flounces in, followed by a very perturbed looking Marissa. “Did you hook up with him?” Marissa asks.
“Sort of,” I say. Which isn’t really true. For all intents and purposes, I did hook up with him, but—
“Wait, hooked up with who?” Clarice wants to know.
“Nigel Rickson,” I say.
“You … you had
sex
with him?” Clarice exclaims, her blue eyes wide.
“No, God, I didn’t have sex with him! Do you not know me at all?”
“But you did hook up with him,” Marissa says.
“I kissed him,” I say. “That’s all. Although to be honest, he definitely wanted more.”
Clarice nods in agreement, like this makes perfect sense. “I heard he’s a premature ejaculator,” she says.
“Well,” Marissa says. “I guess if you knew how easy it was going to be, you would have done it years ago.”
“Not really,” I say. Although maybe I would have. I mean, if I’d known, with one hundred percent certainty that Nigel wouldn’t have turned me down, would I have? Tried to hook up with him? Maybe. Although it probably wouldn’t have led anywhere, since Nigel is pretty lame with all his gambling and “I don’t play that” nonsense. But I would have at least had fun.
Clarice is over at Isabella’s dresser, and she picks up one of her perfume bottles and spritzes it on her wrist.
“Don’t do that,” I say. “They’re not yours.”
“Like Isabella cares,” Clarice says, rolling her eyes. “She has about five million of them.” She points to the array of bottles littering the dresser.
“So what’s the plan?” Marissa asks. Her eyes are darting toward the door, and I can tell she wants to get back to Jeremiah. Jeremiah is kind of like a slippery fish; if you don’t keep a tight hold on him, he can slip right through your hands. At least until he gets horny again. Then he surfaces right back up.
“Clarice,” I say, standing up. “How can we get my notebook back?”
“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging.
I look at her blankly. “Didn’t you say you thought we should steal it back?”
“Oh my God,” Marissa says. “That is a
fabulous
idea.
You
came up with that?” She looks at Clarice like she can’t believe it.
“Well, yeah,” Clarice says. “But I don’t have a plan to do it or anything. I don’t even know where it is.”
Jeremiah sticks his head into the room. “Hey,” he says to Marissa. “Where did you disappear to?” He ignores me and Clarice. Wow. Way to be friendly. “Come back out to the living room, I need to show you something.” And then he’s gone.
Marissa looks at me, pleading. I sigh. She’s no use to me right now anyway. “Go,” I say, waving my hand. “I don’t care.”
She skips happily out the door.
“So what’s the plan?” Clarice asks once Marissa’s gone. She looks at herself in the mirror over Isabella’s dresser. She gets a very serious look on her face, and then she asks, “Eliza, do you think I’m ugly?”
“What?” I ask. I lie back on Isabella’s bed and wonder how this became my life. “No, Clarice, you are not ugly.” I can’t even begin to fathom that thought. Clarice has long blond hair and blue eyes and a very charming personality and guys fall all over themselves trying to hook up with her.
“Then why did Derrick kick me out of his apartment?”
“Um, because he’s a guy?” I try. Something tells me getting into the whole “you’re a tease” conversation right now isn’t the best idea.
“I guess,” Clarice says, abandoning her position at Isabella’s dresser. She moves over to her closet.
My phone starts beeping, and I pull it out. A text from Kate. “ HEY ,” she says. “ MOM AND DAD TOLD ME THEY’RE OUT OF TOWN, HOW’S IT GOING ?”
“ GOOD! ” I text back. “ AT A SUPER-FUN PARTY WITH CLARICE AND MARISSA. ”
Maybe I should tell my sister what’s going on. Maybe I should call her, let her know what the 318s are doing. Kate would definitely know what to do. Kate knows what to do
“Sort of,” I say. Which isn’t really true. For all intents and purposes, I did hook up with him, but—
“Wait, hooked up with who?” Clarice wants to know.
“Nigel Rickson,” I say.
“You … you had
sex
with him?” Clarice exclaims, her blue eyes wide.
“No, God, I didn’t have sex with him! Do you not know me at all?”
“But you did hook up with him,” Marissa says.
“I kissed him,” I say. “That’s all. Although to be honest, he definitely wanted more.”
Clarice nods in agreement, like this makes perfect sense. “I heard he’s a premature ejaculator,” she says.
“Well,” Marissa says. “I guess if you knew how easy it was going to be, you would have done it years ago.”
“Not really,” I say. Although maybe I would have. I mean, if I’d known, with one hundred percent certainty that Nigel wouldn’t have turned me down, would I have? Tried to hook up with him? Maybe. Although it probably wouldn’t have led anywhere, since Nigel is pretty lame with all his gambling and “I don’t play that” nonsense. But I would have at least had fun.
Clarice is over at Isabella’s dresser, and she picks up one of her perfume bottles and spritzes it on her wrist.
“Don’t do that,” I say. “They’re not yours.”
“Like Isabella cares,” Clarice says, rolling her eyes. “She has about five million of them.” She points to the array of bottles littering the dresser.
“So what’s the plan?” Marissa asks. Her eyes are darting toward the door, and I can tell she wants to get back to Jeremiah. Jeremiah is kind of like a slippery fish; if you don’t keep a tight hold on him, he can slip right through your hands. At least until he gets horny again. Then he surfaces right back up.
“Clarice,” I say, standing up. “How can we get my notebook back?”
“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging.
I look at her blankly. “Didn’t you say you thought we should steal it back?”
“Oh my God,” Marissa says. “That is a
fabulous
idea.
You
came up with that?” She looks at Clarice like she can’t believe it.
“Well, yeah,” Clarice says. “But I don’t have a plan to do it or anything. I don’t even know where it is.”
Jeremiah sticks his head into the room. “Hey,” he says to Marissa. “Where did you disappear to?” He ignores me and Clarice. Wow. Way to be friendly. “Come back out to the living room, I need to show you something.” And then he’s gone.
Marissa looks at me, pleading. I sigh. She’s no use to me right now anyway. “Go,” I say, waving my hand. “I don’t care.”
She skips happily out the door.
“So what’s the plan?” Clarice asks once Marissa’s gone. She looks at herself in the mirror over Isabella’s dresser. She gets a very serious look on her face, and then she asks, “Eliza, do you think I’m ugly?”
“What?” I ask. I lie back on Isabella’s bed and wonder how this became my life. “No, Clarice, you are not ugly.” I can’t even begin to fathom that thought. Clarice has long blond hair and blue eyes and a very charming personality and guys fall all over themselves trying to hook up with her.
“Then why did Derrick kick me out of his apartment?”
“Um, because he’s a guy?” I try. Something tells me getting into the whole “you’re a tease” conversation right now isn’t the best idea.
“I guess,” Clarice says, abandoning her position at Isabella’s dresser. She moves over to her closet.
My phone starts beeping, and I pull it out. A text from Kate. “ HEY ,” she says. “ MOM AND DAD TOLD ME THEY’RE OUT OF TOWN, HOW’S IT GOING ?”
“ GOOD! ” I text back. “ AT A SUPER-FUN PARTY WITH CLARICE AND MARISSA. ”
Maybe I should tell my sister what’s going on. Maybe I should call her, let her know what the 318s are doing. Kate would definitely know what to do. Kate knows what to do
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