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And neither should he.

Somehow, though, his situation felt different. I glanced around the room, feeling stupid for even comparing it to the Duff issue. Then, without meaning to, I found myself asking, “But don’t you get lonely? In this big house by yourself.”

Oh my God. Was I actually feeling sorry for Wesley? Wesley the womanizer? Filthy-rich Wesley? Wesley the jackass? Of all the emotions I’d felt for him, sympathy had never come up. What the hell was going on?

But if there was anything I could relate to, it was family drama. So it seemed like Wesley and I had some stuff in common. Ugh.

“You forget how rarely I’m alone.” He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked at me with a smirk. It didn’t touch his eyes, though. “You aren’t the only one who finds me irresistible, Duffy. I usually have an endless flow of attractive houseguests.”

I bit my lip, not sure if I should say what was on my mind. Finally, I decided I might as well throw it out there. It wouldn’t do any harm, after all. “Listen, Wesley, this may sound weird coming from me, since I hate you and all, but you can tell me stuff if you want.” It sounded like something out of a cheesy G-rated movie. Great. “I mean, I vented all of my shit about Jake to you, so if you want to do the same,… well, I’m cool with that.”

The smirk slipped for a second. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he cleared his throat and added stiffly, “Didn’t you say that you needed to go home? You don’t want to be late for school.”

“Right.”

I started to stand, but his warm hand closed around my wrist. I turned around and found him looking at me. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. Before I even realized what was happening, he pulled away and whispered, “Thank you, Bianca.”

“Um… no problem.”

I didn’t know what to make of it. Every other time Wesley and I had kissed, it had been a fierce, warlike make-out. A lead-in to sex. He’d never kissed me in such a gentle, greedless way, and it kind of freaked me out.

But I didn’t have time to think about it as I ran down the stairs and through the foyer. Once I was in my car, I had to speed-which I really, really hate to do-all the way to my house, and I still didn’t get there before six. That gave me only an hour and a half to shower, get dressed, and check on Dad. What a fantastic way to start the morning.

Even better was the fact that I could tell the living room lights were on when I pulled into my driveway. Not a good sign. Dad always-always- turned out every light in the house before bed. He treated it like a ritual. The fact that he’d left them on was definitely a bad omen.

I heard the snoring as soon as I tiptoed inside and instantly knew he’d bought more beer. Even before I saw the bottles on the coffee table or his unconscious form on the couch, I knew.

He’d gotten drunk enough to pass out.

I started to move forward but stopped myself. As much as I might want to, I didn’t have time to clean up Dad’s mess. I needed to go upstairs. I needed to go to school. And as I crept up to my bedroom, I told myself that he would be fine. He was just shocked, it would be fine, and this… episode would pass without incident. I could hardly hold a few drinks against the guy, considering the bombshell Mom dropped on him, could I?

I took a quick shower and blow-dried my hair (which always takes forever; seriously, maybe I should just hack all my hair off like Casey instead of wasting my time) before putting on some fresh clothes. After I brushed my teeth, I headed downstairs again and went into the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart for the road. Then I took off, out the front door.

By the time I got to school, the student parking lot was almost full. I had to park in the very back row and jog-with my twenty-pound backpack-to the double doors. Of course that left me out of breath by the time I made it into the main hallway. God, I thought miserably as I lugged my fat ass toward Spanish, no wonder I’m the Duff. I’m so fucking out of shape it’s depressing.

Well, at least the halls were pretty much empty. That meant no one had to witness my patheticness.

“Hey, where’d you go yesterday?” Jessica asked when I slumped into my desk only seconds before the bell rang. “You weren’t at lunch or in English. Casey and I were kind of worried.”

“I left school early.”

“I thought the three of us were gonna have a Valentine’s Day thing to celebrate that we’re all single.”

“That’s kind of ironic, don’t you think?” I sighed and shook my head, trying not to look into her big, hurt eyes. God, she was good at making me feel guilty. And I knew I was going to pay for hanging up on Casey last night. “Sorry, Jessica. Something came up yesterday. I’ll tell you about it after school, okay?”

Before she could say anything, Mrs. Romali cleared her throat and shouted, “Silencio! Buenos días, amigos. Today we’re going to get started on the present progressive tense, and I’ll warn you now that it’s pretty darn difficult.”

And it was. Mrs. Romali passed out a worksheet that kept us all busy until the end of the block. By the time the bell rang, I was really starting to question my affection for Spanish class, and I wasn’t alone.

“Is it too late to switch classes for the semester?” Angela asked Jessica and me when we walked out of the classroom.

“About a month too late,” I told her.

“Damn it.”

“Bye, Bianca!” Jessica called as they ran toward their chemistry class. “See you at lunch!”

I waved and started walking down the other hallway. Today, though, I was actually looking forward to AP government. Toby Tucker had asked me to sit near him. I wouldn’t be the lonely girl in the back of the room anymore. I’d never thought that would change or that I would be so happy when it did. What can I say? The self-imposed isolation was finally beginning to bug me.

But Toby wasn’t there. His seat was completely, one hundred percent empty when I walked into the classroom (for once I was way early, the way Mr. Chaucer liked), and my heart kind of sank a little bit… or, you know, a lot. At least I didn’t have to sit alone. Jeanine practically dragged me to the front of the room, apparently lost without Toby to keep her entertained. She must have been disappointed that I wasn’t nearly as clever with political quips as her usual companion. All I could offer were a few sarcastic statements about the usefulness of the judicial system. God, I missed Toby.

So did Mr. Chaucer. He seemed to get bored with his own uninterrupted lecture, and he dismissed the class only halfheartedly when the bell rang, his lower lip sticking out like a toddler’s.

And they say teachers don’t play favorites.

I was relieved to be out of that classroom, which seemed cold without Toby’s enlightening commentaries, until I got into the cafeteria.

The lunch table wasn’t exactly a warm, loving environment that afternoon. Casey glared at me all through lunch, obviously pissed that I’d hung up on her the night before. But apparently not pissed enough to skip out on meeting Jessica and me after school to hear my excuses.

I’d promised to explain things after class. Of course, that meant the second the last bell sounded, they dragged me into an empty bathroom and started making demands like “Spill!” and “Out with it!” before I could take a single freaking breath.

I groaned and slid down the cold concrete wall to land in a sitting position on the floor. I hugged my knees loosely and said, “Okay, okay. So Mom showed up here yesterday afternoon.”

“Is she back from her trip?” Jessica asked.