“I mean it, Savannah. I’m not going to let you run off and upset everyone at your house because they don’t know where you are.”

Which just goes to show you how arrogant he was. He just assumed I’d planned on turning the night into a big production where I disappeared and Jane got to worry that I’d run away from home or something. Well, okay, maybe that did sound like a good idea, but still, it was arrogant of him to assume that sort of thing about me. I didn’t look at him. My purse thumped against my side in an angry rhythm.

“Savannah, get in the car.”

The park came into view. I picked up my pace.

“You’re being melodramatic about this.” Well, he could just add that to the list of my other faults he no longer had to put up with.

“I’m not leaving and I’ve got a full tank of gas.” Of course he did. Organized people always kept their tanks full.

I made it to the park and finally turned to him. “If you want to follow me, fine. Have fun driving through the swing sets.” I left the sidewalk and walked across the 41/431

grass. The park sat in the middle of our neighborhood, surrounded by houses, and more than a few streets ran up to it.

I didn’t have to look back to know what Hunter would do. He would sit in his car and watch me walk across the park until I headed toward a street. Then he’d drive around and head me off on that street.

I strolled toward the first street opening on the right.

Before I got out of sight I turned to check and see if his car had left. As soon as it had, I doubled back, walking the same way I’d come. Except that instead of walking home, I turned on Emily’s street. Really, Hunter was almost pathetically easy to lose. Which just goes to show you that college bound doesn’t necessarily mean street smart.

I stayed at Emily’s for the next three hours. Not really long enough to worry my parents. My curfew on week-days is 10:00 PM. If Jane knew I wasn’t with Hunter anymore and worried about me—fine. If she thought I was out with her new boyfriend until past 10:00—even better. I sat with Emily on her bedroom floor, cried, and ate Oreos. The whole time Emily told me what a great catch I was and how I didn’t need Hunter. What kind of jerk hits on his girlfriend’s sister? What kind of sister steals boyfriends from family members? They deserved each other.

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I nodded at everything she said but couldn’t agree with any of it. It felt like the people who knew me best didn’t care about me. In my mind, Hunter’s list of my faults kept growing. All of my popularity was a sham. I didn’t really have anything going for me. I was disorganized, irresponsible, and didn’t take my classes seriously.

Which probably showed a lack of ambition, talent, and dependability. Obviously there was something permanently wrong with me, something too huge to fix.

And on top of all that I had a cream silk and chiffon prom dress hanging in my closet that cost me three hundred and fifteen dollars. I didn’t want to return it to the dress shop. How humiliating would that be?

Emily must have sensed that her pep talk wasn’t working— probably because I kept making Oreo skyscrapers and shoving them in my mouth. She finally took the package away from me. “Savannah, someone else will ask you to prom. Someone better, someone who appreciates you, and then you’ll see Hunter was wrong.” I nodded. I still didn’t believe her.

When I walked into my house at 10:15, my parents and Jane sat in the family room talking in harsh, sub-dued voices. I knew they were talking about me because they stopped as soon as I walked in. Three faces turned toward mine. My parents’ expressions were concerned.

Jane’s showed a mixture of worry and defiance. She 43/431

didn’t speak. I knew she was waiting for my accusations; I could already see her lips poised in defense.

“You owe me three hundred and fifteen dollars for a prom dress,” I told her, then walked upstairs to my room.

• • •

I ate oatmeal without sugar the next morning as a sort of dietary penance for my Nabisco sins. I imagined the little oat flakes “tsk-tsking” as they floated by blobs of fat that were headed straight to my thighs. It was the only reason I could think of to be happy that I now had to walk to school. I wasn’t sure if Hunter would still drop by the house to offer me and Jane a ride, but there was no possible way I was going to get in the backseat and watch Jane sit beside Hunter. So it was just best to be long gone before he came.

While I ate, Mom tried to talk to me about the whole situation. She’d also tried last night, but I’d told her I was tired and just wanted to go to bed. Jane came into my room last night too and gave me her side of the story, which was pretty much like Hunter’s side of the story, except that her eyes didn’t look away from me as she told it. When I didn’t comment she added, as though it should explain everything, “Hunter and I will both be going to George Mason in the fall. You didn’t think that 44/431

a freshman in college was going to keep dating a junior in high school, did you?”

Yes. But I didn’t say that. I just added “immature” to my mental list and said, “Would you mind turning off the light on your way out? I’ve got to get up early in the morning.”

She sighed and left.

So Mom gave me a concerned-parent pep talk as I ate my oatmeal about how she was disappointed in Jane’s choices, but if it hadn’t been Jane, it would have been someone else. Dating had its ups and downs. After all, at this point in my life I wasn’t looking for a future husband. I should be dating for fun, to learn about relationships, to see what kind of qualities I liked in a guy. I would go through many more boyfriends before I found the right one.

Which, I can tell you, is not what you want to say to your daughter when you are trying to cheer her up. I wanted to say, “Really? You mean I get to feel like the bottom of my stomach has been manually ripped out with each relationship I go through? I can hardly wait to get back to the dating market.” But of course I didn’t say that because none of this was my mother’s fault, unless you count the fact that she gave birth to Jane.

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Besides, I’d finished crying about it when I’d finished my last Oreo skyscraper. As Dad would say, I’d taken my losses, now I needed to regroup, rethink, and plan the next offensive. Which in this case involved getting someone even cooler to ask me to prom in order to show Hunter and Jane that I didn’t need or care about them.

I nodded at Mom. “I’m fine. Really.” She reached over and patted my hand. “I know you will be. Just remember, boys come and go. Sisters are forever.”

Jane swept into the room, walking by the kitchen table and scanning the counters. “Has anyone seen my chemistry folder? I left it on the coffee table and now it’s gone.”

I picked up my glass of milk and took a slow sip.

“Nope.”

She hurried out of the room, mumbling.

I ate my oatmeal. Mom watched me in silence. Finally she said, “Maybe after school the two of us can go out and do something. Would you like that?”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Jane came back into the room, this time with her hands on her hips. “My brown shoes are gone too. They were in my closet last night and now they’re not. What happened to them?”

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I took the last bite of my oatmeal and shrugged.

“Don’t know.”

She pulled her gaze from me and turned to Mom. “If I can’t find my brown shoes, I’m going to have to change my entire outfit. They’re the only shoes that match these pants.”

I stood up to take my bowl to the sink. “Don’t be too long. You know how Hunter hates to wait.” Then I left the room.

Okay, so it was slightly evil to hide her stuff, but considering all of the things I could have done, I figured she got off easy.