“We could double somewhere.”

“That would be too . . . ,” painful and mortifying, “awkward.”

“Come to a few parties with me. I don’t want to see you stuck with every Bob that comes along.”

“I promised my parents I wouldn’t go to those kinds of parties. Do you know how many lectures they’ve given me on date rape drugs? I already have a phobia of drinking anything someone else gives me. And did you know sauces and dips can be spiked too?”

“One party. You can bring your own guacamole.”

“I can’t.”

“Okay. No parties. Just a social gathering. Come with me to one social gathering where a few friends and acquaintances will visit with one another. I could set you up in a second.”

“You don’t have to find another guy for me. Really. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” she said, but she didn’t sound like she believed me.

I was fine though. And if Josh was right about Chad being back on the scamming scene in three months, well, I wouldn’t have to feel bad dating my friend’s ex.

Chapter 11

I worried that Monday would be tense and uncomfortable, but Elise and Josh were both joking around in the car like normal.

As soon as I got in, Elise fluttered her hand in Josh’s direction. “It’s only fair you tell Cassidy about your date on Saturday. You got a big enough laugh over the Bob affair.”

Josh grimaced. “I’m no longer dating Courtney.”

“He broke her leg,” Elise said.

“It was her ankle, and it was just sprained.”

Elise turned in her seat to see me better. “It all started when Mom and Dad forgot they were supposed to take Olivia to a birthday party and they went shopping in Lewiston. Olivia was in tears because she thought she was going to miss it. I, of course, volunteered to drive her to the skating rink, but Josh insisted he do it even though he had a date lined up with Courtney.”

Josh’s gaze shifted to Elise. “You don’t have your license yet.”

“A technicality. I’m a wonderful driver.”

“You’re going to get the story wrong,” Josh said. “Let me tell it.” He addressed me through the rearview mirror. “I picked up Courtney—”

“With Olivia in the car,” Elise added.

“And explained to Courtney I was dropping off Olivia at a party. When we got to the birthday person’s house, they’d already left for the rink. So we drove all the way over to Moscow, where we thought they’d be, but they weren’t there either. By this time Olivia was crying, and I couldn’t take her home, and I couldn’t leave her there, so I suggested to Courtney we postpone dinner and go skating.”

“With his kid sister,” Elise emphasized.

“It wasn’t as though Olivia was right there, skating between us . . . at least not most of the time.”

“And Courtney was dressed for roller-skating.” Elise put in.

“What else could I do?” Josh protested. “Olivia was brokenhearted. Besides, the whole fiasco was partially Courtney’s fault. She should have told me she didn’t know how to skate. I thought it was something all girls know how to do.”

I gestured outside to the road we were driving up. “Josh, Pullman is built on hills. You can only roller skate two ways here—at thirty miles an hour going straight down, or holding your skates and walking back up.”

“Well, anyway, there was this little collision . . .”

“Which involved how many people?” Elise prompted.

“Six,” Josh said. “And Courtney ripped her pants, twisted her ankle, and cursed my name all the way home.”

“Didn’t you forget one part of the story?” Elise asked.

“And Olivia was so upset by the whole thing that she threw up.”

“On?” Elise prodded cheerfully.

“On Courtney.”

I didn’t try to stifle my laugh. “Excuse me while I cough for a while.”

Elise nodded. “It makes a soy sauce spill seem pretty tame, doesn’t it?”

Josh let out a sigh. “I’ve gained new compassion for Bob. In fact, I feel a kinship with him now.”

Elise sat back in her seat. “Perhaps you two could have your own reality show: Dates that Maim.”

Josh ignored his sister. “The whole problem,” he said, “was that Courtney comes from a small family. She hasn’t dealt with younger brothers and sisters. The next girl I date has to be from a big family. Four kids at least.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier,” I said, “to find someone who knows how to skate?”

Josh ignored me, too. “Who do we know that has a big family? How many brothers and sisters does Annie Hillard have?”

Annie was one of the popular girls in the junior class. “Two,” I said, “but they’re older.”

“No good. How about that girl who always texts me—Ginnie Anderson?”

Ginnie Anderson was student body president. She texted him? “She has a brother who’s a sophomore.”

“That won’t work.”

I shifted in my seat to see him better. “Why don’t you just date who you like?”

He never took his eyes off the road. “I could like a lot of different people. I have to be logical about it to find someone compatible.”

“What about that magic moment?” I asked. “What about chemistry?”

“Yeah, right. What I need is someone who understands why Cheerios are ground into the seats of my car.”

“People from small families can be understanding too,” I insisted. “If someone likes you, she’ll overlook Cheerio crumbs.”

“But she might be emotionally scarred after meeting my family. A girl with a lot of brothers and sisters would understand why we can’t have any privacy at my house and why I can’t afford to take her anywhere else most of the time.”

I put my hand to my ear. “What did you say? I can’t understand you. I’m sibling impaired.”

“Logic, pure and simple,” Josh emphasized.

I turned to Elise. “Are all men like this?”

“Thankfully, no. Some are romantic.”

“None of us are romantic,” Josh said. “Some of us pretend to be for your benefit. It’s all logic.”

* * *

School went on like it had before, with the exception that Elise stopped eating at my table. She ate with Chad. The first lunch period she did this, Caitlin and Faith hated her on my behalf until I assured them repeatedly that it was all right.

A week later a junior named Tim asked me out. He played JV football and seemed nice. It wasn’t until I was actually on the date with him that I realized we had absolutely nothing in common. All he talked about was sports. I thought if I had to hear one more touchdown story, I’d slap him.

I tried to change the subject a couple of times. On the way home in the car, I asked if he were a Republican or a Democrat. He didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure what his parents were. They’d had a bumper sticker for somebody during the last election, but he couldn’t recall the name.

“Did it have an elephant or a donkey on the sticker?” I asked.

He looked at me blankly, “No.”

“Those are the signs for the parties,” I said.

He craned his head back and forth to look out both windows. “What parties? I didn’t see any signs.”

“No. I meant the elephant and the donkey are symbols for the political parties.”

“Oh yeah, we learned about that in American history. Has something to do with the stock market, right?

“No, you’re thinking of the bull and the bear.”

He smiled at me patronizingly. “Now you’re confused. The Bulls and the Bears are sports teams. Hey, did you catch the last Bears game? The defense made an awesome tackle. It was second down four yards to go . . .”

I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but at that moment I missed Bob.

When I got home, Mom asked me how my date went.

“This is why women become nuns,” I said.

“The next guy to come along will be better,” Mom assured.

The next guy to ask me out was a sophomore named Doug. Sadly, he wasn’t better—just different. He kept texting during dinner and the movie. I had the suspicion he was posting date updates. He tried to kiss me on my doorstep, but I let myself inside before he could succeed. I’d never been kissed before—not a real kiss—and I didn’t want my first time to be with a guy who’d announce the event to the world fifteen seconds after it happened.