frickin’ Nick Giuliani swaggers toward her and climbs up on the wall, smiling like a walrus at a clam convention. He’s even wearing his eye patch that makes him look like he’s Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean. In less than two seconds, Nick goes from zero to hero.
Well, I’ll be damned.
I turn to Peyton, and she is staring at the two of them, her jaw hanging slack.
“Are you kidding me?” I put my hand on the crook of her arm. “Are you okay?”
She bursts out laughing, which is completely not what I expected. Now I’m really confused as hell. We watch as Nick fist pumps the air for the cheering crowd as they snap pictures. The only person who looks slightly less enthusiastic is Amanda herself, who is probably realizing that her anonymous questionnaire, may have, in fact, been a terrible, terrible mistake. I’m betting none of the scenarios she ran in her head included Nick Giuliani. It would actually be pretty funny if I wasn’t so confused about whether I should be elated I wasn’t chosen or pissed off that he was.
Nick is clearly enjoying his fifteen minutes. He holds his hands up in his best Nixon “I am not a crook” pose and loops an arm around an under-enthusiastic Amanda’s shoulders as they are immortalized for all time on Instagram, or at least in next week’s issue of the Kennedy High Gazette.
I’m about to tell Peyton that Nick’s a jerk and we should cut out and go somewhere, just her and me, but she shakes her head. “It’s fine. I’m good.”
“Are you kidding me? Are you watching the same thing I am? Because in case you haven’t noticed, your boyfriend is kind of an asshole.”
“I’m fine. In fact, this is perfect. I’m actually relieved.” She really does seem relaxed. It makes me wonder if the reasons she might be are the same reasons I am.
I catch up with Nick in Mr. Vaughn’s class. The kid practically radiates from his newfound celebrity. I can’t even look at him.
“Can you believe this madness?” he says, leaning across the aisle as we wait for class to start. “Someone pinch me, right? Hey, you wanna go to Ziggy’s after school and grab a burger to celebrate? My treat. I’m feeling generous.”
Is he kidding? I lean in and whisper, “What the hell is going on, Nick?”
“What crawled up your ass and died? I’d think you of all people would be happy for me, man. Jesus.” He frowns.
“Happy for you? Really?”
He seems as confused by my reaction as I am by his. “Hank, what’s up? You’re acting weird.”
I shake my head. “What about Peyton?”
His brows knit together again. “What about her?”
“Well, she’s kinda your girlfriend.”
“Dude, we broke up three days ago. Keep up, man. I mean, Peyton’s cool and all, but that girl has some serious issues. I’m not sure the chemistry is right. You know what I’m saying? We’re better off as friends. Plus, every other word out of her mouth is about you. It was like you were there with us every time we hung out, even though you weren’t actually there. So when she broke it off with me, I was honestly relieved. I didn’t want to have to break her heart. She’s pretty intense.”
Every word was about me? They broke up three days ago?
Well, this is an interesting development. “Wow. I didn’t know.” I resist the urge to smile.
“I figured she told you. It wasn’t like we were all that serious anyhow.”
“That’s cool,” I say, trying to process all this new information. “I gotta ask you something though. Why’d you do it? You know…go up there with Amanda.”
He looks at me, confused, and angles himself in his seat toward me. “What are you talking about? I got up there because I won.”
Just like that, I’m back to feeling annoyed. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. He shouldn’t have won. He bullshitted his way through those stupid questions on Amanda’s website, just like everyone else. Now he’s walking around like he’s all that, and I’m the only one, aside from Peyton, that knows it’s a load of crap. Plus, he was still dating Peyton while pursuing Amanda, which pisses me off even more. “Really? You set that fire?”
He looks around to see if anyone’s listening, and then leans in and says, “You know I didn’t set that fire, man. I wouldn’t do something like that. I’m not a moron.”
I ignore the moron bit. “So you’re willing