“What happened to all those girlfriends you used to have at school?” He sets his coffee on the table. “Jane, Tammy—oh! Bon Bon?”
I snort. “Who the heck’s Bon Bon?”
“You know, the little magician girl!”
“Who,Lulu?” For the record, Lulu’s into tarot and palm readings, not amateur magic tricks. “Dad, that wasn’t even close!”
“Well, whatever.” He scoops some eggs onto his fork. “I think you can do so much better than Patrick as a boyfriend. I’m just saying.”
“Dad?! What the heck, I’m not dating Patrick.” I resist the urge to smack my forehead. How many times have I told him this? “Besides, I already know he’s not interested, okay?”
“How do you know that?”
I drop my gaze to my plate. “He said so himself.”
I remember his exact words.Um, how do I say this? Sorry, Sara. I don’t feel the same.
That happened a year ago, toward the end of junior year. The embarrassment could’ve eaten me alive, but Patrick didn’t let it. Instead, we pretended I’d never brought it up and, in hindsight, I’m grateful. The last thing I wanted was to lose his friendship, and he made sure there wasn’t any lingering weirdness between us. We carried on like normal—him with his teasing and me with volleying smart retorts in his face—and nothing between us changed.
Sure, Patrick can act like a troll sometimes, and maybe he jokes around too much for some people’s liking, but I appreciate his humor. It’s how we first became friends.
I know, maybe we seem like an unlikely pairing, but during our very first Eagle Gate assembly, Lulu—notBon Bon—and I sat together. We’d been close friends in middle school, so it was nice to have familiar company. I remember looking around and thinking half the girls looked like they were already in college, but Lulu reminded me that they were seniors, and we’d look like that, too, when we were older.
I thought about that, and I couldn’t picture it—this seemed light-years away—and as I was trying to imagine myself taller with glossier hair, a crumpled ball of paper hit me square in the forehead.
A few seats over, a brunet boy with a cropped haircut snickered. This was Patrick, of course.
“Read it,” he whisper-hissed as the guy next to him elbowed him and said, “Hey!”
Lulu rolled her eyes. “Don’t read it.”
But I’d snatched the paper from the floor and uncrumpled it because I was curious. In heavy black ink it saidDo you want to be my girlfriend?
My face flamed, my skin growing warmer by the second. I didn’t even know this guy and he was askingmeout? It didn’t make any sense. Maybe he thought I was cute? Nobody had ever thought I was cute before, so for someone to single me out made me feel kinda special.
“No, that’s not for you,” the guy next to him said. “Pass it down!”
Oh. Right. Why would I assume it was for me? So I did what he asked, which made Patrick the Instigator laugh harder. So glad he found my humiliation hilarious.
He made sure toreallylet the joke sink in when he found me after school that day. Lulu had ditched me for the artsy crowd. They were all gathered in a huddle near the exit, and I was too intimidated to introduce myself, so I started down the sidewalk without her, accepting I’d have to walk home alone.
“Hey, you!”
I turned to see Assembly Boy striding confidently onto the sidewalk behind me, a wicked grin on his face.
“Watch out for stalker boys asking you out on your way home!” he hollered, laughing.
For the second time that day, my face flushed. But I wasn’t about to let him have the last word, so I placed my hands on my hips and yelled, “You mean,you? You freak.”
This only made him laugh harder. What a weirdo. What was his deal, anyway? Did I have a sign on my back that saidMake me the butt of your joke, please! I’m begging!
“Hey,” I went on. “What’s your name, anyway?”
He cupped his ear. “What?”
He hadn’t bother to come closer, so I wrapped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “You have aname?Or should I call you Gigglebox?”
“Oh, it’s Patrick!” he offered, waving.
