Which of course has everyone who wasn’t there going, “What’s she talking about?” At which Lilly just smiles all knowingly.
And then there’s the Micha
el thing. Lilly says he wasn’t even there to GET the bagels I sent over this morning. He went back to his dorm room last night after the party ended because his parents were home and didn’t need him to keep Lilly out of trouble anymore.
I’ve sent him, like, three text messages apologizing for being such a weirdo.
All I got back from him was this:
WE NEED 2 TALK
Which can only mean one thing, of course. He—
Oh, wait. J.P. just passed me a note, so we won’t get yelled at for whispering, as happened earlier when he leaned over to let me know my combat boot had come untied.
J.P.:
Hey. You aren’t mad at me, are you?
Me:
Why would I be mad at you?
J.P.:
For dancing with you.
Me:
Why would I be mad at you for DANCING with me?
J.P.:
Well, if it got you in trouble with your boyfriend, or anything.
It was looking more and more like it totally had. But that wasn’t anybody’s fault but mine… and certainly not J.P.’s.
Me:
No. That was totally NICE of you. It helped me not look like the biggest freak in the universe. I’m so STUPID. I can’t believe I had that beer. I was just so nervous, you know. Of not being enough of a party girl.
J.P.:
Well, you looked like you were having a great time, if it’s any consolation. Not like today. Today you look—well, that’s why I thought you might be mad at me. Either because of last night, or maybe because of that thing I said the other day, about knowing you’re a vegetarian because of that fit you had in the caf that one time.
Me:
No. Why would that make me mad? It’s true. I DID have a fit when I found out they put meat in the lasagna. I mean, it was supposed to be vegetarian.
J.P.:
I know. They screw EVERYTHING up in that cafeteria. Have you seen what they do to the chili?
Me:
You mean how they put corn in it sometimes?
J.P.: