I wish Lindsey would stop talking in front of Cricket.
“It’s fine,” she continues. “I’ll hang out with them for a little while longer”—she gestures to the Bells—“and then I’ll catch the bus home. I’m tired.”
She’s pushing me away out of spite. There’s no good way of dealing with her when she’s like this, except to give her what she wants. “So, um, talk to you tonight?”
“Go,” she says.
I sneak another glimpse at Cricket before leaving. I wish I hadn’t. He looks tortured. As if he’d do anything to stop me, but he’s being held back by his own invisible demons. I mumble my goodbye. As I walk to the meadow, I take off the wig. I don’t have a purse—Lindsey never carries one—so I drape it on the branch of a Japanese maple. Maybe someone will find it and add it to their costume. I shake out my hair, unbutton the top of my shirt, and roll up the sleeves. It’s better, but I still don’t look like me.
Actually, I look more like me. I feel exposed.
Max is leaning against the first-aid station, and his shoulders relax when he sees me. He’s glad I’m alone. But when I lean up to kiss him, he hardens again, and it sends a chill down my spine. “Not now, Lola.”
His rebuke stings. Is it because of how I look?
“You’re still hanging out with him,” he says.
No, it’s because he’s jealous. I’m sweating again. “Who?” I ask, buying time.
“Grasshopper. Centipede. Praying Mantis.”
It makes me cringe to hear Max mock his name. “That’s not funny. And that wasn’t nice what you said to Lindsey earlier either.”
He crosses his arms. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“I’m not seeing him. We just bumped into him and his sister, I promise.” His silence intimidates me into blabbering. “I swear, Lindsey and I ran into them, like, three minutes before you showed up.”
“I don’t like the way he stares at you.”
“He’s just my neighbor, Max.”
“How many times have you seen him since Amoeba?”
I hesitate and decide to go with a slant truth. “Sometimes I see him through my window on the weekend.”
“Your window?Your bedroom window?”
I narrow my eyes. “And then I close my curtains. End of story.”
“Lola, I don’t believe—”
“You never believe me!”
“Because you lie your ass off all the time! Don’t think I don’t know you’re still hiding things from me. What happened at Muir Woods, Lola?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Nathan was trying to get you to tell me something at dinner. He was there, wasn’t he? The neighbor boy.”
“Ohmygod, you’re crazy. It was a family picnic. You’re getting paranoid, and you’re making things up.” I’m panicking. How does he know?
“Am I?”
“YES!”
“Because one of us is getting pretty worked up right now.”
“Because you’re accusing me of horrible things! I can’t believe you think I’d lie to you about something like that.” Oh God, I’m going to hell. I’m crying. “Why are you so convinced I’m ready to cheat on you?”