From Bad to Cursed by Katie Alender

him. As soon as I said it, I meant it. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against his sleeve.
    “You’re coming this afternoon, right?” he asked.
    “What?”
    “To my poster party?”
    “Refresh me on what a poster party is again?”
    “A campaign thing. Zoe Perry arranged it. She’s the girl I was talking to at the party for like a half hour. Keaton Perry’s little sister.”
    I tried to remember her, but I couldn’t recall her face, just a voice and a bunch of political buzzwords: alignment, empowerment, proactivity. “The boring one?”
    He laughed. “I hope not. What would that say about me?”
    “That you’re good at humoring boring people?”
    “Anyway, I need you there. I can’t be alone with her and her friends. They seem to be confusing high school politics with real politics.”
    I put my hand on his shoulder. “I can’t come.”
    “Seriously? Why not?”
    Honesty is the best policy, right? “I’m hanging out with my sister and her friends.”
    The corner of his mouth went up in confusion. “The Sunshine Club?”
    I shrugged. “You don’t have to call them that.”
    “Why not? Everyone does. They’re like a cult.” His shoulders pressed back. “And when did you decide this? Because I asked you about the party last week and you said yes.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I forgot. Any other day except today. I need to do this for Kasey. She’s having some problems fitting in.”
    “Are you joking?” he asked. “Does that look like someone having problems fitting in?”
    I followed his gaze to the picnic tables, where the Sunshine Club had claimed a spot under the mottled shade of the school’s big oak tree. They sat close together, like sisters, talking and laughing among themselves. And Kasey was right smack in the center.
    “You don’t understand,” I said. And he couldn’t. Because if he knew the truth, he’d flip out.
    “Maybe I don’t,” he said. “You’re one of the people who really wanted me to run for president this year, and now you’re disappearing when my campaign needs you.”
    “I’m not disappearing,” I said. “I’m missing one little arts and crafts party thrown by a bunch of boring preps.”
    His laugh had no humor behind it. “Thanks, Lex. I love being called names.”
    Just like I love being expected to make campaign appearances like some lame wifey with no life of her own. “That’s not what I meant!”
    “Okay, well, I wish you could stop saying things you don’t mean. Like that I’m one of a million boring preps—or that you’ll spend time with me.”
    “Where’s all this coming from?” I asked.
    “I guess I don’t like being lied to,” he said.
    “Who’s lying?”
    He enumerated on his fingers. “You said you’d come today. You’re not going to. You say it’s because Kasey is having problems. She’s clearly not. If you’re somehow suddenly too cool to help with my campaign, I wish you’d just say it.”
    “I’ve never been too cool for anything in my entire life,” I said, bristling at the accusation of lying. “I forgot about the stupid party, Carter. Sue me!”
    “All right,” he said. “When you can clear some time between cult meetings, let me know.” He checked his watch. “I have to go find Zoe and tell her we’ll need extra help.”
    “Stop. Please. I hate this,” I said, reaching out to him. “Can’t we just not be angry?”
    “I’m not angry, Lex…I’m sad.” And he walked away.
    We spent the morning exchanging terse text messages.
    First, I apologized, and he said he accepted it.
    The rational, grown-up thing to do would be to let it go. But I could feel the tension behind his words. So I texted him back that he didn’t have to accept my apology, and he replied that I was the one who couldn’t accept that he could accept it perfectly well…and then my fourth-period teacher made me put my phone away.
    We managed about twenty words between us during lunch. Nobody noticed. Emily would