The Carrie Diaries (The Carrie Diaries 1)

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” she says, getting to her feet. “But some people are simply too juvenile to bother with.” She brushes past me on her way out, deliberately stepping on my foot. I pretend not to notice. But even when she’s gone, there’s no relief. My heart is thumping like an entire brass band. My hands are shaking.

Did Sebastian really call her?

And where is Sebastian anyway?

I manage to get through assembly by berating myself for my behavior. What was I thinking? Why did I piss off the most powerful girl in the school over a guy? Because I got the opportunity, that’s why. And I took it. I couldn’t help myself. Which makes me a not-very-logical and perhaps not-very-nice person as well. I’m really going to get into trouble for this one. And I probably deserve it.

What if everyone is mad at me for the rest of the year?

If they are, I’ll write a book about them. I’ll send it into the summer writing program at The New School, and this time I’ll get in. Then I’ll move to New York and make new friends and show them all.

But right as we’re shuffling out of assembly, Lali finds me. “I’m proud of you,” she says. “I can’t believe you stood up to Donna LaDonna.”

“Eh, it was nothing.” I shrug.

“I was watching the whole time. I was afraid you were going to start crying or something. But you didn’t.”

I’m not exactly a crybaby. Never have been. But still.

The Mouse joins us. “I was thinking…. Maybe you and me and Danny and Sebastian could go on a double date when Danny comes up to visit.”

“Sure,” I say, wishing she hadn’t said this in front of Lali. With Maggie mad at me, the last thing I need is for Lali to feel left out as well. “Maybe we can all go out. In a group,” I say pointedly, adding, for Lali’s sake, “Since when did we start needing boyfriends to have fun?”

“You’re right,” The Mouse says, catching my drift. “You know what they say: A woman needs a man about as much as a fish needs a bicycle.”

We all nod in agreement. A fish may not need a bicycle, but it sure as hell needs friends.

“Ow!” Someone pokes me in the back. I turn, expecting to see one of Donna LaDonna’s lieutenants. Instead, it’s Sebastian, holding a pencil and laughing.

“How are you?” he asks.

“Fine,” I say, heavy on the sarcasm. “Donna LaDonna was sitting in my seat when I got to assembly.”

“Uh-huh,” he says noncommittally.

“I didn’t see you in assembly.”

“That’s because I wasn’t there.”

“Where were you?” I can’t believe I just said that. When did I turn into his mother?

“Does it matter?” he asks.

“There was a scene. With Donna LaDonna.”

“Nice.”

“It was ugly. Now she really hates me.”

“You know my motto,” he says, playfully tapping me on the nose with his pencil. “Avoid female trouble at all costs. What are you doing this afternoon? Skip swim practice and let’s go somewhere.”

“What about Donna LaDonna?” It’s the closest I can come to asking if he called her.

“What about her? You want her to come too?”

I glare at him.

“Then forget about her. She’s not important,” he says as we take our seats in calculus.