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believe it or not, that’s a good thing, no matter how incredibly wrong those people might be.
    “You didn’t have to be so pissy at lunch. Brock and I were just having fun.”
    That was the Fuchsia Reynolds version of an apology, plus an acceptance of the fact that she needed me not to be “pissy.” Chalk another one up for pretending to be invincible.
    “I was just having fun too,” I said, testing her. “You’re so touchy today.”
    I could see her warring with herself, trying to decide whether or not it was worth picking a fight. It wasn’t. “PMS,” she replied with a shrug.
    I nodded and, after a moment’s deliberation, allowed myself another friendly grin. There was enough suckiness in the air already; I didn’t need a fight with Fuchsia making things worse. Besides, of the two of us, I was the one all the boys had been checking out. I was the one who’d left the cafeteria with Brock. Fuchsia was the one who’d had to apologize.
    For the moment at least, I was totally, utterly, completely in control, and for the first time, maybe because I knew how close I’d come to losing it, it scared the hell out of me.

 
    5

    Lying
    The easiest way to lie
is to convince people you’re a bad liar
and then prove them wrong.
    “Success.” I mumbled the word into my locker as I closed the door. I’d managed to make it through the day without(a) another visit from Mystery Boy, (b) Fuchsia publicly molesting my boyfriend, or (c) saying another word to Lissy “Holier Than Thou” James. I hadn’t exactly cured world hunger, but given my disastrous lunch period, I was willing to call my day a success.
    “Hey, babes,” Fuchsia called out. I turned around. I was only “babes” when she was ready to forget about guys long enough to be a real friend or when she was getting ready to start messing with me. It was a real toss-up.
    “We’re going to the mall. Wanna come with?”
    And apparently it was the second option. Fuchsia was all smiles and kindness, but she knew exactly what my answer was going to be before I gave it. I’d picked up on that particular trick in middle school when she’d taken to inviting me to her house when she knew I had a dentist appointment. That way she got bonus points in the friend tally for asking me, but didn’t have to settle for being the second-prettiest girl there.
    “Trace and I were going to go on Saturday,” I said. “Right, Tracy?”
    Tracy was, to put it nicely, a teeny tiny bit needy. There was no way she was going to turn down a mall invite, especially if it meant that she got to pretend that I’d asked her before I’d asked Fuchsia.
    “Right,” Tracy said.
    “Since when?” Fuchsia demanded. She knew my tricks almost as well as I knew hers.
    “We’ve been planning it for a while.” Tracy answered Fuchsia’s question, relishing the moment way more than she would have on a day when Fuchsia hadn’t hit on Tate. “You can come if you…you know…want to.”
    I couldn’t have said it better myself.
    “Oh.” Fuchsia practically sniffed the word, and I felt a small twinge of guilt. Fuchsia and I played mind games with each other. It was what we did. That didn’t mean I had to like it.
    “Maybe we could all go next week,” I offered. “If Saturday doesn’t work for you, Fuchsia.” It was as much of a peace branch as she was going to get after the day I’d had.
    Tracy stiffened. She didn’t forgive quite as easily as I did, and she didn’t like me offering to change our fictional plans to accommodate someone who’d spent all of chorus ogling her ex.
    “I gotta go,” I said, walking between the two of them on my way out. “Trace, figure out what works for you guys and then give me a call?”
    Tracy smiled, her muscles relaxing now that I’d at least pretended to put her in charge. “Sureness.”
    “Laters,” I called over my shoulder.
    There was a simple reason that I couldn’t jet off to the mall, and that reason should have been waiting for me