He shrugged. “You don’t take your grades seriously.”
“I took us seriously,” I said.
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That made him flinch. “I’m sorry,” he said.
I pushed my chair away from the table. “Take me home.”
We drove back to my house in silence. Inside my head a whole orchestra of thoughts played out, competed with each other, blared so loudly I could hardly think.
He drove looking straight ahead and I caught a glimpse of his profile. I hated myself for still thinking his wavy black hair had the perfect amount of gloss to it, that he looked more like a knight preparing for battle than a high school senior. A girl shouldn’t have thoughts like that about the guy who just dumped her.
My throat felt tight and I willed myself not to cry. I wanted to point out all of Jane’s faults to him. She was the most unspontaneous person in existence. She had no imagination, no creativity. When we were bored as kids, could she come up with a decent game using a box of macaroni, a tube of toothpaste, and the kitchen table?
I think not.
I didn’t say anything though. I had enough pride not to beg him to reconsider. I just sat and listened to the orchestra in my mind playing loud and clear: your sister is better than you. Finally he pulled up in front of our house. Without a word I opened the car door, stepped outside, and slammed it shut.
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I didn’t walk across the lawn to our house; I walked down the sidewalk. I was not going inside. I didn’t want to talk to Jane right now, or hear the same type of apologies I’d just heard from Hunter.
Instead of driving off, Hunter pulled up alongside me and rolled down the car window. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t see why that concerns you.”
“If you don’t go inside, it will look like I never brought you home. Your family will wonder where you are.” What he meant was, Jane would worry where I was.
Heaven forbid she experience any guilt over this. “Well, you know me,” I told him. “I’m the irresponsible one.” He kept following me. The car inched along beside me going about two miles an hour. “Come on, Savannah, don’t be this way.”
I wasn’t supposed to have a reaction to this? I was just supposed to smile and wish them luck or something? I didn’t answer. I looked straight ahead and kept walking.
I had meant to go over to my best friend Emily’s house but I couldn’t go there with this one-car parade following me. When I came to the corner of our street I walked straight instead of turning right.
Hunter leaned toward me, a mild reprimand in his voice. “It’s dark and you didn’t even look for cars before you crossed.”
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“I didn’t have to. If a car was coming they’d have hit you first.”
He let out a sigh. “Get back in the car.” I kept walking.
“I mean it, Savannah. I’m not going to let you run off and upset everyone at your house because they don’t know where you are.”
Which just goes to show you how arrogant he was. He just assumed I’d planned on turning the night into a big production where I disappeared and Jane got to worry that I’d run away from home or something. Well, okay, maybe that did sound like a good idea, but still, it was arrogant of him to assume that sort of thing about me. I didn’t look at him. My purse thumped against my side in an angry rhythm.
“Savannah, get in the car.”
The park came into view. I picked up my pace.
“You’re being melodramatic about this.” Well, he could just add that to the list of my other faults he no longer had to put up with.
“I’m not leaving and I’ve got a full tank of gas.” Of course he did. Organized people always kept their tanks full.
I made it to the park and finally turned to him. “If you want to follow me, fine. Have fun driving through the swing sets.” I left the sidewalk and walked across the 41/431
grass. The park sat in the middle of our neighborhood, surrounded by houses, and more than a few streets ran up to it.
I didn’t have to look back to know what Hunter would do. He would sit in his car and watch me walk across the park until I headed toward a street. Then he’d drive around and head me off on that street.
I strolled toward the first street opening on the right.
Before I got out of sight I turned to check and see if his car had left. As soon as it had, I doubled back, walking the same way I’d come. Except that instead of walking home, I turned on Emily’s street. Really, Hunter was almost pathetically easy to lose. Which just goes to show you that college bound doesn’t necessarily mean street smart.
I stayed at Emily’s for the next three hours. Not really long enough to worry my parents. My curfew on week-days is 10:00 PM. If Jane knew I wasn’t with Hunter anymore and worried about me—fine. If she thought I was out with her new boyfriend until past 10:00—even better. I sat with Emily on her bedroom floor, cried, and ate Oreos. The whole time Emily told me what a great catch I was and how I didn’t need Hunter. What kind of jerk hits on his girlfriend’s sister? What kind of sister steals boyfriends from family members? They deserved each other.
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I nodded at everything she said but couldn’t agree with any of it. It felt like the people who knew me best didn’t care about me. In my mind, Hunter’s list of my faults kept growing. All of my popularity was a sham. I didn’t really have anything going for me. I was disorganized, irresponsible, and didn’t take my classes seriously.
Which probably showed a lack of ambition, talent, and dependability. Obviously there was something permanently wrong with me, something too huge to fix.
And on top of all that I had a cream silk and chiffon prom dress hanging in my closet that cost me three hundred and fifteen dollars. I didn’t want to return it to the dress shop. How humiliating would that be?
Emily must have sensed that her pep talk wasn’t working— probably because I kept making Oreo skyscrapers and shoving them in my mouth. She finally took the package away from me. “Savannah, someone else will ask you to prom. Someone better, someone who appreciates you, and then you’ll see Hunter was wrong.” I nodded. I still didn’t believe her.
When I walked into my house at 10:15, my parents and Jane sat in the family room talking in harsh, sub-dued voices. I knew they were talking about me because they stopped as soon as I walked in. Three faces turned toward mine. My parents’ expressions were concerned.
Jane’s showed a mixture of worry and defiance. She 43/431
didn’t speak. I knew she was waiting for my accusations; I could already see her lips poised in defense.
“You owe me three hundred and fifteen dollars for a prom dress,” I told her, then walked upstairs to my room.
• • •
I ate oatmeal without sugar the next morning as a sort of dietary penance for my Nabisco sins. I imagined the little oat flakes “tsk-tsking” as they floated by blobs of fat that were headed straight to my thighs. It was the only reason I could think of to be happy that I now had to walk to school. I wasn’t sure if Hunter would still drop by the house to offer me and Jane a ride, but there was no possible way I was going to get in the backseat and watch Jane sit beside Hunter. So it was just best to be long gone before he came.
While I ate, Mom tried to talk to me about the whole situation. She’d also tried last night, but I’d told her I was tired and just wanted to go to bed. Jane came into my room last night too and gave me her side of the story, which was pretty much like Hunter’s side of the story, except that her eyes didn’t look away from me as she told it. When I didn’t comment she added, as though it should explain everything, “Hunter and I will both be going to George Mason in the fall. You didn’t think that 44/431
a freshman in college was going to keep dating a junior in high school, did you?”