скачать книгу бесплатно
No one will think to look for us there, except maybe The Mouse, who knows that the Castlebury Public Library is my favorite secret place. It’s housed in a white brick mansion, built in the early 1900s, when Castlebury was a booming mill town and had millionaires who wanted to show off their wealth by building grand mansions on the Connecticut River. But hardly anyone has the money to keep them up now, so they’ve all been turned into public properties or nursing homes.
Sebastian whips into the driveway and parks behind the building. I hop out and peek around the side. The beige Toyota is slowly making its way down Main Street, past the library. Inside the car, the two Jens are swiveling their heads around like swizzle sticks, trying to find us.
I bend over, laughing. Every time I try to straighten up, I look at Sebastian and burst out into hysterics. I stumble around the parking lot and fall to the ground, holding my stomach.
“Carrie?” he says. “Is it really that funny?”
“Yes,” I cry. And I collapse into another wave of laughter while Sebastian looks at me, gives up, and lights a cigarette.
“Here,” he says, handing it to me.
I get up, holding on to him for support. “It is funny, isn’t it?”
“It’s hilarious.”
“How come you’re not laughing?”
“I am. But I like watching you laugh more.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It makes me happy.” He puts his arm around me and we go inside.
I lead him up to the fourth floor. Hardly anyone comes up here because all the books are on engineering and botany and obscure scientific research that most people don’t want to bother trekking up four flights to read. In the middle of the room is an old chintz-covered couch.
We’re at least half an hour into an intense make-out session when we’re startled by a loud angry voice.
“Hello, Sebastian. I was wondering where you’d run off to.”
Sebastian is on top of me. I look over his shoulder and see Donna LaDonna looming over us, like an angry Valkyrie. Her arms are crossed, emphasizing her formidable chest. If breasts could kill, I’d be dead.
“You’re disgusting,” she sneers at Sebastian before she focuses her attention on me. “And you, Carrie Bradshaw. You’re even worse.”
“I don’t get it,” I say in a small voice.
Sebastian looks guilty. “Carrie, I’m sorry. I had no idea she would react that way.”
How could he have “no idea”? I wonder, my anger growing. It’s going to be all over the school tomorrow. And I’m the one who’s going to look like either a fool or a bitch.
Sebastian has one hand on the wheel, tapping the fake wood inlay with a ragged nail, as if he’s as perplexed by this as I am. I’m probably supposed to yell at him, but he looks so cute and innocent, I can’t quite muster the energy.
I look at him hard, folding my arms. “Are you seeing her?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s like being a little bit pregnant. You either are or you’re not.”
“I’m not, but she thinks I am.”
And whose fault is that? “Can’t you tell her you’re not seeing her?”
“It’s not so easy. She needs me.”
Now I really have had enough. How can any self-respecting girl respond to this nonsense? Am I supposed to say. “No, please, I need you too”? And what’s up with this old-fashioned “neediness” stuff, anyway?
He pulls into my driveway and parks the car. “Carrie—”
“I should probably go.” There’s a bit of an edge to my voice. But what else am I supposed to do? What if he does like Donna LaDonna better and he’s only using me to make her jealous?
I get out of the car and slam the door.
I race up the walk. I’m nearly at the door when I hear the quick, satisfying tread of his footsteps behind me.
He grabs my arm. “Don’t go,” he says. I allow him to turn me around, put his hands in my hair. “Don’t go,” he whispers. He tilts my face up to his. “Maybe I need you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE You Can’t Always Get What You Want (#ulink_2813890a-4170-5529-8bb1-a5a624f84a4e)
“Maggie, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says coldly.
“Are you angry at me?” I gasp.
She stops, turns, and glares. And there it is: The international girl face for “I’m mad at you, and you should know why, but I’m not going to explain it.”
“What did I do?”
“It’s what you didn’t do.”
“Okay, what didn’t I do?”
“You tell me,” she says, and starts walking.
I run through a variety of scenarios but can’t come up with a clue.
“Mags.” I chase after her down the hall. “I’m sorry I didn’t do something. But I honestly don’t know what that something is.”
“Sebastian,” she snaps.
“Huh?”
“You and Sebastian. I come to school this morning and everyone knows all about it. Everyone except me. And I’m supposed to be one of your best friends.”
We’re nearly at the door to assembly, where I will have to walk in knowing that I’m going to have to face the hostility of Donna LaDonna’s friends, as well as a small army of kids who aren’t her friends, but want to be.
“Maggie,” I plead.“It just happened. I didn’t exactly have time to call you. I was planning to tell you first thing this morning.”
“Lali knew,” she says, not buying my explanation.
“Lali was there. We were at the pool when he came by to pick me up.”
“So?”
“Come on, Magwitch. I don’t need you mad at me as well.”
“We’ll see.” She pulls open the door to the auditorium. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Okay.” I sigh as she heads off. I skittle along the back wall and hurry down the aisle to my assigned seat, trying to attract as little attention as possible. When I finally reach my row, I stop, startled by the realization that something is terribly wrong. I check the letter “B” to make sure I haven’t made a mistake.
I haven’t. But my seat is now occupied by Donna LaDonna.
I look around for Sebastian, but he’s not there. Coward. I have no choice. I’m going to have to brazen it out.
“Excuse me,” I say, making my way past Susie Beck, who has worn purple every day of her life for the last two years; Ralph Bomenski, a frail, white-skinned boy whose father owns a gas station and makes Ralphie work there in all kinds of weather; and Ellen Brack, who is six feet tall and is giving off the impression that she’d prefer to disappear—a sentiment I understand completely.
Donna LaDonna is oblivious to my progress. Her hair is like a giant dandelion seed, obstructing her view. She’s talking with great animation to Tommy Brewster. It’s the longest conversation I’ve ever witnessed between them. Nonetheless, it makes sense, as Tommy is part of her clique. Her voice is so loud you can practically hear her from three rows away.
“Some people don’t know their place,” she says. “It’s all about pecking order. Do you know what happens to chickens that don’t stay in their place?”
“No,” Tommy says dumbly. He’s noticed me, but quickly returns his eyes to their proper spot—on Donna LaDonna’s face.
“They get pecked to death. By the other chickens,” Donna says ominously.
Okay. Enough. I can’t stand here forever. Poor Ellen Brack’s knees are up to her ears. There simply isn’t enough room for both of us.
“Excuse me,” I say politely.
No response. Donna LaDonna continues her tirade.“And on top of that, she’s trying to steal another girl’s boyfriend.”
Really? Donna LaDonna has stolen just about every one of her friends’ boyfriends at one time or another, simply to remind them that she can.
“Notice I said trying. Because the most pathetic thing about it is that she hasn’t succeeded. He called me last night and told me what a”—Donna suddenly leans forward and whispers in Tommy’s ear so I can’t make out the word—“she is.”
Tommy laughs uproariously.
Sebastian called her?
No way. I can’t let her get to me.
“Excuse me,” I say again. But this time it’s much louder and with much more authority. If she doesn’t turn around, she’s going to look like a complete idiot.
She turns. Her eyes slide over me like slow-burning acid. “Carrie,” she says. “Since you seem to be a person who likes to change the rules, I thought we’d change our seats today.”
Clever, I think. Unfortunately, not allowed.
“Why don’t we switch seats another day?” I suggest.
“Oooooh,” she says mockingly. “Are you afraid of getting in trouble? A Goody Two-shoes like you? Don’t want to ruin your precious record, do you?”
Tommy throws back his head as if this, too, is hilariously funny. Jeez. He would laugh at a stick if someone told him to.
“All right,” I say.“If you won’t move, I guess I’ll have to sit on top of you.”
Childish, yes. But effective.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh really?” And I lift my handbag as if I’m about to place it on her head.
“I’m sorry, Tommy,” she says, getting to her feet. “But some people are simply too juvenile to bother with.” She brushes past me on her way out, deliberately stepping on my foot. I pretend not to notice. But even when she’s gone, there’s no relief. My heart is thumping like an entire brass band. My hands are shaking.
Did Sebastian really call her?
And where is Sebastian anyway?
I manage to get through assembly by berating myself for my behavior. What was I thinking? Why did I piss off the most powerful girl in the school over a guy? Because I got the opportunity, that’s why. And I took it. I couldn’t help myself. Which makes me a not-very-logical and perhaps not-very-nice person as well. I’m really going to get into trouble for this one. And I probably deserve it.
What if everyone is mad at me for the rest of the year?
If they are, I’ll write a book about them. I’ll send it into the summer writing program at The New School, and this time I’ll get in. Then I’ll move to New York and make new friends and show them all.
But right as we’re shuffling out of assembly, Lali finds me.“I’m proud of you,” she says. “I can’t believe you stood up to Donna LaDonna.”
“Eh, it was nothing.” I shrug.
“I was watching the whole time. I was afraid you were going to start crying or something. But you didn’t.”
I’m not exactly a crybaby. Never have been. But still.
The Mouse joins us. “I was thinking…Maybe you and me and Danny and Sebastian could go on a double date when Danny comes up to visit.”
“Sure,” I say, wishing she hadn’t said this in front of Lali. With Maggie mad at me, the last thing I need is for Lali to feel left out as well. “Maybe we can all go out. In a group,” I say pointedly, adding, for Lali’s sake, “Since when did we start needing boyfriends to have fun?”
“You’re right,”The Mouse says, catching my drift.“You know what they say: A woman needs a man about as much as a fish needs a bicycle.”
We all nod in agreement. A fish may not need a bicycle, but it sure as hell needs friends.
“Ow!” Someone pokes me in the back. I turn, expecting to see one of Donna LaDonna’s lieutenants. Instead, it’s Sebastian, holding a pencil and laughing.
“How are you?” he asks.
“Fine,” I say, heavy on the sarcasm. “Donna LaDonna was sitting in my seat when I got to assembly.”
“Uh-huh,” he says noncommittally.
