The Adaptation of Mardean Rose

By Shay Feist

Mardy Birch's dream of living a movie fantasy is falling apart.
Forrest broke up with her last week, but she still hasn't shown any sign of recovery. Not to mention that she's got a cocky, insufferable nerd as a chemistry partner, making non-hostile communication difficult. And if that wasn't enough, she still hasn't picked a college, and graduation is less than two months away. Even with her friends' support, extensive movie collection, and all of the best '80s hits, she still can't seem to get it right.
But then, almost as if she really were on the set of a romance film, an unexpected incident brings the arrival of a charming distraction…
Could this actually be Mardy's answer? A cliché chance to snag her very own famous happy ending?
Well, she's definitely willing to find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350908893

Book preview

Scene 1: Wednesday, April 11

(A Little Past 7:45 A.M.)

kay, picture this. 

Complete silence. The camera scans from my neck down, highlighting my form-fitting denim jacket and shimmery red tank top. It glitters in the beautiful, spring morning sun, contrasted by the purple cord that runs up to my earbuds. Then, the increasingly louder organ intro of George Michael’s Faith begins to sound. As it builds, the camera slowly travels farther down, revealing that the cord is plugged into the phone I’m holding in front of me, my fingers scrolling across the screen. Keep panning down as the organ gets clearer, and my jet-black leggings come into view. Down my thighs, my knees, and finally resting on my tan leather combat boots. Still focused on my shoes, the organ stops, and the smooth guitar notes of the song come to life. I tap my heel to the rhythm. As soon as he starts singing and the beat kicks in, my feet leap off the front porch steps and onto the sidewalk. Soon enough, my feet effortlessly move in sync with the music’s light-hearted flow. Maybe I even start dancing a little bit, and this is where the camera finally sees my face.

Well, not my face, but the face of some pretty actress who’s playing me in the movie adaptation of my life. Her skin is naturally tan, and her dark hair is gorgeous. But whoever she is, she will not be wearing glasses. I hate my glasses.

Anyway, back to the scene.

You can see my whole body at this point, and I’m really jamming out to the song, dramatically lipping the words and everything. This is the part where the movie’s opening credits appear in the open space around me as I continue down the sidewalk, my book bag happily bouncing behind me. Coming down the street—

Mardy! Don’t leave without me!

Mentally, the music screeches to a halt as my younger half-sister calls after me. The movie vanishes before my eyes, melting the sidewalk into what is actually my paved driveway.

Hurry up, Evey! I yell back, running as fast as I can to my well-loved silver Mustang. I scramble into the driver’s seat, slam the door, and rapidly press down on the lock button.

Evelyn’s almost caught up to me now, but she’s too late, trapped outside the car. She’s screaming as she approaches me, her words muffled by the doors. She struggles to keep her book bag strap over her shoulder, her duffle bag hanging on her arm, and her soccer ball in one hand, while the other frantically yanks on the door handle, as if this will help unlock it somehow.

Mardy! she shrieks again, now resorting to repeatedly pounding on the window.

Hysterically laughing, I reluctantly unlock the door, even offering to grab some of her stuff from her so she can get in easier.

She glares at me, yanking her belongings closer to her chest.

I laugh some more.

She jams her stuff behind her seat, purposely slamming her butt into my face.

Hey, now, save that for Gabe Hill! I shove her with my shoulder as she awkwardly twists to sit down in her seat.

Mardy! Punching me in the arm, her eyes and smile both widen in embarrassed alarm. You didn’t tell Mom, did you?!

"That you have a crush on a thirteen-year-old? I wouldn’t dare." I dramatically slam my hand over my heart. 

Seriously, Mardy, she pleads with all sincerity.

"Come on, Evey. Yeah, he’s thirteen, but he’s only four months older than you. You’re in the same grade. It’s not a big deal."

"Okay, but really, Mardy. Please don’t say anything. I don’t want anyone knowing except you." She clasps her hands together to complete the begging look.

I smile at her. As long as you don’t tell Mom that I wasn’t really sick yesterday.

My lips are sealed. She sternly nods in affirmation.

Well, I hope they aren’t when Gabe asks you out, at least, I casually reply while looking over my shoulder to back up.

Mardy! she giggles and slides farther down in her seat, blushing with a dorky smile. You really think he’s going to ask me?

I steal a glance in her direction to see her looking up at me, eyes full of hope and innocence. I can’t help but smile. Of course, Evey. Look at you. How could he not?

Even though she looks nothing like me, she is super cute with her long, honey blond hair, fair and freckled preteen skin, naturally pink lips, and endearing blue eyes.

She dramatically flips her wavy tresses over her shoulder and giggles. "So, what did you do yesterday?" she asks, cocking her head.

Wouldn’t you like to know.

I turn on music, and we listen to classic rock for the remainder of the ride to Kronk Middle School.

Mom’s picking you up from practice, right? I ask as Evelyn tumbles out of the car.

A-huh. She tries to stabilize the mess in her hands.

Okay. Love you. Tell Gabey I said hey.

Suppressing a smile, she turns to walk away.

When I get to the high school, Tawni Ripple and her red car sit in their usual spot, waiting for my arrival by the big oak tree.

With a heart-shaped face, flawless brown skin, and plentiful black curls, my best friend is stunning. She has a graceful yet sassy smile, which she is giving me as I park next to her.

Before my door is even open all the way, Tawni’s mouth is already moving.

Wow, I’m so glad to see you’re feeling better today, Mardy. Her tone is blatant as she winks. So, how’d it go with Clay?

"Well…we had fun, I guess, but it wasn’t anywhere near the fun Forrest and I used to have." I force a weak smile.

Did he at least like the dress? Tawni tries to cheer me up as we slowly become part of the herd of students flowing towards the front doors.

Of course, he did. They all do. But I think his favorite part was when I finally let him touch it. I stick out my tongue and hold it between my teeth, winking back at her.

She laughs. I’m glad you’re able to make jokes about it.

Yeah, I’m alright. I hesitate. For the most part.

Tawni stops walking to brush my arm, and I see the concern in her eyes. Mardy—

T, it’s fine. Seriously. I smile again. "We’ve only been broken up for eight days, so I can’t logically expect to get over him this quickly. And honestly, getting a rebound didn’t really help, either. If anything, it just made me feel worse. Especially because it was Clay Iffy. Man, you really know how to pick ‘em." I playfully nudge her.

"Right, I get it. And I’m sorry. I should’ve known; his last name’s literally Iffy. I admit he’s not my best work," she says.

Babe, you talkin’ about me again?

Loudly chuckling as always, Slater Vanson saunters up and flings his arm around my best friend’s shoulders. She rolls her eyes as he kisses her cheek.

Her boyfriend’s skin is very dark, and his hair’s shortly cropped. He’s tall, broad, and worships the ground Tawni walks on.

Slater directs his attention to me. Hey, how’d it go with what’s-his-nuts yesterday, Mars?

"Okay, okay, we are not talking about my sister’s sex life in front of me, please." My twin brother, Roby, comes out of nowhere, shoving my book bag from behind.

We honestly don’t even look alike. I mean, apart from the same curly dark hair and brown eyes, there are practically no similarities. Hell, I straighten my hair every day, so we don’t even have the curls going for us. Plus, I wear glasses; he wears contacts.

Piss off. I push him back.

With pleasure. I’m gonna catch up with Kayla before class. Later, losers. Roby gives Slater a fist bump before dashing off to meet his girlfriend.

To answer your question, it didn’t exactly work out. I return my focus to Slater, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. And unfortunately, we have first period Chemistry together. He made sure to remind me yesterday. More than once, I groan.

"At least yesterday was mid-term. That means only a month and a half left of high school. Then we’ll graduate, and you’ll never see him or Forrest again. Actually, one day less for you since you played hooky to—"

Okay, Slater, not exactly making it better. I toss him a lazy glare.

Look on the bright side, Tawni jumps in. You don’t have any classes with Forrest, so that should make it easier.

I guess. I shrug, feeling more discouraged the more I think about it.

Hey, chin up, buttercup. I wuv you. She uses her pouty voice and puppy dog eyes, bringing the slightest smile to my face.

Love you too. See you guys at lunch. I wave as Slater and Tawni veer to the right hallway, and I continue walking straight towards Mrs. Pertie’s lab.

My movie is going great so far. Ha.

Like they have been for the past week, my thoughts jump to Forrest and his perfect, square jaw. But all thoughts are swept away when I reach the lab’s open doorway. 

My usual seat next to Amanda Olsson—the only person in Chemistry that I actually like—is taken. Not only is my seat taken, but it’s taken by Keli Escott, the biggest bitch I know.

It doesn’t take her long to notice me staring, almost like she was waiting for me to find them. Her smile is so disgustingly sappy, which only makes me want to rip off her fake nails even more.

Trying to control my breathing and facial expressions, I walk through the doorway and approach their table.

Good morning, Mardean. So lovely to see you’re feeling better today. Her sneer remains as she brushes her shiny, red ponytail over her shoulder.

What the hell is going on here, exactly? I realize my plan to stay calm has failed as I turn my eyes from Keli to Amanda.

You look really cute today, Mardy. Totally rocking the denim jacket. Is it new? Amanda is obviously wincing behind her phony smile, poorly attempting to dodge my question.

"Amanda, what the hell is going on?" I try not to raise my voice, but I don’t try that hard. I’m pissed, and I want both of them to know it. 

Well, Mardy, we chose lab partners for the final project yesterday. And you weren’t here yesterday, so Mrs. Pertie wouldn’t let me choose you. Amanda shrinks again, anticipating my reaction.

And then a terrible lump thuds in my stomach; Clay was gone yesterday too. Which means that everyone else besides Clay and me were chosen as partners.

No, God, this can’t be happening!

Welcome back, Mardy.

I turn around to meet Mrs. Pertie’s eyes, about ready to really scream this time. My breathing starts to quicken, but I really don’t want to take out my inhaler right now in front of everyone, so I focus on calming down, trying to breathe slowly and evenly out of my mouth as I wait for her to continue.

"It turns out that Clay, Jake, Shane, and yourself were all out sick yesterday when we chose partners. Shane’s still out today, but I’ll let you pick any of the three gentlemen you’d like if that would make this tragic shock a little less devastating for you. The two you don’t pick will be partners."

I stare at her and try not to reveal that I’m instantly relieved I don’t have to be partners with Clay.

But really, the alternatives aren’t any better. Jake Smith is a professional asshole and science nerd. Shane Straub is just a quiet reject…that I may have gotten friendly with one time when we were both drunk at a party last year…

Shit.

Starting to panic because the whole class is looking at me now, I somehow utter Jake’s name without even realizing it.

I know Clay usually sits at the second table to my right, so without shifting my eyes in his direction, I head to the back of the room where I’ll find my new partner.

As I walk towards Jake Smith, he glares at me with eyes such a deep shade of green that I can hardly make out the pupils. They contrast with his pale skin.

In all honesty, Jake has the potential to be kind of cute. He’s always wearing long pants and flannels or bulky sweatshirts, but his face has some promising muscle structure. It’s somehow blended with an edgy, boyish quality too. His nose is straight and rounded on the end, and his teeth are perfect and white. He has shaggy brown curls, but not the gross and unkempt kind you find on most geeks. They’re a comfortable length, and I like how they spill over his forehead, just tickling the tops of his eyebrows.

So, yeah, pretty cute, but nonetheless, still a dick.

When I get closer to Jake, I can now see that his nose is red, and his eyes seem heavy. He then bursts into a coughing fit that makes me jump.

Wait, were you actually sick yesterday? I ask plainly.

He whips to face me again, and if looks could kill, I would be dead. Fuck you. He continues glowering as I sit down next to him.

A lot of people would, I reply smugly.

God knows why… he mutters under his breath, but I know he purposely says it loud enough for me to hear. "Ya know, I thought popular sluts were supposed to be pretty blonds with big boobs and contacts, but it seems that you defy all of those stereotypes." A stupid smile now spreads on his stupid face.

Completely appalled, I quickly come back with, I have sensitive eyes, you prick. And I thought nerd nobodies were supposed to be zit-covered virgins with big brains and glasses.

"Well, I guess you thought wrong on all accounts. He winks at me before his cocky grin abruptly vanishes and he starts shaking his head. Why the fuck did you choose me as your partner, Mardy? You could have just gone with Clay, and I would have gone with Shane, and we would have all been happy. But no. You had to be a bitch like always. At least you’re consistent, I guess."

It’s hard to say how this petty rivalry between us began, but I think it’s been going on since middle school, maybe. All of high school, at least. We always have insults lined up for whenever we get the pleasure of crossing paths.

Now just trying to ignore him, I discreetly take my inhaler out of my bag and take two puffs before putting it back inside.

Hey, Mardy.

At the sound of my name, I snap my head up. And there’s that thud feeling again.

Clay Iffy. Wanna-be blond, pretty boy. God, can we cut this entire scene from the movie?

I wanted to let you know you don’t have to worry, he says. I’m not upset that you didn’t pick me to be your partner. I understand that you want to keep business separate from…pleasure. He awkwardly gives me a suggestive smile accompanied by a quick arch of the eyebrows.

I can’t tell which, but Jake either scoffs or snorts at Clay’s comment.

You know, we should be sick more often… Apparently trying to be seductive, he puts his hands on the desk and leans closer towards me, his eyes grotesquely intense.

"Actually, turns out I just had some kind of bug yesterday. It’s kinda like chickenpox; you get it once and then you never get it again. Thank goodness, right?" I smile sweetly, but not sweet enough that he can’t tell I’m strongly declining his offer.

It definitely sinks in, though, because his facial expression transforms from seduction to confusion and almost anguish. He just looks at me for a moment before quietly breathing, Cunt, and then walking away to sit at a table by himself, partnerless for the rest of the class period.

As soon as Clay is gone, Jake gushes into entertained cackles, holding his stomach. I know why you chose me as your partner! He stops to catch his breath and cough. "I’m the only guy in this room, let alone your partner options, that you haven’t gone out with or slept with! I knew about Shane but not Clay!"

His laughter is ringing in my ears, but it suddenly stops. "Oh my god, does Forrest know? Does he know you played sick to cheat on him with Clay?"

No. He doesn’t know. Because I didn’t cheat on him. We broke up last week. Try to keep up, asshole. And no. I did not choose you because I’ve never gone out with you. You’re just the only guy who knows what he’s doing. Clay and Shane are idiots. I start to fidget with my hoop earrings, hastily defending myself even though I know he’s already caught me.

"Yeah? Is that so? You said that nerds were supposed to have big brains. Which means you’re implying that I have a small brain. So, you didn’t pick me because you think I’m smart, Mardy. He pauses. You definitely chose me because you skipped school yesterday to hook up with Clay Iffy. That is so pathetic! Ya know, Mardy, he continues, I don’t think your life should be made into a movie. I think it’d make more sense as a soap opera cuz there’s so much drama. No one knows who’s sleeping with who. No, wait! How about a sitcom because it’s so miserably hilarious?"

Jake’s smile remains as he searches my face for a reaction. I barely resist giving him one. A violent one.

"Actually, I’ll have you know that I am, in fact, pretty good at school. I just get a bad rap because I hang out with Dustin Dime. I love the guy, but he really is about as sharp as a broom handle. Well, I will admit I suck at English; I know that. But chemistry is my shit. Any science, really. Occasionally, some math. I’ve got a 104% in this class. But if you thought there was any fucking chance I was going to help you get your grade up because we’re partners, then you—he sneezes and continues—definitely thought wrong."

That same thud resurfaces in my stomach, but for a different reason now.

He’s right. I have an 81% in this class. That’s a B-, the only non-A grade that I have because science really isn’t my shit. But it’s fine. I still have a month and a half to get it up.

Assuming I don’t kill my lab partner before that.

Scene 2:

(Lunch Time)

o, yeah, he called me a cunt, and then that was the end of it." I smother my undercooked fry with barbecue sauce before putting it in my mouth.

I’m gonna kick Clay’s ass next time I see him, Roby casually mumbles, taking a breath from his inhaler.

"That’s really lame, but the Jake thing just sounds crazy, M. What a dick," Tawni says as she takes a swig of vitamin water.

Oh well. Whatever. He didn’t say much else for the rest of class. I’m used to him being a dick, anyway.

"Yeah, but why, though? Why is he such a dick to you?"

I’m surprised by how interested Roby has been through this whole conversation. He’s barely touched any of the three slices of pie he bought. 

He’s literally given you no explanation, he says, stabbing at the crust. I’ve known you longer than anybody, and I can’t even recall anything that could have happened to make him hate you. It pisses me off. Not only am I the only guy who’s allowed to be a dick to you, but he doesn’t even have a reason. In all honesty, I would punch him straight across the face if I ever got the chance.

Yes, Roby and I are twins, but he’s technically older by two minutes. I guess he thinks that means he has to take on the big brother role. Which entails treating me like a piece of trash but still protecting that trash at all costs.

Slow down there, killer. Kayla smiles and nuzzles Roby’s arm, causing his hardened expression to soften.

My brother’s girlfriend is an adorable, brown-eyed blond. Kayla Carnegie’s a junior, but she and Roby couldn’t be a better pair. I’ve loved her to death ever since they started dating a year ago. K has definitely become an irreplaceable part of our friend group and just one of the girls. Instead of MT, we’re now MTK. We like to think of ourselves as Cher, Dionne, and Tai from Clueless. But with a few more IQ points.

Seriously, guys, it’s fine, I say. Like you said, Slater. There’s only a month and a half left of high school, and then I will never see Clay, or Jake, or—

Forrest.

He makes and maintains eye contact with me. The whole time he walks by our table with his friends, our eyes are locked.

I take in everything that used to be mine: his pitch-black hair, suckable lips, and those absolutely irresistible, blue eyes that make my brain tipsy and my heart sob.

His eyes are so expressionless now, which just pains me more, and he only looks away when they get to their seats over by the windows. The same seats by the windows that I used to be welcome at on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I guess I’m staring for a while after Forrest has already stopped because Tawni eventually slaps my arm, bringing me back to the people who actually do care about me. The ones sitting around my table by the lunchroom doors that I’m welcome at every day. Kayla on my left, Tawni on my right, and Roby and Slater sitting next to their girlfriends and each other. 

I look down at my chicken sandwich and fries, embarrassed, and instantly lose my appetite. I can tell they’re all looking at me, but I still don’t lift my head.

Do you think he knows about Clay? I mumble as I start to fidget with the corner of my napkin and cross my legs, wishing so badly that I really could be listening to George Michael while jumping off my front porch right now.

"Probably. But who cares. He broke up with you." Tawni instantly advocates for me, starting to lightly rub my back.

"Which means that you can do whatever you want, with whoever you want. Fuck him, Mars." Slater finishes Tawni’s statement with that look he has when he’s being genuine.

I bite my lip and take a shaky deep breath, holding it inside for a while before liberating it.

Please don’t cry, Mardy, T’s voice is gentle as she puts her arm around me.

I jerk my head up. "I’m not gonna cry. You know I don’t cry over boys. That’s stupid. He’s stupid."

Damn right, he is. Kayla releases Roby to wrap her arms around me and Tawni in one of her paramount hugs. This makes me feel a little better, but I refuse to smile.

Then we’re all quiet for a while. At this point, no more of Roby’s pie has made it to his mouth, but he’s definitely stabbing it into an unrecognizable condition. His brooding scowl doesn’t exactly make me want to smile, either.

Hey, why don’t the three of us go to Pace after school? K gestures to me and Tawni. We haven’t been in a while, and some endorphins will do you some good. She gives me the sweetest smile.

Ya know, having sex also provides the brain with endorphins. The end product is a lot more satisfying than just lifting two-pound dumbbells, too, Slater says with a smirk, it not taking him long to return to his charming self.

Tawni punches him in the arm as he and Roby start chuckling.

Unamused, Kayla frowns at them. "Okay, well, we’ve already proven that getting laid isn’t what Mardy needs to feel better, Slater. What’d ya say, MT?"

Scene 3:

(Almost 4:00 P.M.)

fter school, the three of us make runs home to get changed, and then we meet back up in the parking lot of our local gym and exercise center.

Tawni beams, scanning my purple tank top and matching booty shorts. Ooh, you look like a tramp. I love it! she squeals. 

It really is a world of difference to hear your best friend call you a slut compared to some asshole at school.

Who knows. I wouldn’t mind picking up a guy at the gym. I wink at her and start tying up my hair into a high ponytail—it’s nearly waist-length when it’s straightened.

At that moment, in perfect timing, this smoking hot redhead with impressive biceps and an attractive five o’clock shadow exits the door, holding it open for us. He makes sure to blatantly check me out as I walk through, and then he flashes me a brilliant, white smile that makes me want to jump his bones right there.

Once we’re inside and Mr. Sexy is outside, Tawni squeals again and nudges me. "Mardy, that sounds great, but not a thirty-year-old! You’re not even legal yet!"

"Ladies! Kayla snaps at us. Someone has to be the voice of reason here, and neither of you are going to do it. So, even though I am the youngest among the three of us, I bring it upon myself to inform you that picking up guys is not the purpose of this trip. We are here to clear our minds and focus on our beautiful selves." She closes her eyes and puts her hands in a meditation position.

We all giggle and head for the rowing machines. Before sitting down, I take two puffs on my inhaler.

One thing’s for sure. If someone ever did make a movie about yours truly, the movie version of me would definitely not have asthma. Or glasses. Or curly hair. Or a boring life full of depressing twists.

Speaking of you not being a minor anymore, what are you planning for your eighteenth birthday, Mardy? T pushes a stray coil of black hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I’ve still got three weeks, so I don’t really know. Roby and I are celebrating together like we always do, but this year it’s gotta be big. Definitely bigger than our sixteenth birthday.

Then a really sweet guitar riff starts sounding by my feet, and I lean down to pick up my ringing phone, recognizing the tone as the one I set for my mom.

Hey, Mom. What’s up? I hold the phone up to my ear with one hand while the other maintains its grip on the rowing machine’s handlebar, allowing me to move back and forth along the rail.

Mardy, where are you? She sounds exhausted.

I’m at Pace with the girls. You’re still at work, right?

Huh. Yes. That’s why I’m calling.

I can tell by the pitch of her voice that she’s rubbing the bridge of her glasses with her eyes closed, exactly what she does whenever she gets stressed out. Yeah, I’ve got her to thank for my awful eyesight.

"I was going to pick Evelyn up from practice on my way home, but her coach called to tell me that Evelyn wants to go home now. Evidently, she has a terrible migraine and a bloody nose that just won’t quit. Egan’s still at the office, and Roby’s at a dentist appointment. Which means…there’s you."

My body immediately tenses up.

Would you mind so terribly picking her up right now?

I really, really don’t want to, but Mom already sounds like she’s having a rough time, so I reluctantly agree without arguing. 

I’ll make it up to you. We’ll order food from wherever you want tonight.

Okay. But that doesn’t really make up for me having to leave my friends on our workout date that was meant to temporarily remove my heartache.

Please give my apologies to the girls.

Right. I’ll see you at home, then. I sigh and close my eyes.

Thanks, honey. Love you.

Love you too. I hang up and throw my head back.

Everything okay, M? K stops rowing, concern in her eyes. 

Yeah, Evelyn’s not feeling good, so I’m picking her up early from practice. Sorry, guys. Gotta postpone the whole ‘finding ourselves’ shit. I stand up and straighten my shorts out. Mom says she’s sorry, though. I change my normal tone to a mocking one.

Aw, that’s okay. Give Lanah and Evey our love. Oh, and Egan, too, of course. Tawni gets up to hug me. Kayla does the same.

Talk to you guys later. Love ya.

I leave the gym feeling really glum, so I connect my phone to the stereo’s AUX cord and turn on some go-to ‘80s tunes in hopes of lightening my mood.

It helps somewhat but does nothing to keep my thoughts from wandering everywhere. The whole way to the middle school, my thoughts bounce between Roby, Clay, Jake, Mom, and Forrest. 

Huh. Maybe tomorrow is the day my movie starts.

I get to the middle school and pull up next to the edge of the practice field. I see Evelyn start walking towards me with both of her bags and her soccer ball in her hands while still managing to hold a wad of tissues up to her nose. She makes brief eye contact with me through the windshield before hurriedly looking down.

Something else is up.

And then it hits me how selfish I’m being. I didn’t even think about how she must be feeling right now.

I quickly grab my phone and change the track from my favorite Genesis song to her favorite Ed Sheeran song.

Upon reaching the car, she somehow opens the passenger door, and she immediately stops as she hears the music playing. She looks at me again, and I think she’s about ready to start crying.

We don’t say anything, but I take her bags from her and throw them in the back. She slinks down into the passenger seat and silently buckles her seat belt. We sit for a moment.

Is it still bleeding?

She nods.

Take the tissues away and pinch your nostrils closed. Hold it until we get home.

She still isn’t talking but does exactly what I say.

I switch to reverse and start backing up.

Thank you for the song. She finally speaks, and I can’t help but laugh because her voice sounds weird.

You’re welcome, I softly chuckle. Now, you gonna tell me what happened?

I set the music to an Ed Sheeran playlist as we leave the parking lot.

She hesitates before replying. That b-word Daisy kicked a fricking soccer ball straight into my face with full-fricking force, and I’m pretty sure it was on purpose. I fell down, and my nose started bleeding. My head fricking hurts because the blow actually made my fricking teeth rattle. I didn’t even fricking do anything to her.

Even though her voice is altered by her plugged nose, I can hear the tears coming to her eyes.

Well, sometimes, people are just bitches, Evey. You don’t have to do a single thing, but they’re mean, anyway. Both Keli’s and Jake’s stupid faces flash in my mind.

That’s stupid. She’s a b-word, and I hate her. 

I laugh again. Okay. But go on. Tell me about the rest.

The rest?

Don’t act dumb. I know something else is up, Evey.

She continues staring straight ahead for a while longer.

Something with Gabe? I hope not, but I think I’m right.

My hypothesis is proven correct when Evelyn finally breaks, heaving her shoulders as she starts to sob. 

Evey. Evelyn, come on. I want to hug her really tight, but I keep my hands on the wheel and steal more glances at her when I get the chance. Talk to me. Please. What happened with Gabe?

She takes in a really deep and shaky breath. He ignored me the whole day. In every class. And it wasn’t like we just didn’t get the chance to talk to each other. He literally walked away when I went up to him. He went out of his way to get away from me, Mardy. Now, explain that one. I didn’t do anything to him, either. She starts crying again, and I can only imagine the amount of snot that is now accompanying the blood in her nose.

Well, are he and Daisy friends, or exes, or something? Cuz maybe something was said between them to inspire his avoidance and her bitchery.

No. No, they don’t know each other.

Great. That means he made the decision to avoid you on his own. I know my phrasing sounds like it should be sarcasm, but I’m serious, so I try my best to make sure my tone comes across as such.

Evelyn’s eyes narrow. I guess my tone didn’t go through.

Okay, Evey, that’s a good thing. Seriously. Have you ever heard the expression, ‘It’s not you; it’s me’? Well, sometimes, it’s actually true. Gabe knows you didn’t do anything, but he’s probably avoiding you because he doesn’t know how to handle his feelings for you. He may think that you don’t like him back, so it’s kinda painful to be your best friend if the feelings he has for you aren’t returned. It feels really weird talking to my twelve-year-old sister like this, both the word choice and the topic.

Her expression softens a fraction, but I can tell she’s still confused.

Okay, do you actually believe he likes you?

"Well, yeah. I mean, boys think they’re so mysterious, but they’re actually just so predictable. Gabe’s really easy to read." She pauses to smile, but only just a little.

So, ask him what’s going on, Evey. Or just flat out tell him you like him. You’d be surprised how relieved guys are when you actually just say what you want instead of making them figure it out.

But that’s not nearly as fun. She giggles a giggle that I’ve never heard out of her before. I can detect subtle hints of evil behind it, which only makes me laugh too.

"Okay. I’ll talk to Gabe tomorrow. He could have just talked to me, though. So I’m mad at him for that. But I’m sure your day was better than mine, yeah?" She turns to me, hopeful.

Actually, I laugh, my day was pretty crappy too. You know that c-word you asked me about last week?

Yeah?

Well, a guy at school called me one today.

Horrified, she gasps, and her eyes widen. It wasn’t Forrest, was it? Even though she had a bad day herself, I can see and hear her sympathy for me. Evelyn has always been such a sincere and empathetic soul, one of the many reasons why I love her.

"No. Some other loser. Oh, and that too. I’m stuck being partners with another loser for the next month." I hate how many times Jake’s face has popped into my head today.

Ugh. I’m sorry, Mardy. At least my bad day’s gonna end. Yours is gonna last four weeks. Ya know, we should totally make tonight a movie night.

"That would be perfect. I’m thinking a double feature: Never Been Kissed and Notting Hill. And Mom even said that since you had such a bad day, you can pick wherever you want to eat tonight."

My lie suddenly makes her beam as she replies, Definitely feeling nachos.

Even more perfect.

Scene 4: Thursday, April 12

(The Beginning of First Period)

ake. Jake, do you have any ideas?" Irritated, I repeat myself for the third time now as Jake just smugly smiles and hurriedly moves his fingers across his phone screen. The remnants of his cold make him snuff every few seconds.

Jake! I resort to slamming his shoulder with my textbook.

His eyes flash wide, and he sneers at me. Fuck’s sake, Mardy! Pop a few extra bitch supplements with your breakfast this morning? His head bobs in annoyance. "What?"

I asked you a question, I reply promptly, my mouth tight.

"And?" He just stares at me and waits for me to fill in the blank. 

Who are you texting?

That’s not what you asked.

You heard me? Now I’m pissed.

He gives me that stupid smirk that I’ve become accustomed to seeing. Why does it matter to you who I’m texting?

"If they’re going to distract you while I am trying to get this project started, then it definitely matters to me. Who is it?"

If you must know, it’s my girlfriend. Jake’s grin deepens, anticipating my reaction.

"You? A girlfriend? No way. And if so, there’s no way she goes here. She from Merryweather?" I snort.

"You? Single? Wow, I guess the world really is ending," he mocks me, that stupid look on his face really starting to irk me.

Okay, asshole, you—

In one quick motion, Jake whips his phone towards me and snaps a pic. He instantly starts laughing.

What the hell do you think you’re doing? I smack him again, this time with the back of my hand and as much force as I can muster.

He doesn’t stop laughing. He just flips the phone around so I can see my picture displayed on the screen.

Seriously, jackass. What are you doing? I can feel the temperature of my face growing hotter.

Ooh, someone’s got a bee in her bonnet. He grins more.

"Jake."

Well, if you must know, my girlfriend sent me a picture of her computer skills class—she hates it—so I decided to send her a picture of something I hate. The casualty of his remark pushes me to the breaking point.

I have no idea what comes over me, but without even thinking, I hit Jake for the third time, but not in the arm. This time, I slap him straight across the face. I just slapped Jake Smith across his stupid jerk face. And hard enough that a red handprint appears on his left cheek.

He doesn’t do anything except gawk at me with his jaw slightly dropped. I can hardly believe it myself. It gets even more unbelievable when I somehow manage to snatch his phone from his hands, throw it on the tile floor, and squeal with excitement as it shatters into a million pieces.

I’m totally kidding.

I wish I wasn’t, though. But that’s how the scenario would have turned out if I was in charge of my own damn movie, but it appears that I am not. What total shit.

Instead of slapping Jake after his photo explanation, something even stupider happens. For some reason, I start to feel that familiar stinging in my eyes and the back of my throat when tears are threatening to show themselves.

Yeah, he’s said some pretty messed up stuff to me—so has Keli—but no one has actually said that they’ve hated me before. Especially to my face. I guess he didn’t directly say that he hates me, but he definitely got his message across. And it makes me feel really…weird. I don’t know.

One thing I do know is that I don’t cry over boys.

It takes me a few moments of concentrating and keeping my mouth shut to shove the tears back inside before they get the chance to appear. I fiddle with my hoop earrings and force myself to breathe. Once I’ve composed myself, I remain quiet. Surprisingly, so does he.

The remainder of class doesn’t yield any more verbal exchanges, which puts me in a sour mood for the rest of the school day, and it even lasts all the way up to when I clock in for work.

All three of us girls work at the Café-Teria, a café and cafeteria-style restaurant. Tawni and I were actually hired on the same day a little under two years ago, and Kayla’s been here since she started dating Roby. Sure, my mom owns and operates the local organic grocery store, and she’s constantly asking me to come work with her, but I get discounted food and coffee because I work here. Duh. It’s also where everybody who’s anybody hangs out in town. The gossip that floats around on both sides of the counter is rich.

Eavesdropping usually lifts my spirits, but today, I honestly couldn’t care less. Not even when Carmen Jennings openly told Tiffany Ream in the self-serve line that she has chlamydia. 

My head keeps on bouncing. Just like it did yesterday too. Luckily, Tawni works with me just about every Thursday, tonight being one. And of course, because Tawni’s been my best friend since elementary school, it doesn’t take her long to figure me out.

Why are you letting Jake get to you all of a sudden? His shit’s never fazed you before. T talks quietly as she eyes me from the other side of the hot-food bar, putting out more cups of macaroni and cheese.

I don’t know. I shrug as I attempt to scrub away the dried tomato soup on the metal counter from where some idiot fumbled with his tray while trying to push it down the line. "Well, usually we bump into each other, he calls me a bitch, and I call him an asshole. It’s always quick and simple. But over the past two days, I’ve sat next to him for a collective two and a half hours. Two and a half hours, T. It’s miserable." Thinking about Jake gives me the aggression I need to remove the last bit of soup.

Well, that makes sense, but you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with Forrest? Tawni whips around with her now empty tray and heads back into the kitchen before I even have the chance to reply.

I immediately fast-walk to catch up with her, clenching my teeth harder than I probably should be. "Why would Forrest have anything to do with it?"

M, I know you’re taking the break-up kinda hard. And that leaves you kinda vulnerable and insecure, okay? Jake is a total douche—we know this—but you shouldn’t let him, of all people, affect your mood. She pauses to smile. I guess K’s speech didn’t sink in enough yesterday.

We both laugh as Tawni, wearing a goofy expression, sets down her tray to replicate Kayla’s meditation hands.

Suddenly, in the direction of the front counter, I hear another laugh. A masculine laugh. It’s really soft and sort of bashful. Gentle and sincere. Attractive, even.

Very interested in confirming whether or not the sight is as lovely as the sound, I turn my head towards the counter.

"You have got to be shitting me." The words tumble out of my mouth as my inquiry is immediately answered.

My gaze meets the deep green eyes of Jake Smith as he effectively flirts with the barista, handing her exact change.

Upon seeing me, his smile—perhaps the first real one I’ve ever seen—instantly drops.

Damn it… he says, moving his head out around Bridget to get a better look at me in my work uniform. I know you hang out here on Tuesdays, so I try to steer clear. But you work Thursdays, though?

Yeah? I narrow my eyes and cross my arms.

Alright, note to self: steer clear on Thursdays too. But, hey, when you want a smoothie, the only place to go is the Café-Teria. Jake’s eyes shift back to Bridget, his smile resurfacing.

She giggles like a complete ditz, brainwashed by his charm. 

Get the hell out of here, Jake.

Mardy! Bridget glares over her shoulder.

Hey, it’s fine. I will. You just gotta give me my smoothie first. He gives me that stupid smirk.

Without saying anything else, I begin making his—gag—mango pineapple smoothie. I purposely add more ice to the blender to make it thicker than usual. Once it’s finished, it’s a little difficult to pour into the cup, but I manage.

I hope he chokes on it.

I snap the plastic lid on and politely hand the completed beverage to its buyer with a blatantly fake smile. "Enjoy your disgusting smoothie. Have a wonderful night, prick."

Aww. Thanks, skank. I’m sure it’ll be just as wonderful as your mood on Opposite Day. See you in Chemistry, partner.

He smiles one more time at Bridget before parading out the door like he’s some sought-after delicacy.

Bridget turns to me. "He’s your chemistry partner?! You are so lucky. He’s so hot!" She flutters her eyelashes, and it makes me want to puke. Did she not just hear him call me a skank?

You go to Merryweather High, right, Bridget?

Yeah.

That would explain why you’re so oblivious.

She scoffs at me, and I walk away before she can say any other patronizing thing.

After this, the rest of the night isn’t any better, but at least it isn’t any worse. Francine, our crotchety, middle-aged manager bitched at me for using that kind of language when speaking to a customer. Whatever. Tawni tried to cheer me up with more talk about my birthday, but it didn’t really help. I was actually relieved when the dinner rush came in because I actually got to work. No talking, but just blissfully working and keeping myself occupied. Once it hit ten, I said good bye to T, scurried to my car, and blasted some classic rock.

Now, when I finally get home, I’m disappointed to find that Mom’s gone, Roby’s still over at Kayla’s, and Evelyn’s already in bed.

I actually haven’t seen Evelyn since I dropped her off this morning because I went straight to work after school. I wonder how her talk with Gabe went. I guess it’ll have to wait till tomorrow.

Fortunately, my stepdad, Egan, is waiting up for me, watching the late news in the kitchen and eating a bowl of cereal.

I guess you could say he looks like how the average dad should. Generically handsome, honey blond hair, blue eyes. And comfortable in his dad-bod. Evelyn gets all of her looks from him while Roby and I are spitting images of Mom.

Hey, Eg-Dad.

Hey, Mar-Daughter. We greet each other with the