Free Kiss And Blog by ALSON NOËL Page B

bottom drawer, patiently awaiting an audience that will never show. And I wonder if it’s too late to return them.
     
    For the rest of the day, I fully committed myself to avoiding Sloane, figuring I could accomplish this by frequenting places that cheerleaders rarely go, like, for instance, the library, and the immediate area surrounding my locker. Yet wouldn’t you know it, the more I went out of my way to evade her, the more it seemed like she’d multiplied. Seriously, I’m so not kidding. It was like she was
everywhere.
    Then, right before lunch, I’m in the bathroom washing my hands at the row of white porcelain sinks, when she walks in, looks right at me, and freezes like a statue.
    “Congratulations,” I say, forcing my face to remain as neutral as my voice, as I turn away from the sink and reach for a handful of beige paper towels.
    “Thanks.” She shrugs, gazing down at the ground, pressing her lips together like she always does when she’s nervous.
    “So, I guess that’s it.” I stare at her, willing her to look at me.
    But she just grabs the end of her ponytail, pulls it around to the front, and starts inspecting it for imaginary split ends that I know don’t exist. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally says, shrugging for emphasis.
    “Our plan,
Sloane. You know, the one we spent the entire summer working on? The one where we swore we were in it together? The one where we promised that whoever got there first, would keep the door wide-open for the other. The onewhere you actually had me draft out a contract so that neither of us could default. Does that ring any bells?” I ask, narrowing my eyes and waiting for a response.
    She releases her ponytail, letting it swing back and forth before settling into place, then she takes a deep breath, and says, “Listen, Winter, I know you think-”
    But before she can finish, Jaci walks in. And when she sees Sloane she breaks into a huge smile and goes, “Listen well, and listen good, we’re stormin’ through your neighborhood!”
    Followed by: clap—clap-clap—clap clap clap clap clap clap!
    Oh. My. God.
    Those are my words!
    My clap sequence!
    And my cheer!
    And they stole it!
    I stand there in shock, suddenly realizing the major role I inadvertently played in their social elevation. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I think it’s Pulitzer prize—winning material, but still, obviously it worked.
    Then Jaci makes this high-pitched happy sound as she jumps up and down and hugs Sloane.
    And Sloane hugs her back while staring at me from over her shoulder.
    And me? Well, I just slam out of the bathroom and head home.
    That’s right, I just bail right out of there, and walk off campus, as though I don’t have three more classes ahead of me. And when I get home, I head straight for my room, throw myself on my bed, and totally lose it for much longer than I care to admit.
    And when I finally roll over to reach for the box of tissues my mom always puts on the table between our beds, I see the plane tickets.
    And that’s when I decide to go to New York.

 
    Eight
     
    I didn’t leave a note for my mom. And I didn’t call my dad. I figured I’d contact my mom once I’d safely arrived in Manhattan (so that she can cancel the Amber Alert). And my dad? Well, since I already knew how to get to both his apartment and art gallery, I figured I’d just show up at his doorstep and surprise him. And even though I realize how easy it is for a plan like that to backfire, ensuring that I’m the one who ends up getting the big surprise, the fact is, I just can’t trust that he won’t suddenly get all parental and tip off my mom. So you can see how I might be more than a little reluctant to RSVP.
    And since I packed pretty light, have been to the city a few times before, and was unwilling to blow my admittedly meager funds on a cab ride, I bought myself a one-way Metro card and hopped on the subway, riding it all the way into