TEMPTATION

MRS. WIRLKEE WAS DRAWING a diagram of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs on the whiteboard as part of her explanation for our semester project. She told us it would be worth a quarter of our grade, but I was only half paying attention. After the fight I had had with my mom that morning, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I needed to think about happy things, things that would distract me, like the biggest party of the year being thrown in my honor, courtesy of my two best friends.

Aimée’s parents would be out of town during my birthday weekend, so Madison convinced Aimée to host one of her bonfires to celebrate even though we lived in Michigan and spring hadn’t exactly sprung yet. Madison was busy inviting everyone we knew and everyone we wanted to know. It was still three weeks away, but I was already picking out outfits. I wouldn’t have to avoid my favorite corduroy mini, seeing as Mom wasn’t home to tell me it was too short to wear out. Guess there’s a silver lining to my family’s dysfunction after all.

A paper airplane landed on top of my purple-and-brown Pumas as I rubbed my neck to loosen the lump forming in my throat. I bent down to pick up the expertly folded note. The double folds of the wings looked impossibly straight. Inside it said: Wirlkee looks smokin’ today.

I looked up at Mrs. Wirlkee’s size-eighteen hips enclosed in a pair of too-tight Wrangler Mom jeans and peeked over my shoulder to find the sender.

It was Caleb Turner. I’d known him practically my whole life. We had playdates together in kindergarten, and he was the only boy who came to my first boy-girl swim party back in seventh grade. I had the biggest crush on him after that, but he started hanging with his older brother’s stoner crew that summer. We hadn’t talked since.

He was grinning at me and nodding his head suggestively. I shook my head and mouthed, “No way!” like the three years of silence between us had never happened.

He wrote something quick on another prepared airplane and shot it my way. I reached under Alicia Westing’s desk to retrieve it. It said: Jealous?

I snorted, and Mrs. Wirlkee cleared her throat followed by a stern “Miss Haines.” I shoved the notes inside my binder and pressed my lips together, stifling a laugh.

After class, Caleb met me at the door. “We should be partners for this psychological-studies thing.”

“You mean psychological strategies?”

“Yeah, that. What do you say?”

I clutched my books to my chest. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I couldn’t be Caleb’s partner for several reasons. Although I was a little curious about why he’d decided to join the land of the sober and talk to me again. “I don’t want to get stuck doing all the work. Sorry,” I added quickly, realizing how snobby that had come out. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Guess you forgot how I got us an A on our simple-machine project.”

“That was fourth grade, Caleb, and your mom built most of it. She probably won’t be available to help out on this one.”

He pushed a lock of floppy blond hair out of his eyes and turned down one side of his mouth. “Doubt any tools will be required for a Psych project, so living with my dad shouldn’t affect our grade.”

The lump re-formed in my throat. I opened my mouth to ask him what it was like splitting his time between two houses since I’d probably be finding out soon, but I waved a hand at him instead. “I didn’t mean—it’s just, you hardly come to class.”

His frown turned into the easy smile that I remembered from elementary school. “Well, I’ll have to start attending regularly so I don’t let down my partner.” The way his voice shook when he said “partner” stirred this urge inside me to hug him. “Sorry I got you scolded by Wirlkee, but you looked like you could use some comic relief. Something up?”

Yes, I answered in my head, an Everest-sized something that you’re probably the only person I know who would understand. Out loud I said, “Okay. I’ll be your partner for the project.”

He nodded at me like he knew I would say yes all along; I kind of did too. “We should get together this weekend to work on our project,” he suggested.

I started to tell him we should stick to in-school partnering, but he interrupted me. “Wanna ditch second and go sledding?”

A laugh burst out of me. “No.” It felt so good to laugh after the world-shattering morning I’d had with Mom that I laughed again. Caleb was right. I’d needed some comic relief. “Who goes sledding in March anyway?”

“Oh.” He held his hands out and lowered his voice. “Let me clarify that ‘sledding’ means smoke a jay.”

I elbowed him in the ribs and teased, “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“You could be.” He winked at me.

I turned my head away and pulled on my bottom lip to hide my smile. “No, I couldn’t.”

“You sure?”

“Cassi.” My head snapped up when I heard my name. Ethan jogged down the hall with his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Ready for Español?”

I flicked my eyes at the guy to my left as I hugged the one on my right.

“Hey, man.” Ethan gave Caleb a guy nod.

Caleb nodded back, uncharacteristically quiet. My heart was going an inexplicable fifty thousand beats a minute. I couldn’t decide why I was suddenly so anxious. Or maybe I just didn’t want to admit why.

“I’m gonna split, Cassidy,” Caleb said casually, like there’d been no notes and no invitation to share illegal substances. “Go do some sledding.” He held two fingers to his mouth, waggled his eyebrows, and spun on his heels to leave.

“What was that about?” Ethan asked, escorting me down the hall with an arm around my shoulders. It felt like a bag of bricks. “There’s hardly any snow left on the ground.”

“I hear there’s a storm coming,” I said quietly.

“What?”

“He’s in my Psych class.” I tried to imitate Caleb’s casual tone.

“I’m surprised he even knows his schedule.” Ethan chuckled.

I stopped and crossed my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ethan turned to face me. “He’s a total pothead, Cassi. Everyone knows that.”

“He’s not that bad. I wouldn’t call him a ‘pothead.’”

“Didn’t you see that little smoky gesture he made back there?” He pointed with his thumb. “He’s probably tokin’ up right now.”

“Maybe it’s his way of dealing with stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Family stuff. Stuff you would never understand. I shook my head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Plus, I heard he’s on probation for breaking and entering.”

“That’s a dumb rumor. You don’t even know him.” It came out shaky and defensive. I never spoke to Ethan like that.

His eyes widened at my unexpected response. “Well, I know his type.”

“His type?” A knot twisted my stomach. What would Ethan think of me if he knew my family had become as broken as Caleb’s?

“He’s bad news,” Ethan added.

“Who’s bad news?” Madison bumped my hip with hers as she joined us.

I avoided Ethan’s confused expression as I changed the subject, asking Madison, “Did you finish the guest list yet?”

“I still have a few strategic additions to make, but it’ll be ready in time. The only snag will be if it snows, but don’t you worry, Dees, your party will go on, snow or shine.”

“Sounds like it’ll be a celebration worthy of its guest of honor.” Ethan kissed the top of my head.

Without warning, Madison held her hands up and started talking animatedly about her plan to score drinks for my birthday party. It involved her ample cleavage, Harlot Red lipstick, and her cousin’s expired driver’s license.

Ethan told her, “If anyone can convince a third-shift party-store employee to sell to a minor with a questionable fake, it’s you.”

Madison smiled at him, blushing slightly at the compliment. They went back and forth on strategies to make her look older. I was thankful for the interruption. The conversation Ethan and I had been having was going nowhere good fast.

“So will you?” Madison asked me.

“Huh?” I shook myself out of my thoughts and looked questioningly at her.

“Will you walk me to class?”

“Um.” I glanced at Ethan. “We have Spanish on the other side of the building. Why do you need me to walk you?”

“Because Drew can’t keep his hands off me today.”

“Guess you guys are on again?” Ethan said.

Madison nodded and rolled her eyes. “Must be Tuesday.”

“You know, if Drew wasn’t my friend,” Ethan replied, “I’d be obligated to tell you that you deserve better.”

She brushed her bangs down over her eyes. “He means well. I’m just not feelin’ it today. So what do you say, Dees? Pretty please walk me. Ethan can cover for you with Señorita Cope, right?” She peeked up at Ethan through her bangs.

I could feel him watching for my reaction, but my eyes were glued to the floor.

“Of course. I’ll tell Cope that Wirlkee kept you late,” Ethan said.

“See?” Madison tugged on my elbow, coercing me in the direction opposite to where I needed to be headed. “He does everything for you. You’re so lucky.”

“He does not,” I protested.

“But I would if you asked.” Ethan pulled me back to him and kissed the back of my hand, then lifted my arm above my head and spun me out toward Madison. “I love watching you twirl.” The uncomfortable tightness in my stomach loosened some.

After we turned the corner, Madison asked, “You okay?” I nodded, purposely avoiding her concerned eyes. She adopted a lighter tone. “So, are you budding up with the little-stoner-that-could again?”

“No,” I said too loudly.

“Oh. I saw you guys walk out of class together, thought maybe it was middle school all over again.” She paused. “I heard he’s still into you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I replied automatically.

She leaned away from me so she could study my face. I bit down on my twitching bottom lip. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You missed ballet yesterday. Is it—?”

“It’s nothing,” I interrupted her. There was no use trying to explain about my parents to her, or to Ethan and Aimée for that matter. Their families were perfect. “I guess I’ve been tired or something.”

“Well, studio was torture without you there. We learned a new eight count that is going to be the end of me. I swear Madame Tourand’s sole choreographical goal is to break one of my hips so I won’t be able to perform in the recital.”

“She’s only trying to motivate you. She can tell when someone’s heart isn’t in it.” I gave her the same questioning eyebrow raise I always gave her when the topic of ballet came up, silently asking why she continued dancing when she clearly hated it.

She ignored the gesture as usual. “Want to come over tonight so I can teach you? It’s an excuse to get out of your house,” she offered.

The idea of my house being a place to avoid struck a pang of sadness in my heart. “That’s okay. I’m sure I’ll catch up pretty quick tomorrow.”

“I know you will, but I’m worried about you, Dees.”

“That’s because you’re a good friend.”

“Takes one to know one.” She shook her hair away from her face, stopped in front of her classroom, and drawled in her most baby-sweet voice, “Thanks for being my escort.”

As she air-kissed me on both cheeks, I couldn’t get Caleb’s easy smile out of my head. When I opened my eyes, Madison was staring at me. I hadn’t realized I’d closed them.

“You better rest up before your birthday party,” she said. “It’s going to be unforgettable.”