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liked me, I can t have that.
After forcing down some breakfast, I continue walking around the city, sobbing off and on and
wondering if there s anyone I can talk to. Not Lorraine, who hasn t sent one of her updates since she got
a new boyfriend. Not my parents, who are basically the candy center of the whole mess. Not the coffee
shop workers, who think I m some sort of seventeen-year-old trailblazer. And definitely not my new
Bippy friends or any of my Lakewood admirers. They don t care about me. They just want me to
dress weirdly and make appearances at their parties. It s almost funny, in a way. They say I m real, and
yet they don t see me as a real person.
I could barely stomach everything when I thought my time here was almost up. But now that we aren t
moving& I just don t see how I can survive.
As I shamble along the sidewalk, crying and sniffling and lost in thought, it occurs to me that I m heading
toward the bingo parlor. Is it coincidence? Is it my guilt directing me back to the scene of the crime?
Maybe it s the Rosie in me, but I see it as a sign. The Helping Hands are supposed to be there cleaning
up right now. I should probably go and clean up my mess too.
I turn onto wider, busier streets and cross a few major intersections. Several people gawk and a couple
of drivers honk. I m hoping that they re just wondering about the wild-haired girl dressed as an old-timey
private eye and that they don t recognize me.
Eventually I reach the parlor. I see Jack s truck and feel a butcher knife sized Stabby. This is going to
be hard.
I pause, trembling, outside the front door. It s like first-day jitters times one thousand. Then I push into
the foyer and head into the main hall.
They re all there everyone except Mrs. Pratt. I expected them to be playing music and living up their
success some more, but they aren t. Instead they re sweeping and packing and pulling down those lame
cardboard Halloween cutouts with the draggy pace of a funeral march. Jack is at the far end of the room
doing something with the electrical outlet.
At first no one sees me. Then Drip, who s closest, looks up from her tablecloth-folding and lets out a
yelp of surprise, followed by an angry Oh no!
Everyone stops and gapes at me including Jack. No one says anything. I feel a strong, tingly rush, as if
every atom in my body is getting stirred up and set on fire. I move my mouth a little, but no sound comes
out. All I can do is stand there and get scorched by their stares.
Suddenly Penny walks over and frowns at me. You look bad, she remarks.
Yeah, I reply, my voice all crackly. A shudder comes over me and the sobs restart. For a moment I
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just cry while everyone watches.
Eventually I take a breath and meet Penny s concerned gaze. I m sorry, I rasp. I didn t mean it.
Everything that happened last night, it was all an act.
Drip seems completely unmoved, and the others just look blank. Only Penny appears to be truly
listening.
You see& I had this plan. I wasn t supposed to make friends& .
They all appear a little more interested now. I tromp over to a nearby folding chair and sit down to
relieve my shaking knees. Penny follows. Then I take a deep breath and tell them everything about my
strategy and how it totally went wrong. I don t mention Jack by name, but I describe how I started to
have real feelings for people and it scared me; and how all my past relationships ended up being a whole
lot of nothing and I didn t want that to happen again; and how I thought becoming a Bippy would cancel
it all out and help push them away.
The Helping Hands listen intently, their semishocked, semifascinated expressions never wavering. It feels
good to confess finally, and by the time I describe how I went home and started regretting everything,
I ve completely stopped crying.
I wipe my eyes on my sleeve, waiting for them to say something. I don t expect them to forgive me, at
least not right away, but maybe now that they know the whole story, they ll at least stop hating me.
Penny looks up at the ceiling. She seems to be mulling it over pretty hard. So& , she begins, you
wanted to hang out with me& because you knew you d never think of me as a friend?
Um& I don t know what to say. That s it, essentially. I just managed not to make it sound so awful.
Well, yeah. I mean, that s what I thought at first. Only because you were so& different. From me, I say
rambling. But that s not how I feel anymore! Youare my friend. I mean, I hope you are. I really do like
you!
One by one the others turn away. First Drip, then Carter, then the twins. Jack is still staring, but Penny
won t even look at me. She gazes down at the flecked vinyl tiles while a ruddy tinge spreads over her
face and neck. Suddenly she whirls around and starts trotting toward the girls restroom.
Penny? I stand up to follow her.
Stop! It s Jack. He s striding across the room in that superboy-on-a-mission way of his. Just stop!
He halts right in front of me. His eyes look too soft for him to be mad, and for a second, I think he s
going to stick up for me. What you did, he begins, his lips quivering, was disgusting. I can t believe I
liked you. I thought you were different, that you didn t care about stupid things like popularity. But you
do.
No, I don t! I protest. I was trying to beun popular!
So what! he shouts. Obviously it matters to you or you wouldn t have gone to all that trouble. If you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
