“Um, yeah, he did. So, in a way, all those times in the bathtub, you’ve been—”

“DON’T SAY IT!” Lucy said. And then ran for her room.

I can’t say I blamed her, either, really. For slamming the door so hard behind her, I mean.


 

Top ten things that suck about being the sister of the most popular girl in school:

10. When the phone rings, it is never, ever for you.

9. Ditto the doorbell.

8. The door to the refrigerator in the kitchen is completely covered in newspaper clippings featuring her. The only thing about you that’s up there is a postcard from the dentist, reminding you about your six month’s appointment.

7. She will never, ever be off the phone long enough for you to make a call.

6. Everyone expects you to want to be on the cheerleading squad, too, and then when you don’t, they act like there’s something wrong with you.

5. She always gets to do everything first, whether it’s go out with a boy, drive, see an NC-17 movie, spend Winter Break skiing in Aspen with a friend and her parents, you name it, Lucy’s already gotten to do it, way before me, and probably better.

4. When people compare us to characters in John Hughes movies, Lucy always gets to be Molly Ringwald, and I always have to be Eric Stoltz. Who isn’t even a girl.

3. There is nothing more demoralizing to a disestablishmentarian like myself than having to sit and listen to your sister’s chipper voice reading off the morning announcements in homeroom during Spirit Week.

2. She gets elected Homecoming Queen. I get elected art room trash monitor.

And the number-one thing that sucks about being the sister of the most popular girl in school:

1. I can’t even hate her. Because the truth is, she kind of rocks.


9

So I called him.

I don’t know why, really. Well, okay, I guess I do know why.

And it wasn’t because of Lucy’s breaking up with Jack, and me realizing how great David is, in comparison with her loser ex. I mean, I’ve always known David is great.

And it wasn’t because her impassioned speech about Hellboy made me more aware that the love David and I share—like the love Hellboy and Liz have for each other—is precious and a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. I already know all that.

No, the truth was, I took Lucy’s advice. About the bathtub thing.

And it totally worked.

I mean, way worked.

And suddenly the whole idea of spending Thanksgiving weekend with David just started to seem a lot more, um…interesting.

Not that I was ready to say yes to it, or anything. His invitation, I mean. I was still totally freaked out by the whole thing. But I was definitely more…interested than before.

The only problem was that David, when I finally got through to him on his cell later that night, didn’t seem quite as…interested.

Even when I explained to him that it wasn’t him. It was me.

“Seriously,” I said. “I want to…to…” I didn’t know quite how to put what I wanted to do. Have sex with you? Or should I use his vernacular (SAT word meaning “characteristic language of a particular group or person”) and say, play Parcheesi with you?

I found I couldn’t bring myself to do either, though, and ended up settling for, “…spend Thanksgiving with you, David. Honest, I do. But think about what people would say. If they found out, I mean.”

“Sam,” David said, in a voice I might almost have described as long-suffering. Only what was he suffering about? Boys have it so totally easy. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

Which was just so typically male of him.

“It’s just that there’s such a double standard if you’re a girl,” I explained. Or tried to explain. “Do you know what I’m saying?”

“Truthfully,” David said, in the same non-interested voice he’d been using since he picked up the phone, “I haven’t understood a single word you’ve said to me all week.”

God. I had really hurt his feelings. I definitely had some apologizing to do.

“Seriously, David,” I said, “it’s just something I have to work through on my own. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, really. It’s like…” I tried to think how I could explain it to him in a way he could understand.

And suddenly, from out of nowhere, Deb Mullins popped into my head. Debra Mullins, in her tiny dance team miniskirt, and her big blue eyes, filled with hurt after another run-in with Kris Parks.

“It’s like there’s this girl at my school, and there’s just a rumor she Did It—no one even knows for sure—and people call her all sorts of things to her face,” I said. “It’s horrible, I feel so bad for her.”

“Um,” David said. “Okay.”

“I mean, what about at your school? The same sort of thing must go on.”

“Uh,” David said. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess—”

“You guess?” My voice broke, I was so shocked.

“I don’t know,” David said. “I mean, I never noticed anything like that.”

Oh my God. I couldn’t believe it was so different at Horizon. But apparently, it was. Horizon must be like the Valhalla of private education, whereas Adams Prep is…well, hell.

“What about Right Way?” I demanded.

“Right Way? That dopey group your pal Kris Parks is in?”

“Yes,” I said, not bothering to mention that Kris Parks is hardly my pal, since he already knew that. At least, he should know that by now, after the number of times I’ve complained about her to him. “Because it gets out, David.” How could I make him understand? “No matter how discreet people are about it, eventually, it always gets out. And then they start in on you. Kris and the Right Wayers, I mean. Unless you’re one of the elite—like Lucy. But I’m not one of the elite, David. Sure, I saved your dad and got on TV, and all, but I am hardly a member of the popular crowd. Or any crowd, for that matter. And I just know they’ll be starting in on me next.”

“Who will?” David asked.

Oh my God. I really did think my head was going to explode.

“RIGHT WAY,” I said, through gritted teeth.

“But what do you care what these Right Way people say?” David wanted to know. “You don’t even like them.”

“Well,” I said, “no. But—”

“Who are they to pass judgment on everyone else?” David wanted to know. “Are they the school’s best and brightest?”

“Well,” I said, “no, they aren’t, necessarily. But—”

“I didn’t think so,” he went on. “Because if they were really all that smart, they’d know that abstinence programs, and all of that…study after study has shown they don’t work.”

I thought I hadn’t heard him right. “Wait…what?”

“It doesn’t work,” David repeated. “Just Say No? Kids who went through Just Say No programs in school are just as likely to experiment with drugs and alcohol as kids who didn’t, because those programs use hokey scare tactics no kid in his right mind is going to fall for. I mean, any moron knows you’re not going to become a homeless crackhead from one puff of marijuana.”

“Right,” I said. Because, um, if that were true, all of the stars in Hollywood would be homeless crackheads. I’ve heard what goes down at those movie premieres.

“All those programs do is make people who go ahead and try whatever it is they’re supposed to be saying no to—and believe me, more than half end up trying it—completely unequipped to deal with it,” David said. “Like couples who’ve pledged not to have sex. All that happens is that they end up having sex anyway, only they don’t use protection, because they don’t have any on hand, because all they planned on was just saying no. See? It doesn’t work.”

I nearly dropped the phone. “Is that…is that really true?”

“What, you think the Centers for Disease Control made it up? Because they’re the ones who did the study. So where those Right Wayers of yours get off, acting so high and mighty, I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either,” I said stunned by this piece of information.

“So…” David cleared his throat. “Are we okay now?”

“Totally,” I said happily. Just wait until the next time Kris started in on Deb! I was definitely bringing up that CDC thing.

“And did you have a chance to ask your mom and dad about Thanksgiving yet?” David wanted to know.

Yes! And they said yes!

That’s what I wanted to say. Well, what a part of me wanted to say.

But another part of me—a bigger part of me—was all, NO! Okay? No, I haven’t. This is a huge decision and even though I’m slowly coming around to it, I still need time. It’s true I’m deeply in love with you, and I’m totally positive you’re my one true love, but I’m only sixteen and I still have action figures on top of my dresser and I’m not totally sure I’m ready to put them away yet….

“Uh, no, I forgot,” I said.

Hey, I kept my fingers crossed while I said it.

“Oh,” David said, sounding only a little disappointed. Like, not as disappointed as I would have thought he’d be. “Okay. Well, let me know. Because my mom wants to know how big a turkey she should order.”

Whoa. Was that some kind of code for I need to know how many condoms to purchase? I thought about telling him he didn’t need to worry about that part of it. But then my call waiting went off.

“That’s my other line,” I said, kind of startled because it was so late at night. I mean, the only other person who ever calls me on my cell is Catherine, and her parents make her go to bed at eleven on school nights.

“Okay,” David said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, anyway.”

This kind of surprised me.

“Tomorrow?” Tomorrow was the Return to Family town meeting on MTV. “You’re coming? With your dad?”

“Well, yeah,” David said. “But we have life drawing before that. Remember?”