wasnât my only kiss.
I wondered if Kendra had done more than kiss boys. Shannon Shunton, supposedly, had had sex with a senior over the summer, but I only heard it once from Peggy, who heard it from one of Katherineâs friends, who hates Elizabeth Shunton, so it might not be true. But it was definitely true that Shannon and the other popular girls had done more than kissing, like letting boys go up their shirts and down their pants. But I didnât ask Kendra about this because I worried I would want to talk about it forever, and I would never get my homework done, and then I would fail out of school and not be able to see Trevor Santos ever again.
So we said good-bye and then I ran upstairs to talk to my mom, but she wasnât on the couch anymore. She was watching TV in bed, which made me think she was missing my dad, and I felt bad because if it wasnât for me, she wouldnât have to be missing him.
Yep. Okay. Gosh. Okay.
Maybe tomorrow morning I would tell her it was okay to let Dad move back in.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
I went back to the living room to finish my homework, except I couldnât stop thinking about the new boy. Snap out of this, Carolina! You must do your homework! You are a good student! You are not going to become one of those dumb girls who only feels good about herself because boys like her!
But I just couldnât stop thinking about him. I so wished I could. But I couldnât.
Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would stop with the boy obsessing. I really would. It was a new vow. I never broke two vows in a row.
So I signed back on to Facebook and went through and looked at all of Trevorâs pictures, even though he had, like, only twenty, and most of them were grainy, and some not even of him or people, just dead birds in front of windows, but there was this one picture where he was sitting with a little girlâhis sister, Lily, the caption said. And he had this look in his eyes, facing the camera, that he just could see through you and everyone and was probably the most interesting person ever born. Plus, he looked sooo attractive. Like he could be a model for some mysterious new designer. But even better than that, because he was probably smart and deep.
I wanted to message him that I was in love with him and for him to message me back and tell me he loved me too. But then I realized I would never do this, and if I did, he would never message me back: He would laugh at me and tell Henry McCarthy and the rest of the stupid boys that always hated me and made fun of me. And then I realized Trevor Santos was probably a horrible person just like them, and that I should just do my homework.
I also realized no wayâNO WAYâwould I let my mom let my dad move back in. Never. Never. Never.
Â
10
Trevor doesnât want to hear it
None of the boy cross-country runners showered after practice. Strange. But whatever. So I didnât either.
First thing my mom says to me when I get in her SUV? âYou smell, Trevor.â
âThanks, Mom.â
âDo they not have showers at the school?â
âMy first day at school was great, Mom. Thanks for asking,â I said.
âIâm sorry. How was your first day?â
âCan we just go home, please.â
âIâm sorry. Please tell me about your day,â she said as she started driving back toward our house. Except I refused. She kept asking me to talk, saying sorry over and over, but I just ignored her. Sometimes that was the only weapon I had against her.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
My mom went to Riverbend High School. She was a legend twenty-five years ago. A cheerleader when it was still cool to be a cheerleader. Lead in the musical. (They did My Fair Lady just because of her.) She got straight As. She didnât win homecoming queen, but trust me, it wasnât because she wasnât pretty, but probably because she was a bit of a snob. She was valedictorian, and she
I wondered if Kendra had done more than kiss boys. Shannon Shunton, supposedly, had had sex with a senior over the summer, but I only heard it once from Peggy, who heard it from one of Katherineâs friends, who hates Elizabeth Shunton, so it might not be true. But it was definitely true that Shannon and the other popular girls had done more than kissing, like letting boys go up their shirts and down their pants. But I didnât ask Kendra about this because I worried I would want to talk about it forever, and I would never get my homework done, and then I would fail out of school and not be able to see Trevor Santos ever again.
So we said good-bye and then I ran upstairs to talk to my mom, but she wasnât on the couch anymore. She was watching TV in bed, which made me think she was missing my dad, and I felt bad because if it wasnât for me, she wouldnât have to be missing him.
Yep. Okay. Gosh. Okay.
Maybe tomorrow morning I would tell her it was okay to let Dad move back in.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
I went back to the living room to finish my homework, except I couldnât stop thinking about the new boy. Snap out of this, Carolina! You must do your homework! You are a good student! You are not going to become one of those dumb girls who only feels good about herself because boys like her!
But I just couldnât stop thinking about him. I so wished I could. But I couldnât.
Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would stop with the boy obsessing. I really would. It was a new vow. I never broke two vows in a row.
So I signed back on to Facebook and went through and looked at all of Trevorâs pictures, even though he had, like, only twenty, and most of them were grainy, and some not even of him or people, just dead birds in front of windows, but there was this one picture where he was sitting with a little girlâhis sister, Lily, the caption said. And he had this look in his eyes, facing the camera, that he just could see through you and everyone and was probably the most interesting person ever born. Plus, he looked sooo attractive. Like he could be a model for some mysterious new designer. But even better than that, because he was probably smart and deep.
I wanted to message him that I was in love with him and for him to message me back and tell me he loved me too. But then I realized I would never do this, and if I did, he would never message me back: He would laugh at me and tell Henry McCarthy and the rest of the stupid boys that always hated me and made fun of me. And then I realized Trevor Santos was probably a horrible person just like them, and that I should just do my homework.
I also realized no wayâNO WAYâwould I let my mom let my dad move back in. Never. Never. Never.
Â
10
Trevor doesnât want to hear it
None of the boy cross-country runners showered after practice. Strange. But whatever. So I didnât either.
First thing my mom says to me when I get in her SUV? âYou smell, Trevor.â
âThanks, Mom.â
âDo they not have showers at the school?â
âMy first day at school was great, Mom. Thanks for asking,â I said.
âIâm sorry. How was your first day?â
âCan we just go home, please.â
âIâm sorry. Please tell me about your day,â she said as she started driving back toward our house. Except I refused. She kept asking me to talk, saying sorry over and over, but I just ignored her. Sometimes that was the only weapon I had against her.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
My mom went to Riverbend High School. She was a legend twenty-five years ago. A cheerleader when it was still cool to be a cheerleader. Lead in the musical. (They did My Fair Lady just because of her.) She got straight As. She didnât win homecoming queen, but trust me, it wasnât because she wasnât pretty, but probably because she was a bit of a snob. She was valedictorian, and she
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