Last Year's Mistake - Gina Ciocca Page 0,35

of it were too much. David and I tried our hardest not to laugh at her as we exchanged a look.

“Um, David?” Both of us looked up at the sound of Isabel’s voice. She stood a good six feet away, like she was afraid she’d get blood on her expensive North Face attire if she came one step closer. “Is there anything I can do?”

She sounded semi-sincere, though I got the feeling she’d faint or throw up if either of us said yes.

“No, we’re good,” David said. “I’m going to get her home now. Thanks, Isabel.”

Dismissed. My insides may or may not have done a little jig.

Isabel nodded, not bothering to hide her disappointment before she turned and walked away. Good-bye to you, too, I thought to myself. I was about to say it—okay, grumble it under my breath—when she turned around and, with all the decorum of person forced to speak in tongues by a demon inhabiting her body, said, “Feel better, Kelsey.”

She turned away again before I could utter an equally forced thank-you. When I started to laugh, David narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“What? Seriously?” He really was dense when it came to girls. I folded the handkerchief to a clean spot and wiped my face. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Yeah. She was being nice.”

“Uh-huh. Nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

David shrugged as he helped me to my feet, replacing his hand on the back of my snow-covered neck with mine. He held an arm out to Miranda. “You okay, kid?” Miranda buried her face in his jacket and nodded. “Good. Come on. Let’s go.”

I didn’t know what made me look back as David ushered us to the parking lot, but I wished I hadn’t. My eyes zeroed in on Isabel’s group in the distance. One of the guys, a tall, beefy football player, was flailing and spasming all over the place as his friends doubled over with laughter. One of the girls made exaggerated wiping motions at his face with her scarf, dancing in fake-panicked circles around him. Not just any girl.

Maddie.

They were making fun of me. She was making fun of me. The same girl who’d told off Cameron Myers in second grade for teasing me when I threw up on the playground was laughing at my expense. My heart sank like I’d watched something die. And maybe I had.

I’d never stopped to think that Maddie and I wouldn’t find our way back to being friends again. We’d disagreed on things before, and had always gotten over it. But the girl prancing around at the top of the hill obviously didn’t consider me her friend. Somewhere along the line, the gap between us had grown impassable, and there was no turning back.

Before I could look away, I caught sight of Isabel standing at the edge of the little reenactment. She wasn’t participating, but it didn’t matter. Not with the way her arms were folded across her chest, and the way she stared right at me.

No, not stared. Glared.

I turned away. She might have been able to convince David of her concern, but I left the golf course certain of two things. One, I’d never forget the hurt and embarrassment I’d felt that day. And two, I’d cinched my status as Isabel’s enemy without even trying.

Thirteen

Rhode Island

Senior Year

Violet came into English class looking the way she once had when she left Starbucks with someone’s decaf tea instead of her latte—pissed off.

Her gold ballet flats swept over the tile floor with short, quick steps. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and the force with which her butt hit the seat and her bag hit the floor told me she definitely wasn’t happy.

“What’s up with you?” I said.

She looked at me and huffed an agitated breath. “Nothing.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Violet shot a glare in my direction, and the look on her face told me she was contemplating whether she wanted to say more. Finally, she leaned toward me, one arm draped across her desk. “I think David is gay.”

I nearly spit out the sip of bottled water I’d just taken.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” I wiped my mouth, not bothering to hide my laughter. I would have if I’d known Violet’s face would turn purple.

“Something is up with him,” she said defensively. Her eyes darted around the mostly empty classroom, and she scooted closer to me and lowered her voice. “So last Saturday? I invited him over to my house to watch a movie. You know, in