Read Online Social Lives by Wendy Walker - Free Book Online Page A

gonna judge you? What—just because it wasn’t Billy in the hallway?” She leaned back and shook her head with disgust. “Hypocrites. I mean, come on!
As if.
”
    â€œYou’re right. Sorry. It’s just a little weird being back.”
    â€œIt’ll pass. Besides, you’re kinda famous now.”
    She was kidding, of course, but it still made Cait nearly gag on her soda. Popular had been good. Popular had felt like someone had stopped throwing dirt on her coffin and instead lifted it from the ground, pried it open, and let her out. She’d been washed in sunlight, finally noticed by the world. But today was more like a laser beam cutting her in two. If only she hadn’t been caught.
    Amanda’s face changed suddenly, and Cait turned to follow where her eyes had gone. Kyle Conrad was walking to their table.
    Cait felt her cheeks flush as she looked back to the table. It was a high, as good as any she could ever imagine. She could feel him standing behind her, and it took all her will not to turn around and acknowledge him.
    â€œHello, girls,” he said. At sixteen, he had a deep, commanding voice that carried just enough indifference to make any audience stop and take notice.
    Cait felt his hand resting on her shoulder, and she could tell from her friend’s expression that he was also looking down at her.
    â€œHello,” Amanda said, failing miserably to hide her jealousy.
    With his hand still upon her, Kyle sat down beside Cait. It was then that she allowed herself to look at him. Her mind—no, her entire being—was rapt with a bittersweet longing that left room for nothing else.
    â€œHi,” she managed to say along with a smile.
    Kyle smiled back, then looked down at the BlackBerry he held in his hands. “So, listen. I’m sorry about all the trouble. Has it totally sucked?”
    â€œNot too bad. I can deal,” Cait answered, though Kyle’s concern was somewhat undermined by the fact that he was now checking his messages. And that he had missed entirely the irony of the word he’d used to describe her situation.
    With his fingers clicking at the speed of light, he nodded and said “Good” before finishing his texting.
    Amanda and Cait waited in silence.
    Finally, he looked up again. “So, I’ll see you both this weekend?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Amanda answered.
    Cait nodded as well, though she had no idea what he was talking about, or how she would manage to be anywhere when she was still grounded.
    â€œGood.” He got up then to leave, and Cait prepared herself for the pain that was coming. Could this be the most dreadful misery known to mankind? She was nerve-racked when he was near her. Despairing when he was gone. All that saved her was the hope that one day, she might finally have him. It was sheer insanity, and she was powerless to cure it.
    â€œSee ya.” His parting words were delivered with a smile, then a slight brush of Cait’s hair the way he’d done in the hallway that night. It was a small gesture, but there was no doubt she would spend the rest of the day (week?) analyzing it, reliving it, and breathing into it more significance than it could ever deserve. Each morning, she would trace the path of his day—the classrooms and hallways and lunch breaks. She had memorized his schedule, knew when he would pass certain places within the school or on the grounds, and she would be sure to be there, watching, waiting. Hoping. The blissful misery of infatuation.
    â€œCait . . .” It was Amanda, again breaking her train of thought. “Why did you tell Kyle you’d be there this weekend?”
    Cait shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know what he was talking about.”
    Amanda let out an exasperated gasp. “He’s having a party at his house—while
your
parents are having their big party! Your house will be swarming with help. You