CHAPTER 14

BY FRIDAY, DAY FIVE OF JAY’S EVASION OF VIOLET, she was starting to feel abandoned for good. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have other friends, but it just so happened that he was her favorite one. Besides, it was hard seeing him all day long, sitting so close to him in classes and passing him in the hallways, unable to talk to him. She supposed she could try, but the idea that he might give her the silent treatment in return was devastating to Violet, and she wasn’t quite willing to set herself up for that kind of rejection.

Story of my life, she thought miserably. She was never willing to put herself out there.

She bit into her apple just as Chelsea was sitting down beside her at the lunch table.

“Where’s new-Jay?” Chelsea asked, unable to let the joke die. She’d been singing that same ol’ song for the past week, and every time she did, it bugged Violet a little bit more. That was probably why Chelsea hadn’t given it up yet; she could probably smell Violet’s irritation.

Instead of correcting Chelsea, yet again, Violet looked around the cafeteria and realized that Grady was nowhere to be seen. That was a first, at least in the space of the past five days, and Violet found it strange that she hadn’t even noticed his absence.

Violet shrugged in answer to Chelsea’s question.

She felt a mild pang of sadness for Grady, who had been running around in circles in an effort just to be near her. But more than any regret she had over Grady’s misplaced affections, she was grateful for the moment of peace.

At least it had been peaceful…until Chelsea sat down.

It wasn’t long before Jules and Claire were joining them.

“Where’s new-Jay?” Jules asked, and then she and Chelsea exchanged a look and started cracking up at their own joke.

Even Claire, who was generally so serious about everything, giggled a little.

Violet rolled her eyes. “How long did it take you geniuses to plan that little gem?” she accused her friends, which only made them laugh harder. She shook her head. “You two are idiots,” she said, biting into her apple again and deciding to ignore them.

“Which is it, Violet?” Claire asked. “Are they geniuses or idiots?”

Chelsea leaned into Jules now, laughing so hard at their stupid joke that no sound was even coming out of her mouth anymore.

Violet looked from Chelsea to Jules and then back to Claire. “Idiots,” she stated flatly.

There was another long moment as the Two Stooges struggled to regain their composure.

“Come on, Vi. If we can’t joke about new-Jay, who can we joke about?” Chelsea asked, finally getting herself under control. She used a paper napkin to dab at her watering eyes.

“Joke about whatever you want,” Violet stated as blandly as possible. “It’s not your fault you’re not funny.”

“Oh, I’m funny all right. I’m freakin’ hilarious. You’re the one who’s lost her sense of humor,” Chelsea lobbed back at her.

Violet was about to argue the point with Chelsea, but her comeback got lost in her throat when she saw Jay walking in.

“Oh, look, there’s old-Jay,” Claire said nonchalantly. “And he’s with Lissie Adams.”

Violet had seen that too.

They walked in like they were old friends. Jay was smiling down at Lissie while he carried his tray of food. Lissie was walking as close to him as she could get and still maintain her balance. Lissie’s best friend, a girl who had spent her entire high school career being socially eclipsed by Lissie’s über-popularity, seemed content to be trailing behind the two of them. As a couple, Jay and Lissie looked like they’d been clipped from the pages of a Hollywood gossip magazine, with their faultless good looks and their perfect smiles. Lissie even had her own entourage. The only thing missing was the red carpet.

But they weren’t a couple, Violet argued to herself, were they?

Violet’s chest suddenly felt heavy, crushed beneath the weight of her own unanswered questions. What if they were a couple now? What if her stupid stunt at the mall last weekend had pushed Jay far enough away that he’d replaced her with Lissie? Had that really been less than a week ago?

What if she’d lost her chance with him?

As if there’d ever really been a chance for her at all.

Violet looked wistfully their way once more, wondering if she’d just been fooling herself. They were sitting side by side, at the table where Lissie sat every day with those she deemed good enough to be her friends. She was snuggled up against Jay and saying something that was obviously meant only for his ears.

He truly was a great guy; especially in the ways that really counted beyond his new gorgeous exterior where he was still Jay…smart, funny, sweet. Why had she never seen him more clearly before he’d metamorphosed into the very image of hotness that every girl in school was catfighting one another just to get close to?

But he wasn’t perfect, she reminded herself as she watched him sitting at Lissie’s table. He was incredibly stubborn and pigheaded. Plus, she didn’t miss the way he stole the remote when they watched TV or how he always ate all of her chips at lunch. At least she tried to tell herself she didn’t.

He never looked up from his conversation with Lissie. He didn’t even glance her way, although Violet was sure he knew she was there…sitting in the same old place, with the same old friends. While he tested his weight on the delicate ice of new and upwardly mobile social circles, she was still just the same old Violet.

Chelsea seemed to sense that this was no time for joking, and she backed off the new-Jay, old-Jay thing…at least for the moment. She put her arm around Violet. “Hey, don’t worry about them. Elisabeth Adams is no different from any other girl in school who’s been dying to get her claws in him. She’s shallow and boring,” Chelsea tried her best to reassure Violet. “She’s just another brainless cheerleader.”

“Besides,” Claire piped in, “I hear she’s a slut. I hear that she gives it up to all the guys. Half the football players call her ‘Kneepads,’ if you know what I mean.”

Of course she knew what Claire meant; how could she not understand the barely subtle innuendo? And why on earth did Claire think that that little tidbit of information would make Violet feel better?

Claire might have been the only one at the table who didn’t notice the icy glare and the scathing tone that Chelsea shot her way. “No way,” Chelsea disagreed. “Prissie Lissie is all that virginal, pure crap. She’s one of those girls who wears a promise ring to her daddy that she won’t give it up till she’s married or some shit like that. There’s no way that Jay could even get to third base with her tight, Christian ass.”

It was supposed to be a pep talk; Violet knew that and tried not to fault her for it. It was Chelsea’s way of showing her unconditional support for her friend. But somehow, Violet ended up feeling even worse than before. Now she couldn’t stop picturing Lissie and Jay making out in his mom’s car, with his hand beneath her shirt…rounding first base and heading for second. She felt sick.

That was definitely a mental image she could live without, and she wished at that moment that she could gouge out her own mind’s eye to make it go away.

“So, that pretty much settles it, Violet. You are definitely going out with us tonight,” Chelsea insisted. “Olivia Hildebrand throws the best parties, and you could use a night out. It’s BYOB, but I’m having my older sister buy for us, so if you just pitch in a coupla bucks I’ll take care of the booze.”

Violet had already told Chelsea that she didn’t want to go to the party. What she really wanted to do, all she could even imagine doing tonight, was putting on her most comfortable sweatpants and crawling into bed to watch old movies.

She started to object, but Chelsea interrupted her. “Trust me, Vi. Don’t sit around by yourself tonight. Tell your parents you’re staying at my house and we’ll go out and get stupid. Forget about Jay. Forget about Lissie.” She put on her best pout and gave Violet a doe-eyed look that was more sarcastic than serious. “Pretty, pretty plee-eease!”