Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Long pause, then, “Duh.”
“Well…there’s been a development.” Yeah, yeah, I know I’m being vague here, but I’m so nervous and am bracing myself for her reaction.
“Yeah…” I can feel Jenna holding her breath. She stops braiding my hair, and I wiggle my head around to encourage her to begin again. “Oh, hell no. I’m not doing your hair unless you talk, so spill—and this had better be good.”
“He, um… Ugh.” I can’t get the words out. “A few days ago…he…”
“Spit it out, Molly!”
“A few days ago in the library, I caught him straight-up staring at me, staring at me hard—is that such a thing? Oh my god, then I caught him doing it in the hallway today before I smashed into Rick the Dick, so yeah, that’s it.” I blurt it all out in a long run-on sentence without taking a single breath.
The room is completely silent. Not even our cell phones interrupt with a text alert.
Neither of us are moving.
“Holy. Shit.” Jenna has my braid suspended above my head, and she’s staring down at me. Her eyes have gone huge. For a few minutes at least, she doesn’t say anything else. It’s taking all my focus not to fidget under her scrutiny. Finally, in a very low voice, she says, “Do you remember in eighth grade when we were playing Seven Minutes in Heaven and I got locked in with Kevin Dryer, and I not only let him make out with me but I also let him stick his hand up my shirt? I thought that was the best moment of my life.”
“Um…” Where is she going with this?
“This is so much better than that.”
I come back from grabbing snacks in the kitchen—correction: I come back from sneaking snacks in the kitchen—and Jenna is perched on the end of my bed, ready to pounce. The girl wants details and really only agreed to let me leave the room because I had to go to the bathroom. Otherwise I would have been held hostage.
This behavior, quite honestly, goes all the way back to middle school, back to when Jenna used to write this little column for the school newspaper. I think it was called Seen and Heard in the Halls, and it was basically a little gossip column. Of course she acted more like a reporter for the New York Times than for the Raven Middle School Gazette—even back then she took herself way too seriously.
“Okay, so, as you were saying, you were in the library, and you could feel him stripping you naked with his eyes.” She has her fingertips folded into steeples, and they’re pressing against her chin.
“No, that’s not what I said. If you’re going to twist everything around to make it sound tawdry, just forget it. I’m not telling you anything.”
“All right! All right, I’ll stop.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I pinky promise.” She looks sincere, but with her it’s so hard to tell. I take it one step further by screwing up my face and threatening her with a knuckle sandwich. It’s too bad my fist looks so puny.
“I swear by all that is holy, Jenna, I don’t mind if you say anything, but if you exaggerate or make shit up, I will tell your mom you took her Gucci purse to school the week she was on vacation, and that you spilled Pepsi on it during lunch and that you had to have it dry cleaned.”
Jenna’s skin blanches a little.
Her mom takes her designer bags very seriously.
“Molly! I promise. And you know what? Kudos to you for trying to blackmail me…” She tips her head to the side thoughtfully. “So, okay. What were you wearing in the library when he was eying you up?”
I set the pretzels I’ve been holding on the bed and crack open a sparkling water. It’s lemon flavored and is apparently my mom’s new favorite beverage, because there’s a whole case of it in the pantry.
I take a sip then sputter, “Ugh, this is so gross! How do people drink it?”
Jenna snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Molly, the library. What were you wearing?”
“Huh? Oh. Um, I think I was wearing a jean skirt—the short one my mom hates—and my Boston Bruins T-shirt.”
In case you’re not up on your hockey trivia, the Bruins won themselves the Stanley Cup last year. Another interesting fact about me: I am a closet hockey fan. Now, before you start jumping down my throat, let me clarify, I am a fan of professional hockey, not the student-athlete variety. I won’t bore you with the details, because it’s common knowledge that my brother Matthew is a senior playing for the Wisconsin Badgers.
What’s not common knowledge: my cousin Travis plays for the Pittsburgh Penguin, an NHL team. My parents have always been fanatics when it comes to hockey, but now that their nephew plays in the “big league” and their son plays for a Big Ten school, they’re psycho about it.