Robin Constantine - The Promise of Amazing

“You both should be proud. It’s an awesome accomplishment,” I said, my voice high-pitched as I put down the place card on the table. “Much better than being a part of the lame-ass Spirit Club. I made a woman throw her tea at me and cry at today’s service project.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Grayson?” Jazz asked. Her question cracked my cool facade. The tears flowed freely, right in front of their baffled faces. I sniffled and sat down in the chair at the head of the table.

“I think we broke up.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Mads asked, coming over to me.

“What happened?” Jazz asked, right behind her.

I didn’t want to lie, but how could I tell them the truth? What Grayson had confessed was so surreal, I could hardly wrap my mind around it, let alone explain it. What would they think of him?

“I don’t want to talk about it here,” I said, motioning toward the kitchen, where Maddie’s mom was singing softly along with “Livin’ on a Prayer” as her client gabbed with her about an upcoming baby shower she was attending.

“Break time,” Maddie said.

“We have only five more to go,” Jazz said.

“Let me help,” I said, grabbing a bottle of silver glitter.

“You sure?”

I stood up and shook the glitter over Maddie’s head, laughing. “Yep!”

“So that’s the way you want it,” she said. “I think gold is a good color for you.” She grabbed a different bottle and shook it at me.

“Are you guys completely out of your minds?” Jazz asked.

We both turned on her; she backed away, laughing. “Please don’t.”

“Beg,” I said, glitter poised over her head. She darted between us, grabbing her own bottle.

“I’m faster than both of you, so go ahead, try it.”

“Take the right,” Mads said. We cornered her, and suddenly there was a frenzy of glitter. The three of us sparkly and laughing.

“Girls!” We stopped.

Maddie’s mother stood in the doorway. “You will clean that up!”

“Yes, Mom,” Mads said, giving one more toss of glitter in our direction.

“Better save some for the teacups,” Jazz said.

We made quick work of the rest of the place cards. When we were finished cleaning ourselves and our mess, Maddie disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with bottles of water and a huge bag of pretzels. We retreated to her room. I plopped down on the leopard-print comforter. Jazz sat cross-legged in front of me on the hot-pink shag carpet, looking as though she were waiting for story time at the library. Mads sat behind me and played with my hair.

I told them about the Spirit Club debacle and Luke. How he’d hinted Grayson had hooked up with the girl at the mall. The kiss. I told them about Grayson’s confession, almost regretting that I’d revealed too much when I saw Jazz’s horrified face. The story of my strange morning poured out and ended with my sprint out of the A&P parking lot. I reached for the charms on my necklace as I spoke, my fingers grasping at the empty space.

“Your necklace! You gave it back?” Jazz asked, noticing.

“Not yet. I can’t believe he gave it to me; that’s pretty unforgiveable, right?”

A moment passed before either of them replied.

“Wow, Wren, you weren’t kidding with the brainathiminal thing,” Jazz said. “What are you going to do?”

We both looked at Mads, who was finishing up a tiny braid in my hair. “What?”

“Well?” I asked.

“You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“I know—I’d be stupid to ever trust him again.”

Jazz nodded.

“Um, no. I was going to say I thought it was kind of . . . hot.”

I pulled away to face her.

“Explain,” Jazz demanded.

“I didn’t say I approved. What he did was awful, but he sort of got karmic payback getting kicked out of school. Don’t you think? And, well, he hasn’t done any of this in a while, right? Like months. A guy with a past is hot. And he wants to change . . . with you. The only things he’s guilty of are giving you that necklace and flirting with a girl he hooked up with last spring before he even met you.”

“The necklace is bad, Mads,” I said.

“And how does Wren know anything else he said was true either?” Jazz asked.

Mads wrinkled her nose at Jazz. “I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve to be a little tortured over that necklace. That was a total brain-fart, dick of a move, but . . . Grayson is basically a good guy. Look at his car. I know you guys laugh that I pay attention to that stuff, but a car can tell you a lot about a person. That car tells me he doesn’t take himself too seriously. He’s not into labels. That’s not the car of someone who’s trying to put one over on you.”

“I guess,” I said, smiling a little, thinking of that Home Sweet Home air freshener. Definitely not the accessory of a player.

“Wait a minute. There was one detail of this morning’s story that needs further review . . . the part about kissing Ava Taylor’s boy toy?”

“Oh, um, he kissed me. And it had more to do with pissing off Gray than, like, really wanting to hook up.”

Maddie gave me a dismissive snort. “Is he hot?”

“Would definitely cast him as the sexy, troubled bad boy in my movie,” Jazz answered.

“Jazz.”

“Holy shit, the girl does have hormones,” Maddie said.

“It was a territorial thing, completely,” I answered.

“Why would you think that? Wren, you’re pretty scorching yourself. Who cares if he kissed you to piss off Grayson? The way I see it, you had two smokin’-hot guys fighting over you in front of Sacred Heart . . . more importantly, in front of Ava Taylor. You’re like my hero today.”

Maddie’s take on the situation might have been out there, but it gave me some hope. Maybe it would be possible to forgive him.

“I know the two of you don’t approve of my . . . fixation . . . with Zach. And I know the cons list sure outweighs the pros on some days, but when he’s with me, he’s with me, completely. And his kisses freakin’ make me melt into a hormonal puddle of hotness.”

“What does you being horny have to do with Grayson?” Jazz asked.

“What I’m getting at is—so what if he’s been with other girls? It only means he’s experienced. You’ve been with other guys—is he all jacked up over that? We’re sixteen . . . this is how it’s supposed to be. I’ve seen you and Grayson together, Wren. He’s completely into you. Focus on that instead of thinking about things that went on before you met.” “Easy, in theory,” I said.

“And now that we have all that figured out, I need you to do something for me,” she said, pulling me off the bed. “What?” I asked.

Maddie ran her fingers through my hair again. “Time to play.”

In homeroom on Monday morning, Sister Raphael called me to the front of the room and handed me a slip of paper that read:

Please see me immediately . . . Mrs. Fiore.

Crud. I was hoping the fistfight had been forgotten. Seeing as I hadn’t been directly involved, I wasn’t sure what she could do. Give me detention for watching?

Enduring the weekend had been punishment enough. I’d fought the urge to call Grayson pretty much up until I’d arrived at school. He didn’t call or text, but I had the feeling he was giving me space. Luke, on the other hand, had texted me twice. I wasn’t sure how he got my cell number, but considering he’d been arm-in-arm with a certain clipboard-holding adversary who must have had it on one of her lists, I didn’t need to be Veronica Mars to figure it out. The first one asking, R U Ok? —like he cared. The second one simply read: you closed your eyes . . . .