E. Lockhart - The Boyfriend List

If Noel has girlfriends, he has them out of school. He came to the dance alone, which almost no one could get away with, but Noel is such a man of ironic distance that he pulled it off and no one thought he was a leper.

“Hey, Ruby,” he said, sinking down next to me on the bench near the ship’s railing. “I hear there’s a party at your house, and now your boyfriend’s in a twist over something and you don’t even have a ride to your own fête. Can that be true, or is it a load of Tate gossip?”

I couldn’t believe I’d let Jackson tell people that party was still on. He’d probably invited half the junior and sophomore classes. “How do you know I don’t have a ride?” I asked. (Would Jackson really leave without me?)

“Are you kidding?” Noel scrunched up his nose and took a drag off his cigarette. “It’s all over the boat.”

“Ag. Well, then I’m sure no one’s coming to my house.”

“You better believe they are. Five people asked me if I was going. Ariel Oliveri. Katarina Dolgen. It’s going to be a scene.”

“Oh, no.”

“If I’m invited, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Of course you’re invited. I—I haven’t had the best week. Jackson told everybody about it. It was his idea.”

Noel smiled. “That’s okay. I know. I keep up on my Ruby Oliver news.”

I was so grateful, I felt like Noel was a knight in shining armor. He gave me his jacket to wear and hustled me into his car. We drove back to my house and my parents had set out coolers full of soft drinks down on the end of the dock where the boats are—plus a bunch of folding chairs and some candles in paper bags, which looked so pretty. People were already standing around when I arrived: Matt and Nora (who said she was tired and had her mom pick her up right after I got there) 2; Ariel and Shiv; Katarina and Kyle; a bunch of junior friends of Jackson’s; Shep “Cabbie” Cabot and a senior girl with big boobs; some sophomores I knew from lacrosse. Finn and Heidi came a little while later. Cricket 3and Pete never showed.

It was a beautiful night, I was the hostess of a party full of popular people wearing gorgeous clothes; there was a boy in a tux by my side. It should have been great.

Instead, I was shattered.

Someone handed me a beer. I don’t remember who. I’d never really had more than a couple of sips before that, or maybe a little wine at one of my mom’s opening night parties—but I drank the whole can. And I’d like to blame what happened next on that—only I can’t, because as Doctor Z says, I am in charge of myself.

Here’s a list of semi-beer-induced bad things that happened at the dock party, and I admit that three of them are my own stupid fault:

One: I held hands with Noel. I grabbed it on purpose when Finn and Heidi arrived. I felt like I wanted protection. He kept holding it for a while, and I liked it. But I felt weird about it the next day. I hadn’t meant to be flirtatious. 4

Two: It soon became clear that the story Heidi was spreading around about what she saw on the boat did not involve Jackson kissing me back—which he did for at least twenty seconds, I swear. Heidi’s story 5involved Jackson being a faithful saint who was only doing a favor taking a poor, rejected four-eyed ex to a dance when she had no other date, but then she (me) made this huge unwanted pass at him and he had to push her (me) away, in order to remain true to the no-butt bitch he was currently dating (Kim), which of course he would, because even though he couldn’t really care about her (Kim), he was still such an excellent guy. 6

Three: Angelo Martinez showed up! I never in a zillion years thought he would, even though I invited him. But there I was, talking to Noel and feeling dizzy from the beer and also annoyed that all these people were more than happy to drink my parents’ pop and stand on our dock while slavering over my multiple rejections and humiliations. I was trying to explain to Noel how I didn’t ever want to talk about Jackson again and did he think Jackson still liked me? when I glanced over at Katarina and who was she talking to but Angelo! He was wearing chinos and a sweatshirt—and he was holding a corsage.

“Hi,” I said, walking over.

“Hi,” he said.

“Is this your new boyfriend, Roo?” asked Katarina.

Angelo ignored her, and handed me the corsage in its clear plastic box. Yellow roses, like at Homecoming. “I paid for it in advance,” he said, “before you called. So I figured, why not pick it up and bring it over?”

“Thanks.”

“I hope your boyfriend won’t mind.” Angelo opened the box for me and lifted out the flowers. I looked down at the pink carnations from Jackson, sagging but still pinned to the strap of my dress.

I ripped them off and stamped them into the ground with the heel of my silver shoe. “He won’t mind,” I said, “I can promise you that.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed Angelo on the cheek. “These flowers are just what I needed tonight,” I said. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem,” he said, and then he bent down and kissed my cheek, only a little closer to the mouth than a normal cheek kiss. A jolt went down my spine.

“Roo, what the hell?”

I turned, and there was Jackson, striding down the length of the dock with his tie loosened. The smashed carnations. The kiss. He had seen it all.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping back from Angelo.

“Who’s this guy?”

“We weren’t—”

“I can’t believe you!”

“Me?”

“I was coming back to talk,” Jackson said under his breath, his lips close to my ear. “I’ve been driving all over, thinking about things. I came back, because I felt bad about what happened on the boat.” He was sweating. I had no idea what to say. “I thought you cared about me,” Jackson went on. “But obviously none of it ever meant anything.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you’re here, making out with some guy.”

“Jackson!”

He turned around and stomped back to his car.

When I turned around, Angelo was gone too.

Four: My mom found a beer can. “Roo, how did this get here? I’m so disappointed in you; don’t you know some of your friends are driving? blah blah blah.” Not even important in the grand scheme of things, except that I had to listen to an endless lecture when I was frankly in no condition to deal.

So there I was, my mom yelling at me, Heidi talking crap about me, weirded out by the Noel dynamic, Angelo probably mad at me, Jackson thinking I was cheating on him/getting over him too quickly/generally skanky—and you’d think things couldn’t get worse, but ha! It’s my life. Things can always get worse.

Five: I was standing in front of our house getting lectured by Elaine Oliver, who gives loud and obnoxious monologues for a living and was therefore on a tremendous and highly dramatic rant, when Meghan came walking down the dock. The other kids were still partying like thirty yards away, down where the boats were. I had seen Meghan briefly at the dance, and she looked stunning in a black strapless dress and a string of pearls around her neck. Very different from her usual scruffy prepster look. “Hi, Mrs. Oliver,” she said, polite as can be.

“Meghan, how nice to see you!” My mom suddenly turned on the charm. “Did you have fun at the Spring Fling?”

“Yes,” she said. “I dropped Bick off and I’m just getting back. I saw the candles. Roo, are you having a party?”

“Sure,” said my mother, all hostessy. You would never believe this was the same woman who only seconds before was screaming that I was an “inconsiderate recklessly endangering illegal party monster” about beer that I didn’t even buy. “Would you like a pop?” Mom said to Meghan. “Your dress is beautiful, sweetie.”