What Happens to Goodbye

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Authors: Sarah Dessen
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forth.
    “Plus,” Deb continued, “some great giveaways from local merchants. There’s a coupon for a free drink at Frazier Bakery, and if you buy any muffin at Jump Java, you can get another for half off!”
    Sitting there, I realized that one of two things could happen from here. Either I would hate Deb, or we’d be best friends and Liz Sweet would end up just like her. “That’s really nice,” I said as she beamed at me, clearly proud. “I appreciate it.”
    “Oh, it’s no problem,” she said. “I’m just trying to make people feel a little more at home than I did.”
    “You had a tough time?”
    For a moment, and only a moment, her smile became slightly less perky. “I guess so,” she said. Then she brightened. “But things are great now, seriously. I really like it here.”
    “Well,” I said, “I’ve moved around a lot. So, hopefully it won’t be so bad.”
    “Oh, I’m sure it won’t be,” she said. “But if you have any problems, my card’s in there as well. Don’t hesitate to call or e-mail, okay? I mean that.”
    I nodded. “Thanks, Deb.”
    “Thank you!” She smiled at me, then put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, goodness, I’m so rude! I didn’t even get your name. Or did—”
    “Mclean!”
    I blinked, sure I hadn’t heard this right. But then it came again. Yes, someone was calling me. By my real name.
    I turned my head. There, at the picnic table, was the blonde girl, now standing, her hands cupped over her mouth. Yelling. At me.
    “Mclean!” she said, then waved. “Hey! We’re over here!”
    “Oh,” Deb said, glancing at her, then back at me. “Well. Looks like you’ve already made some friends.”
    I looked back at the table, where Riley was watching me as well, the bag of pretzels in one hand. “I guess so,” I said.
    “Well,” Deb said, “maybe you don’t need the packet at all. But I just thought . . .”
    “No,” I told her, suddenly feeling bad for some reason. “I’m glad to have it. Really.”
    She smiled at me. “Good. It’s nice to meet you, Mclean.”
    “You, too.”
    She stood, then turned on one pert sneaker and started down the walkway, reaching up to adjust her headband as she went. I glanced at the blonde. Come on , she mouthed, waving at me again. So this was my moment, I thought, picking me again, although not exactly the way I’d expected. Still, I got to my feet, tossing my burrito in a nearby trash can, and headed across the courtyard to see what would happen next. I was almost there when I looked back in the direction Deb had gone, finding her a moment later by the bus parking lot. She was sitting under a tree, her green purse beside her, sipping a soda. Alone.

    The blonde’s name was Heather. How she knew mine was not yet clear.
    “I had to save you,” she explained as I approached their table. “That girl Deb is a spazzer freak. I considered it an act of charity to call you over here.”
    I looked back at Deb, sitting under the tree. “She didn’t seem so bad.”
    “Are you kidding ? ” Heather said, incredulous. “She sat next to me in bio last year. Spent the entire semester trying to recruit me to her various groups, all of which she is the sole member of. It was like sharing a Bunsen burner with a cult member.”
    “What’s in the bag?” Riley asked, nodding at the welcome packet, which I was still holding.
    “A hospitality gift,” I said. “From the student ambassadors.”
    “Ambassa dor ,” Heather corrected me, adjusting her ample cleavage. “Hello? She’s the only one!”
    I wasn’t sure what I was doing here, now that I’d been saved from Deb. Before I found out, though, there was one more issue to clear up.
    “How did you know my name?” I asked Heather.
    She’ireen checking her phone, and now looked up at me, squinting in the sunlight. “You told me at that party, before it got busted.”
    “No,” I said. “I didn’t.”
    She and Riley exchanged a look. Now I was acting like a cult member.

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