Home Sweet Drama by Jessica Burkhart Page B

dressed in black breeches with suede knees, a white show shirt, and a navy jacket.
    â€œWe totally do,” I said, smiling. But it faded quickly when I thought about Paige.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with you so early?” Heather asked, squinting at me.
    â€œHomecoming,” I grumbled. “At least I can sit here and not have to listen to Paige and Geena debate if the plates should be green and gold, green, or just gold.”
    Alison shook her head. “Sasha, Sasha. That’s a VIP decision. We’re going to remember that night for the rest of our lives and if the plates are wrong …”
    My eyes met Heather’s and we shared a semitortured look.
    â€œIf anyone even
thinks
the word ‘Homecoming’ during breakfast,” Heather said. “You’re eating alone.”
    I grinned and poured maple syrup onto my waffle, certain I wouldn’t hear a mention of Homecoming for the next half hour.
    After breakfast I met up with Paige in the hallway on our way to class. We exchanged smiles, but that was it. We walked to Mr. Davidson’s English class together, but the walk, which usually felt short because we chatted the entire way, seemed to take forever. Our silence felt even more noticeable because everyone around us wasenergized about Homecoming. It looked as though every student had taken advantage of crazy dress day—it was like Halloween. I couldn’t help but stare when Rachel and her friends walked by in striped knee socks and shorts. I wondered if Eric knew that she was dressing up. I almost stopped walking as I envisioned Eric seeing Rachel’s outfit and telling her how great it was and how much he liked it. I wanted that attention, too, but … from Jacob.
    â€œLook at that,” Paige said, jolting me out of my thoughts.
    A guy with mismatched shoes headed up the steps to the science building.
    Paige and I entered the English building and walked into Mr. Davidson’s classroom.
    â€œHey,” Alison said to Paige and me, walking over. She waved at both of us. “Aren’t these outfits great?”
    â€œThey’re fab,” Paige said, stepping around us and taking her seat.
    I sat next to Paige. That your-outfits-are-so-fab line was just that—a line.
    â€œI
love
your outfit, too, Paige,” Alison said. “It’s genius because of the whole
Teen Cuisine
thing.”
    â€œThanks,” Paige said. Her tone was clipped and she didn’t even look up at Alison. She leaned down and pulled her book and notebook out of her bag.
    â€œWe’ll have to get a pic of you in your outfit,” I said. “Maybe the show will want to share it with viewers.”
    â€œYeah, maybe,” Paige said. She looked away from me and it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything else.
    Ugh. I couldn’t have her be mad at me too. It was too much on top of everything else that was going on. I tried to think of something to say that would make Paige feel better.
    â€œSo, for lunch,” I said. “I was thinking we could grab our food and eat it outside because it’s so nice. Want to?”
    Paige looked over at me. “That sounds fun. I’d like that.” She smiled, this time for real. It had been a while since we’d had lunch together. I’d been sitting with the Trio a lot and Paige had been with her friends. I settled back into my chair and breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t lose the last real friend I had.
    When I finally met Paige for lunch, she was back to her bubbly self. We loaded our trays with spaghetti, salad, and breadsticks. We filled cups with soda and carried our trays to a bench just outside the caf.
    â€œOmigod,” Paige said. “I can’t believe it’s already Tuesday! That means tomorrow’s Wednesday.” Paige pouted.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with Wednesday?” I asked. I swirled my fork in my spaghetti, then put it down. I stuck a napkin in my collar,