Tuesday -- 12:14

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I take another step closer to my Spanish classroom, Lawrence following next to me. His hand is sweaty. It feels sort of uncomfortable to hold his sweaty palm at school, but I see Clarissa and Deirdre smile, so I do it anyway.

"So," Lawrence starts, looking at the ground, "did your mom check her schedule?"

Fuck.

"Uh, yeah, about that..." my voice trails off as I think of my dad talking at dinner.

"What?" Lawrence asks, flashing blue eyes at me. Why do I keep lying to him? It's time I tell the truth.

"My mom hasn't checked yet. She says she will today, after school."

I hate you, Marie.

"Awesome," he says, shifting his eyes towards the ground again. We arrive at the door to my Spanish class, marking the part of the day where we separate so I can learn a foreign tongue and he can go to Freshman English. "Hey," he starts again, "there's a kind-of, sort-of party at Abe's house after the Winter Formal on Friday." Shit, I forgot about the Winter Formal. It's another grind-fest of a dance, just like homecoming—but in winter form. "So I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

Party? I think about all the ones I've seen on TV and in movies. It seems fun, but if I ever went to something like that my parents would slaughter me.

He stares at me, waiting for my response. It's a bit weird of him to ask me to a random party before asking me to go to the actual dance with him, but I brush the thought. He just wants to have fun with me there, and that's sweet of him.

"Yeah," I stammer, "Of course."

"Awesome," he smiles, then plants a kiss on my mouth. It's slobbery, and I'm not prepared for it. "I'll call you later."

"'Kay." I smile back. He gives a little wave and turns to go to his English class.


"So?" Clarissa asks, poking me. I stare up at the teacher, who isn't looking at us.

"What?" I whisper.

"Did he ask you to the dance yet?"

"Yeah." I mean, he sort of asked.

"I'm gonna cry," she says, adjusting her baseball cap. I look at it. Pink. "Vineyard Vines" is written across the front in white lettering, just above a whale.

I look at her confused.

"It means I'm excited," she assures me, "Jesus. Lighten up." She laughs a little and pretends to take note of something the teacher says before asking me another question.

"Do you know if Abe is having a party after the dance?" she doesn't look at me. I assumed she was already invited.

I stare at her, her hat, then back at her—thinking of how often she asks me about Lawrence instead of ever asking about me; and, I realize how much I don't want her at the party.

I breathe in, "No," and out, "I don't know about any party."

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