Stay Gold - Tobly McSmith Page 0,75

she’s not a vampire). “You have not been looking at your phone,” she says. Lauren follows closely behind Mia.

I shut the door. “I have been napping. To what do I owe this visit?”

Mia sits on my couch. “Did you read the Hillcrest Reporter?”

My heart jumps into my throat. “The school paper?” I need to play this cool. “Why would I read that?”

“Right,” Lauren says, sitting on the footstool. “Mia, no one is reading that thing.”

“What thing?” I ask.

Mia tosses me her phone. “See for yourself,” she says.

I sit down on the floor, my back against the couch, and read my beautiful article. “Wow,” I say.

“Wow is right,” Mia repeats. “How dare someone write that crap?” Her hands are shaking. “It’s not even good.”

“And to not put your name? What a coward,” Lauren adds.

The realness of this situation hits me. My best friends are upset about an article that I wrote, and they don’t know I wrote it.

Mia looks at her phone. “I hate this part the most: ‘The outdated tradition of football versus cheerleading prank wars needs to stop before someone gets hurt.’” Mia cracks up, and Lo joins. She continues reading. “‘The pranks are setting a bad example for the underclassman and allowing for bad behavior.’” They bust up laughing again.

And then the doorbell rings. How could this get worse?

I open the door to something even more surprising: Pony holding a stack of poster boards, wearing a Santa hat. Saturday has officially lost its mind.

He shhhhs me and reveals a poster board: SAY IT’S CAROL SINGERS

“Pony, no one is here,” I lie.

“Just say it,” he whispers.

I turn my head in and yell, “It’s carol singers.” I catch a look at Lauren, more confused than ever.

“Who is Carol Singers?” she asks as I close the door. Pony bends down and pushes play on an old-school boom box. It’s some Christmas song. OMG, he’s Love Actually-ing me.

Pony smiles and reveals the next poster: WITH ANY LUCK,

And the next: SEEING HOW YOU AND I ARE ONLY FRIENDS

I’LL SOON BE GOING OUT WITH ONE OF THESE GIRLS . . .

He shoots a cute look at me and flips to the next poster. It’s a bunch of old ladies in bathing suits. I laugh. This is so cute I could melt, but it’s leading to something that makes me both excited and uncomfortable.

Pony flips another poster board: BUT FOR NOW, LET ME SAY,

BECAUSE IT’S CHRISTMAS*

He raises his eyebrow and flips the next card: (*NOT REALLY. GO WITH IT)

(AND AT CHRISTMAS YOU TELL THE TRUTH)

YOU HIDE THE BEST THINGS ABOUT YOU

BUT I SEE THEM

I SEE YOU, GEORGIA

AND TO ME, YOU ARE PERFECT

He pauses on this card. My heart is exploding. Nobody has ever done something so sweet. He turns over the next card: I WANT TO BE WITH YOU

UNTIL YOU LOOK LIKE THIS

The next poster has the same old ladies in bathing suits.

GEORGIA,

We lock eyes.

I LOVE ACTUALLY YOU

Pony drops the last poster board and gives me the double thumbs-up like the movie. I step closer to him and hope the girls aren’t watching from the window. “You love me?”

“Yes, Georgia. I can’t be just friends. I can’t stop how I feel about you.” He takes a step toward me. “And I think you feel it, too.”

“Pony, it doesn’t matter,” I say.

“See! You love actually me, too.”

I step away from him. “I can’t do this.”

“I know I lied at first, and I’m sorry. Forgive me. Let’s try again.”

The front door opens, breaking our intensity. Lauren peeks out. No doubt Mia sent her. She is stunned. I’m guessing she didn’t expect to see this scene.

“Hey,” I say to her, “I’ll be back in two.”

Without comment, she closes the door.

“Pony,” I say, shutting my eyes. Of course this would happen. I led him on. I kissed him. It wasn’t fair of me, and I need to be honest. “I can’t date you.”

He steps away. “Because I lied?”

“Not because you lied to me,” I admit. “It didn’t help, but . . .”

“But why?” he asks again.

“Because you’re transgender.”

“What?” he says with an anger that I have never seen from him. “Is that true?”

I wish it wasn’t true. I wish I didn’t care about it. But I do. I lower my voice, worried they can hear. “Pony, people will find out about you. And if we’re dating? I can’t be connected to that kind of thing. People wondering if I’m gay or whatever.”

“Are you attracted to girls?” he asks.

“No,” I say. “I’m into guys. But you—”

Pony cuts me off. “Then