"I don't like broccoli either, but I can force it down when I need to."
"Oh, that's really nice."
"I'm just saying, it's the truth."
"But why? Why did you ever go out with me?"
"Gemma," Eddie said. "A week before my party she came on to me and I blew her off. If I hadn't come up with a girlfriend, she'd have told everyone I was gay just to save face."
"So what? Tons of people are gay. Nobody cares about gay anymore."
"Are you kidding? Was your old school in Yardley or the Castro?"
"Where?"
"People say they're cool with gay, but a lot of them really aren't. Especially high school guys. Especially high school athletes. Most especially high school athletes whose dad left their family to marry another guy."
"What? Who—"
"Brett. He's the worst, but it's not only him. Believe me, it's easier if I'm quiet about it."
"Okay ... so why me?"
"Because I didn't need to be straight to give you what you wanted in a boyfriend."
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Cara. Maybe a lot of people at Chrysella don't, but I pay attention. I saw the way you looked when you got here, I saw you hanging out with Archer Jain, I saw you go all emo-girl to get Nate Wetherill, and I saw how excited you got when I invited Nate to my party. You're a climber."
"I am not!" I cried.
Eddie just looked at me.
"I'm not," I insisted. "I may have done some climbing, but I am not a climber. That's not who I am."
"Whatever. I never even asked you out, Cara. You know why? I knew I didn't have to. I knew I could get you in with my friends and you'd go right along with it."
I was so beyond offended that I wanted to scream at him—except he was right. Then I remembered something.
"Okay, fine—then you're a climber, too. Robert Schwarner said you used to be friends. What did you do, dump him to be more popular?"
"You really want to know? Robert dumped me. I tried to kiss him in fourth grade and he freaked out."
"Oh."
"Don't get me wrong, Cara. I don't care that you're a climber. I like it. It works for me. It means we can help each other. I am totally happy to keep things the way they are. You keep me looking hetero, and I'll keep you in with Trista and the girls."
"I don't like that you think I'm that shallow," I said.
"You don't like that I think it or that I see it?"
"God, you don't even like me, do you?"
"Of course I like you. I wouldn't want to hang out with you this much if I didn't like you. I might not respect you, but I like you just fine."
That was it. I needed to get away immediately. Not that I had a lot of options. I was too drunk to drive home, and The Hang was occupied. I slid off the chaise, keeping the blanket wrapped around me.
"What are you doing?" Eddie asked.
"I'm going for a walk."
"Cara, it's freezing. You're only warm because we have heaters."
I needed shoes, but I couldn't bear to stuff my feet back into heels. "I'm taking your sneakers," I told Eddie as I shoved them on.
"You'll swim in them."
"I'll deal."
Eddie was right, of course. His sneakers were several sizes larger than my feet. Walking in them was like strolling in flippers. I basically had to shuffle and covered all of an inch at a time.
"You still haven't told me," Eddie said as I attempted to move. "Are we still together? 'Cause believe me, you might think the girls are your best friends, but if we break up, you're history to them."
I didn't want to believe him. I wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, that the girls weren't just my friends, they were my sisters. I was one of them, and I would be whether or not Eddie Riegert deigned to call me his girlfriend.
But then I remembered the List and the other columns with owners scratched out of existence. Maybe the Populazzi girls would keep me in their circle ... but maybe they wouldn't. Did I really want to risk it? Trista, Ree-Ree, Kristie, and Gemma were now my only friends at Chrysella. If they dumped me, where would I be?
"Cara?" Eddie prodded.
"Yes," I said softly, hating myself for being just what he said I was. "We're still together."