And I’d liked it.

I’d really, really liked it.

How was such a thing even possible? I mean, Tommy was just the guy against whom I’d always competed in school for top of the class…a guy who, because of that competition, eventually became (sort of) a friend. Not a friend I’d ever told myreal friends (such as Sidney) about. But a friend just the same.

A friend I had horribly, terribly betrayed.

And okay, he’d grown into a total hottie.

But that didn’t excuse the fact that I’d basically thrown myself at him.

And yeah, I know there’d been two people in that parking lot. But let’s face it, I’d been the only one flirting.You need to look out, Tommy. I don’t want them to hurt you, Tommy. And stroking his arm hair? Oh my God, I make myself sick. What iswrong with me?

Except that it wasn’t entirely my fault. I mean, maybe it was my fault that we’dstarted kissing. But he’s the one who kept me wanting to kiss him. He hadn’t had to kiss me so…satisfactorily. I mean, to the point that I couldn’tstop kissing him. That was entirely his fault. No guy should kiss a girl like that. Not unless he knows what he’s getting himself into.

Which I’m betting the full amount I owe on my Leica that Tommy didn’t.

Unless he did. Unless the reason it had seemed as if he’d practiced that kiss was because he had. Not like on another girl or a pillow, or whatever, but in his mind. Because that’s what it had seemed like. That Tommy Sullivan had kissed me like that before, only in his imagination.

But that’s crazy. Tommy Sullivan hadn’t spent the past four years since I’d last seen him thinking of me. I will admit I have a high opinion of myself, but it’s notthat high.

No, Tommy Sullivan was just a really, really good kisser.

And it’s a good thing the only reason he’s interested in me is because he wants to get me back for what I did to him in the eighth grade. Because if he were seriously into me, I’d be in big trouble. I mean, he’s smart, he’s hot, he knows I hate quahogs and he doesn’t hold it against me, and he follows along behind me when I ride my bike at night to make sure I get home safe…could there be a more perfect guy?

Oh my God. I can’t believe I just thought that aboutTommy Sullivan.

And what was all that stuff he’d said about me being afraid to break up with Seth because I don’t like admitting I’d made a mistake? Could any theory be more ridiculous?

And not like myself? Not like myself? I LOVE myself! I’m running for Quahog Princess, aren’t I?

Obviously, with stuff like that batting around in my head, sleep was impossible. Well, virtually. I guess I must have dozed off at some point, because when I opened my eyes again, bright sunlight was streaming through my windows…

…and Sidney van der Hoff was standing at the side of my bed, leaning over me and going, “Katie. Katie. Wake up. Wakeup.”

I sat bolt upright, got a head rush, and flopped back down with a groan.

“God,” Sidney said, plopping down onto the bed beside me. “What is the matter with you? You look like total warmed-over quahog casserole. Is that zit cream on your face or…oh, it’s just toothpaste. God. Bathe much?”

“Sidney.” I longed to smush a pillow over my face. But I couldn’t. Because doing so wouldn’t make her go away. Or change what was about to happen. “About last night. What you saw…”

“Yeah, really,” Sidney said. She was wearing her stick-straight hair back in a white headband. She had on a freshly pressed white collared shirt, and jeans with pink sequins sewn along the pockets. On her shoulder was a pink Marc Jacobs hobo bag, and on her feet, pink flip-flops. Since this, for Sidney, was remarkably casual, I wondered where she was going. Or was this just the outfit she picked out for dumping her best friend? “I called you, like, fifty million times. Didn’t you get any of my messages?”

“I turned my phone off,” I said crankily. “Who let you in here, anyway?”

“Liam,” Sidney said, looking down at her cuticles. “On his way to Quahog tryouts. I’ve never seen anyone so excited. So. Are you going to tell me what that was about last night, or do I have to pry it out of you?”

“Sidney,” I said. How was I going to lie my way out of this one? I really didn’t think there was a single way I could work this where I didn’t come out looking like a girl who’d cheated on her boyfriend with his mortal enemy.

If you could call kissing cheating, which, technically, I’m starting to be pretty sure it is. Sort of.

But before I could say anything, Sidney went on, “I only cruised by the Gulp last night because Dave was at his grandma’s, and I figured you’d be hanging with Seth in his truck, and I wanted to see if you guys’d be into grabbing something from the DQ. I didn’t think I’d find youin a liplock with some other guy.”

I couldn’t help it. I grabbed a pillow and smushed it over my face. That was how great my shame was.

Although I’m not sure shame is the right word for it. Because Sidney’s use of the wordliplock brought the memory flooding back of how Tommy’s lips had felt on mine. I could feel myself starting to blush. Not because I was embarrassed that she’d caught us, but because of how much I’d really, really liked it.

“I’m sorry,” I wailed into the pillow. “I don’t know what came over me! It was like I couldn’t help myself! He’s just so…cute! I mean, you’re the one who issued a hottie alert for him!”

To my surprise, Sidney didn’t even attempt to deny this. Which is astonishing, since she’s way concerned about her street cred, even if the only streets she ever ventures onto are the ones right here in Eastport…and Fifth Avenue in the city, of course, but only between 56th (Bendel’s) and 50th (Saks).

“Did I harsh on you?” Sidney wanted to know. “No. I fully understand. But what are you going to do about Seth? He’s gonna find out. I mean, this is a small town.”

I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly, so I removed the pillow, just to be sure. “Wait,” I said. “Did you just say youunderstand?”

“Of course I do,” Sidney said with a sniff. “That boy is a fine, fine example of the modern American male. How could you possibly have resisted? I wouldn’t have been able to myself.”

My heart warmed. Suddenly, I felt fonder for Sidney than I ever had in all the many years of our friendship. It’s true she’s super judgmental, totally shallow, and a huge gossip.

But she can also be the coolest of buds. Like the time I entered that photo contest inParade Magazine, and I didn’t win, and she took me to Serendipity in the city and split a frozen hot chocolate with me and didn’t once point out — as some people might have — that maybe the reason I didn’t win is because I don’t like or understand myself. Nor did she once mention how many calories we were consuming.

And now this.

“Oh, God,” I said, relief coursing through me like cool water after a long bike ride on a hot day. “Sidney, you have no idea — I can’t tell you how worried I’ve been. I was up all nightfreaking out over what you were going to say—”

“Are you joking?” Sidney looked shocked. “Why would I care who you mack with in your spare time? To tell you the truth, I’m a little relieved. I mean, it’s nice to see you’re actually human, for a change.”

I blinked at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, sometimes it’s like you’re perfect, or something.”

Now I was gaping at her.“What?”

“Well, it’s true. I mean, you’re disgustingly good at everything…school, the photography thing. Everybody likes you…even parents. You don’t drink, you don’t smoke. You don’t even put out. And in spite of that, Seth hasn’t dumped you yet.”

I felt a little less warm toward her. “Gee,” I said. “Thanks, Sidney.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. I’m just telling it like I see it. Except for the whole motion-sickness thing, you’re like Little Miss Perfect. Although, you know, better not let Seth find out about Mr. Football Camp, or he’ll flatten the guy’s face. And that would just be a waste. Now come on, get up. We’ve got hair and nail appointments at Spa-by-the-Sea, remember?”

But instead of getting up, I just stared at her. “Mister…what did you call him?”

“What?” Sidney had got up from my bed and gone to look at her reflection in the mirror over my vanity table. “Mr. Football Camp? Isn’t that how you met him? You said he’s some guy Liam went to football camp with. Oh my God, is that a blackhead? Oh, no, just a mascara fleck. Thank God. Hurryup, Katie.”

Fifteen

She didn’t know. I couldn’t believe it. But she really didn’t know.

Well, why would she? She’d seen me macking in the Gull ’n Gulp parking lot with a guy I’d told her had gone to football camp with my brother. Of course she didn’t know that guy was really Tommy Sullivan.

Because the last time Sidney had seen Tommy Sullivan, he’d been a foot shorter and…well, not hot. And because I had lied to her about his true identity at the beach the other day.

Once again, I was caught up in a tangle of my own lies.

But that didn’t mean I was about to fill Sidney in on the facts of the matter. I mean, I’m not stupid. If she believed the guy she’d seen me with was just some random dude we’d seen at The Point, who was I to disabuse her of that notion? It worked for me.

And, okay, I knew at some point she was going to figure it out. If Tommy hadn’t been lying about enrolling at Eastport High, Sidney was totally going to realize who he really was when school started.

And, yeah, she was going to be mad at me for lying.