Goldfish by Nat Luurtsema

much worse!”
    â€œYes, it is. If someone rejects you who has seen your butt, it’s extra hurtful.”
    â€œI’m never going to take my clothes off in front of anyone ,” I say emphatically.
    We get out of the car.
    â€œWait, Dad, was that the sex talk? It was a little brief.”
    â€œIt was efficient! In ten seconds I turned one of my girls into a nun.”
    â€œHa. Good luck with the other one.”

 
    chapter 15
    You got dumped?! Weez, you’re having real Boy Trouble now. Are you honestly never going to take your clothes off in front of anyone? I guess you won’t have to buy matching underwear so there’s a saving! Your mom said when she joined match.com she bought so much lingerie, they knew her by name in Victoria’s Secret!
    HANNAH! I have to wash my brain now!
    Sorry. Forget I ever said that. How are your folks?
    Good. Think I’ll keep them. How are yours?
    Ugh. If I find a receipt, I’m getting a refund. SO MUCH PRESSURE! If it wasn’t for you and Candy Crush I’d chuck my phone and get some peace.
    I trudge into school the next day feeling like I have DUMPED written on my forehead. Typical, Dad drops me off just as Roman and Gabe’s mom does the same. Displaying the sort of perfect timing they can’t achieve in a swimming pool, I think to myself and smirk meanly.
    They don’t say hi. No matter, they never did anyway. Gabe and I make eye contact and he gives me a fleeting smile. Between him and Melia, I’ve got two secret, silent “friends.” My birthday party will be a riot.
    I take my phone out—nothing. Hannah and I are talking a bit more, but nothing on WhatsApp. Dad’s sent me a photo of his most recent job rejection. Dear Murk, it begins.
    Only the coolest people get dumped, he writes underneath. Lots of love and best wishes, Murk Brown. (Do I sound like a paint color?)
    As in, “We’re going to paint the toilet Murk Brown”? I reply. Yes.
    I sit by myself in physics—Operation: Make Friends is on hold for now. For once I don’t mind having no one to talk to; I’m not in the mood to chat. I get out my physics book and doodle on it a list of reasons why it’s for the best that I’m not working with the boys anymore.
    1. I don’t have to worry about being cool in front of them. (Hanging out with these boys is stressful—I always worry I’m about to reveal how lame my life is. E.g. when they talk about parties and I have nothing to contribute except the funny thing that happened when Mom and I went to the car wash. A dog walked through it and came out soapy. It was hilarious and I tell it well, but it’s a tragic insight into what I do on a Friday night.)
    2. More free time? (Oh, whoopee.)
    3. No more money. Hmm. More space in my wallet?
    Once morning classes are done, I head off to the cafeteria. Standing in the line I notice that Melia is behind me, and without Cammie for once.
    I decide to turn around and smile at her, and if she smiles back, I will upgrade this smile to a chat. Then from a chat we’ll move toward eating lunch together. Then I’ll just be a hop, skip, and a jump from a sleepover! And then we’ll kick Cammie out of school and everyone will be happier without her. ( Cue music and balloons. )
    OK, better not get ahead of myself. First I have to trick Melia into chatting with me and enjoying my company. I swivel around and realize I’m too close, like I’m swooping in for a kiss.
    I step back and open my mouth to say, “Hey!” or “How’s it going?” or “What up, dawg?” (Probably not the last one.)
    But she’s looking down at her phone. I know she’s seen me turn around for this brilliant chat we were about to mutually enjoy, but she’s ignoring me.
    I bet she’s scared Cammie or Nicole or Amanda will see us talking and make fun of her. I bet that’s it. I can even see her give a glance