Was that what this was about? She wanted to find me a boyfriend so Dylan would leave me alone? “I don’t date.”
Ava’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged and glanced at James, who seemed to be determined not to look at Ava as he built an elaborate teepee made of fries. He wasn’t going to be any help.
“Listen,” said Ava, dropping her fake act. “It’s just a party. Once everyone meets you, they’ll stop staring at you. It’s no big deal. Just an hour or whatever, and then you won’t have to do it again. I’ll even help you with hair and makeup and stuff—you can borrow one of my dresses, if they’re not too small.”
Did she even realize she’d just insulted me? I tried to refuse, but she kept going.
“Please,” she said, her voice cracking with sincerity. “Don’t make me beg. I know it’s probably not what you’re used to in New York, but it’ll be fun, I promise.”
I eyed her as she gave me a helpless, pleading look. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll stay for an hour. But I don’t need your makeup or your dresses, and after this, you leave me alone, all right?”
Her smile was back, and this time it wasn’t fake. “Deal. I’ll be at your place at seven.”
After I scribbled down my address on a napkin, Ava sauntered back to her table, her hips swaying outrageously as virtually every male eye turned her way. I glared at James, who was still focused on building that ridiculous hut. “Some help you are.”
“You seemed like you were handling it.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for throwing me to the wolves.” I reached over and took a fry from the plate, making sure it was the one that was holding up the structure. It came toppling down, but James didn’t seem to mind. Instead he popped another fry into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
“Well,” he said once he’d swallowed. “Seems you’ve officially made a date with the devil.”
I groaned.
As I walked to my car after the last bell had rung, James caught up with me, music blasting from the headphones that hung off his neck, but at least he was silent. I was still annoyed he hadn’t stepped in and helped me with Ava, so I waited until I’d reached my car to acknowledge him.
“Did I drop something?” I said, unable to think of any other way to make myself clearer. I didn’t want to talk to him.
“What? No, of course not. If you did, I’d give it back.” His bewilderment confused me. Did he really not understand?
I lingered with my key in the lock, wondering how long this was going to last. Was it just for today, or did I have to wait for my status as a new curiosity to wear off? I’d been stared at all day long, but no one but James, Dylan and Ava had approached me. I wasn’t surprised. They’d all known each other since diapers, and they’d carved out their groups since kindergarten, more than likely. I had no place here. I knew it, they knew it, and that was perfectly fine with me.
“I don’t date.”
The words came out before I could stop myself, but now that I’d said them, I had to keep going.
“Even back home, I didn’t date. I just—I don’t. It’s nothing personal. I’m not making excuses. I really mean it—I don’t date.”
Instead of looking disappointed or crestfallen, James stared at me with wide blue eyes and a blank expression. As the seconds ticked by, I felt my cheeks grow warm. Apparently dating me had been the last thing on his mind.
“I think you’re pretty.”
I blinked. Or maybe not.
“But you’re at least an eight, and I’m a four. We’re not allowed to date. Society says so.”
Eyeing him, I tried to figure out if he was being serious. He didn’t look like he was kidding, and he was staring at me again, like he expected some sort of answer other than a snort.
“An eight?” I blurted. It was the only thing I could come up with.
“Maybe a nine, if you put on some makeup. But I like eights. Eights don’t let it go to their heads. Nines do. And tens don’t know how to be anything other than tens—like Ava.”
He was serious. I turned the key in the lock, wishing I had a cell phone so I could pretend someone was calling me. “Well…thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Kate? Can I ask you something?”
I bit my lip to stop myself from pointing out that he already had. “Sure, shoot.”
“What’s wrong with your mother?”
I froze, and my stomach churned. I didn’t say anything for several moments, but he still waited for an answer.
My mother. Her illness was the last thing I wanted to talk about. It seemed wrong to spread it around, like I was somehow spreading her around as well. And selfishly I wanted to keep her to myself for these last few days, weeks, months—however much time I had left with her, I wanted it to be just her and me. She wasn’t a freak show they could stare at or some piece of gossip they could whisper back and forth, and I wouldn’t let them do that to her. I wouldn’t let them taint her memory like that.
James leaned against my car, and I saw a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. I hated being pitied. “How long does she have?”
I swallowed. For someone with zero social skills, he could read me like a damn book. Or maybe I really was that obvious. “The doctors gave her six months to live when I was a freshman.” I clutched my car keys so hard that the metal cut into my skin. The pain was a welcome distraction, but it wasn’t enough to make the lump in my throat disappear. “She’s been hanging on for a really long time.”