Girls in Charge by Debra Moffitt

losers—so mean!
    â€œAnd now here she is asking us for help,” I said.
    â€œKind of ironic, don’t you think?” Kate asked. “Taylor’s famous for messing with other people and now someone is messing with her.”
    â€œIs it karma, do you think?” Piper asked. “What goes around, comes around?”

 
    Eighteen
    Sometimes the answer is so obvious, you just whack yourself in the forehead with the back of your hand and say, OK—I get it! I give in. Fine. Whatever.
    That’s how I felt about Jake Austin. Jake had liked me for months—maybe longer. I was more and more sure he was the person who sent me that note-less pink carnation on Valentine’s Day. And he always seemed to find ways to say hi or try and make me laugh. I felt a little like my mother when she tears around the house looking for her reading glasses only to find they are sitting on top of her silly head. Here I was wondering what it was like to have a real boyfriend, someone who truly liked me. I realized I could just say OK and be Jake’s girlfriend.
    My Forrest thoughts were truly fading, so I wasn’t using Jake to get over him. I had gotten myself over Forrest and had been faithful to the goals I set for myself with the soda tab bracelet that was still on my wrist.
    I had kept the promise I made to myself about not thinking about Forrest like I used to. It worked. I did other stuff. I had room for other thoughts. And with all the clutter cleared away, one of those thoughts was now about Jake Austin. Other girls liked him. He wasn’t Mr. Most Popular, but he was Mr. Actually Pays Attention to Me. I didn’t stay up nights writing about him in my journal. And I didn’t stress about what I looked like when I bumped into him. He was my science lab partner and it was no big deal. He was smart and easy to be around.
    So sort of like a science experiment, I started being nice back. I started acting a little more like Piper than myself. “Oh-ho, Jake,” I said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You are too funny.”
    He suddenly stood up straighter. He was shocked. He blushed. Later, he texted me. Out of the blue with some concocted story that he needed something for our science homework about frog anatomy. I didn’t buy it. And when I texted back, I used a winky emoticon.
    That weekend, he liked every status update and photo I added to Facebook. It was almost too easy. I was making myself pretty sick, but I decided to keep on with it. If I could spend years liking Forrest, surely I could convince myself to like someone who actually liked me.
    The next day, Jake came up to our lunch table, his empty tray in hand.
    â€œHey,” he said to the entire group.
    He received heys in return and then he said, “Jemma, do you want to go outside?”
    â€œOh-la-la,” Piper said.
    â€œUm, sure,” I said, and stood up and pushed in my chair.
    My heart was beating, but not like it did when I used to go on dates with Forrest. They weren’t real dates, of course, because I was his pretend girlfriend. But still, we sat together at movies, held hands, and kissed in Clem Caritas’s backyard. My heart pounded because I didn’t know what I had gotten myself into. Outside, we sat on the wall by the basketball court. I kept my hands in my jeans pockets, even though it was late April, sunny and warm.
    â€œYou should come to the baseball game after school. Lots of people go,” Jake said.
    â€œUm, sure. That would be fun. I could stop by after cross-country.”
    I wondered what I was supposed to do. Cheer for him? Smile and wave? I hadn’t ever been anyone’s real girlfriend before.
    â€œCan I ask you something, Jake?”
    He nodded and I had to ask.
    â€œDid you send me a carnation on Valentine’s Day?”
    â€œDo you think I did?” Jake said, giving me a smile.
    â€œYeah, I think you did.”
    â€œWell, maybe I did,”