Free Also Known As by Robin Benway

hands back down at her sides and glared at me. “I don’t know which of your five senses doesn’t work, but in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any friends.”
    “Well, okay, maybe not here at school, but …”
    “No friends. Nowhere. Nada. No one’s told you yet?”
    “No one really talks to me,” I admitted. “I don’t have any friends either.”
    “Well, at least there’s hope for your friendless life.” She glanced down the street. “God, I need a cigarette.”
    “You smoke?” I gasped before I could help myself.
    “Not anymore. I quit last year. The teeth bleaching was getting too expensive. You know.”
    “It’s so bad for you,” I said. “The smoking, I mean, not the teeth bleaching.”
    “Well, yeah, that too. Look, here’s the deal. I’m just going to tell you because clearly someone has to, and it might as well be me.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, as serious as I had ever seen her. “Last year, I slept with this girl Julia’s boyfriend, and it really upset her because it was true love, et cetera, and I screwed it all up for her. Literally and figuratively. And for some reason, everyone else has taken her side.”
    “For some reason?” I repeated. “Roux, that’s kind of a big deal.”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know, it was … I didn’t mean to, let’s just say that.”
    “So everyone just stopped talking to you?”
    She was looking guiltier by the minute. “Well, I had kind of not really been nice to a lot of people. Like, ever. At all. And it’s a small school and karma’s a bitch, as they say.”
    “Were you a Mean Girl?” I asked. “I saw the movie.”
    Roux paused for a long time before finally saying, “Yes. I was a bitch to people. I talked about girls, made up rumors, all of that. Ever since fifth grade.”
    “So now you’re persona non grata,” I said. “Wow. Social justice, like, never happens. I’m sorry!” I told her when she frowned and started to walk away. “I’m really sorry, it just slipped out.”
    “Yes, please, enjoy my karmic retribution.” Roux didn’t even turn around as she walked away. “Forget I said anything. Good luck with your party.” She disappeared up the street and around the corner, lost in the midafternoon crowd.
    Fifteen minutes later, as I was trudging toward Gramercy Park to think, my civilian phone rang. “Hello?”
    “Hi.”
    “Hi?”
    “It’s Roux. Wow, answer your phone much?”
    “Oh, hi!” I said. I hadn’t had a friend call me on the phone since, well, ever, so this was kind of a big deal for me. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to the caller ID.”
    “Yes, I can tell. Look … I’m sorry for being allawkward and walking away. I don’t really talk to anyone about what happened … so, yeah. Sorry. Sometimes I’m weird.”
    I grinned. “S’okay. Sometimes I’m weird, too.”
    “I know.” I could tell she was smiling when she said it, though. “Are you still at school?”
    “No, I’m just heading home,” I said as I kept walking farther away from home. “And I’m sorry, too. That was a really rude thing to say. True, but rude.”
    “Fair enough. Apology given and accepted. Now do you still want a party?”
    “Of course.” I ran my hand along the side of the grate along Gramercy Park South, my fingers making thudthudthud sounds along the iron bars. “Are you going to bite the bullet and throw one?”
    “No. But I heard that Jesse Oliver is.”
    I came to a screeching halt. “Are you serious? How do you know?”
    “I heard this girl talking about it after I walked away. She’s a senior, she knows things. We used to be fr—anyway, he’s having a Halloween party in two weeks. You’re welcome.”
    I couldn’t stop the stupid grin that was crawling up the sides of my face. “This couldn’t be more perfect!” I squealed. “Is he having it at his house? When is it?”
    “Yes, and Halloween night.”
    I gleefully punched the air, attracting absolutely no