You First (6 page)

As they boarded the bus after school on Friday, Gigi impulsively asked Finn if she wanted to come over. “I mean, I know we're hanging out tomorrow after your soccer thing,” she said, “but I was thinking about trying out a new cupcake recipe. And since you can't come to class . . .”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “I know. And dude, I'd love to, but . . .”

“But what?”

“Lauren asked me if I wanted to go to the mall. Her mom is driving us, but maybe you could meet us over there?”

Gigi didn't want to admit it, even to herself, but the fact that Finn had made plans with Lauren stung—
hard
. She knew she was being ridiculous. It wasn't as if Finn was
only
making plans with Lauren. And there had been plenty of times when Finn and Katie or Finn and Maggie had gone off and done something, just the two of them. Gigi didn't feel the teensiest bit jealous of them then. So why now? What was so different about Lauren Avila?

Everything
is different about Lauren Avila!
that awful voice in Gigi's head piped up.
Forget for a minute that she's in eighth grade and a star on the varsity soccer team. Lauren Avila is also effortlessly pretty.
And everyone likes her!

It was true. Lauren was tall, with long, lean legs and clear skin the color of honey. Her shiny hair dipped well past her shoulders and had the kind of bounce to it that Gigi thought existed only in shampoo commercials. She glowed without the help of any makeup, and her affection for argyle sweaters—which, by the way, looked fantastic on her—had spawned a copycat trend among the girls of Sterling Middle School earlier that year.

Becoming friends with pretty, popular Lauren Avila was going to change Finley, Gigi felt certain. Hadn't it changed her already?

Or maybe it was changing how Finn
saw
Gigi.

“Thanks for the invite,” Gigi said, “but I'm not really feeling the mall.”

Finn snorted. “Since when does Gigi Prince
ever
turn down a trip to the mall?”

“I don't know,” Gigi said. “Maybe I don't feel like crashing.”

“It's not crashing if I invite you, dude. Just think about, okay? We're not leaving until six.”

Gigi came home to an empty house and a note from her mother saying that she had had to cover for another volunteer at Dress for Success and probably wouldn't be home until seven o'clock. So Gigi couldn't have gotten a ride to the mall even if she did change her mind about going. Which she hadn't.

But if she did . . .

It might not be a bad idea to hang out with Finn and Lauren together. A trip to the mall would give Gigi a prime opportunity to get to know Lauren. It was not out of the question that she might like her as much as Finn did.

And hey, it couldn't hurt if Lauren saw how
close
Eff and Gee were—that Finley already had a best friend and didn't need any applications for a new one.

She called Finn and asked her if she could catch a ride with her and Lauren.

Finn hesitated, then said, “I don't know, Gee. It might be kind of weird.”

“Weird? Weird how?”

“Well, Mrs. Avila doesn't know you, and you don't even really know Lauren yet, so . . .”

“Okay,” Gigi said. “How about this? You tell Lauren to meet us at the mall, and we can get your mom to drive. Then Lauren's mom can just take us all home.”

Gigi was pleased with herself for coming up with such a perfect solution. Finn, however, was not as impressed.

“It's just that . . . if we do it your way, then it pretty much changes the plans I made with Lauren,” Finn said carefully. “Plus, my mom wasn't thinking she had to drive anywhere tonight, and my dad's working a double, so she'd have to take Logan with us too.”

Gigi let out an exasperated sigh. “What if I just walk over to your house? Or do you think that would be weird too?”

“Dude,” Finley said. “You sound like you're mad at me or something.”

“I'm not,” Gigi replied . . . though if she were honest, she
was
a little annoyed by Finn's resistance. “Look, you're the one who said I should think about coming. If I can't get a ride with you, I can't come.”

“Hold on,” Finn said. She must've muted the phone, because Gigi didn't hear anything for the next minute or so. When she clicked back on, she said, “Okay. Mom
said you can come here. Only she said you have to call your mom first, to get permission, and then you have to make sure you're at my place by four thirty, because she doesn't want you walking over in the dark.”

Gigi wasn't sure why Ms. Marian didn't just come get her, but she didn't say that to Finn. Instead she said, “Okay. See you in a bit.”

Next, she tried calling her mom, but her cell phone went straight to voice mail. So did the line at Dress for Success. Frustrated, Gigi headed up to her room to pick out an outfit for the evening.

It had grown progressively cooler over the week, but the mall was notoriously overheated during the fall and winter. Layers were likely Gigi's best bet. She rummaged around in her dresser until she located a lime-green-and-navy argyle sweater vest she hadn't worn in a while. It was a teensy bit short, but she figured she could layer it up with a longer button-down underneath and go for a retro vibe. Navy leggings and a cropped jean jacket would complete the look.

Gigi tried her mother again but kept getting voice mail. A quick look at the clock revealed that she only had about fifteen minutes before she had to leave for Finn's. How could she get her mother's permission if her mother refused to answer a phone?

The minutes ticked away. Gigi spritzed her curls with a little water to help them plump back up, then changed into her mall outfit. She grabbed twenty dollars from the hamburger-shaped bank in her room, tucked the bills into her wristlet, pulled on her Sperrys, and headed back downstairs.

It was four ten; in five minutes, she was going to have to leave. She made one more attempt to reach her mom, and when she got her voice mail for the twelfth time, she decided to leave a message: “Hey, it's me, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to the mall with Finn. Love you! Bye.”

When she got to Finn's house, Ms. Marian answered the door. “Hey, cutie,” she said. “Come on in. Just watch your step.”

Gigi's eyes widened as she took in the front hall. Nearly every inch of the floor was covered with stuff: stacks of books, piles upon piles of clothes, mountains of sports equipment, and tons of Logan's old toys. No wonder Ms. Marian couldn't come get her. Their house was a mess, and it looked like Ms. Marian was working hard to tame it.

“Don't mind all this,” Ms. Marian said. “Just getting ready for tomorrow's wee-cycle sale.”

“Tomorrow's
what
?”

“Wee-cycle sale,” Ms. Marian repeated. “It's like a flea market for moms, with all kinds of gently used kid stuff.”

“Oh,” Gigi said. “That's, uh, cool. Is Finn in her room?”

“Go right on up.”

The door to Finn's bedroom was closed, so Gigi knocked. No answer. Gigi knocked again. Still no answer. Gigi tried one more time.

“WHAT?” Finn hollered, flinging the door open. “Oh, it's you. Sorry. Logan hasn't stopped bothering me all afternoon. Um, what are you
wearing
?”

Gigi smoothed the front of her sweater vest and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Finn said. “Never mind.”

Gigi could feel her face heat up. “I'm making a fashion statement?”

“You're making something. Hey, let's go grab some snackage.”

The floor of the kitchen was almost as full as that of the entryway. Gigi nearly tripped into a tub of action figures but steadied herself against the fridge. “So,” she said, when she'd found her footing, “you think my outfit looks bad?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Your face kind of did.”

Finn shrugged. “You look fine,” she said. “You just don't look like
you
. That's all.”

Gigi's immediate instinct was to shoot back, “Well, you aren't acting like you, so I guess this makes us even.” But instead she held her tongue.

“Salty, sweet, or chewy?” Finn asked.

“How about all three?”

“Gorp it is!” Finn said, grinning. She pulled down a large mixing bowl, and the girls started filling it with little bits of everything: good ol' raisins and peanuts, of course, but also M&Ms, mini marshmallows, pretzel nuggets, Goldfish crackers, and a generous shake of Cap'n Crunch. The crazy snack mix was a holdover from their days as Girl Scouts, and a tradition they maintained long after they hung up their Brownie vests.

Finn grabbed the bowl, and the girls headed into the den.

“So what's at the mall?” Gigi asked.

“Stores,” Finn replied. “A fast-food court. Aggressive salespeople trying to convince you that their Dead Sea skin-care products will get rid of your acne.”

Gigi cocked her head to one side. “I know that, silly. What's the
reason
we're going?”

“You've never needed a reason before.”

“
I
don't,” Gigi said. “But
you
hate going to the mall without a specific mission in mind.”

Now it was Finn's face that was starting to redden. “I don't have a mission. I just . . . Lauren asked me to go, and I said yes.”

“She's probably on the prowl for more argyle,” Gigi muttered without thinking about it.

“A-ha!” Finn said, pointing at Gigi. “I knew that's why you wore that vest. I don't get it, Gee. You act like you hate Lauren, but clearly you want her to like you. Why is that?”

“Because
you
like her!” Gigi cried. “She's your friend, and you're my best friend, and I guess if I want to keep spending time with my best friend, I need to find a way to be friends with her other. Best. Friend.”

“OH MY GOD,” Finn said. “She is not my best friend. She is just a
new friend
. Dude, why does that make you so crazy? Am I not supposed to be friends with anybody
but
you?”

“No,” Gigi said. “Obviously, no.”

“Well, then stop acting like that's the case! It's starting to get really annoying.”

Annoying.
The word hung out there like a big ugly cloud over both of their heads. Gigi didn't know how to respond, and if Finn's sudden silence was any indication, she didn't either.

Finn flicked on the television and flipped through the channels until she came upon a SpongeBob episode. Gigi had long loved the cartoon, but Finn wasn't as big a fan. When she left the TV on the show, Gigi figured it was a peace offering of sorts.

They sat and watched, not saying another word. The bowl of gorp sat between them and remained untouched.

Lauren Avila's mother looked nothing like her daughter. She was short, for one thing, and what her Mom-Mom referred to as “pleasingly plump.” Her hair was quite a few shades darker than Lauren's, with strands of silver spider webbing through it, and she smelled like cinnamon.

Add to that her tinkly laugh, and Gigi couldn't help but love her.

If only she could say the same about her offspring.

To be honest, it wasn't even Lauren's fault. She was nice enough to Gigi—polite, asked her questions, and even complimented the now-contentious sweater vest. Finn, on the other hand, did her absolute best to make Gigi feel one hundred percent excluded. Everything she said to Lauren sounded like a foreign language to
Gigi; every conversation was one long in-joke. After a while, Gigi tuned out entirely.

Because it was Friday night, the mall's teen curfew hours were in effect, which meant that the girls weren't allowed to be there without parental supervision. This was fine when they stopped for dinner at Noodles & Company, but once in the mall itself, their little foursome divided into two pairs: Lauren and Finn walking ahead, with Gigi and Mrs. Avila bringing up the rear.

“Do you play soccer as well?” Mrs. Avila asked Gigi.

She nodded. “But I'm not nearly as good as those two.”

Mrs. Avila cocked her head to one side. “Is it a competition?”

“Aren't all sports?” Gigi said. “Like, by definition?”

“Maybe,” Mrs. Avila said. “Though I believe it's far better to compete with yourself than to compare yourself to someone else. After all, no one can do a better job of being you than you.”

Gigi thought Mrs. Avila sounded a lot like Yoda, only without the weird sentence structure.

This night was not turning out as Gigi had hoped. She'd wanted to demonstrate to Lauren the rock-solid bond that Eff and Gee shared. Instead, Finn's antics ended up proving the exact opposite.

She'd have been completely miserable without Mrs. Avila, who kept up a steady stream of pleasant conversation as they walked. Between her and the Purl Jammers, Gigi was starting to wonder why it was that only old people seemed to enjoy her company these days.

The minutes ticked by, slow and painful. Gigi regretted her decision to go to the mall. She could've been at home, eating leftovers and trying out new cupcake recipes before tomorrow's cooking class. She could've been figuring out what to tackle next on her list of potential hobbies to pursue. She could've been sitting in the dark, doing nothing and saying nothing, and still probably would have been happier than she was watching Lauren and Finley become BFFs right before her eyes.

Just after eight, Mrs. Avila's cell phone rang. She answered it smiling, but her face grew concerned almost immediately. Then she handed the phone to Gigi.

“It's your mother,” she said. “She wants to talk to you.”

Gigi's breath caught in her throat.
Daddy,
she thought.

“Mama?” she said. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it most certainly is
not
. Gillian Gemma Prince, how dare you!
Leaving this house without my permission, with people I have never even met? You get your butt home right this minute, you hear me? Now give the phone back to Mrs. Avila. Please.”