The Forever Crush Read Online Free Page B

times that it actually seemed true. More often than us regular girls, the prettiest girls got called trashy, cheap, and worse.
    â€œI’m sorry she’s being mean to you, Piper,” I said. “But that would mean she knows that you specifically are in the Pink Locker Society. Very few people know, right? High-school girls probably don’t know about us.”
    â€œI guess that’s right,” she said.
    â€œThen who is it?” Kate said. “Who else would be so angry about periods, bras, and boys?”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “And if this person hates us so much, why don’t they just stop coming to our site?”

Ten
    On Friday morning, when I told my mom about dinner and a movie, she teared up again. It wasn’t a full-scale sob, like in the car, but there were tears in her eyes. This time my dad was there.
    â€œOh babycakes, why don’t you go lie down a while?” he said, smiling.
    Do all parents use pet names for one another? There’s “honey” and “sweetheart,” which are fine, I guess. But my parents tended to these random, cutesy names. Mom called Dad “Dearheart,” “Honeybun,” and “Pookie.” Dad, for his part, called her “Mary Bell” and “Babe.” I had previously expressed my desire that my parents stick to calling one another by their actual names, Mary Beth and Jim, but they had ignored my requests. They also continued to call me “Cupcake” even though I told them this was not a nickname suitable for a thirteen-year-old. Of course, I hadn’t minded being called “Buzzy.” But that was only because Forrest gave me the nickname after the whole beehive incident.
    â€œWhy is she acting so weird?” I asked Dad in a whisper after Mom left the room.
    â€œOh, she’s just … just a little worn out,” he said.
    I didn’t like the idea of my mother being worn out. I liked Mom to be, well, Mom—certainly not one to cry about me going out to the movies.
    â€œAm I allowed to go?” I asked Dad.
    â€œGo where?” he asked.
    Dad was not usually my point of contact for getting permission to go here or there. It was awkward as I explained the group date aspect.
    â€œYou’re dating now? Oh, I don’t know, Jem.”
    â€œIt’s not a date-date. It’s a bunch of people. I’m not five anymore, Dad,” I said, a little louder than I intended.
    â€œNo, I suppose not,” he said. “But let’s check with your mom.”
    When I went to Mom and Dad’s room, she wasn’t there. I could see her bathroom door was closed, so I broke a rule and started talking to her through the door. She hated this. I gave her the essential details and waited for her reply. What I heard sounded a lot like Mom throwing up. Had she eaten too much turkey and pie the day before?

Eleven
    Sometimes the most awkward thing in eighth-grade life is not being able to drive. We all felt grown-up and we were going to a grown-up event: dinner and a movie. But we would be arriving at Clem’s house in the backseats of our parents’ cars. They would stop in the driveway, or (please no) get out of the car and say hello to Clem’s parents.
    It was decided that Mrs. McCann would take me and Forrest and also pick up Kate and Brett. Piper, lucky duck, was getting a ride from Dylan’s older brother who had his driver’s license. Clem was already there since it was her house. I didn’t know about the other girls—Clem’s friends—who I hardly knew.
    Clem’s house, conveniently, was in a neighborhood close enough that we could walk to the movie theater. My parents—I could hardly stand the thought—would be picking up the four of us after the movie.
    I felt so nervous that I wished I could run to Clem’s house instead of getting driven there by Forrest’s mom. I got ready way too early and then I changed