Truth or Dare (14 page)

Marley stuffed her hands into the front pocket of her sweatshirt. “Not really. What's so great about getting a period?”

“It's not only about that. It's about—” What was it about, really? I stared down the street. “Not being left behind.”

As soon as I said these words, my throat felt as if I'd swallowed something hard, like sea glass. That was it: I felt stranded. Like I was on a beach by myself, watching everybody swim away. Mom, Abi, Jules, Mak—

Marley frowned. “You think Abi and Jules and Mak are more mature than you? Just because they bleed once a month?”

“No,” I admitted. “But it just feels like they're doing all this stuff, I don't know,
moving forward
without us. Doesn't it feel that way to you?”

“If it does, I don't care. Maybe I never wanted to be included with them in the first place.”

I didn't know what to say to that. All this time I'd felt as if I were Marley's one true ally, the only one who was keeping her in the group, and she didn't even
want
to be included? “So can I ask you something? Why did you hang out with those guys if you hated it so much?”

“Because
you
were there, Lia. And we were friends.”

“Were?”

She sighed. “Lia, I honestly don't know if I want to be
friends with you anymore. Not just because you lied so much. Because you do whatever Abi says.”

Of everything she'd accused me of, this seemed the most unfair. “But that's not true! I challenge her all the time. I always stick up for you—”

“Yeah, thanks. I stick up for you too. And now we both don't have to anymore.”

Some eighth-grade boys skateboarded past us. They looked like they were having good dumb fun, the way boys could.

Marley watched them, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I don't know, Lia—since the summer, it's like you've changed.”

“Me? How can you say that, Marley? Except for you, I'm the only one of us who
hasn't
changed. That's
why
I lied!”

She shrugged. “Listen, I have a tutor coming, and my mom will kill me if I'm late, so . . .”

She reached into her jeans pocket. Then she held out a closed fist, as if she wanted me to guess what was in her hand.

“What is that?” I asked nervously.

“Just take them, okay?”

Her fist opened. But I didn't even have to look to know what they were.

The pieces of sea glass I'd given her at the end of the summer: green, ice blue, and white.

ON TUESDAY MORNING MARLEY SPENT all of homeroom sketching in her sketchbook. I didn't try to talk to her, because the truth was, I couldn't face her. She'd seen right through me all this time and she hadn't said a word about it—not to the other girls and not to me. Even though I didn't deserve it, I knew she'd been protecting me, or trying to. Until I guess she couldn't do it anymore, starting when Abi made her answer that dumb body-switching question.

But now I was worried about Marley. If she quit our
group, who were her friends? Where was she going to sit at lunch? Who would she hang out with after school and on weekends? Who would she send her turtle drawings to? She didn't have other friends in our grade, at least none I could name. It didn't seem fair that she should lose her whole social life over my stupid, selfish behavior. Even if she said she didn't want to be included, how could that possibly be true?

But that wasn't the only worry of the day. In PE I'd decided to change my clothes in front of my locker, because I knew if I hid in the bathroom again, Abi would drag me to her dermatologist after school. I slipped into my yoga pants, and just as I was changing into a dumb tee Aunt Shelby gave me (H
ONK IF
Y
OU'RE A
M
AINE-IAC
), Abi came running over.

“Omigod,” she said. “Jules had an accident!”

The word “accident” was not my favorite in the dictionary. My heart zoomed. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“No, no, not
that
kind of accident. A period accident.” Abi's eyes were wide. “She wasn't expecting it today. And her pants are light blue.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. She can't leave the bathroom like that, and she's too tiny to borrow Mak's gym pants or mine. So she needs yours, okay?”

“Sure. I'll keep on my yoga pants; she can have my jeans.”

“And a pad?”

“What?”

“You know . . . a
pad
. Mak only has tampons for the pool, and Jules won't use them. You keep some extra pads in your locker, right?”

Um.

“Let me look,” I said, rummaging through my messy locker. “Oh no. Sorry. I must have run out.”

“Really? That's weird,” Abi said.

What did she mean by that? Could she tell I was lying?

“Can't she borrow one of yours?” I asked, beginning to sweat.

“Nah, my period was last week; I didn't bring any new pads.”

“Last week?”

“Huh?”

“Your period. I thought you said you got it over the weekend.”

Abi's eyes flashed. “Are you serious, Lia? The weekend
is
last week; Monday is the start of the school week, right? And why are you arguing over something so ridiculous while Jules is in the bathroom freaking out?”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Just give me the jeans, okay? I'll ask someone else.”

“Try the gym office. Or the nurse,” I suggested helpfully.

“Lia, I
know,
” she growled.

♥  ♥  ♥

By lunch, everything was back to normal. Except for the following:

1. Marley wasn't at our table. As far as I could tell, she wasn't even in the lunchroom.

2. Jules was wearing my jeans, which meant I was stuck in my sweaty yoga pants.

3. Abi
may
have figured out I'd been lying about my period.

4. Although she
may
have been lying about her own period. At least, that was a possibility, considering the way she'd lost track of the calendar.

5. She
may
have suspected that I suspected she was lying. And if she did, she was probably furious. Even
if
she'd been telling the truth.

Which explained the weird mood at the table as I sat down with my veggie pizza. Nobody was talking: Mak was reading her phone, Jules was nibbling chocolate chips off her cookie, and Abi was watching me with this twisted little smirk on her face.

Finally she said, “Hey, don't eat too much of that pizza, Lia. It has garlic.”

“What's wrong with garlic?” I asked.

“Makes your breath stink. Then Graydon won't want to kiss you.”

“Haha, really funny,” I said. “And he definitely doesn't want to kiss me anyway.”

“Sure he does,” Mak said, suddenly looking up from her phone. “Come on, Lia. Everyone knows you guys have a giganto crush on each other.”

“Excuse me,
what
?”

“It's not a secret, okay? He's always staring at you. And you're always turning all these crazy colors. Like right now.”

There was no point denying the crazy-color part; I could tell my cheeks were blazing hot. And what was the point of denying the rest of it? I mean, if it was that obvious.

“Although, actually, I think he hates me,” I said. “Or at the very least, he's been kind of avoiding me lately.”

“Really? Why?” Jules asked sympathetically.

“I don't know. I tried to explain why Marley gave him that poem. It just came out wrong, I guess.” I took another bite of pizza and thought about Marley, how much she'd put up with just to be my friend. “Can I ask you something, Abi? How come you dared Marley to give Graydon that poem? And then to kiss him?”

Abi laughed. “Because we knew she wouldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Because
you
like him, doofus. But, of course,
you
wouldn't kiss him, either.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Lia.”

“Come on what?” I looked at Mak and Jules, but they were both watching Abi and me, like we were playing a ping-pong match. Her turn, my turn. “Come on
what
?” I repeated.

“Lia,” Abi said. “You wouldn't kiss Graydon because you never kissed Tanner. You've never kissed
any
boy, right?”

“What? Where did you get that?”

“Oh, then you're saying it's true? You
did
kiss Tanner?”

“Abi, I told you—”

“Then prove it. Kiss Graydon.”

“Are you joking? What does kissing Tanner have to do with—”

“Okay, fine, Lia. Then don't.” Abi's voice was as sharp as a pair of scissors.

I was so mad I almost laughed.

And I knew I could get up from that table and storm off with my pizza. I didn't have to answer to Abi or take her obnoxious dare! Because that's what it was, a dare, even if we weren't playing the Truth or Dare game anymore.

But right away I thought this: If I stormed off the way
Marley had, I wouldn't be leaving all my friends behind—it would be more like
they
were leaving
me.
And then I'd be stranded on the beach without even Marley, just myself and a bunch of reject sea glass.

Also, I couldn't help noticing how Jules and Mak were eyeing me, like they were reading a book and wondering what would happen next. Like I was probably just Poor Nice Left-Behind Lia. But what if I wasn't? What if I could surprise people—especially my friends?
What if everything about me was true?

“All right,” I said. “I'll do it.”

Abi smiled in a way that made my insides twitch. “I guess we'll have to see,” she said.

THE QUESTION WAS WHERE TO do the kiss. It had to be private enough for Graydon to feel as if his buddies wouldn't suddenly appear, but public enough for my friends to witness. I told myself that if I could just think of the perfect place at the perfect time, Graydon would probably let me kiss him. After all, he let me borrow his homework, and he'd asked me to dance that one time. He had to like me; if he didn't, he wouldn't have felt so bad about my role in the love poem prank.

As the afternoon passed, though, I was running out
of chances. I couldn't kiss him in math, because he sat at the Nerd Desk, in the front of the classroom. (I'd chosen a desk in the back, so I wouldn't be distracted too much by Mrs. Crawley's nose job.) In science he shared a lab station with Ben and Jake, and there was no way I'd do it in front of them. In English we had an in-class essay about
Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,
a book I liked, even though everyone else called it boring. And because I wanted to do a good job on the essay, I stayed in my seat an extra five minutes at the end of class, which meant I didn't see Graydon at his lockers at dismissal.

But I did catch up with him just before he got on the school bus.

“Graydon!” I called a few decibels too loudly.

He cringed. “Yeah?”

“Can I please talk to you? For a second?”

“Sure. What's up?”

This would have been the perfect opportunity to kiss him. Except none of my friends were there to witness it, so it wouldn't count.

“Graydon, I was wondering: Would you possibly like to go the diner? For a milk shake, maybe?”

“With you?” He squinted. Or maybe scowled.

I nodded.

“I dunno,” he said. “I have a tutoring appointment.”

“
You
get tutored?”

“No. I tutor Marley. In math. You didn't know?”

I shook my head.

“It isn't teaching her stuff; it's more like practicing. She's smart, but she needs to drill. And her mom pays ridiculously well.”

I wondered if this was the “expensive tutor” Marley was always talking about.