Matt sits next to me and leans against the trunk of my tree. “I can’t eat either. I’m still fucked up.” We got high yesterday after my Sunday morning shift at the café. We started on Friday after school, then stayed in some state of ecstasy the rest of the weekend. Lucy is on doubles at the hospital. There is a stomach flu going around, so they’re short staffed, which means no lies, nobody waiting up for me when I crawl into bed at dawn. It’s usually just Matt, Nick, and me. Sometimes K tags along, or Arnie if we’re going to a bonfire or someplace where there will be lots of people. I hate those nights. I hate being high in a crowd. I feel so exposed, although small talk is a lot easier when I’ve got tons of serotonin flowing through me. I’m almost fun to be around. Mostly it’s just me and Matt no matter where we go. Nick is always off somewhere doing popular-people things. I really don’t mind. Matt is fun to be around, high or not.

The yard is filling up. I see all the usuals at Matt’s table. Heather, her minions, a few jocks, but no Nick. Matt must see me looking for him and volunteers that he had to meet with his counselor. As much as I adore Nick, sometimes I just need a time-out. Being Nick Marino’s girlfriend is equal parts bliss and horror. I’m on the hit list of every girl that ever wanted to hook up with him. It’s sort of like being hunted by terrorists. You never know when they will strike or how. The first couple of days were bad. I was pushed down a flight of stairs. Ok, the last two stairs, but still. Someone wrote slut across my locker, which Matt quickly painted over. And to top it off, everyone thinks Nick and I have slept together, because why else would he want someone like me unless I was the world’s best fuck? Nick assures me that nobody has the nerve to mess with me now that we are official. Ok, so maybe I’m not going to get jumped on my way to school. But I still have to deal with how I dress and the state of my hair on a daily basis. I don’t know what’s worse, having some random girl kick my ass, or having a group of girls laugh at me because I don’t know how to apply eye shadow.

“Let’s get out of here.” I sit up and look at Matt. “I’m about to graduate, and I’ve never ditched school.”

Matt just shrugs. Like finding out I’m a dork that’s never ditched school doesn’t surprise him. “I don’t know. I kind of like your tree. I wish I would’ve noticed it sitting here a little sooner. This tree and I could have had some good times.” He looks angelic and totally at peace as he closes his eyes and lifts his face towards the midday sun. I elbow him in the side and make a little whining sound. He opens one eye and turns his face towards me. “You’re really serious?”

My heart does a double back handspring when I see the adorable look on Matt’s face. I don’t understand why things like this happen when I’m around Matt. I think it’s because I’ve never had a guy friend. I confuse Matt’s friendly smile, his innocent touch, with something else. Matt has never given me any reason to think he’s interested in anything more than my friendship. The inappropriate thoughts that sometimes cross my mind when I’m high are just moments of weakness on my part. “I’m totally serious. Let’s do it. Let’s ditch.”

“Alright, let me text Nick.” He pulls out his phone and starts to type.

Oh yeah, Nick. Matt and I spend a lot of time together. Nick is always going off to run an errand for his grandmother or to say hi to a family friend. When we’re high, Matt is my partner in crime. We go on adventures at the beach, searching for starfish or talking dolphins. We have philosophical discussions about the amount of water left on the earth, the utter failure of our judicial system when it comes to white-collar crime, and the best way to eat ice cream. I say cup, he says cone. Not even a sugar cone; he likes the old-school flat bottom kind that are a cross between cardboard and Styrofoam. I always have fun with Matt. I feel like I can let loose and be myself with him. My real self. When Nick is around, everyone is always so serious. Nick brings out the grown-up in all of us. Don’t get me wrong, I love being around Nick, especially when we’re alone. When Nick and I carve out some time on your own in the dark, talking and goofing around is the last thing we do. Soon the rumors about me sleeping with Nick will become justified. I just hate that my sex life is something people are placing bets on. If this is what it’s like to be popular, then I consider myself lucky to have lived in the shadows as long as I did. I would happily return there, if Nick would join me.

Nick texts Matt right back. “It’s on. We’re meeting him in the parking lot in ten minutes.” Matt stands and helps me up. “Be cool, I don’t want Arnie following us out.” One thing thizz hasn’t changed is my feelings for that jerk. I try to walk through the quad like nothing is up, but the excitement of cutting school feels kind of like a thizz rush. It makes it impossible to wipe the smile from my face.

We’re almost to the door when Arnie spots us. “Hey Matt, where you going?”

I swear the entire yard goes silent.

“Nowhere.” Matt shrugs. “I’ll be right back.” He pushes me forward and I stumble into Heather.

She turns around with a murderous look in her eye. When she sees me standing behind her, she steps back and smiles. “Sorry, Dani,” she apologizes. Heather King is apologizing like she was in my way and not vice versa. What planet are we on?

I step around her, waiting for one of her minions to grab me by my ponytail and swing me across the quad. Instead they offer identical smiles in their matching Eureka High Cheer uniforms. They look like three smiling, cheering, blonde-bots whose mood switches have been set to nice. It isn’t just Heather and her clique. Everyone is always smiling at me, saying good morning, offering me gum. All of sudden I exist. Not as myself. I am Nick Marino’s girlfriend. Most days I don’t mind playing that role.

Matt pulls on my arm and I follow him into the building. I don’t have time to process how I feel about my newfound popularity. I have school to ditch. “Let’s go.” Matt breaks into a jog and I keep pace beside him. We run through the main hall, towards the parking lot, and right into Principal Leigh.

“Mr. Augustine, where are you off to?” She steps towards us, wearing a drab gray pantsuit and granny heels.

“Uh, nowhere, just going for a run.” Matt looks at me and we burst into laughter.

Principal Leigh does not. “Well, there’s no running in the halls. I suggest you go back to the quad.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Matt starts back to the yard and I follow behind him.

We walk into the yard, unnoticed this time.

“That was an epic fail,” I say as I plop back against my tree.

Matt sits beside me. “You suck at ditching.”

“That’s probably why I never tried it before.” I crack open my diet soda and take a sip, then offer it to Matt. He takes a drink, hands it back, and says he better text Nick and tell him to abort the mission. Oh yeah, Nick.

Tuesday is a little better than Monday. By Thursday I’m almost back to normal. It doesn’t matter, because today is Friday and we are starting all over again. I hop out of bed fifteen minutes early and take a quick shower. I can’t wait to get this day started. Friday is thizz day.

I dry my hair using something Lucy calls the scrunching method, where I crush my hair in my hand like a stress ball. It brings out the natural waves in my hair. Weird, right? But it works. I open my new bottle of foundation and dab little dots on my face. Lucy was off on Thursday night and Nick had some family business to deal with, so I let my shopaholic aunt take me to the mall. We spent an hour at the make-up counter, where the quirky sales girl guaranteed the hundred dollars’ worth of product we bought would give me the fresh, natural look I was going for. I also bought new jeans and a couple of tops that looked good on the mannequins (on me they’re alright). I’ve lost about ten pounds since I moved here. Lucy calls it a stress diet. Johnson calls it bad cooking. My new body is still curvy, but in the good way now. Caring about my appearance has taken some getting used to, but, hello, Nick Marino can’t have a slob for a girlfriend. If that means upping my personal hygiene game, then I’m all over it. The hair and make-up aren’t just for Nick. Giving a shit about my appearance makes me feel better about myself in a totally non-superficial way.