Free The Girlfriend Project by Robin Friedman

"The public's fickle. Act on the moment. You're the flavor of the month. Next month someone else will be It."
    I try not to frown, but I can't help thinking that the differences between the two of us have been highlighted so much in
     the past few weeks it's astounding we're friends at all. When did Lonnie become so . . . superficial? Was he always like this?
     On the other hand, who am I to judge? The last thing I want to be is a whiny, ungrateful, goody-two-shoes Boy Scout—even though
     technically I am a Boy Scout.
    Rhonda Wharton walks across the school cafeteria toward our table. She's hugging her textbooks to her chest nervously, but
     this shy-schoolgirl thing only makes her more adorable.
    I stare down at my tray as she approaches our table, wondering if I should spend the rest of the period in the library. I'm
     weighing my options for so long I fail to notice Rhonda standing quietly in front of our table, shifting uncomfortably from
     foot to foot, waiting for me to look up. When I don't, she whispers my name, and that's when it dawns on me. She's walked
     clear across the school cafeteria, in plain view of everybody, to see me.
    I gaze up at her with my mouth open. Then I come to my senses. It isn't right for her to stand there, looking so awkward and
     uneasy, while I'm sitting down. So I scramble to my feet, so quickly I almost knock over my chair. It isn't a smooth gesture,
     but I think she appreciates it anyway, because she smiles.
    I shoot my friends a quick glance. It lasts for only a second, but I manage to catch Lonnie's mischievous wink and a go-for-it-Reed
     signal from Ronnie.
    I decide in that instant I've been too hard on them, especially on Lonnie. He's my best friend—he only wants to help me. I
     decide I'm going to do what he wants. I'm going to make him proud. I inhale deeply, take Rhonda's elbow, and lead her to a
     quiet corner where we can talk privately. It takes everything out of me to do this, but I'm glad I do. In a way, it's downright
     suave. And Rhonda seems to appreciate it too, because she's practically beaming at me.
    She fastens me with doe eyes that make me want to melt on the spot. "Reed, will you . . . Can you . . . Do you think you can
     . . . give me a ride home today . . . after school?"
    I smile. "It would be my pleasure, Rhonda. Reed's Car Service is always at your service."
    Rhonda giggles, but I have to wonder, Where on earth did that come from? That wasn't me talking at all. That was . . . Lonnie.
    It sure sounded good, though.
    . . .
    Rhonda lives a ways from school in one of those new housing developments on the edge of Marlborough. McMansions, I call them.
     The land on which Rhonda's house is built used to be an apple orchard, but the only trace of that quaint past these days is
     the name of the development: Apple Tree Estates.
    I guess I don't have to tell you New Jersey is the most densely populated state in the country. And we have the most shopping
     malls per square mile of any area in the world.
    On the other hand, did you know we have more racehorses than Kentucky does?
    We're pretty complicated, I guess.
    Like a lot of other things.
    Rhonda and I make awkward small talk on the way to her house. Honestly, I'm relieved when I finally pull into her driveway.
     I can't take much more of this. It's nerve-wracking. Besides, I don't have any breath mints on me.
    "Do you want to . . . come in?" Rhonda asks, and her cheeks immediately turn scarlet.
    I freeze. My mouth replies, "I have to go to work."
    This is a completely true statement, but the way it comes out sounds like I'm making excuses, like I don't want to come in
     at all, which is partly true and partly false. Of course I want to come in! On the other hand, I'll probably drop dead before
     I reach the front door. I've never, ever been inside a girl's house—not counting Ronnie—and I don't know the first thing about
     it. This is too much. I need a tip list! And some breath mints!
    "Oh, okay," Rhonda