I haven’t seen him in years, and also he goes to college now, so

why should he remember anything about me?

It’s funny, because even though my crush on him was

so long ago, sitting across from him now at Kat’s kitchen

table, it feels like yesterday that I loved Patrick and that

Rennie and Kat and I were best friends. RKL till we die. He’s telling me about some philosophy class he’s taking at

the community college, and I’m nodding hard like I’m paying

attention, but all I can think about is how his eyes are green like

evergreen, same as before—when Kat comes home. She looks

surprised to see me, even though we said we were hanging out

this afternoon.

Leaning against the doorway, she says, “What are you guys

doing?”

“Eating cereal. What does it look like?” Patrick says, and I

giggle.

Kat shoots me a strange look. “Bring it up to my room, Lil.”

Then she heads down the hallway.

I stand up. “Do you mind?” I ask him. “If I take it with me?” “Be my guest,” he says.

Cradling the bowl against my chest, I say, “Thanks for the

cereal, Patrick.”

“Anytime, Lil.” He winks at me, and I press my lips together

so I don’t smile. Then I trail after Kat, to her room.

“What the hell was that?” Kat asks me. She’s lounging on her

bed with her shoes on. Ew.

“What?” I say, sinking onto the floor. I know we were supposed to be keeping everything on the DL, but it’s not like it’s

my fault Pat is home.

“You know what,” she says, smirking at me. She shakes her head. “That lowlife is skipping class again. Such a loser. I have no idea why you were always so gaga over my gross brother. He goes to JICC; isn’t that beneath you? ’Cause it’s sure as shit

beneath me.”

Stiffly I say, “I was never gaga over Patrick. Also there’s nothing wrong with community college. He says he’s probably going

to transfer soon anyway.” So I guess Kat’s known all along. I

never told her I had a crush on Patrick; I only told Rennie, who

swore up and down she’d never tell. Yet another betrayal. Kat snorts. “Oh, sweet naive Lil. He ain’t going anywhere.

He has, like, two credits. He’ll be stuck on Jar Island for the rest

of his damn life.”

“How did the SAT go?”

“Hell if I know.”

I concentrate on eating my cereal fast, because it’s getting

soggy. “When’s Mary coming?” I ask, wiping milk off my chin. “I think she said she had to do something with her aunt first,

and then she’d either get a ride from her or bike over.” “Cool,” I say. I drink my sweet cereal milk, and then I put

the bowl down on the carpet. I take off my flats and crawl onto

the bed next to Kat. She scoots over for me. Staring up at the

ceiling I say, “So, um, did Patrick ever say anything about me?” Kat busts out laughing and hits me over the head with her

banana pillow. I laugh too, and then I burst out, “I can’t believe Rennie told you I liked Patrick when she explicitly promised

she never would. She swore on her mom’s life!”

Giggling, Kat says, “Even if she didn’t tell me, it was so

obvious. You used to think up excuses for why we should have

sleepovers over here instead of at Rennie’s!”

“Well, that was partly because of Shep.” My mom is supposedly allergic to dogs, so we’ve never been allowed to have one,

no matter how much we beg. I think it’s because she doesn’t

want a dog on our white furniture. Sitting up, I call out, “Shep!

C’mere, Shep!”

Shep comes bounding into the room, and he jumps on the

bed and kisses my face. I hug him to me. “Hello, sweet boy,” I

say in his ear.

“Remember those skanks Pat used to bring home?” Kat asks

me suddenly. “They were always way older and they’d smoke

inside the house. Remember that one time?”

Of course I remember. I was thirteen during the height of my Patrick crush, so I guess he was fifteen or sixteen at the time, and the girls he hung out with seemed like women to me. They had boobs and they cussed and they rode around on the back of his motorcycle.

There was this one girl, Beth. It was the middle of the day, and Rennie and Kat and I were in the TV room blasting music, practicing a routine from one of those dance movies where people have dance-offs in the rain in a parking lot.

“Lil, you have to roll your h*ps back like this,” Rennie instructed me, demonstrating.

She and Kat started doing it together in perfect unison. “Loosen up, Lil,” Kat said. “You’re too stiff.”

Haltingly, I tried to follow their lead and get the motion. That’s when Patrick and Beth came in. They burst out laughing, and I stopped immediately, but Rennie and Kat ignored them and kept on going, even when they sat down on the couch and watched.

Beth had auburn hair; it was long enough to put in a ponytail, but barely. She had on a ton of eyeliner and no lipstick, and a big black T-shirt with slashed arms that she wore as a dress. She looked like she was twenty-two even though she was probably only eighteen. “Look at those little hoochies in the making,” she cracked, lighting up a cigarette. Her voice was low and husky.

Patrick snorted, and I lowered my eyes. Through my lashes I sneaked a peek at her. She had her legs stretched out on the coffee table even though she still had shoes on. “Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered, but Kat ignored me.

“Us?” Kat said. “Look at you. Where are your pants? In the back of somebody’s truck?”

Beth guffawed with hoarse laughter and took a drag of her cigarette. She looked sexy when she did it, like she was in a movie.

“Excuse me, but you’re not allowed to smoke in the house,” Rennie said, her hands on her hips.

Patrick tapped a cigarette out of Beth’s box. “Go play outside, little girls. We want to watch TV.” They smirked at each other.

“We were here first,” Rennie said.

Patrick gave her a threatening look, and Kat said, “Fine, fine. We’re going.” To us she said, “Come on, let’s go.” At the last second she snatched Beth’s pack of cigarettes and made a run for it with us close behind her. We ran out the screen door and I could hear Patrick’s roar.

I never felt more my age than that moment. I wanted to be eighteen and not thirteen. I wanted Patrick to look at me like he was looking at her.

And more than anything, what I wanted was to ride on the back of Patrick’s motorcycle. Once, to see what it felt like to go that fast, with only him to anchor me to the world. My parents would have sent me to a convent if I’d ever even said that out loud. They’d made me promise I would never ride on Pat’s motorcycle; that was the condition of me being allowed to hang out at Kat’s house.

I’ve never broken a promise to my parents before, but if Patrick asked me to go for a ride on his bike right now, I’d do it. I wouldn’t even hesitate. To feel that wild and free. I want to know what that feels like.

We’re eating candy-apple popcorn and listening to music—Kat’s favorite band, but it’s making my head hurt, it’s so loud—so we don’t hear Mary when gets here. She bounds into the room, her cheeks all rosy and pink, already so much better than she looked on Thursday. “Mary!” I sing out.

“Hi, hi!” she says, coming over by the bed. She’s about to sit down with us when Shep bares his teeth and growls at her.

Kat grabs him by the collar and gives him a shake. To Shep she says, “Cut that shit out.” To Mary she says, “He’s harmless, I swear.”

Mary gives a nervous laugh and sits on the floor. “Dogs usually love me.”

“I can kick him out,” Kat offers, getting up.

“No,” I protest. “Let me cuddle with him. Mary, he won’t come near you.”

“Fine by me,” she says, giggling. “Nice doggie.”

Shep darts under the bed, and I crawl over and try to lure him out with a handful of popcorn, and he looks tempted but doesn’t come out. I offer Mary the can. “It’s so good,” I say, dangling it in front of her.

Mary makes a face. “You only like super-sweet things, Lillia.”

“That’s cause I’m so sweet,” I say in a singsong voice. She smiles back at me, and I climb into Kat’s hammock.

Kat snorts and goes to her closet. She throws me a shopping bag of clothes. “Here. Ammo.”

Before I even open it, I say, “Just so you know, I’m not wearing fishnets.”

“There aren’t any fishnets in there, you beotch.” She plops down on her bed and watches me as I start going through the bag.

A pink strapless corseted top. A lacy black corseted top. Cream thigh-high socks made out of soft yarn. A bandage skirt so short it might even be a tube top; I can’t tell. The socks are kind of cute, but this other stuff looks like Frederick’s of Hollywood. Totally not my style.

“Kat, did you steal all this?” I ask. I’m mostly kidding.

Kat rolls her eyes. “You know I don’t steal, beotch. That’s your girl Rennie. Oh, and BTW, you owe me a hundred and sixty bucks.”

I lift up a stretchy long-sleeved minidress. It’s basically a ballet leotard. “I’m not wearing this!” I shriek. “I’ll look like a prostitute.”

“I have that in purple,” Kat says, glaring at me.

Whoops . . . “It’s not really my look,” I say. “I mean, I’m sure you look amazing in it. But it’s not me.” I spot a black lace corset at the bottom of the pile. “You expect me to go to school in lingerie?”

Kat scoots over to the edge of the bed. “So what! You’re gonna look hot. You strut into school wearing that and some high-ass heels, and Reeve’s head will be spinning. All you have to do is wear the clothes; then you catch his eye. Next comes physical contact, a touch on the arm, a hand on his knee. Then you talk to other guys and inspire jealousy. It’s simple.”

“Um, excuse me, but I know how to talk to boys,” I snap. As if I need Kat to give me advice on how to get a boy to notice me! I add, “For your information, I set a student-council record last Valentine’s Day for most roses ever sent to a girl at Jar High.” True, a dozen were from my dad, but I got roses from boys, too. I even beat out Rennie. She kept saying how I wouldn’t have won if it haven’t been for my dad. Now that I’m thinking of it, I’ll beat her this year too. I’ll do whatever it takes, talk to ugly freshmen dorks if I have to.

Kat heaves a sigh. “Fine. If you’re not going to wear this stuff, then what do you have in mind?”

I pop some popcorn into my mouth and think. “Well, I have this cute blouse with a bow at the collar; I could wear that with these amazing gray flannel shorts that roll up on the bottom. I saw them online last night.”

Mary and Kat exchange a look.

Kat leans forward. “Listen. The way I see it, you’re more of a Jackie O type. You’re classy and refined and stylish.”

I give her a nod. “True, true, and true.”

Rolling her eyes, Kat continues. “But we need you to be a Marilyn. Sexy. A bombshell. Like, we don’t want Reeve to want to bring you home to his mom. We want him to want you. Hard-core obsession want. Blue balls want—”

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Giggling, I fall back into the hammock. “But you guys, he’s so gross. I’ll be throwing up in my mouth every time I have to pretend cozy up to him.”

Kat tosses the stretchy dress at my head. “At least try it on.”

Mary says, “Yeah, Lil. Anything’s going to look pretty on you.”

I groan.

“Lil, trust me on this. I know what I’m talking about. Do you know how many lead singers I made out with this summer? Four! There were hotter girls there than me, but I’m the one they picked out of the crowd. You wanna know why? Attitude. It’s all about attitude. You act like you’re hot shit and guys are so dumb they’ll totally believe it.”

She’s completely right. Look at Rennie. Rennie’s all attitude. Whatever she wants, she gets. She has the whole school under her spell. Forget Marilyn. I’ll just channel Rennie.

I pick up the dress. “So what do you guys want me to wear first? This streetwalker dress or this bra top?”

Mary squeals, and Kat’s eyes gleam as she says, “Definitely the dress.”

When we pull into the school parking lot on Monday, Nadia sees her friend Janelle and gets me to drop her off by the front entrance. I take my time parking and then fixing my hair in the rearview mirror. I put it in my mom’s hot rollers before I went to bed and then I slept on it so it wouldn’t be too bouncy. Bombshell hair, Kat kept saying last night. This isn’t exactly bombshell hair, but it’s fancier than my normal style. I dab some pink gloss on my lips, too.

When I step out of my car, I make sure to keep my trench coat buttoned and tied tight around my waist. Right as I close the car door, I spot Kat watching me from across the lot, hanging on the chain-link fence. She shakes her head and mouths, No coat. I mouth back, I’m cold, and I shoot her a pleading look, but she shakes her head again. She mouths, Marilyn. Slowly, I peel the coat off and stow it in my trunk.

I make my way across the parking lot and into the school. I’m wearing my highest heels, the pale pink patent-leather ones from homecoming. I walk up the steps carefully so I don’t trip and fall. The dress is super tight but also totally comfy, because it’s basically spandex. It barely covers my butt and it makes my boobs look huge, which never, ever happens. I hope I don’t get sent home for wearing it. My mom would probably faint.