E. Lockhart - The Boyfriend List

“I know your writing, Kim.”

“So why are you asking me, then?”

“It was a list I had to make for my shrink, okay? I have to see a therapist now, and she made me write a list.” Kim was quiet. “I’m all screwed up.”

“Tell me about it.” Her voice was sarcastic.

“I’m losing my mind,” I said. “Because my best friend stole my boyfriend. I trusted her and she stabbed me in the back.”

“I didn’t steal him. It was fate.”

“How is that different from stealing? Enlighten me.”

“We’re in love,” she said hotly.

“You were supposed to be my friend.”

“I told you, we never meant for it to happen. It’s one of those things that’s meant to be.”

“Then what was he doing with me at the Spring Fling?”

“He was trying to be nice, Roo. He told me all about it.”

“That’s what he says.”

“I trust him,” said Kim. “I know exactly what went on. It’s you I can’t trust.”

“Me?” The wet scrub brush had dropped into my lap and was soaking water into my cords, but I didn’t care. “What did I ever do to make you not trust me?”

“I could never trust you with Finn,” she spat out. “You were always flirting with him.”

“I never even talked to him,” I said.

“No, you gave him looks, and batted those eyelashes, and crossed those legs of yours in your fishnets, and avoided him, like if you talked to him for one minute he was sure to fall madly in love with you.”

“What?”

“I saw you at the Halloween party. What you two were like when you were alone together.”

“We were never alone!”

“Well, it sure looked like something. He went on and on about how funny you were, after. How he was a jaguar/Freddy Krueger or something.”

“Freddy Krueger kitty cat.”

“Whatever. Like an in-joke.”

“He was a panther, anyway.”

“That’s not the point. You were all over him.”

“I was not.”

“Ever since then. Or even before that. You two move around each other like there’s some big secret between you that no one else knows about. He was always asking about you.”

“Kim! Nothing happened.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she snapped. “I don’t want him anymore anyway. But you should think about what kind of friend you are before you go around saying I stole your boyfriend.” She zipped her backpack shut with a sudden noise. “Take a look at yourself, Ruby,” she said, heading for the door. “I may be a bitch, making that Xerox, but if it makes you think at all about how you act, how you cross lines and kiss people you shouldn’t kiss, and flirt around all over the place without considering how other people feel—then I’m glad I did it.”

And she was gone.

My dad always wants me to empathize with other people. Consider their positions, work on forgiveness. And now that this whole debacle is nearly four months behind me, I do think Kim was right about me and Finn. Not that he has a thing for me, not that I have a thing for him, not that we did anything wrong, exactly—but I did stay out of his way because I somehow thought I was capable of stealing Kim’s boyfriend, like there was something underground there; and he did give me looks, especially when I wore fishnets, and I did like it. The whole dynamic between us was not what it should be if he was dating my best friend. I mean, I put him on the list—even though nothing even remotely romantic ever happened between us. That must mean something.

So I was wrong. About that. And I stopped wearing the fishnets.

Kim believes in fate; she believes Tommy Hazard is out there somewhere waiting to be her one and only; and now she believes Jackson is it. Him. Her Tommy Hazard. She believes he didn’t kiss me back, or come back to the Spring Fling party with the idea of getting back together with me—because she wants him to be the perfect guy she’s always been looking for. I couldn’t have been that cranked about Jackson if I was flirting with Finn, she thinks—and she was half angry with me about the Finn thing anyway, which made it all the easier to justify starting up with Jackson.

Kim plays by the rules. She spends all this time being a good person, doing charity stuff, getting good grades and being the nice overachiever the Doctors Yamamoto want her to be. When someone (me) doesn’t live up to her standards, she dishes out what she thinks they deserve. And she thought I deserved the Xerox.

If I’d ever told my mother about what happened with the boyfriend list (which I never did), she would have said that Kim is a double-crossing backbiter. Then she’d have said I should vent my rage, forget all about Kim, get on with it and go eat some soy-based product.

My dad tells me to forgive.

My mom tells me to forget.

But I don’t want to do either. Just because I understand where Kim was coming from doesn’t mean that I think what she did was right.

And I can’t forget her. We go to school together.

The Monday morning after my confrontation with Kim in the girls’ bathroom, I was waiting at the bus stop near my house, reading the comics page of the Times and drinking juice from a carton—when Meghan’s Jeep pulled up to the curb. “Your mom said I’d find you here,” she said, leaning over to yell out the passenger window. “Get in.”

I got in. She stepped on the gas.

We drove in silence for about ten minutes, until she pulled into the Starbucks drive-thru and ordered our usual vanilla cappuccinos. “My treat.”

“How come?”

Meghan looked at me. “You had a bad week.”

“Yeah. I’m having a bad life.”

“And you paid me gas money in advance,” she said. “So now I owe you, since I didn’t drive you.”

Meghan turned on the radio and we sang stupid songs together at the top of our lungs until we got to school.

1 Doctor Z: “You’re here in therapy to look at your behavior patterns. Recognizing them is the first step toward changing them, if you desire.”

Me: “But it’s not a behavior pattern. It’s something other people are doing to me.”

Annoying silence from Doctor Z.

Me: “Seeing that it’s a pattern isn’t going to help. The No Warning part is about how there’s no warning. I can’t see it coming, so what can I do about it?”

Doctor Z: More silence. Even more annoying, if that’s possible.

Me: “Why aren’t you talking?”

Her: “I want to let you draw your own conclusions.”2 Because she was mad at me on Kim’s account and was basically never going to talk to me again.3 Ditto.4 All right. Maybe I had. In fact, I certainly had. He was cute. I wanted some attention. I wanted to feel like less of a loser. This admission, courtesy of yet an other therapy session with Doctor Z.5 Which I found out by blatantly listening in on a conversation she and Ariel were having.6 In H&P, Mr. Wallace is always talking about how the media “spins” the facts one way or another, depending on political agendas. Like a Democratic newspaper would emphasize how much the former President Clinton did for the economy, while a Republican paper might focus on how he never seemed to keep it in his pants. Heidi put her own spin on the Jackson/Roo drama, probably because she still likes Jackson. No one ever asked me for my spin, except for Doctor Z—but here it is, anyhow: