Want to Go Private? Read online

  I play the I-fainted-yesterday sympathy card with Mom the next morning so she drives me to school, because I don’t want to have to sit with Faith on the bus. I know I’m going to have to see Faith sooner or later, but I would rather it be later, because I hate arguments, especially with her, even though I know I’ve got every right to be mad. Unfortunately, she catches up with me in gym while I’m puffing my way around the track practicing for the god-awful physical fitness test.

  “Abs, wait up,” Faith calls, jogging just behind me.

  If my legs and lungs would allow, I’d quite happily leave Faith in my dust, but if I’m not the world’s worst runner, then I’m pretty darned close. In kindergarten I came last in the potato sack and the egg-and-spoon races, and things have pretty much gone downhill for me on the athletic front ever since.

  When she finally jogs up alongside me, I stare straight ahead like I don’t see her.

  “Abby, I know you’re mad at me and … I’m sorry,” Faith pants. “The only reason I spoke to my dad was … because I was worried about you. It really freaked me out when you … fainted. You looked like you were … dead, lying there.”

  I stop jogging and stare at her. “But I … was … fine.” I gasp, trying to catch my breath. “You could see … I was perfectly okay … afterward. And you promised … you promised not to tell … anyone!”

  I start running again, as fast as I can, reinvigorated by a burst of anger. But I hear Faith’s footsteps pounding behind me.

  “Abs, I know … I promised … and I’m … sorry,” she pants as she comes up alongside me again. “I just wanted … to ask my dad … if you’d really … be okay … ’cause he’s a doctor … I didn’t know he’d call your mom … honest.”

  I slow down to my regular snail-paced jogging speed, my breath coming in heaves from the effort of sprinting. Faith’s face is flushed and sweat beads her forehead. Her eyes plead with me to forgive her, and it looks like she means what she says. But then Luke’s words come back me: Guess u can’t trust her anymore … People change. If it wasn’t for Faith nagging me to go to those stupid auditions, I wouldn’t have been there in the first place. And why had Faith been all over me to go? Because she has a new friend, Grace, and drama is Grace’s thing.

  “Whatever,” I pant.

  Faith gives me the “let’s hug and make up” look, but I’m not having any of it. Things have changed between us, and maybe I’ll forgive, but I’m not going to forget.

  We finish the lap and walk to the locker room together.

  “They’re posting the audition results later,” Faith says. “I’m really nervous.”

  “Well, I’m pretty confident I didn’t get a part — unless they were casting a dead body.”

  Faith giggles, assuming that everything is back to normal between us.

  “Well, I hope you’ll be on stage crew or makeup or something. You’ve got to be involved in the play somehow, even if you aren’t acting.”

  I don’t say anything, because I’m not up for one of Faith’s full-frontal persuasion barrages. Maybe if I’m lucky, Faith won’t get a part and then she’ll give up on this whole drama business. But then I feel guilty for wishing that, because it’s obvious Faith really wants to be in the play, and even though I’m still mad at her, I can’t find it in me to want her to be crushed.

  “Gracie and I are meeting right after school to go look at the casting results together. You wanna come?”

  I’d rather jam forks in my eyes.

  “Uh, sorry, I can’t. I have a project I have to work on tonight.”

  “Already? Wow. That sucks!”

  “Yeah. I really lucked out, didn’t I?”

  “Well, keep your fingers and toes crossed for me,” Faith says as we go our separate ways. “I’ll call you tonight to let you know what happened.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Well, good luck.”

  “Don’t say good luck! It’s bad luck to say good luck in the theater! You’re supposed to say ‘break a leg.’”

  “O-kaaaaay. Well, break a limb or an extremity or whatever.”

  Faith’s laughter follows her down the hall.

  I’m finishing my homework when Faith calls to give me the scoop.

  “So do you want the good news or the bad news first?” she asks.

  “Uh … bad news, I guess.”

  “Well, I didn’t get a part.”

  I’m glad we’re on the phone, so Faith can’t see my sudden smile.

  “Oh, that sucks, Faith,” I lie. “I know you really wanted to be in the play. Did Grace get a part?”

  “Yes. She’s Titania, which is amazing for a freshman, isn’t it? She was so psyched!”

  “Wow. That’s great. So … is that the good news?”

  “No. I mean, it is good news and all, but the really good news is … Do you remember that really cute guy? You know, the one you read with? Ted?”

  “Um, yeah. It’s kind of hard to forget the last person you saw before you face-planted into the stage.”

  Faith laughs. “Well, he was there when we went to check out the casting results and we got to talking and he didn’t get a part either, but he told me that he’s going to sign up for stage crew and he thought it would be really cool if I did, too. Can you believe he said that?”

  “Uh, no. I mean, yeah. I mean, it seemed like he was kind of … you know, flirting with you at the auditions.”

  “You think so? I was so nervous I guess I didn’t notice. I never in a million years thought he’d be interested in me, but I sure noticed he was super cute…. I mean those eyes … Have you ever seen eyes like that? I mean —”

  I kind of tune out Faith’s breathless listing of Ted’s adorable attributes and log on to ChezTeen.com.

  “Abby? Abs, are you listening?”

  “Sorry, what? My mom was calling me from downstairs,” I lie.

  “I was asking if you’ll sign up for stage crew with me. I think it’ll be really fun. Ted said it’s going to be a really elaborate set so they’re going to need all the help they can get.”

  I try desperately to think of a good reason to say no.

  “I … can’t.”

  There’s an awkward pause before Faith asks, “You can’t, or you don’t want to?”

  I don’t want to.

  “I can’t. It’ll take up too much time after school and I’ve got a project to work on.”

  “But, Abby, you’re so smart and you always do well in school. You can manage doing both, I know it. And there are so many cool people involved in the play. Ted says —”

  “Faith, I’m not doing it, okay? Just leave it.”

  The silence down the line is thick and painful. I can almost see Faith’s face, the frown lines between her dark brows, and I wonder if maybe I should just give stage crew a try. Maybe if I spend more time with Faith, it’ll somehow stop this awful feeling that our friendship is on its way to a slow, painful, and inevitable death. But I just can’t face going back into that auditorium where I passed out, center stage. What if everyone laughs at me?

  “Okay,” Faith says in a quiet voice. “Whatever. It’s your choice. I guess I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow. Bye.”

  There’s an empty feeling in my chest as I hang up, like a hollowed-out pumpkin. It’s as if I’ve been losing Faith a little each day, and now I’ve just pushed our relationship over a cliff. I’m in free fall and there’s no one there to catch me.

  I glance at the blur of my laptop screen through my tears and see that there are two chat messages from Luke that I missed while I was talking to Faith:

  BlueSkyBoi: Hey, gorgeous! How wuz ur day?

  BlueSkyBoi: ?? U there??

  Hoping he’s still online, I type in my answer.

  AbyAngel99: Sry, wuz on phone. U still there?

  I watch the cursor on the chat screen anxiously. I want him to be there so bad. I almost cry with relief when I see the pencil icon that tells me Luke is typing a reply to my message.

  BlueSkyBo
i: I’m here for u, baby. How goes?

  AbyAngel99: Not so good.

  BlueSkyBoi: What’s up, honey?

  AbyAngel99: Faith wants me 2 work stage crew for the play.

  AbyAngel99: I said no.

  AbyAngel99: Now she’s mad.

  BlueSkyBoi: Why’d u say no?

  AbyAngel99: After passing out in front of everyone? No way!

  BlueSkyBoi: Can see that. And wasn’t ur friend Faith just doing it to get friendly with that girl, Grace?

  I can’t believe Luke remembered that. Wow. My own parents don’t remember what I tell them about my life from one day to the next. Probably because they’re only half listening to me most of the time.

  AbyAngel99: Yeah. Plus, now she’s crushing on this guy Ted on the crew. I bet I’d just end up being the third wheel.

  BlueSkyBoi: Well, I’m kinda glad ur not doing it cause it means you’ll have more time 2 talk 2 me.

  AbyAngel99: Me 2, I guess.

  BlueSkyBoi: So what do ur parents do?

  AbyAngel99: My mom’s a dental hygienist and my dad’s an accountant.

  BlueSkyBoi: Do u get along with them?

  AbyAngel99: Okay, I guess. My dad’s like a total workaholic right now. He started his own business last year. We hardly ever see him, especially at tax time.

  BlueSkyBoi: Brothers and sisters?

  AbyAngel99: Younger sister, who is, without a doubt, the Devil’s Spawn.

  BlueSkyBoi: LOL!

  AbyAngel99: Srsly! She’s got 666 behind her ear. I checked while she was sleeping.

  BlueSkyBoi: Ur too funny, Abby. You’ve got such a gr8 sense of humor!

  AbyAngel99: How bout you? Sis or bros?

  BlueSkyBoi: 2 older sisters.

  AbyAngel99: Do u get along w them?

  The pencil cursor hangs there. I wonder if he’s going to answer me. Finally, he types.

  BlueSkyBoi: 1, yes. The other … not so much.

  AbyAngel99: Yeah, well. U can choose ur friends …

  BlueSkyBoi: Haha! How’d u get 2 be so smart when ur only 14?

  BlueSkyBoi: That’s what I love about u.

  Omigod. He used the L word. No one’s ever used the L word to me except my parents and my grandparents. Oh, and Faith, but that doesn’t count because that’s just best-friend talk.

  BlueSkyBoi: Ur so much more mature than other girls ur age. That’s why I really enjoy talking to u. I wish we could …

  “Abby, it’s time for dinner.”

  Mom opens the door and comes into my room and I quickly minimize the chat screen so she can’t see my conversation with Luke.

  “Can’t you knock, Mom? I mean, I could have been changing or something. Aren’t I entitled to a little privacy?”

  Mom tilts her head and gives me one of those annoying I’m-such-a-cool-understanding-mom smiles.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t think. Sometimes I forget that my little girl has … blossomed into a young woman and doesn’t want her mom seeing her in her underwear anymore.”

  Sheesh. At least she didn’t use the words puberty and menstruation. There was a time when I was afraid to get in the car with her because she kept trying to bring up “my changing body,” like I’d actually want to talk about that with her.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Let me just finish this sentence and I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “Don’t be long,” Mom says. “It’s your favorite — spaghetti Bolognese.”

  As soon as she’s gone, I open the chat screen and read:

  BlueSkyBoi: … talk all the time.

  BlueSkyBoi: ?? You still there?

  I type, fast and furious.

  AbyAngel99: Sorry, had a P911.

  BlueSkyBoi: I figured.

  AbyAngel99: GTG dinner.

  BlueSkyBoi: Bon appetit!

  BlueSkyBoi: BTW, u don’t talk to anyone about us, do you?

  AbyAngel99: No, why?

  BlueSkyBoi: People might not understand.

  BlueSkyBoi: They don’t realize how special u are and that’s why … Well, I know you’ve got to go, so I’ll save this convo for when we have more time.

  I’m not even hungry for dinner now. I just want to know what Luke is going to say to me about “us.” But Mom is shouting my name from downstairs.

  AbyAngel99: I wish I could talk more now, but I really GTG. Mom’s shouting. TTYL.

  BlueSkyBoi: I’ll be thinking of u. Constantly.

  AbyAngel99: Me too. Byes!

  I barely taste my dinner, and I toss and turn all night, wondering what Luke was going to say.

  CHAPTER 5

  OCTOBER 6

  I log on before school the next morning to see if Luke’s online but he isn’t, and there aren’t any messages from him either. I was hoping maybe he’d write whatever he was going to say to me in an e-mail. It’s driving me crazy trying to guess.

  It’s also really distracting. I find my thoughts drifting in science and when I look down I’ve doodled Luke’s name in my notes. Must. Concentrate.

  Ms. Forcier’s talking about the characteristics of living things. Wait, I know this. I did the homework. She’s already listed:

  1. Made of cells

  2. Obtain and use energy

  3. Grow and develop

  4. Respond to the environment

  I scribble these down in my notes, next to all my Luke doodles.

  “Billy, what’s another characteristic of living things?” Ms. Forcier asks.

  Billy Fisher is my lab partner. We ended up together after everyone else picked lab partners and we were the only two left without one. In other words, we were the biggest losers in the room. The thing is, he’s not the kind of guy you’d think of as a loser. He’s really smart and even kind of cute. I like the way he blushes a little whenever Ms. Forcier asks him a question. I guess he’s shy or something.

  “Uh … reproduction.”

  “Ooooohhhhh,” Tyrone says. “Figures you’d remember that one, B.”

  Most of the class cracks up, and Billy turns even redder.

  “Thank you, Tyrone, that’s enough commentary,” Ms. Forcier says, writing 5. Reproduction on the board. “Abby, how about giving me another characteristic?”

  I’m trying to visualize the textbook that I read last night, except all I see are Luke’s chats. This is bad. Science is usually my best subject. I stare at the list on the board and will myself to remember what I know is in my brain under all the Lukeness.

  “Um … they adapt to the environment?”

  “That’s right,” Ms. Forcier says, turning to add it to the list on the board.

  I glance over at Billy. He grins at me and I mime wiping my brow with relief.

  “Didn’t you read the chapter?” he asks me after class. “You’re usually the first one to raise your hand with the answer when Ms. Forcier asks a question.”

  “I did. I guess I was having a brain fart or something.”

  He laughs. “Too many beans for dinner last night, huh?”

  “Ha-ha. You’re so funny. Not.”

  But he kind of is. And he’s pretty cute when he smiles.

  “I’ve got to get to math,” I say.

  “Okay, see you around.”

  Nick Peters is waiting to copy my math homework, as usual. It kind of pisses me off that he’s started to expect it. When I said I would help him with math, I didn’t mean I would do it for him. I kind of expected him to put in some effort.

  “Thanks, Angie,” he says, handing back my paper. “You rock.”

  Yeah. I rock so much you can’t even get my fricking name right.

  It drives me crazy how Amanda giggles every time Nick calls me by the wrong name, but she never bothers to correct him. But then, why would she? If they made a movie of our high school, I’d just be “girl in math class” in the credits, where Nick and Mandy would have starring roles.

  Glancing down, I realize I’m doodling Luke’s name again. I guess thinking about him makes the rest of this seem bearable
, because to Luke I’m not just social plankton. To Luke, I’m someone special. I hope he’s online when I get home, so I can finally hear what it was he was going to tell me before Mom called me for dinner last night. The suspense is killing me.

  I race to check my computer when I get home, but Luke’s still not online. I go down to have a snack and then force myself to focus on my homework. Well, not entirely. I allow myself to check if he’s online every ten minutes, but he’s not there. I wonder where he is and what he’s doing. I realize he’s never really told me all that much about himself.

  “Wut up, loser?”

  Great. Lily’s home.

  “Nothing much, spawn o’ Satan.”

  “We learned about sexually transmitted diseases in health today. It was soooooooo disgusting. I think I’m warped for life.”

  “Uh … I hate to break this to you, Lily, but you were warped for life before that.”

  “Like you’re one to talk! Seriously, though. I am never, ever going to have sex. Like, ever.”

  “Dad’ll be psyched to hear that. He won’t have to buy a shotgun.”

  “Whatever. I’m going to get a snack. You better not have finished all the chocolate chip cookies.”

  The shriek from the kitchen one minute and thirty-five seconds later tells me that Lily’s discovered that I have, indeed, finished the chocolate chip cookies. What can I say? I’m stressed out because I need to talk to Luke. She can just sue me.

  Dad’s not home for dinner, as usual. It seems like we hardly ever see him these days. Even on the weekends, he spends half the time in his home office working, only emerging long enough to ask me what I’m studying and how my grades are doing. Sometimes I feel like telling him I got an F just to get his attention. Yeah, like I’d ever really do that. Being smart is about the only thing I have going for me. It’s not like I’m ever going to win a beauty contest or anything. I guess the only way guys like Nick Peters are ever going to look at me is to see if they can copy my homework.

  It’s so depressing. I wish I could just take some magic pretty pill or something, so I could look like Amanda Armitage. Not that I’d want to be a witch like her. I’d just like to see what it felt like to have a guy like Nick pay attention to me, even if it was only for a day. Or even one math class. Is that so much to ask?