just jaded, Riley. You think everyone is like you.”

“Excuse me for being a realist. I can see right through Amanda. She's a big fake.”

“You're wrong. Amanda is the real deal.” Lishia nodded her head. “She's authentic. I'm sure of it.”

“If Amanda's authentic, I'm a saint.”

“Well, you're definitely not a saint.” Lishia pressed her lips together, controlling herself from saying what she really thought about Riley and sainthood.

“I can't believe you would fall for her little act, Lishia. Seriously, Amanda is the biggest phony of all.”

“Why do you say that?” Lishia felt indignant.

“Because she pretends to like everyone. No one can possibly like
everyone
.”

“Why would she pretend? What would be the point?”

“Because her life is a perennial popularity contest.”

“A what?” Lishia blinked.

“A perennial popularity contest. She's like that girl on
The Bachelor
, the one who befriends every single girl there and just wants to be liked, or else she's the beauty contestant who wants to win Miss Congeniality. But do you know what those girls get for their hard work?”

“What?”

“Nothing. They lose the bachelor . . . and lose the beauty pageant. Those goody-two-shoes end up with nothing but a bunch of phony-baloney friends who don't honestly care whether they live or die.”

“That's pretty harsh.”

“That's life. Like I said, I'm a realist.”

Lishia wanted to tell Riley that she was seriously twisted, but she didn't want to start a big fight, especially when she was nearly home and looking forward to escaping her BFF—beast friend forever! “Thanks for the ride.” She forced some sweetness into her voice. “Tonight was fun!”

“Ugh, now you're even starting to sound like Amanda.”

“Sorry.” Lishia smiled, thinking that maybe this would be a way to lose this binding relationship with Riley. Act like Amanda, and Riley would probably drop her like a bad case of acne.

“There's a party at Vanessa's tomorrow,” Riley told her. “I want you to go with me.”

“Why don't you go with Dayton?” Lishia suggested.

“Because I want to go with you.”

“But aren't you and Dayton going out—”

“I don't want Dayton to start thinking he owns me again, Lishia. Don't you get it? The way you keep a guy is to keep him guessing.” She shook her head like Lishia was a complete idiot. “You have so much to learn.”

“Clearly.” Lishia waved politely and closed the door. But as she walked to the house, she imagined all that she would like to say to Riley. Not that Riley was ever likely to listen.

A
s irritating as Riley could be, she could also turn on the charm when she wanted to. Maybe she was sorry for being so rude recently, or maybe she was just trying to get her way, but Lishia could tell Riley was trying to be nice when she called on Saturday afternoon.

“Please, come with me,” Riley begged. “Macy's is having a huge sale, and you're so much fun to shop with. And you have such good taste.”

Lishia had to laugh at that. “Well, even if I actually had good taste, the problem is, I'm broke.”

“That doesn't matter. You can still help me shop, can't you? And I'll treat you to lunch. Come on, it'll be fun. Remember the time we went shopping and got your hair done—and how much fun we had that day?”

Lishia wasn't sure if Riley wanted to remind her of the “fun” they'd had or of the fact that she still owed Riley for the blonde in her hair—another form of Riley's blackmail. “Okay,” she reluctantly agreed, “I'll go with you.”

“Yay! I'll pick you up in a few minutes.”

Lishia had mixed feelings as she got ready to go. On one hand, Riley could be fun sometimes, and she could be pretty generous . . . on the other hand, she could also be a royal pain. And more and more, Lishia felt she had absolutely no control over this relationship. It was like Riley had all the power and Lishia had no choice but to comply with her demands. Riley could say, “Jump,” and Lishia would ask, “How high?”

But since there seemed to be no way out of this twisted friendship, at least for now, perhaps the best thing to do was to try to keep Riley happy, even if it did make Lishia feel like a complete hypocrite. Maybe in time, Riley would get tired of her—especially if Lishia continued imitating Amanda.

“Where are you off to?” Dad asked as Lishia emerged from her room.

“Riley wants me to go shopping.” She shrugged. “But I don't have to—I mean if there's something you—”

“No, no, you should go and have some fun,” he told her. “You've worked so hard these past few weeks, learning all your cheerleading routines and stuff. You probably need a break.”

She nodded.

“Your mom just went for groceries, and I plan to turn on football and transform myself into a couch potato.” He grinned. “Hey, we were so proud of you last night, Lish. Your grandma went on and on about how you girls were so talented. And we were so impressed with how well you kept up with the team. No one would've guessed that you were the newcomer.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He reached in his back pocket. “And if you're going shopping, don't you need a little cash?” He winked. “Just don't tell your mom. She'll think I'm soft.” He handed her a twenty. “You probably can't get much with that, but at least they can't pick you up for vagrancy.”

She smiled as she tucked the bill into her purse. “Thanks, Dad.” She knew their budget was tight—and paying for all her cheerleading stuff, although a bargain, had not been cheap.

Lishia had never been big into shopping. This was partially due to money—or a lack of it. But besides that, she thought it always seemed boring after a while. Really, how many pairs of jeans did one girl need? However, Riley seemed to think of shopping as a competitive sport—and she loved keeping up with the new trends. By the time Riley was ready to go, Lishia was exhausted.

“I really don't want to go to Vanessa's party,” she told Riley as they walked out to the car.

“You have to go!” Riley insisted.

“Why?”

“Because I refuse to go alone.”

“Go with Dayton.”

“I already told Dayton I was going with you and that I'd see him there. I can't change that now.” She popped open her trunk and tossed her bags in. “Don't be so flaky, Lishia.”

“What kind of party is it, anyway?” Lishia scowled as she got in the car. Like she didn't know what kind of party it was!

“It's a Christmas party.”

“Right, a Christmas party.” Lishia sighed. “So everyone will be celebrating the birth of Christ then?”

Riley laughed.

“I really should go to youth group tonight. In fact, I should make you go with me. We need some good influence in our lives.”

Now Riley laughed harder. “You are really cracking me up, Lishia.”

“I'm serious. I feel like I'm losing my faith.”

“Maybe you never had it to begin with.”

Lishia considered this. Maybe Riley was right. Whatever the case, Lishia felt like a really bad example of a Christian. She hadn't prayed or read her Bible in weeks. Her Christian friends never even talked to her anymore, except for Megan, who made occasional attempts to preach at her, warning her that she was going the wrong direction. Maybe Lishia really had lost her faith. Because really, how could she expect that God would want anything to do with her anymore? When she thought of all the things she'd compromised in herself . . . just to be Riley's friend . . . it made her feel sick inside.

“Back to the party,” Riley said. “I might want you to drive my car home. So why don't you spend the night at my house, okay?”

“So does that mean you'll be drinking?” Lishia felt a rush of anger.

“No, it means I might leave with Dayton. Or I might not.”

“Oh . . .” Lishia wished there was an easy way to get out of going tonight. But maybe Riley would leave early with Dayton and Lishia would be free to go too. And maybe it really was a Christmas party. “Do you think Amanda will be there tonight?” she asked hopefully.

“Are you still nurturing your girl-crush on stupid Amanda?”

“It's not a girl-crush and she's not stupid.”

“Well, I have no idea if Miss Perfect will be there or not. Do you want to call her and see if she'll make a date with you?”

“Funny.” Lishia folded her arms in front of her and glared out the window. Why did Riley have to be so mean? And why did Riley feel the need to act like she owned Lishia's soul? Maybe it was because Lishia had sold it to her.

“We have to dress up,” Riley said as they got out of the car.

“Why?”

“Because Vanessa said it was a Christmas party and she wants us to be festive and to dress up, but you can wear something of mine.”

“Why didn't Vanessa invite me to her Christmas party herself?”

“You mean you didn't get the engraved invitation with the RSVP?” Riley teased.

“No, as a matter of fact, I didn't.”

“These parties are always word-of-mouth, Lishia. Did you really not know that?” She handed one of her shopping bags to Lishia with a disappointed expression.

Lishia shrugged. “Anyway, I still need to call my mom. I told her I was going to the party, but I didn't know I was going to spend the night here. She might not want me to . . .” Okay, Lishia knew that was lame. Her mom would probably be glad to have her spend the night. She'd even complained about how Lishia had been spending too much time at home this fall, after her friendship with Janelle had disintegrated. In fact, Mom was delighted with Lishia's new “best friend”—much happier than Lishia was!

They spent a couple hours dressing and primping, and Lishia tried to convince herself that Vanessa's Christmas party might actually be fun. And maybe Amanda would be there. “So you don't think this party is going to be busted?” Lishia asked as they walked up to Vanessa's house, which was lit up with colorful Christmas lights. “Because I don't think I can run very fast in these heels.”

“You better not run in those shoes,” Riley warned her. “They're Marc Jacobs, the real deal.”

“And a little big too,” Lishia said as her heel slipped again. “I hope I don't trip and fall on my face.” She looked at the expensive cars lining the long driveway. “These don't look like high school kids' cars,” she said as they went to the front door.

“That's because it's Vanessa's parents' Christmas party,” Riley told her impatiently. “I thought you knew that.”

“No, I didn't know that. Why are we going to her parents' party?” Lishia stopped walking. “Isn't that a little weird?”

“No, Vanessa's parents are cool. They always let Vanessa invite her friends to their parties. It's their way of showing her off. The kids usually end up in the basement and the grown-ups stay upstairs, but the food is always good.”

Lishia felt slightly relieved now. Having Vanessa's parents around should calm things down a lot. Maybe this would actually be fun—certainly the police wouldn't be involved tonight.

However, Lishia was barely inside the house when she realized that Vanessa's parents were a lot different than Lishia's. For one thing, they seemed a lot younger than parents should be, but maybe that was because this was Vanessa's mom's second marriage and Vanessa's new stepdad was only ten years older than Vanessa—and both of them were dressed like teenagers! But that wasn't the worst of it—the really disturbing thing was that Vanessa's parents had no problem with underage drinking.

“All the kids in Europe drink with their families,” Vanessa's mom was telling a woman. “It teaches them to drink moderately.”

The woman nodded. “Yes, I'd rather my kids learn to be responsible now than after they go away to college.”

A jazz trio was playing in a corner of the great room, several couples were dancing, and it seemed the party was in full swing. But all Lishia could think was that she wanted to go home! Of course, Amanda was not there. She knew better than to get mixed up with something like this.

Lishia thought about the cheerleaders' conduct code and how many cheerleaders were breaking it tonight. What was the point of the code if no one, besides Amanda and Lishia, took it seriously? What would Mrs. Glassman say if she could see her girls now? Oh, sure, everyone was dressed nicely and using their “grown-up” manners, and instead of drinking from red plastic cups, they were sipping from sparkling glassware. Riley was being handed something in a martini glass, and she sipped it like she thought she was all that.

Lishia considered calling her parents, but then she'd have to explain all this. And what if Dad decided it was his parental responsibility to report the underage drinking? How would she ever live that down? No, she decided, she'd gotten herself into this situation, and she would need to get herself out of it.

Fortunately, Dayton showed up, and he and Riley paired up and even danced a few times. It seemed everyone—everyone but Lishia—was having a great time.

“Do you mind if I drive your car home now?” Lishia asked Riley after they'd been there for about an hour and the party was getting louder and crazier.

“No, you can't leave yet,” Riley told her. “My parents will still be up, and they'll want to know why I'm not with you.”

Lishia frowned. “So I'm stuck here?”

“Have a drink,” Dayton told her. “Relax a little.”

“I don't want to relax,” Lishia told him. “I want to go home.”

“Don't be such a party pooper,” Riley told her. Then she grabbed Dayton's hand. “Let's go dance again.”

Lishia watched as they went over to where Todd and Vanessa were already dancing. Despite herself, Lishia felt a stab of envy at seeing those two together. She knew she'd had her chance with Todd and she'd blown it. All because she didn't want to drink and be a party girl. He'd told her she was no fun. And here she was again—having no fun! It didn't seem fair.

She wandered into a quieter room. A small group of grown-ups was enjoying a lively political debate on one end of the room; meanwhile, a couple was snuggled into a love seat, whispering and giggling with their heads close together.

Taking a seat on a chair next to the tall Christmas tree by the window, she stared at the colorful lights and sighed. Her life used to be a lot more fun than this. She used to love Christmastime. She used to love lots of things—including God. Now it seemed like she didn't love anything—or anyone—not even herself. She felt empty and slightly dead inside. Everyone else in this house seemed to be having the time of their lives. And here she was feeling alone and depressed. What was wrong with her?

Oh, she knew what was wrong . . . she just didn't want to admit it. Not to herself, not to anyone. She'd managed to repress it all this time, and she'd probably have to repress it for the rest of her life. But the truth was, she had shoved God right out of her life, and now it felt like it was too late. She'd stepped over that line and there was no turning back. She felt hopeless and sad.

For the first time in her life, she thought she might understand why some people drank alcohol. It was probably to escape from something like this. And right now, more than ever, she wanted to escape too. So, she reasoned, perhaps one little drink wouldn't hurt. No one else seemed worried.

And maybe Vanessa's mom was right. Maybe it was time for Lishia to learn to drink responsibly, moderately, appropriately. Yes, she decided as she stood, it was high time for her to grow up!