Kody Keplinger: The DUFF: Designated Ugly Fat Friend

“What’s wrong with my house?” he asked. “Are you afraid it’s haunted, Duffy?”

“Of course not. I’d just prefer to work at my house. God knows what kind of diseases I could get just by stepping foot in your bedroom.” I shook my head. “So, my house, okay? Tomorrow afternoon at, like, three. Call before you show up.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. If he had a problem with it, I’d write the paper myself. So, purposely forgetting to say good-bye, I walked off, darting around the groups of gossiping girls and hurrying toward the cafeteria.

I found Casey and Jessica waiting for me by the old vending machines.

“I don’t get it, Case,” Jessica was saying. She slipped a dollar into the only working machine and waited for her Sunkist to drop into the slot at the bottom. “Don’t you have to stay and cheer at the game?”

“Nope. I told the girls that I couldn’t make it tonight, so one of our alternates, this cute little freshman, is taking my place. She’s been wanting to cheer all year, and she’s got skills, but there just hasn’t been a place for her until now. They’ll be fine without me.”

I was standing right next to them before Jessica spotted me. “There’s Bianca! Let’s get the heck out of here! Woohoo! Girls’ Night In!”

Casey rolled her eyes.

Jessica pushed open the blue door that led to the parking lot, smiling from ear to ear, and said, “You guys are the best. Like, really the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Cry into your pillow every single night,” Casey said.

“Think your other friends were ‘really the best,’ ” I offered, returning her smile. There was no fucking way I was going to let Wesley Rush drag me down. No way! This was Girls’ Night In, and it wasn’t going to be screwed up by an asshole like him. “You didn’t forget that ice cream promise, did you, Jessica?”

“I remember. Chocolate swirl.”

We crossed the parking lot and climbed into my car. Instantly, Jessica wrapped herself in the old blanket, and Casey, shivering visibly, glowered at her with envy as she pulled on her seat belt. With a quick stomp on the gas, we zoomed out of the student lot and hit the highway, speeding away from Hamilton High like prisoners running from their cells… which was sort of what we were.

“I can’t believe you weren’t nominated for Homecoming Queen this time, Casey,” Jessica said from the backseat. “I was sure you would be.”

“Nah. I got voted queen at Football Homecoming. There’s a rule about people winning more than once in the same year. I wasn’t eligible to be nominated this time. It’s gonna be Vikki or Angela, I’m sure.”

“Do you think they’ll fight if one of them wins?” Jessica sounded worried.

“Doubt it,” Casey said. “Angela couldn’t care less about that kind of shit. Vikki is the competitive one… I really was looking forward to seeing the drama tonight, though. Did I tell you that Vikki is thinking of meeting up with Wesley Rush, too?”

“No!” Jessica and I cried in unison.

“Yep,” Casey said, nodding. “I guess she’s really trying to make her boyfriend jealous or something. She’s dating a junior, taking an OHH kid to our dance, and telling everyone she has the hots for Wesley. She claims they fooled around after a party recently-I guess her boyfriend doesn’t know about that yet-and she’s thinking of doing it again. She said it was amazing.”

“He slept with her?” Jessica gasped.

“He sleeps with everyone,” I said, turning the car onto 5th Street. “If it has a vagina, he’ll screw it.”

“Ew! Bianca!” Jessica yelped. “Don’t say the… the V word.”

“Vagina, vagina, vagina,” Casey said flatly. “Get over it, Jess. You have one. You can call it what it is.”

Jessica’s cheeks were the color of tomatoes. “There’s no reason to talk about it. It’s crude and… personal.”

Casey ignored her and said to me, “He might be a player, but he’s pretty damn sexy. Even you have to admit that, B. I bet he’s awesome in bed. I mean, you made out with him. Was he amazing? Can you really blame Vikki for wanting to hook up with him?”

“You made out with Wesley?” Jessica croaked, choking on her own excitement. “What? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shot a glare at Casey.

“She’s embarrassed,” Casey explained, fluffing the back of her short pixie cut. “Which is dumb because I bet she had a blast kissing him.”

“I did not have a blast,” I said.

“Was he a good kisser?” Jessica asked. “Tell me, tell me, tell me! I really want to know.”

“Yes, if you must know, he was. But that doesn’t make it any less disgusting.”

“But,” Casey interjected, “with your experience, answer my last question. Can you really blame Vikki for wanting to hook up with him?”

“I don’t have to.” I switched on my turn signal. “She’ll blame herself when she gets a venereal disease… or when her boyfriend finds out about it. Whichever comes first.”

“And this is exactly why I wanted to go to the dance,” Casey sighed. “We could have witnessed it all firsthand… like Hamilton’s own episode of Gossip Girl. Vikki’s boyfriend would be getting pissed and plotting revenge as his unfaithful girlfriend screws the hottest guy in school, and Bianca, hiding her secret love for Wesley, would mope and pretend to hate him while silently pining for his super-sexy-hot kiss again.”

My jaw dropped open. “I would not be pining for anything of the sort!”

Jessica snorted with laughter from the backseat, pulling her ponytail in front of her mouth to hide a grin when I scowled at her in the rearview.

“Oh well,” Casey sighed. “I’m sure we’ll hear all about the drama on Monday.”

“Or tomorrow if the story is good enough,” Jessica said. “Angela and Jeanine never keep gossip to themselves. If it gets crazy, you know they’ll call us and tell us what we missed. I’m sure that they will.” She smiled. “I hope they give lots of details. I can’t believe I’m missing my last Homecoming.”

“At least you’re not missing it alone, Jess.”

A few seconds after pulling onto Holbrooke Lane, I turned into the Gaithers’ driveway. Yanking the keys from the ignition, I said, “Let the Girls’ Night In officially begin.”

“Woohoo!” Jessica jumped out of the backseat and practically danced up to her front porch. She pushed open the door, and Casey and I followed her inside, shaking our heads with amusement.

I slid off my jacket and hung it on the hook just inside the door. Jessica lived in a coatrack house-clean, neat, shoes off at the front door… you know the type. Her parents were super-picky about order. Casey did the same and said, “I wish my mom could keep a house this nice. Or she could at least hire a maid or whatever. Our place looks like shit.”

Mine didn’t look that great either. My mom had never been much of a clean freak, and Dad only believed in cleaning once a year, during the spring. Other than laundry, dishes, and the occasional dust-and-vacuum job (usually all my doing), not much housework got done in the Piper home.

“What time will your parents get here, Jessica?” I asked.

“Mom will be home at five-thirty, and Dad should get here a little after six.” She was waiting for us at the foot of the stairs, ready to run up to her bedroom as soon as we joined her. “Dad started seeing a new patient today, though, so he might be a little late.”

Mr. Gaither was a therapist. More than once, Casey had threatened to ask him if he’d take me as a patient for free. See if he’d help work out my “issues.” Not that I had issues. But Casey said my cynicism was the result of some kind of internal struggle. I said it was just me being intelligent. And Jessica… well, Jessica didn’t say anything. Even though it was only ever discussed teasingly, she always got a little awkward when the subject came up. With all the psychobabble she heard from her dad, she probably did think my constant negativity was part of an internal struggle.