Perfect (Book Two)

Fourteen: Emily's Perfectly Fine With Taking Ali's Sloppy Seconds.

"Say butterfly!" crowed Scott Chin, Rosewood Day's yearbook photographer. It was Thursday afternoon, and the swim team was in the natatorium for team photos before the Tate meet started. Emily had been on swim teams for so long, she didn't even think about having her picture taken in a bathing suit.

She posed with her hands on the starting block and tried to smile. "Gorgeous!" Scott cried,pursing his pink lips. A lot of kids at school speculated about whether Scott was gay. Scott never outwardly admitted it, but he didn't do anything to dispel the rumors, either.

As Emily maneuvered across the deck to her duffel bag, she noticed Tate Prep's team strolling to their bleachers. Toby was in the middle of the pack, wearing a blue Champion sweatshirt and rolling his shoulders back and forth to warm up.

Emily held her breath. She'd been thinking about Toby ever since he rescued her yesterday. She couldn't imagine Ben ever having picked her up like that—he'd have worried that lifting her might pull his shoulder muscles and compromise his race today. And thinking about Toby had triggered something else, too: a memory of Ali that Emily had nearly forgotten.

It was one of the last times Emily was ever alone with Ali. She'd never forget that day—clear blue sky, all the flowers had bloomed, there were bees everywhere. Ali's tree house smelled like Kool-Aid, sap, and cigarette smoke—Ali had pilfered a Parliament from her older brother's pack. She grabbed Emily's hands. She grabbed Emily's hands. "You can't tell the others this," she said. "I've started secretly seeing this older guy, and it's a-maz-ing."

Emily's smile drooped. Every time Ali told her about a guy she liked, a little piece of her heart cracked off.

"He's so hot," Ali went on. "I almost want to go sort of far with him."

"What do you mean?" Emily had never heard anything so horrifying in her life. "Who is he?"

"I can't tell." Ali smiled slyly. "You guys would freak."

And then, because Emily couldn't stand it any longer, she leaned forward and kissed Ali. There was a singular, wonderful moment; then Ali pulled away and laughed. Emily tried to pass it off like she was just playing...and then they went to their separate houses to have dinner.

She'd thought about the kiss so many times, she'd hardly remembered what had come before it. But now that Toby was back and he was so cute...it got Emily thinking that maybe Ali's guy had been Toby? Who else would've made them freak?

Ali liking Toby sort of made sense. At the end of seventh grade, she'd been on a bad-boy kick, talking about how she wanted to go out with someone who was "like, bad." Being sent to reform school qualified as ad, and maybe Ali saw something in Toby that no one else did. Emily thought maybe she could see that same something, now. And, slightly bizarre as it was, the possibility that Ali had like Toby made Toby seem that much more attractive to Emily. What was good enough for Ali was certainly good enough for her.

As soon as the swim meet broke for the diving competition, Emily pulled her flip-flops out of her Rosewood Day swimming tote, preparing to walk over to Toby. Her fingers bumped against her cell phone, tucked under her towel. It was blinking; she'd missed seven calls from Maya.

Emily's throat tightened. Maya had called, IM'ed, texted, and e-mailed her all week, and Emily hadn't responded. With every new missed phone call, she felt more confused. Part of her wanted to find Maya in school and run her hand through her soft, curly hair. To climb on the back of her bike and ditch school. Kissing Maya had felt dangerously good. But part of her wished Maya would just...disappear.

Emily stared at her cell phone window, a lump in her throat. Then, slowly, she snapped it shut. It kind of felt like the time when she was eight and decided to throw away Bee-Bee, her security blanket. Big girls don't need blankies, she'd told herself, but it had been awful to close the trash can's lid with Bee-Bee inside.