backpack, which lay innocently in the corner of my bedroom. “You had to have found something. I mean, you searched her entire room, right?”
It was a Friday night, and until a few hours earlier, I had sat on my bed, tearing through the last novel on my summer reading list. To be honest, it was an act of desperation. For the past month, all I could think about was Ellie and our kiss. And the only thing that seemed to get my mind off it was reading. It was like my mom said: Sometimes, the only way to get off one distraction is get on another. Just pick something that might do you a bit more good.
So far, all that my thinking about Ellie had done was create a lot of anxiety. At least with the reading, I’d be ahead in school. I was just about to reach the climax of the novel when Lola showed up. She was dressed entirely in black, her long brown hair twisted up into a tight bun. This was not her usual look. Lola preferred short skirts and loose curls.
“What’s up with the outfit? Aren’t you supposed to be at your dad’s?”
“He forgot. Again.” She sat on the edge of my bed and unloaded her overnight bag, which had two walkie-talkies, a flashlight, and a pair of binoculars. Then she explained her plan.
Afterward, she looked at me, her eyes intense, and said, “So, are you in or out?”
I stared at her blankly. I couldn’t tell if she was serious about breaking into Ellie’s house. But if she was, she had it all figured out. Somehow she knew that Ellie’s parents had left that afternoon to attend a medical conference in Baltimore. Your sister mentioned it at dinner two nights ago. That Tommy, Sarah, and Ellie would be at the movies. Again, at dinner. That the spare key to Ellie’s house was hidden beneath a faux frog in their yard. Remember? I saw Jake use it that one time he got locked out.
“I just need you to stand guard, and I’ll do the rest,” she said.
From what I gathered, “do the rest” meant her searching Ellie’sroom for something that could potentially destroy her—a diary, incriminating photo, or medical proof she had some sort of STD.
“Have you been watching Gossip Girl again?” I asked.
“Very funny.” Her eyes narrowed. “She’s a bitch. And you want to know what? I asked Tommy today about what she said, and he said it wasn’t true. Not any of it.”
I watched a bit of pain shoot across her face. “Tommy’s a liar,” I said. “Besides, how would Ellie know about any of it if he hadn’t told her?”
She shrugged, unconcerned with the details, as if Tommy’s word was enough. “Maybe she was spying?”
“On you and Tommy?” I asked incredulously. She had really gone off the deep end if she even believed that was possible.
“We were spying on Tommy and Sarah. What’s the difference?” she said, as if this proved her point. “So are you going to help me or not?”
She was determined, and I knew that with or without me, she was going in. There was no time to warn Ellie, and the only other option was to tell my mom, but I couldn’t imagine ratting Lola out that way. I searched my mind for other possibilities and came up with only one.
“I’ll help you,” I said, “but only if I go in alone .”
She opened her mouth to protest, but I held up a hand tosilence her. “Just wait. Okay? I know the house better than you do. I’ll be faster and have less of a chance of getting caught.”
I didn’t add that I wanted to go in. That the idea excited me more than I’d care to admit.
She considered this for a while, but still seemed reluctant.
“It’s the only way I’ll help you,” I said.
Twenty minutes later I stood inside Ellie’s room, flashlight in hand. It was weird standing there, dressed in Lola’s black leotard and leggings, running my hands freely across Ellie’s desk. I felt a series of conflicting emotions: guilty and happy, brave and cowardly. Mostly, I felt changed.
Until a month ago, I had never kissed anyone, I had never lied to Lola,
It was a Friday night, and until a few hours earlier, I had sat on my bed, tearing through the last novel on my summer reading list. To be honest, it was an act of desperation. For the past month, all I could think about was Ellie and our kiss. And the only thing that seemed to get my mind off it was reading. It was like my mom said: Sometimes, the only way to get off one distraction is get on another. Just pick something that might do you a bit more good.
So far, all that my thinking about Ellie had done was create a lot of anxiety. At least with the reading, I’d be ahead in school. I was just about to reach the climax of the novel when Lola showed up. She was dressed entirely in black, her long brown hair twisted up into a tight bun. This was not her usual look. Lola preferred short skirts and loose curls.
“What’s up with the outfit? Aren’t you supposed to be at your dad’s?”
“He forgot. Again.” She sat on the edge of my bed and unloaded her overnight bag, which had two walkie-talkies, a flashlight, and a pair of binoculars. Then she explained her plan.
Afterward, she looked at me, her eyes intense, and said, “So, are you in or out?”
I stared at her blankly. I couldn’t tell if she was serious about breaking into Ellie’s house. But if she was, she had it all figured out. Somehow she knew that Ellie’s parents had left that afternoon to attend a medical conference in Baltimore. Your sister mentioned it at dinner two nights ago. That Tommy, Sarah, and Ellie would be at the movies. Again, at dinner. That the spare key to Ellie’s house was hidden beneath a faux frog in their yard. Remember? I saw Jake use it that one time he got locked out.
“I just need you to stand guard, and I’ll do the rest,” she said.
From what I gathered, “do the rest” meant her searching Ellie’sroom for something that could potentially destroy her—a diary, incriminating photo, or medical proof she had some sort of STD.
“Have you been watching Gossip Girl again?” I asked.
“Very funny.” Her eyes narrowed. “She’s a bitch. And you want to know what? I asked Tommy today about what she said, and he said it wasn’t true. Not any of it.”
I watched a bit of pain shoot across her face. “Tommy’s a liar,” I said. “Besides, how would Ellie know about any of it if he hadn’t told her?”
She shrugged, unconcerned with the details, as if Tommy’s word was enough. “Maybe she was spying?”
“On you and Tommy?” I asked incredulously. She had really gone off the deep end if she even believed that was possible.
“We were spying on Tommy and Sarah. What’s the difference?” she said, as if this proved her point. “So are you going to help me or not?”
She was determined, and I knew that with or without me, she was going in. There was no time to warn Ellie, and the only other option was to tell my mom, but I couldn’t imagine ratting Lola out that way. I searched my mind for other possibilities and came up with only one.
“I’ll help you,” I said, “but only if I go in alone .”
She opened her mouth to protest, but I held up a hand tosilence her. “Just wait. Okay? I know the house better than you do. I’ll be faster and have less of a chance of getting caught.”
I didn’t add that I wanted to go in. That the idea excited me more than I’d care to admit.
She considered this for a while, but still seemed reluctant.
“It’s the only way I’ll help you,” I said.
Twenty minutes later I stood inside Ellie’s room, flashlight in hand. It was weird standing there, dressed in Lola’s black leotard and leggings, running my hands freely across Ellie’s desk. I felt a series of conflicting emotions: guilty and happy, brave and cowardly. Mostly, I felt changed.
Until a month ago, I had never kissed anyone, I had never lied to Lola,
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