hair.
"I've told you before," I said. "They’re idiots, Cara."
"They aren’t idiots. They rule the school. How can the people who rule the school be idiots?" She looked woefully at her reflection in the glass above the sinks. "It’s me. It’s just me. I’m such a loser."
"You’re not a loser, Cara," I said. "And they don’t rule the school. The student council does, technically."
"But they’re still
popular,"
Cara pointed out.
"There are more important things than being popular, Cara."
"That’s easy for you to say, Jen," Cara said. "I mean, everybody likes you. EVERYBODY. You've never had people mooing at you."
This is true. But I also never went out of my way to try to
get
people to like me the way Cara does.
When I mentioned this, though, Cara just went, "You sound just like Ask Annie.
Be yourself
. That’s what she’s always saying."
"It’s good advice," I said.
"Sure," Cara said sadly. "If you know who yourself even is."
The bell rang, long and loud. A second later, the ladies’ room was filled with girls eager to check their hair before heading off to class. My tête-à-tête with Cara was at an end. For now.
"I’ll see you later," I said to her. She just sniffled in reply and dug around in her purse for some tissue. I wasn’t surprised. Cara never thanked me for coming to check on her after one of her spaz attacks. It was one of the reasons, I was pretty sure, why she has no real friends. She just doesn’t know how to treat people.
I have to admit that, what with the whole Cara thing, I’d kind of forgotten about Luke Striker . . . at least until I came out of the ladies’ room and there he was, waiting for me.
The sick feeling came right back to my stomach. What was he still doing there? I’d really thought that, after my outburst, he’d have stalked off and called his limo to come pick him up. Instead, he came up to me and, hands in his pockets, asked, "So what do we have next?"
Just like that. Like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t told him to go back to Hollywood or anything.
What did this mean? That he wasn’t going running to Dr. Lewis, to tell him what I’d said? Was he just going to pretend my meltdown hadn’t happened? What kind of person
does
that? I am very good at figuring people out. Except, apparently, Luke Striker.
The knot in my stomach loosened a little after this, but I still didn’t feel completely at ease. I didn’t know what had caused Luke to change his mind about me and Clayton High—or even
if
he’d changed his mind—but I did know one thing:
I doubted either of us was going to be able to live up to his expectations.
Ask Annie
Ask Annie your most complex interpersonal relationship questions.
Go on, we dare you!
All letters to Annie are subject to publication in the Clayton High School
Register
.
Names and e-mail addresses of correspondents guaranteed confidential.
Dear Annie,
My girlfriend won’t stop giving me hickeys. It’s embarrassing. I’m glad she love me but . . . ew. Why won’t she stop and what can I do to make her
?
Tired of Wearing Turtlenecks
.
Dear Turtleneck,
Your girlfriend is giving you hickeys because she wants everyone to know you’re taken. Tell her to knock it of or you’ll find a girl who isn’t as insecure
.
Annie
S IX
I should have
known everybody in school was going to fall in love with Luke. I mean, even in his Lucas Smith guise, he’s still totally cute. And, face it, any guy who isn’t completely obsessed with monster trucks or doesn’t wear a mullet can be considered hot at Clayton High.
Luke was neither of those things, AND over six feet tall, AND sensitive enough to think the way everyone treated Cara was lame, AND he looked just like . . . well, Luke Striker.
Hey, it was a wonder
I
hadn’t fallen in love with him. I guess I shouldn’t have blamed Trina for it. Falling for the new guy, I mean.
It’s not like I didn’t suspect it might happen. Trina loves Luke Striker more than she loves
"I've told you before," I said. "They’re idiots, Cara."
"They aren’t idiots. They rule the school. How can the people who rule the school be idiots?" She looked woefully at her reflection in the glass above the sinks. "It’s me. It’s just me. I’m such a loser."
"You’re not a loser, Cara," I said. "And they don’t rule the school. The student council does, technically."
"But they’re still
popular,"
Cara pointed out.
"There are more important things than being popular, Cara."
"That’s easy for you to say, Jen," Cara said. "I mean, everybody likes you. EVERYBODY. You've never had people mooing at you."
This is true. But I also never went out of my way to try to
get
people to like me the way Cara does.
When I mentioned this, though, Cara just went, "You sound just like Ask Annie.
Be yourself
. That’s what she’s always saying."
"It’s good advice," I said.
"Sure," Cara said sadly. "If you know who yourself even is."
The bell rang, long and loud. A second later, the ladies’ room was filled with girls eager to check their hair before heading off to class. My tête-à-tête with Cara was at an end. For now.
"I’ll see you later," I said to her. She just sniffled in reply and dug around in her purse for some tissue. I wasn’t surprised. Cara never thanked me for coming to check on her after one of her spaz attacks. It was one of the reasons, I was pretty sure, why she has no real friends. She just doesn’t know how to treat people.
I have to admit that, what with the whole Cara thing, I’d kind of forgotten about Luke Striker . . . at least until I came out of the ladies’ room and there he was, waiting for me.
The sick feeling came right back to my stomach. What was he still doing there? I’d really thought that, after my outburst, he’d have stalked off and called his limo to come pick him up. Instead, he came up to me and, hands in his pockets, asked, "So what do we have next?"
Just like that. Like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t told him to go back to Hollywood or anything.
What did this mean? That he wasn’t going running to Dr. Lewis, to tell him what I’d said? Was he just going to pretend my meltdown hadn’t happened? What kind of person
does
that? I am very good at figuring people out. Except, apparently, Luke Striker.
The knot in my stomach loosened a little after this, but I still didn’t feel completely at ease. I didn’t know what had caused Luke to change his mind about me and Clayton High—or even
if
he’d changed his mind—but I did know one thing:
I doubted either of us was going to be able to live up to his expectations.
Ask Annie
Ask Annie your most complex interpersonal relationship questions.
Go on, we dare you!
All letters to Annie are subject to publication in the Clayton High School
Register
.
Names and e-mail addresses of correspondents guaranteed confidential.
Dear Annie,
My girlfriend won’t stop giving me hickeys. It’s embarrassing. I’m glad she love me but . . . ew. Why won’t she stop and what can I do to make her
?
Tired of Wearing Turtlenecks
.
Dear Turtleneck,
Your girlfriend is giving you hickeys because she wants everyone to know you’re taken. Tell her to knock it of or you’ll find a girl who isn’t as insecure
.
Annie
S IX
I should have
known everybody in school was going to fall in love with Luke. I mean, even in his Lucas Smith guise, he’s still totally cute. And, face it, any guy who isn’t completely obsessed with monster trucks or doesn’t wear a mullet can be considered hot at Clayton High.
Luke was neither of those things, AND over six feet tall, AND sensitive enough to think the way everyone treated Cara was lame, AND he looked just like . . . well, Luke Striker.
Hey, it was a wonder
I
hadn’t fallen in love with him. I guess I shouldn’t have blamed Trina for it. Falling for the new guy, I mean.
It’s not like I didn’t suspect it might happen. Trina loves Luke Striker more than she loves
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