The Good Girls

Chapter 11

A FEW HOURS LATER, EVIE let Doug take her hand as they walked across the parking lot downtown. She couldn't believe they were doing this, right out here in front of . . . well, everyone. And more than that, she still couldn't believe he wanted to.

People passed them on either side. Evie didn't recognize anyone from school yet, but she knew they would be here—it was Thursday night, prime hanging-out-downtown time. Then a familiar girl slipped around the corner. She had a navy Marc by Marc Jacobs satchel that Evie recognized, because Evie had the same one.

Crystal? Evie's heart started to bang in her chest, and her palms felt clammy. She pulled her hand away.

"What is it?" Doug turned to look at her.
Evie flinched. "Nothing. Sorry. I just thought I saw someone over there."

Doug eyed her for a moment, then shrugged and gestured to an American Apparel store. "Want to go inside?"

"No!" Evie said it a little more forcefully than was normal. But everyone at Auradon Prep shopped at American Apparel. Surely someone she knew was in there.

Doug was looking at her even more strangely now. She swallowed hard and tried to regain her composure. "American Apparel is so mainstream," she said in a flip voice. I have a secret place I like around the corner. It's so hip that the workers look down on the customers. If you don't have cool facial hair or tattoos or, like, read the right indie blogs, they'll roll their eyes.

Doug raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure I'm cool enough to go?"

She smiled in spite of her nerves. "You, Doug, are the coolest of the cool."

"Even without creative facial hair?"

"Please don't get creative facial hair," Evie giggled.

Then Doug leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Evie peeked around to see if anyone was watching, but all the passersby were minding their own business. Of course they are, she told herself. She needed to just relax. She could do that, right?

They walked to the corner and turned toward the smaller streets just off the main drag. Evie's favorite boutique, Tara's Consignment, was ahead. It was where she bought most of her clothes; designer cast-offs at a fraction of the price, all she could afford on her lifeguard salary. As she took in the Gone with the Wind display in the windows—the owner was obsessed with the movie—she thought back to the last time she'd been shopping at Tara's. She'd bought Mal a studded bracelet. Not that Mal had even worn it.

Mal. Things still felt off between them. They hadn't really talked about what happened to Mal's dad—or the coincidence of him dying not long after Evie had named him in class. Even though Evie still wasn't sure anyone overheard them, she had to admit it was a strange coincidence. She wished she knew what had happened to the notes Jay had taken on the yellow legal pad, documenting what they'd said. She'd sworn she'd taken the pad, but when she'd riffled through her things, it wasn't there.

On top of that, Mal was disappearing more and more often lately, and it seemed like she couldn't remember where she'd been. And whenever Evie asked, Mal got weird and cagey, like she was hiding something.

"Evie." Doug's voice pierced her thoughts. They were standing in front of Tara's now. A few kids with Technicolor-dyed hair who Evie didn't recognize edged past them to go inside.

"Sorry," she said brightly, smiling. "What did you say?"

Doug placed his hands on his hips. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

Evie sighed. This was exactly why she'd never had a boyfriend—she knew she'd never be able to hide her feelings. She wanted to be totally transparent for Doug, she really did. But it wasn't easy.