let myself pay attention.
I was still so upset about what had happened that I was distracted all through fifth period with Nate. Didn't really matter. He was never up for talking much. He just wanted me to listen while he played.
When the bell rang, I assumed he'd do the same thing as always and tell me he'd be around the next day. Or in this case, Monday. Instead, he asked if I ever checked out the music scene at any of the clubs in Philly.
I quickly calculated my answer: I might look like a loser if I said no, but if I lied and said yes, he'd start asking questions and I'd be caught.
"No." I realized my perfect out. "We just moved here, so..."
I let the sentence dangle. I hoped he wouldn't ask me from where I'd moved, since it was just another suburb of Philadelphia. He didn't.
"The Ruse is playing at the Works tonight. Want to come?"
Was Nate asking me out on a date?
I was glad I'd been distracted. It stopped me from doing anything stupid like jumping up and squealing. I let the question sit before I answered. "Sure."
"Cool. Give me your address. I'll pick you up at seven."
"Cool."
Wait. It was not cool. My parents would never let me out of the house dressed for a Nate Wetherill date.
"Actually ... no."
"Okay," Nate said, walking away.
"No!" I'd shown more emotion in that one word than I had in a whole week hanging out. I had to bring it back down. "I mean, no, don't pick me up at my house. My parents, they're freaks. Can I meet you at your place?"
"Sure. I'll e-mail you the address."
The second he walked out of eyeshot, I texted madly to Claudia. "911! Date w Nate 2nite! Must plan! Call!!!!"
The plan Claudia and I mapped out that afternoon was simple. I couldn't just ask my parents to let me stay at Claude's place for the weekend. There was a chance they'd say no. Instead, I'd tell them Claudia had just had a terrible fight with a friend and desperately needed a full weekend of my support. They'd never deny her that—and they didn't. Mom even considered whipping up a batch of Claudia's favorite snickerdoodles to make her feel better, but I said there wasn't enough time.
Mom and Karl never even considered the idea that I might be lying. They trusted me so completely that I felt guilty. Not guilty enough to tell them the truth or skip my date with Nate, but guilty. At least it wasn't a total lie. I would go to Claudia' s eventually—just much, much, much later than my parents imagined.
I left the house and drove right to Wegmans. It was a nice change seeing the evening shift. The morning shift had begun to recognize me and my quick-change act. One of the cashiers had taken to calling out, "Hey, Clark!" as I came in and marking my exit with "It's a bird, it's a plane, it's SuperGoth!" This was not only tiresome but inaccurate. There's a huge difference between goth and emo, but I never had the time or energy to give a tutorial.
I changed into my dressiest outfit: black lace-up boots with chunky heels, the bright purple fishnets, a short black pleated skirt accented with studs and chains, and a black lace-and-velour corset top with hook and eye closures climbing up the front. I threw on a pair of black fishnet arm warmers, which I was fairly certain wouldn't keep my arms warm at all. A few minutes piling on the makeup and I was on my way.
I punched Nate's address into my GPS and it led me to...
Really?
It was a mansion. Other than my dad's place, it was the biggest house I'd ever seen. Not that I could see it well; it had no outdoor lights at all. Was this the right address? I picked my way across the lawn to the front door and used the light from my phone to look for numbers, but there weren't any. Should I just ring the bell? If I did, would I be disturbing some random serial killer waiting for easy prey? I was about to e-mail Nate to double-check the directions when he opened the front door.
"Hey." He half smiled. "Hi."
"Come on. I'll drive."
He slipped out and I followed him to the driveway. I wondered if his parents were out. Even if he didn't want to introduce me, it seemed weird that he didn't say goodbye to them.