Good Girls Don't Read Online Free Page B

and all that.”
    “It’s terrible, isn’t it?” I smile.
    She grins. “Oh yes. But anyway, just thought I’d offer you the lift.”
    “Sure, thanks. I’ll come around at, what, half seven?”
    “Cool. And we will have a serious meaningful talk at some point during the night, because I don’t think we’ve sat down to have a proper conversation in weeks and I miss talking to you.”
    “Well, whose fault is that?” I tease.
    She sighs. “I know, I know. Did I mention I hate Sixth Year? And that I’m seriously considering dropping out and living on the street for the rest of my life?”
    “You won’t, though,” I tell her firmly.
    “I’m going crazy,” she replies.
    “It’s only a few more weeks. You’re going to be fine, and you’re going to work hard, and you’re going to get the points for law, and then you can relax for the whole summer.”
    She smiles at the thought. “Mmm. Relaxing. I like that idea.”
    “And tomorrow night, as well,” I remind her. “Your night off.”
    “Yes. I will relax. I have to. Thanks, Em. I’ll see you later, or tomorrow, whenever.”
    “Right. Talk to you then,” I say.
    ***
    September of Third Year. I was leaving the locker room and accidentally crashed into a girl in the year above me.
    “Oh, I’m sorry!” I said.
    “No, I’m sorry,” she said.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?”
    “Yeah.”
    I laughed. “Well, I think we’re finished that routine.”
    “Yeah. It’s like you learn all these things to say, and you’re not even listening to the person –”
    “You’re just reciting the next phrase,” I finished, and she smiled.
    ***
    That’s how Lucy and I became friends. I saw her the next day and we chatted for a while, and after a few weeks we were constantly yapping away to one another. I thought she knew everything and besides, she was pretty. I was completely infatuated with her, but I never thought of it as a crush. It was just an obsession, I told myself, hero-worship, something along those lines. It had happened plenty of times before, and I honestly had never considered that these little obsessions could be romantic. And I never doubted that any of my infatuations with guys were romantic, because they were supposed to be. I never questioned the similarities between the two, never really noticed it. If you don’t go looking for something, you won’t always find it, I guess.
    I looked forward to seeing her but at the same time it made me nervous, and I used to play out imaginary conversations with her in my head, directing a movie with a happy ending. I had this fantasy that she’d be crying and I’d hold her and soothe her. I’d be the one to make it all better.
    ***
    One day we were talking and I was watching her applying lip balm, and I imagined kissing her. The thought shocked me so much that I couldn’t focus on anything else for the rest of the day. I was walking around in a haze, not sure of anything anymore.
    ***
    I look back on that now and am amazed at how dramatic I was at fourteen.
     
     

Chapter Twelve
     
    I ring Barry on his mobile after school and ask if I can come over. He says okay.
    It takes me twenty minutes to walk from my house to his. I’m nervous about seeing him, something I haven’t experienced since the days of having a crush on him.
    We do the awkward-hug thing, and then I say, “You call that a hug?” and he laughs, and it’s like it never happened.
    “I’m sorry,” he says, “I really am. It’s just – you’re too good for Declan. He’s an asshole, at least most of the time, and he doesn’t deserve you . . . and your talent.”
    “What talent?” I laugh.
    “I hear things,” he grins.
    “From who, exactly?”
    “Well, Hugh, of course . . . and Michael . . . and Colin . . . and Natasha.”
    “Colin doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I grin.
    “But the rest of them?”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “How many people have you actually slept with, Emily?” he