“Her mom is insanely neurotic about appearances and her dad is never around. He works overseas or something, barely even calls when he’s traveling.”

I shrugged. Josh’s dad was a pilot and was gone for days at a time, but Josh wasn’t a jerk because of it. “So?”

“Everything has to be perfect in their world. Her room, her hair, her grades, everything. I’m over there nearly every day and the only things I have ever heard her parents say to her are ‘Why can’t you be as smart as your brother?’ and ‘Why can’t you be as pretty as your sister?’ Never once have I heard them say ‘Good job’ or ‘It’s okay, we love you the way you are.’ Not once. But you know what Alex says?”

I shook my head. Alex never said much of anything to me, with the exception of “Hey” whenever he came to pick up Maddy. So no, I had no idea what his take on Jenna was. And to be honest, I don’t think I actually cared.

“Alex says it’s a show. That they borrowed money from his parents last week to cover their mortgage.”

“She told you this?” I asked, amazed that Jenna would show any vulnerability to my sister.

“No, Alex did, but he made me swear not to tell anyone, so you can’t either.”

Who was I going to tell? Josh? I doubted he cared about Jenna’s personal life any more than I did, which was already very little. “So you’re saying it’s okay for somebody to be mean because they have crappy parents?”

Maddy sighed and tossed the TV remote aside. She was irritated, as if trying to explain her best friend’s motives to me was a chore. “No, Ella, I’m saying her life sucks. Dad doesn’t care whether I make the varsity team this year or if you end up valedictorian. And Mom doesn’t swallow a handful of pills just so she can get out of bed and put her makeup on each morning. Jenna’s the way she is because not being the best at everything isn’t an option for her. It’s the only way to get her parents’ attention, the only time her father ever acknowledges her existence.”

I didn’t buy that excuse three years ago when Maddy first fed it to me, and I wasn’t buying it now. Sure, maybe Jenna became self-centered, competitive, and mean to earn her father’s attention, but somewhere along the line it stopped being about her parents’ approval and became all about her.

“She’s your best friend,” the girl said to Jenna as she smoothed out the wrinkles in the center of the poster. “Don’t you think you should talk to her? I mean, maybe see if you can help?”

I smiled at her words. I may not have known who she was, but the way she quietly tried to defend me made me feel better and more at ease with some of my sister’s friends.

“Alex will make sure she’s okay,” Jenna replied as she adjusted one of the streamers so it didn’t cover the poster. “And, according to him, she’s steps away from a total breakdown. I’m supposed to give her some space and not bother her too much.”

She was right, I’d give her that. Since I’d come home from the hospital, I’d refused to leave the house, refused to see anyone but my parents and Alex. He’d been given depressed-Maddy duty. Jenna had called a million times the first few days, but I’d either let her calls go to voice mail or had Alex talk to her. The longer I refused to answer, the fewer calls came. Or so I thought at first. Then I realized the calls had kept coming, but they were now going to Alex’s phone and not Maddy’s.

“Wait. What? You’ve been talking to Alex? We asked him how she was doing, but he won’t tell any of us a thing. He keeps saying she’s fine. How did you get him to talk to you?”

“I’m her best friend, remember?” Jenna’s sarcasm had me wanting to reach through time and space to grab my sister and shake her. Maddy could have done better than this, she’d deserved a better friend than Jenna. “Plus, I have known Alex since first grade. I probably know him better than Maddy does. Of course he talks to me. About everything,” Jenna added.

I didn’t know Alex well, but I’d stake my life on the fact that he didn’t tell Jenna much of anything … not when it involved Maddy, anyway. He kept her secrets safe, protected her with a fierceness that almost made me jealous.

I watched as Jenna unrolled a giant poster, one that, from the looks of it, had been professionally printed. She had matching tape, too—the exact same shade as the pink block lettering she’d used to spell out her name.

“You sure that’s the best place for that?”

“Hallways are fair game,” Jenna said as she reached up and put her Snow Ball queen poster dead center above Maddy’s locker. “The only place we’re prohibited from soliciting votes is in the field house and the locker rooms, although—”

“I think you’re wasting your time. Maddy’s gonna get so many pity votes that you won’t be able to compete. I mean, she may look like crap, but who wouldn’t vote for her after what happened?”

“You, for starters,” Jenna said. I heard the calm threat in her voice. Somehow she’d figure out who would vote for her and who wouldn’t. For that girl, casting a vote for Maddy would be equal to social suicide.

“Besides,” Jenna continued, “Maddy can’t be the Snow Ball queen if she’s not going to the dance. Alex will only coddle her for so long, then eventually he’s gonna get tired of tiptoeing around her.”

My sister’s image, the one she had meticulously crafted, was being torn apart while I stood here hiding. I knew what Maddy would do. I knew without a doubt that she’d walk down that hall and call Jenna out. They’d argue and threaten each other with useless pieces of gossip, then come four o’clock, it’d be over. Whatever nasty words had passed between them would be forgotten and someone else’s misfortune would take the spotlight.

Not me. I’d quietly walk away without ever letting Jenna know I’d heard every backstabbing word that came out of her mouth. I’d plot and plan, sit at home and stew, rehash everything Jenna Fredricks had said about me, then I’d let it go. I’d pick up my sketchbook and lose myself in the drawing of a dead tree while I tried to forget that Jenna even existed.

20

I turned back the way I’d come, my head down, my mind completely focused on the texture and shade of the dead tree I was already sketching in my mind. No colored pencils for this picture. There was going to be nothing but black charcoal intermingled with gray smudges.

I felt someone’s hands reach out and brush my arm in an attempt to stop me before I plowed her over. It didn’t work, and I found myself staring up at Molly, my books scattered everywhere.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and quickly turned to look over my shoulder.

Molly shrugged and looked past me toward Maddy’s locker. I turned and followed her gaze, hoping to God Jenna wasn’t still standing there. The last thing I needed was an audience, an audience that Alex had insisted I play nice with.

“You okay?” she asked, her eyes still trained on Maddy’s locker.

“Yeah. I guess so.” I didn’t know whether she was referring to Jenna’s comments, the bathroom episode, or the accident in general. Probably a combination of all three. I quickly gathered my books and shoved them into my bag. “Were you … uh … listening to them?”

She nodded, and held out her hand to help me up. I took it, grateful that at least one of my sister’s friends didn’t seem to be completely self-absorbed.

Molly stood there staring at me, her lips parting as if she was debating whether or not to tell me something.

“What?” I said, wanting her to come out with it. I was tired of trying to piece things together, guessing my way through Maddy’s life. For once, I needed someone to tell me how it was.

“Nothing.”

I sighed and walked away, disgusted with myself for foolishly hoping one of Maddy’s friends could be honest.

“I ran into Jenna last weekend at the game.” The words spilled out of Molly’s mouth as if she wanted to say everything before she had a chance to change her mind. “They were standing outside by the field house. She didn’t see me there.”