Chapter 3

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Chapter Three

pleased with each other from the first

I stopped by Brendan’s locker after lunch. It was on my way to fifth anyway, and I hadn’t talked to him all day.

I’d spent the whole last period taking deep breaths and trying not to worry about Aphrodite. I tried to remind myself that Brendan wasn’t like other guys—he didn’t care about looks more than anything else. And even if he did think she was gorgeous—because, of course he would—there’s no way he would spend as much time with her as he did me. We were best friends. We lived next door to each other. We were both Mathletes, for Christ’s sake. Or, I would be, next week. Brendan would only see her a few minutes a day, at his locker. No big deal.

No big deal.

I let out a huge sigh of relief when I saw him standing there, and when he turned to smile at me, that same old grin that told me he couldn’t be happier to see me. My heart eased a little bit, and all the stress melted away.

Despite not being a lacrosse player, Brendan was popular as hell. When I first got here, I thought it was because of his money. But as I hung out with him and his friends, I realized that it was his personality. That kid could get along with anyone. And he truly did, too. He was friends with the popular guys, and even though he didn’t really play sports, he could sling a ball with the best of them. But then, he was also friends with the less popular kids. Even the geeks.

Even me, who didn’t really fit in anywhere or get along well with anyone. Who, when I first arrived at Mansfield, spent her days mired in self-pity unless Brendan came to drag me out. Who was a total beast when I was first adjusting to my meds.  Brendan didn’t care one bit. He patiently fed my mood with pancakes, vintage movies, or random park outings with Hamlet the Great Dane, depending on the context.

Brendan really had a good heart. Even though he was completely clueless about how hopelessly in love with him I was, he had a good heart. That’s why everyone liked him.

Brendan told me about his horrible lab partner for Chem, and we laughed about the ridiculous sweaters the math professor we shared always wore. Then, New Girl Goddess rolled in. Of course, I knew before I saw her. Her perfume made sure of that.

“Oh, Ash! This is Sofia.” He never broke his gaze away from her. If he hadn’t said my name, I would have thought he didn’t even know I was there.

“Sofia,” I said. I’m sure I sounded suspicious. I couldn’t help it. Saying her name made me sound like a pretentious Italian snake. It felt wrong on my tongue. Actually, I wished I could rinse and spit.

“You’re…Ash?” the girl asked. Even though she was the same height as me, I swore she looked down at me.

“Ashley,” I said, giving my smallest acceptable smile. “I’m Brendan’s…neighbor.”

“Yeah,” Brendan said. “She’s my…one of myand Julia’s best friends. She moved in last year.”

“Wow.” Her smile was saccharine sweet. “That’s funny! You never mentioned her the whole time we were on the cruise...”

I sucked in a sharp breath, and tried to hide my hurt. It was one week. Just one. Maybe one week wasn’t a ton of time to tell someone everything about your life back home. Even about your best friend.

“And she wants to be on the team, too.”

“Oh!” Sofia seemed to perk up. “Yeah. Obviously we’re here at Mansfield Prep over any of the other Pitt schools so that we can get into the best colleges. B here told me that this is great for applications.”

Ew. “B?” Brendan hated all nicknames. I knew because whenever Julia wanted to annoy the hell out of him she’d call him “Bren” or even “Denny.” I had to admit, that one always made me giggle.

 I watched for the look of annoyance to cross his face, but he just stood there like nothing earth-shattering had happened.

This was worse than I thought.

She flashed that stupid 100-watt smile at him again.  “You’re doing trials for you Mathletes team next week, right?”

Brendan stared at her with a dreamy half-smile. Gross.

“Yeah,” I said. “Starting them. There are only a couple spots on the team, though.” Maybe this girl didn’t understand that Mathletes was just as important at this school as football and cheerleading were at others. Especially that it was just as important to Brendan. Getting into Harvard, Stanford, or, as a last resort, Carnegie Mellon for their amazing math programs was his number-one goal.

 If Mathletes had been this cool at Williamson, I might have been okay there. Only four Mansfield Mathletes could go to State, and if we won, only two could represent at Nationals. This girl had no idea what she was getting into. Except my stomach twisted when I wondered if maybe she did.

“Oh, I’m not worried. I’m really good. We almost made it to State last year.”

“Almost?” I said. Brendan had led Manfield’s team to State, and they’d come in third.

“Wasn’t my fault,” she said, flicking a tissue-thin piece of paper out of the brand-new planner she carried. “Just brought these to the office for my records. See for yourself.”

“That’s awesome,” Brendan said, finally finding some words. This was almost too painful. I glanced over his shoulder at the transcript. Straight As. Sofia had straight As, in honors classes. A better than 4.0 GPA.

“Yeah, awesome,” I said. It looked like I’d have to jolt Brendan back to reality. “Speaking of Mathletes, we’re still meeting after, right?”

“Um, yeah.” Brendan finally looked at me. “And we’re gonna need you.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave if I wanted to. You’re giving me a ride home, right?” He’d given me a ride home every school day for the last half a year. Granted, we’d had the summer, but still. Had he really forgotten?

“Brendan, you’re not going straight home after school, are you?” Sofia looked at him with huge eyes and a slight smile. I hated the way she said his name, like the n’s were too hum-my. “You’re coming with us to Custard’s First Stand?”

“Custard’s First Stand?” I asked, my voice going up a pitch. Most of the kids who hung out there were in middle school. Brendan nodded, looking at her like she’d asked if he wanted a million dollars.

I took a deep breath, fumbling in my bag for nothing and trying not to watch Brendan watching Sofia. “Okay, good,” I lied. “I’m craving some soft-serve anyway. So, I’ll meet you at the car, okay?”

“See ya, Ash,” Brendan said, not even bothering to look at me. I rolled my eyes and tried to explain the twisting in my gut as anger instead of the top of an inevitable downward spiral. 

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