Kiss Her Goodbye by Wendy Corsi Staub

allergy. And she likes spaghetti, but the school’s cook makes the sauce too garlicky. She sits next to Garth Monroe in biology lab right after lunch. He’s cute—really cute—and the last thing she wants to do is breathe garlic fumes in his face.
    And then there’s the choir thing.
    On Mondays, Jen has choir instead of gym. Back in Indiana, the school choir was made up of a select group of students, and they rehearsed while the others were in study hall. Here, choir is mandatory. Which would be fine—if you weren’t one of the students who’s been instructed to just move their lips during the upcoming fall concert. Jen has never been able to carry a tune.
    So basically, Mondays suck.
    Today was better than usual, though. Instead of making them sing during choir class, Mrs. Tylerson had them do worksheets on classical music while they listened to some opera. And Garth was absent, so her garlic breath didn’t matter nearly as much as usual. It’s just too bad she wasted her favorite pair of jeans and form-fitting black sweater on a day when he’s not even here.
    Now, as Jen heads to her locker to get her jacket and her backpack, she glances at the homework assignment her biology teacher just handed out. It’s filled with little four-box grids that need to be filled in. Boring, boring. They’re studying dominant and recessive genes. But that, she supposes, is better than the big reproduction unit that’s looming. How will she ever get through that with Garth sitting only a few inches from her? Talk about embarrassing . . .
    â€œHey Jen!”
    She turns to see Erin hurrying toward her, Amber Korth at her side.
    â€œHi, guys. What’s up?”
    â€œRobby said he’ll drop us at the Galleria for a few hours and come back and pick us up at five-thirty,” Erin says, falling into step with Jen, twirling a strand of her long blond hair around her fingertip. “There’s a sale at Abercrombie. Want to come?”
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œWhy not?” Erin asks.
    â€œWhy not?” Amber echoes.
    â€œI just can’t.”
    â€œHer mother,” Erin informs Amber, as though Jen hasn’t spoken. “She doesn’t want her hanging around with juvenile delinquents.”
    â€œThat’s so—I mean, God! We’re not juvenile delinquents, Jen.”
    â€œI know you’re not, Amber. And so does my mother. It’s just . . .”
    â€œRobby.”
    Erin’s voice is flat, and so is Jen’s when she replies.
    â€œRight. Robby. My mother would kill me if she found out I’d been riding around with him. And so would your mother, Erin. She’d be so pissed.”
    â€œMy mother so isn’t going to find out, Jen. Is she?”
    There’s something almost . . . ominous in her friend’s tone. Jen looks up to see that Erin’s eyes aren’t as warm as they were a few seconds ago.
    Hurt, she says softly, “You know I wouldn’t tell your mother, Erin.”
    â€œBut are you going to tell your mother? Because guaranteed if you do she’ll tell mine.”
    â€œGeez.” Amber shakes her head. “Why’d you even want to ask her to come with us, Erin? If my mother finds out—”
    â€œNobody’s mother is going to find out anything. Right, Jen?”
    Undigested spaghetti is churning in Jen’s gut. She forces herself to look Erin in the eye. “I’m not saying a word to anybody.”
    â€œGood.” Erin softens her tone. “I just . . . when I saw you I thought I’d ask because I figured maybe you felt like doing something fun for a change, Jen. I mean, I feel so sorry for you. All you ever do is go to school and play soccer and babysit. You never get to go anywhere or do anything.”
    â€œYes I do.”
    â€œOh, right. You forgot, Erin. Church. She goes to church with her family on Sunday mornings.” Amber giggles.
    â€œCut it