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Authors: E. Lockhart

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BOOK: The Boyfriend List
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I didn’t have a coat. It was freezing on deck. He put his arm around me to keep me warm. It was the first time we were alone all evening. We were standing in the moonlight, looking over the railing at the lake, watching the light play across the dark water, like I’d imagined. Jackson was talking about some anime movie he’d seen.

I wasn’t listening.

I was looking at his mouth and feeling his warm hand against my chilly shoulder.

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do what I did: I put my hand on his neck and kissed him.

He kissed me back.

I thought: This is right. I forgive everything. He wants me again. We’ll be together.

Then he pushed me away. “Ruby,” Jackson said in a
strange, loud, public voice. “What are you doing? That’s not how it is, now. We’re here as friends. You know I’m with Kim.”

I looked across the deck. Standing there, looking at us—Heidi Sussman and Finn Murphy. Jackson pushed past them and ran down a set of steps.

As soon as I was alone on the deck of the boat, I had a panic attack. Heidi and Finn had disappeared, and there was no one out there except Meghan and some seniors, down at the other end, plus one couple who had their tongues down each other’s throats. I felt so dizzy I had to hold on to the railing to stand up, my heart was hammering, my breath was coming in tiny gasps; I felt like there was no oxygen, and I broke out in a sweat, even though it was freezing. Eventually I staggered over to a bench.

Noel came out and sat next to me. He’s the boy from Painting Elective who sent me that carnation with the goofy rhyme on Valentine’s Day. “How do I love thee? As high as pigs can fly.” He was wearing a tuxedo, which no other boys were doing (they wore suits), and he lit a cigarette with an old-fashioned silver lighter.

This Noel is one of those not-quite-friends-with-every-body people who never seems like he’s being serious. He’s very ironic about Tate and everything it stands for (preppy white lacrosse players driving BMWs), but he’s got a lot of confidence and no one gives him any crap. His shaggy blond hair sticks out in a ridiculous way that I think probably requires hair gel. His left eyebrow is
pierced. That night, his combat boots were sticking out under his tux, big steel toes glinting in the moonlight.

If Noel has girlfriends, he has them out of school. He came to the dance alone, which almost no one could get away with, but Noel is such a man of ironic distance that he pulled it off and no one thought he was a leper.

“Hey, Ruby,” he said, sinking down next to me on the bench near the ship’s railing. “I hear there’s a party at your house, and now your boyfriend’s in a twist over something and you don’t even have a ride to your own fête. Can that be true, or is it a load of Tate gossip?”

I couldn’t believe I’d let Jackson tell people that party was still on. He’d probably invited half the junior and sophomore classes. “How do you know I don’t have a ride?” I asked. (Would Jackson really leave without me?)

“Are you kidding?” Noel scrunched up his nose and took a drag off his cigarette. “It’s all over the boat.”

“Ag. Well, then I’m sure no one’s coming to my house.”

“You better believe they are. Five people asked me if I was going. Ariel Oliveri. Katarina Dolgen. It’s going to be a scene.”

“Oh, no.”

“If I’m invited, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Of course you’re invited. I—I haven’t had the best week. Jackson told everybody about it. It was his idea.”

Noel smiled. “That’s okay. I know. I keep up on my Ruby Oliver news.”

I was so grateful, I felt like Noel was a knight in shining armor. He gave me his jacket to wear and hustled me
into his car. We drove back to my house and my parents had set out coolers full of soft drinks down on the end of the dock where the boats are—plus a bunch of folding chairs and some candles in paper bags, which looked so pretty. People were already standing around when I arrived: Matt and Nora (who said she was tired and had her mom pick her up right after I got there)
2
; Ariel and Shiv; Katarina and Kyle; a bunch of junior friends of Jackson’s; Shep “Cabbie” Cabot and a senior girl with big boobs; some sophomores I knew from lacrosse. Finn and Heidi came a little while later. Cricket
3
and Pete never showed.

It was a beautiful night, I was the hostess of a party full of popular people wearing gorgeous clothes; there was a boy in a tux by my side. It should have been great.

Instead, I was shattered.

Someone handed me a beer. I don’t remember who. I’d never really had more than a couple of sips before that, or maybe a little wine at one of my mom’s opening night parties—but I drank the whole can. And I’d like to blame what happened next on that—only I can’t, because as Doctor Z says, I am in charge of myself.

Here’s a list of semi-beer-induced bad things that happened at the dock party, and I admit that three of them are my own stupid fault:

One: I held hands with Noel. I grabbed it on purpose when Finn and Heidi arrived. I felt like I wanted protection. He kept holding it for a while, and I liked it. But
I felt weird about it the next day. I hadn’t meant to be flirtatious.
4

Two: It soon became clear that the story Heidi was spreading around about what she saw on the boat did
not
involve Jackson kissing me back—which he did for at least twenty seconds, I swear. Heidi’s story
5
involved Jackson being a faithful saint who was only doing a favor taking a poor, rejected four-eyed ex to a dance when she had no other date, but then she (me) made this huge unwanted pass at him and he had to push her (me) away, in order to remain true to the no-butt bitch he was currently dating (Kim), which of course he would, because even though he couldn’t really care about her (Kim), he was still such an excellent guy.
6

Three: Angelo Martinez showed up! I never in a zillion years thought he would, even though I invited him. But there I was, talking to Noel and feeling dizzy from the beer and also annoyed that all these people were more than happy to drink my parents’ pop and stand on our dock while slavering over my multiple rejections and humiliations. I was trying to explain to Noel how I didn’t ever want to talk about Jackson again and did he think Jackson still liked me? when I glanced over at Katarina and who was she talking to but Angelo! He was wearing chinos and a sweatshirt—and he was
holding a corsage.

“Hi,” I said, walking over.

“Hi,” he said.

“Is this your new boyfriend, Roo?” asked Katarina.

Angelo ignored her, and handed me the corsage in its clear plastic box. Yellow roses, like at Homecoming. “I paid for it in advance,” he said, “before you called. So I figured, why not pick it up and bring it over?”

“Thanks.”

“I hope your boyfriend won’t mind.” Angelo opened the box for me and lifted out the flowers. I looked down at the pink carnations from Jackson, sagging but still pinned to the strap of my dress.

I ripped them off and stamped them into the ground with the heel of my silver shoe. “He won’t mind,” I said, “I can promise you that.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed Angelo on the cheek. “These flowers are just what I needed tonight,” I said. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem,” he said, and then he bent down and
kissed
my
cheek, only a little closer to the mouth than a normal cheek kiss. A jolt went down my spine.

“Roo, what the hell?”

I turned, and there was Jackson, striding down the length of the dock with his tie loosened. The smashed carnations. The kiss. He had seen it all.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping back from Angelo.

“Who’s this guy?”

“We weren’t—”

“I can’t believe you!”

“Me?”

“I was coming back to talk,” Jackson said under his breath, his lips close to my ear. “I’ve been driving all over, thinking about things. I came back, because I felt bad about what happened on the boat.” He was sweating. I had no idea what to say. “I thought you cared about me,” Jackson went on. “But obviously none of it ever meant anything.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you’re here, making out with some guy.”

“Jackson!”

He turned around and stomped back to his car.

When I turned around, Angelo was gone too.

Four: My mom found a beer can. “Roo, how did this get here? I’m so disappointed in you; don’t you know some of your friends are driving? blah blah blah.” Not even important in the grand scheme of things, except that
I had to listen to an endless lecture when I was frankly in no condition to deal.

So there I was, my mom yelling at me, Heidi talking crap about me, weirded out by the Noel dynamic, Angelo probably mad at me, Jackson thinking I was cheating on him/getting over him too quickly/generally skanky—and you’d think things couldn’t get worse, but ha! It’s my life. Things can always get worse.

Five: I was standing in front of our house getting lectured by Elaine Oliver, who gives loud and obnoxious monologues
for a living
and was therefore on a tremendous and highly dramatic rant, when Meghan came walking down the dock. The other kids were still partying like thirty yards away, down where the boats were. I had seen Meghan briefly at the dance, and she looked stunning in a black strapless dress and a string of pearls around her neck. Very different from her usual scruffy prepster look. “Hi, Mrs. Oliver,” she said, polite as can be.

“Meghan, how nice to see you!” My mom suddenly turned on the charm. “Did you have fun at the Spring Fling?”

“Yes,” she said. “I dropped Bick off and I’m just getting back. I saw the candles. Roo, are you having a party?”

“Sure,” said my mother, all hostessy. You would never believe this was the same woman who only seconds before was screaming that I was an “inconsiderate recklessly endangering illegal party monster” about beer
that I didn’t even buy.
“Would you like a pop?” Mom said to Meghan. “Your dress is beautiful, sweetie.”

“Thanks.”

My mom walked over to one of the coolers to get a drink.

“Roo, how come you didn’t invite me?” Meghan asked, as soon as my mother was out of earshot.

“What?”

“To your party.” Her voice was hurt. “Did you think I wouldn’t know about it? I live practically next door.”

To tell the truth, I simply hadn’t thought of it. Sure, Meghan drove me to school every day. Sure, we’d talk about stuff and get drive-thru Starbucks, and borrow money off each other, and sing along to the radio—but I never thought of her as my friend. I guess I figured she’d be off at some party with Bick and the Whipper and a bunch of seniors, and she wouldn’t care what my crew of sophomores and juniors were up to.

“I—I meant to,” I stammered. “It was an accident. Jackson did everything. I didn’t have much to do with it.”

“Are you mad at me about something?” Meghan asked. “I thought we were friends.”

“I forgot to invite Noel, too,” I said. “He wasn’t mad. He just came along. Please don’t take it personally.”

“I’d never have a party and not invite you,” Meghan said. “We go to school together every single day. We’re neighbors.” She was shivering, her skinny arms looking cold and raw against her black silk dress.

“Here’s your pop, Meghan,” my mother said, coming back with an icy can. “I hope ginger ale is okay; it’s all we had left. I looked for a Coke, but I couldn’t find one, so you’re stuck with the unpopular drink.”

“Perfect,” said Meghan, smiling sweetly at my mom. “I’m an unpopular girl. Do you mind if I take it with me? I’m completely tired. I should be getting home.”

I went inside to the bathroom and had another panic attack.

Monday after the dance, no one would talk to me. Meghan didn’t show up to drive me to school, so my mom eventually took me. Kim was back from her family’s weekend trip, and I could feel her and Jackson ignoring me from miles away.

I tried to talk to Cricket and Nora, but Cricket just said, “Later, okay, Roo? We’ve got stuff to do,” and the two of them went off toward the refectory and then avoided me the rest of the day. Katarina and her set were pleasant enough, but I could tell they wanted to know what was going on with Angelo and Jackson so they could spread it around, so I tried not to get into conversations with them.

BOOK: The Boyfriend List
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