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.Her eyes widen.“What? I’m just telling the truth.” She turns to the others, waiting for them to defend her.Nobody does.“Fine,” she says eventually.“I’m going to say hi to Sam.” Then she stalks off toward the boys, shooting me a dirty look in passing.“Brooklyn is kind of excitable,” Dizzy says to me when she’s gone.“She thinks everyone is genetically flawed.”“That shooting has everyone on edge,” Lexus say.“Let’s try to forget about it, though.No use obsessing about it.Once we know all of the PROFILE results, we’ll know exactly who to avoid.”“Right,” Dizzy says confidently.Then they change the subject—so quickly that it takes me a minute to catch up.When I do, I realize they are talking about Dizzy’s ex-boyfriend, some guy named Josh Heller.Dizzy points at him in the distance for my benefit.“Isn’t he hot?” Lexus says.I guess I could see how he might be attractive to some, but the baby face and wavy red hair don’t quite do it for me.In the dim light, he looks like he could be Pippi Longstocking’s older brother.“Not really,” I say honestly, but everyone ignores me.They all watch him move toward the lakeshore, a beer in each hand.He stops near January.“Josh Heller’s mom has more money than God,” Ruth says to me.“Not that I care.But ever since she married David Kable, she’s rolling in it.”“Jesse’s dad,” Dizzy supplies for my benefit.“Have you met Jesse yet?” She sucks in her breath.“Oh, yeah.He was in the closet with you that day.I’m sorry.”“It’s okay,” I say.“He seems pretty…” I search for the right word.“Pleasant.” It’s not really what I mean, but I can’t find the words I want.Dizzy laughs.“Pleasant?”“You obviously don’t know about his past,” Lexus says as she runs her fingers through her hair, her head tipped backward.“What about it?” I ask.More gossip.These girls are absolutely full of it.“Well…” Dizzy says, giving Lexus a complicated look.“It’s all just rumors.Be quiet, you guys.Jesse saved her life.She doesn’t want to hear this.”“Yes, shush,” Cuteny says.“Besides, it’s rude to talk about people behind their backs.”Lexus laughs loudly.“When did that ever bother you, Cute?” She turns back to me.“There’s been a rumor going around, since forever ago, that Jesse was stalking this older girl who broke up with him.She had a restraining order against him.”“Allegedly,” Cuteny notes.“Allegedly,” Lexus repeats.“It’s probably not even true.You know how rumors are.” We all nod.“I don’t care if he is a stalker.Because Jesse is yummy!” Cuteny yells.Everyone giggles.“And Sam,” she adds, doing a fake make-out session with her hand in front of her face.Clearly, this girl wants every guy at QH.I wonder how she feels about Bucky Roy.Suddenly, I feel really tired and startlingly out of place, like a zoo animal, or some kind of unusual Minnesota wildlife—a black-tailed prairie dog on display for these Oklahoma predators.I walk away.Nobody stops me.***I walk down one of the docks scattered around the lake.In the night breeze—with the noise of the party behind me—I feel like I can finally relax.I can think out here.I let my feet dangle, the bottoms of my heels skimming the lake water.A breeze ruffles my hair, and I reach to adjust my barrette.“Hey,” someone says.I whip around.“Oh, hey,” I say, struggling to stand up.“No,” Jesse says.“Stay there.” He walks toward me and takes a seat a few feet from me.He brings one leg up, squaring his foot on the dock, moving his body away from mine.We don’t say anything at first.I play with a rock that I’ve found on the ground.“Who are you here with?” he asks me.“Nobody.Just hanging out with Dizzy and company.”“Ah,” he says knowingly.“And you?”“With January.”“Really?” I say, surprised.Jesse doesn’t seem to fit into the three major groups I’ve identified at QH.He’s definitely not a farm boy, but he isn’t preppy and All-American like Sam either.And he’s certainly not a stoner loser, like that kid Nate Gormley.So what’s he doing with January, who is, by Brooklyn’s standards, anyway, a total genetic land mine?He must read my mind.“We’ve been friends for a long time.Since we were little kids.” He sounds defensive, even though I’ve said nothing.I just nod.It takes a second to dawn on me.“So you knew the shooter.”He doesn’t answer, at first.“Yeah,” he finally says.“I knew him.”“Did you know that…I mean, did you ever suspect that he would do something like this?”“We were friends.At least, I thought we were.”We listen to the voices in the distance, the tinkling of beer bottles clinking, cans crushed in fists.He breaks the silence first.“I try to keep an eye on her.On January.She’s depressed.You know, this whole thing with her brother has been really hard for her.”“I can imagine.”“She’s been drinking too much—she’s getting herself into dangerous situations.It’s weird to see her like this.She used to be so—sweet.Full of life.Smart.Funny.” He stares wistfully.“Now she doesn’t care what happens to her.She’s…” He trails off, as if he can’t think of what to say.She’s what?He starts over again.“I just wanted you to know that…” He pauses.I throw a rock in the lake and watch it sink into the blackness of the water.“I just wanted you to know that she’s not my girlfriend.But we are very close.”“Oh,” I say.It’s the answer to the very question I wanted to ask.Not that I ever would have asked.It’s too forward.I make a point never to chase guys.It’s a policy I live by.We sit for a long time without talking before we both get up to leave.On the walk back to the parking lot, Jesse swings his hands, making fists as he walks.He pauses abruptly when we pass some geese nosing around the sidewalk.It’s past eleven now—not a time you usually see geese out—but all the artificial light and noise and people must confuse them.They are like college students, vampires, or night-shift workers: the absence of sunlight is hardly cause for sleep.“Hey, there,” Jesse says, bending over.The geese are obviously tame, used to people feeding them.One of them pecks at his open palm and squawks angrily when she discovers there is no food.“Sorry,” he says to the goose in a voice that is tender and soft.The sounds of squawking geese are replaced by a girlish scream in the distance.It echoes.It’s not a scream of a girl in danger so much as a scream of a girl who is trying to get a guy to notice her.“That’s January,” Jesse says.“Do you think she’s predicted?” I wanted to ask the question before.It’s rude to ask it now, but I can’t help it.“We’ll find out eventually [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]