have the bag anymore. It’s currently in my notebook which Logan has.
In all my giddiness over the date and the disaster of seeing Terra, I forgot that the most damning evidence of my secret identity now resides in the glove box of a boy who may or may not hate my guts after how crappy I acted on our first date.
At that thought, I turn and stomp up the stairs. Mom is at the top, wanting to know how the date went.
“Fine,” I say pitifully. I can’t even muster the energy to lie convincingly anymore.
I go in my room and close the door. Leaning against it, I let my head fall back and stare at my popcorn ceiling. Terra’s going to be mad when she figures out what she saw. Logan is probably already mad. Eric’s going to freak out when he finds out who I dumped him for.
Crappity-crap-crap.
#19
The next morning as I lie in bed, I tell myself this is all for the best, really. I couldn’t continue to indulge my nerdy fantasies. What was I thinking? At least now Logan has to realize I’m not worth it. I’m going to do the right thing. I’m going to leave him alone, go back to my life of secrets—but even those secrets are tainted now. How will I ever be able to look at another comic book without thinking of him?
Then, there’s the whole Terra thing. By now, she has to know something is going on. What kind of best friend ignores the other friend when she’s standing right there, smiling, and keeps her out of the loop when she starts seeing a new guy? That’s the kind of thing I’m supposed to be excited about telling Terra. I’m supposed to dash over to her house and be all giggly about it. Maybe I should call her and try to explain. But what would I say? How do I answer all her questions?
With lies, most likely. I’m fed up with lies.
I toss and turn, punch my pillow, scream into it, and dash away tears for two hours before finally deciding to roll out of bed. I haven’t even made it to the bathroom when the house phone rings. Hope flashes through me—maybe Logan wants to talk—but then I realize it can’t be him because he’d call me on my cell.
“Maddie,” my mom yells from downstairs.
“Yeah?” My heart starts pounding.
“You have a phone call.”
I run to Mom and Dad’s room and pick up the other handset. “Got it,” I call down to her as I press the on button. “Hello?”
“We need to talk, cheerleader,” a guy says in a voice that is unmistakable.
“Dan?”
“Yeah, it’s Dan, who the hell else did you think it was? Surely not Logan, because from what I’ve heard things aren’t going so well in that department.”
So Logan is mad. I knew it. All the more reason to cut ties and leave the poor guy alone. “What do you want?”
“Like I said, we need to talk. Face to face. Come on over so we can settle this.”
“Um, I can’t today. Maybe—”
“Oh, no you don’t, you can’t pull the wool over my eyes. It’s like my dear old MeeMaw always says, ‘You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.’”
He’s probably going to yell at me for messing with Logan’s head. And justly so. I should do what I do best: hide. But I feel like I owe Logan more than that. If I’m in for a session of “dog the cheerleader” then I should own it.
“Fine.”
“Fine. See you in an hour.” He hangs up.
I throw on a T-shirt and shorts and head downstairs, hoping I’ll make it out of the house and over to Dan’s before anyone notices I’m gone.
“Good morning, my beautiful daughter,” Mom says and I nearly jump out of my skin. “You never really told me how your date went yesterday.”
“It was fine.” I’m getting real tired of that word. It’s a nothing word, and when people say it, it never really means what it’s supposed to.
“Just fine? Where did y’all go?”
“Bowling.”
“That sounds like fun. You used to love the bowling alley when you were little.”
I just nod.
“And it was so nice that he came in to meet us. To be honest, I always hated that Eric never came in. Even Terra doesn’t come in very often. I was starting to worry you didn’t want people to meet us.” She laughs, and I have to turn around so she doesn’t see my cringe of guilt.
I don’t want Mom to