You win

Chapter Three

I sulked and sat in my self-pity for a good amount of time, willing the clouds above me to open up and drench me to the bone.

But then I got an idea. And just like that, my pity party was over. I ran inside to find Carter in front of the TV, watching some soccer game. I stood directly in front of him, blocking his view of the television.

“You make a better door than a window,” he commented, trying to shove me to the side.

I resisted. “Do you still talk to that Katie girl? The editor of the newspaper?” I asked him, the words practically tumbling out of my mouth.

“I guess,” Carter said dully. “Why?”

“Because you owe me and this involves her.”

He sighed. “You really need to get over this contest thing, Caroline. You lost. It happened. Can we move on?”

“Only as long as you can get me some space in the newspaper,” I replied. “It doesn’t matter how small. I just need something.”

He said something back but I didn’t hear him, because I was already halfway to my room. When I got to my desk, I took out a pen and paper and attempted to write. But nothing sounded good enough. I couldn’t translate all the things in my head to actual words. I’m sorry, wasn’t enough. I’m an idiot, would get me nowhere. Carter is an idiot, would get me less than nowhere. My momentum came to a screeching halt.

I needed a genius idea.

My cat, Fred, entered the room and started twirling himself around my legs. I picked him up and set him on my lap. He looked at my Super Fish, Clark, swimming around in his fish tank like he wanted nothing more than to eat him. “No, Fred. You cannot play with Clark.” I stuck my head in his line of vision. “How do I make Luke understand?” I asked him.

He looked at me blankly. I scratched behind his ears and he started purring.

I heard the pounding footsteps of my brother coming up the stairs.

“You know what I just realized?” Carter asked, standing in the doorway of my room.

“That you’re an idiotic numbskull with no hope whatsoever?”

“You kissed my best friend,” he stated.

I looked at him. “Obviously.”

“So,” he foraged on. “That means that I get to kiss your best friend.”

I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, right, buddy. Maggie would never let you kiss her.”

“How do you know?” he asked. “I think she—”

I gasped. “Maggie!” I leaped out of my chair and pushed Carter out of my room, closing the door behind him. I grabbed my phone from my bed and dialed her number.

“Hi,” she said. Carter banged on the door, but I banged back and that seemed to get rid of him. The commercials were probably almost over.

“Luke kissed me and I need your help,” I blurted out, collapsing onto my bed in a heap of confusion and teenage girl angst.

She laughed. “I thought I already showed you how to kiss boys, Caroline. Like, five years ago.”

“Not that!” I cried. I then proceeded to tell her everything—my impromptu plan for revenge, backing out of said plan, Carter ruining everything as usual. “What am I supposed to do? He thinks I was just using him.”

“You mean to say that you’ve developed a little crush on your brother’s best friend?” she asked. “Oh, this is rich.”

“Stop it,” I said. “Just help me.”