Love? Maybe. Read Online Free PDF Page A

bag. She takes it and blows her nose. I pull my locker open. I roll my eyes when I see the bottle of purple nail polish sitting in front of my books.
     
    “Is it supposed to rain today?” a voice behind me asks. I turn and see Jillian walking toward us and staring pointedly at my galoshes.
     
    “From you?” I ask, holding up the bottle of nail polish. Jillian shrugs. She’s always leaving her little “self-improvement” tools in my locker. Jillian looks over at Claire and raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess,” she says. “You heard from Stuart.” Claire nods, then blows her nose into the paper napkin I gave her. I scrounge in my locker for the pair of flats I was sure I left there last week. I finally give up, resigning myself to a day of sweaty feet. Double awesome.
     
    “I need some sugar and caffeine,” I say, thinking maybe a couple of cookies and an Americano might clear the fog covering my brain. I push my locker closed. We start headingtoward the cafeteria, weaving in between the clusters of people standing around the halls. The administration has threatened a bazillion times to get rid of morning break, saying it cuts into learning time, but I’m pretty sure they’d have a minor rebellion on their hands if they actually did. And not just from the students. Right after homeroom all the teachers make a dash for the teachers’ lounge. I had to go in there once to pick up a book for my lit class. All the teachers were standing around pounding coffee and stuffing themselves full of donuts. They were like wild animals at the kill. I got out of there as quickly as I could, careful not to turn my back to them. Who knew if they would mistake me as being jelly-filled?
     
    The caff is packed. We get in line behind a cluster of senior girls who look at us like we’re offensive, which in my case might actually be true considering how my boots are making my feet sweat like crazy. And with Claire sniffling like she’s got the plague, it’s no wonder they push forward to give us a little more room. When we get up to the counter, I grab a cinnamon roll. One look at Claire and I take a second one. If anyone is in need of some raw sugar, it’s her. Jillian picks up a carton of yogurt and we slide down the line toward the coffee. By all accounts, our school is pretty plush. Not too many high schools have a cappuccino machine and a sushi bar.
     
    We pay and make our way over to one of the tables. I slide into a chair near the window and immediately tuck into thecinnamon roll. Jillian is watching me. She seems slightly horrified by me. I often catch her looking at me like I’m something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. I guess because she’s very image conscious. Somehow she manages to make even the basic uniform stylish. I’m not that into fashion and hair and I never wear makeup.
     
    “Look, Claire,” Jillian finally says, tearing her eyes away from the train wreck that is apparently me. “Prince Charming Stuart was not.” She’s about as compassionate as a bulldozer. “You’re just going to have to get back on the horse.” I point out she only just fell off the horse yesterday. Jillian nods. “But it’s not like we didn’t see this coming,” she says. Claire stares at me. I have to nod. Darn truth.
     
    “He said he needs to focus on himself for a while,” Claire says. I don’t know what to say to that. As far as I know Stuart’s always been pretty good at taking care of Stuart.
     
    “Stuart is a moron,” Jillian says. Claire gives her a smile, making me feel vaguely like a failure. Here I sit, Claire’s best friend since elementary school, and I have nothing. Jillian says four words and she gets a smile. Jillian moved here from New York last fall semester and we sort of adopted her. I’m starting to think maybe it’s the other way around.
     
    Jillian leans forward. “You will not believe what I saw today.”
     
    “What?” I ask. I push the last of my cinnamon roll into my mouth and