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The desire to speed to Ashlyn’s was strong, but the last thing she needed was another ticket. After what seemed like twice the normal time it took to usually get there, Summer pulled up to the beige rancher.

When her best friend opened the door, her eyes were rimmed in red. Since Summer had recently taken to crying all the time, she knew the look all too well. “What happened?” she asked.

“My mother and I got into a huge fight.”

Summer’s heart dropped. So many bumps already lined the road to Ashlyn and her mom’s reconciliation. “What about?”

“She found out I was taking these diet pills. I thought she’d be happy.”

“You’re taking diet pills?” Summer hardly recognized her own voice, it was so high. “Those are so dangerous.”

Ashlyn crossed her arms. “Now you sound like my mother. I should’ve known you wouldn’t understand. You don’t have to work to be skinny.”

“Ash, I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t want you to do anything that would harm your body.”

“Seriously, did my mother call and run lines with you?”

Summer took a deep breath, working to find the right response. “Okay, you vent. I’ll listen. Just let it all out.”

“Let’s go to my room.” Once they got to Ashlyn’s room, she talked about how hard she’d worked to lose weight and how she’d turned to the diet pills when she got desperate. “So Mother found them in my purse and had a conniption. She said all the stuff you did, claiming they weren’t safe, and that she wanted me to lose weight the healthy way, not the cheating way. I told her that the healthy way wasn’t working, then she said it was because I was lazy.” Tears filled Ashlyn’s eyes and her voice rose a couple octaves. “That I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

“That’s where my opinion is different,” Summer said. “You’re not lazy. I know that for a fact. You drag my butt into the water on a regular basis, and I can hardly keep up.”

Ashlyn shook her head. “I wheeze the whole time, though. I thought if I could get some of the weight off, exercising wouldn’t be such a pain and I could finish the so-called healthy way.”

“Seriously, I think you’re fabulous the way you are.”

“That’s because you’re skinny. It’s easy for you to say because no one’s ever called you fat. My own mother does.”

Summer felt her blood pressure slowly rising. “She said you’re fat?”

“She doesn’t have to say it. She says it with her actions and her disappointed expressions. With every low-fat meal she shoves at me and every pointed mention of exercise.”

Summer locked eyes with Ashlyn, wanting to be sure this came across. “When I look at you, I see my best friend. I never even thought it was possible to be so close to someone in such a short time. To me, that’s more important than anything else. And I honestly think you’re beautiful just the way you are.”

“What did you think when you first met me, though?”

“I thought that I really wanted to get to know you.” It was an honest answer, but only halfway honest. Summer had judged Ashlyn—had thought about her weight. That memory slapped her across the face now. “I know I’ve been judgmental before. A few months ago, I might’ve even joined in with the other girls to make fun of Darren and Aaron—probably the whole group—and I’m ashamed of that. I decided to change who I was, and I hope I’m doing that. I know I won’t be perfect, that I’ll occasionally slip. But I want to make it clear again that I think you’re really pretty. Obviously Matt does, too.”

Ashlyn studied Summer a moment before giving her half a smile. “So you don’t regret your decision to join The Misfits?”

“Not for a second. Earlier today at practice, I even told Kendall that I’d rather be in the Reject Group, knowing that they have my back, than have fake friends who turn on me. If anything, I regret my decision to ever get caught up with her group in the first place. I’m not going to lie, certain aspects were nice, but I think I lost myself along the way. So much so, that I didn’t remember who I really was until I met you.” The memory of Aaron and Darren trying to teach her how to play chess today at lunch hit her, and she smiled. “Until I learned more about chess than I ever wanted to know.”

Ashlyn’s smile deepened. “Who knew such a cool girl was hidden among the snobby airheads?”

“I’d say something about that, but I’m trying not to be judgmental. So I’ll just say that I’m sure somewhere deep down, there are good things about those girls, too.”

“Wow, how very politically correct of you.” Ashlyn leaned back against the headboard of her bed. “You really told Kendall that you’d rather be in the Reject Group?”

“I did. I didn’t bother telling her that we prefer the title The Misfits. I’ll have to throw that in some other time.”

“I would’ve loved to see her face. I bet no one’s ever stood up to her before. That’s why she’s so mad.”

“It’s sad, though,” Summer said, and the wall she’d worked to build up around her heart cracked a bit. “Kendall and I used to be friends. Maybe not on the same level you and I are, but I never thought it would get this bad.”

“I’m glad you don’t give in and go back to them. That’s what most people would’ve done.”

Another wave of guilt crashed into Summer. If Gabriella hadn’t pushed her, would she have gone back? She certainly hoped not. At least she knew she wouldn’t ever go back now. And not just because Kendall wouldn’t let her.

Summer picked a stray thread off Ashlyn’s bedspread, not wanting to fight anymore, but not willing to let it go. “Now, I know this might make you mad, but as your friend, I’m going to go ahead and say it anyway. Your mom, as many faults as she might have, proved she loved you tonight. Even if it was in a slightly twisted and offensive way. That’s progress, right?”

Ashlyn heaved a sigh. “I guess. But really, really little progress.”

“When you cool off, you should tell her you appreciate her concern.”

“Let’s not get crazy. The woman did call me lazy.”

Something told Summer not to push. Not right now. “So are you gonna put on some tunes or what? I’m ready to dance it out.”

Ashlyn pushed herself to her feet. Like Summer, she bought mostly CDs so she could have the inserts that came in them. There was just something about holding the lyrics. “Oh, I know. I’ll blast My Chemical Romance. Mother hates it.”

So much for progress.

Chapter Twenty-One

Troy stood in front of his locker, looking as cute as ever. Possibly even cuter than normal. His gaze was on the book in his hands, his eyebrows drawn together. His lips—the same lips he’d pressed against hers yesterday—were pursed in concentration.

Usually she’d stroll right up and start talking, no thought about how she looked or if she’d sound stupid. Oh holy crap, I have no idea what to say to him now. She almost chickened out and fled the scene, but then she told herself he’d helped her out yesterday. So no matter how awkward, she needed to go talk to him. And try to figure out if the attraction was one-sided, which would totally suck. Even though she’d decided to approach him, her feet remained planted.

Just get it over already. Her heart picked up speed as she approached him, beating so fast she was slightly dizzy. “Good morning, Mister Bond.”

Why did my voice come out all squeaky? Two seconds in, and I’m already a wreck.