Confessions of an Almost-Girlfriend Read Online Free PDF Page B

handing it to him.
Conrad wraps the blanket around himself and with one more
nasty look at me, slides into the backseat. Tracy slams the trunk
shut and gets into the driver’s seat. I barely have my seat belt on
over my wet towel when Conrad starts in.
“So was it guilt that made you pull me off the bottom of the
pool?”
Tracy eyes Conrad in her rearview mirror. “If anyone should
feel guilty, it’s your sister. She was the psychotic maniac last year.”
“That’s not what I heard,” he mutters.
“Two sides to every story,” I reply.
“All right, let’s hear your side. How did someone like you manage to steal my sister’s boyfriend?”
Conrad’s question rings in my ears as I turn off the airconditioning that came on full blast when Tracy pushed the
car’s power button. My teeth are chattering because my skin is
still wet. I hope my mother isn’t waiting up for me when I get
home. If I have to explain to her how I ended up fully clothed
in a pool at the party, she’ll probably call Caron to schedule an
emergency midnight session. That’s Kathleen for ya.
I’ve been calling my mom by her first name—Kathleen—
in my head. It makes me feel better for some reason. Less “depressed,” you might say.
“Hello?” Conrad says, still waiting for an answer.
If I were a different person, I would see this as an opportunity, as Caron likes to call complicated situations. An opportunity to
tell my side of the story, or something like that.
But really, it just sucks to hear Conrad ask a variation on the
very question I spent most of the summer asking myself: What
would a hot guy like Jamie Forta ever see in someone like me?
“I think the real question is how did you end up in a pool with
the swim team trying to drown you?” Tracy asks.
“Oh, please. I saw the YouTube video of your initiation last
year, pretending to be Beyoncé in your bra in the freezing cold
after homecoming. You don’t need me to explain a damn thing
to you.”
Tracy didn’t see that coming. Conrad is giving her a real run
for her money, and she’s not used to it.
“Dancing in a parking lot and practically being killed by your
teammates are kind of different, don’t you think?” I ask.
“Being straight in Union and being me in Union are kind of
different, don’t you think?” he mocks in a high, girly voice that
sounds nothing like me. Then he sighs, more annoyed than defeated. “Your ex went the extra mile with me because the thought
of me looking at him naked in the locker room scares the panties off him. God, what a fucking cliché.”
Tracy doesn’t respond. Neither do I. Ms. Maso would not be
pleased with our inability to be supportive of someone who just
came out to us. Even if he did do it in a way that was carefully
crafted to make us feel as stupid as possible.
Conrad misinterprets our silence. “I’m gay, ” he says with exasperation.
“We know,” Tracy responds with ice in her voice.
“You mean someone in Union actually has gaydar? Shocking,”
Conrad grumbles. “Although if anyone would have it, it would
be the girl with back issues of GQ and Vogue in the trunk of her
Prius. Everything about Union is so typical.” Conrad slouches
down, jabbing his knees into the back of my seat. “So, Rose—
that’s your name, right?—are you and Jamie together or is he
just doing his usual dark-and-brooding, now-you-see-me-nowyou-don’t thing where he shows up at your door every once in
a while and does something sexy just to make sure you’re still
dangling on the line, waiting for him?”
Tracy and I are both stunned into silence, for different reasons.
I’m sure she’s not surprised by my inability to keep up with Conrad, but it’s pretty rare for Tracy to be without a good comeback.
I’m also marveling at Conrad’s ability to go right for the sweet
spot and stick a knife in it. It’s a gift. Must run in the family.
Suddenly, I’m angry. Sure, it’s true that Conrad was just