23

Truce?” says Abby, twisting her mouth into a smile.

We’ve just finished a really polished rendition of “California Dreamin’” and she’s using the positive vibe to break the ice. I look around, but Nathan and Caitlin have already snuck away to make out.

“Look, Kev, I’m sorry I gave you a hard time last week. I guess it’s none of my business who you hang out with. I only said it because I think you’re better than those guys.”

I watch her closely to gauge whether she and Taylor are in league together, but I don’t think so. Besides, Abby would probably never talk to me again if she knew I’d kissed four girls in seven days. I can hardly blame her.

“Yo, Kev. Did you hear what I said?”

“Oh yeah …” I try to remember what she just said— something about me being a good guy. “I mean, yeah, thanks.”

“So are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” I assure her.

“So we’re on for Saturday?”

“Saturday?”

“You know … third Saturday of the month.” She waits expectantly for me to fill in the rest. I fail. “It’s curry night, you dope. Crazy British tradition featuring blindingly spicy food and strongly alcoholic beer.”

“Oh, of course. Yeah, we’re definitely on.”

“Great. Is your mom still sticking to her don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy on the booze?”

“I think so.”

“Well, cheers to that.” She raises her hand in mock toast.

In the silence that follows, I watch Abby wrap a stray curl behind her ear. It’s a motion as familiar to me as the sound of her voice, and for a moment I can almost convince myself that nothing at all has changed between us.

“Hey, Abby … ”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for what I said the other night … You were right, I didn’t have the balls to tell the guys no, even though I know I should’ve.”

I must look depressed, because Abby stands behind me and massages my shoulders.

“It’s never too late,” she whispers.

“So Spud, any progress?” beams Brandon.

“Dude,” nods Spud.

“Can we see something … anything?”

“Dude,” warns Spud.

Brandon sighs, accepting that this is Spud’s final—and only, it would seem—word on the matter. He turns to face me and I take a deep breath.

In my dreams I’d visualized this moment, the one when I fill the guys in on Taylor’s measurements. I’d look straight at Zach, invoke the name “Taylor Carson” with delicious emphasis, give them her numbers, and then provide a detailed account of the circumstances under which I came to uncover those numbers. And all the while Zach would be squirming, knowing that I’d one-upped him.

But that was before the date actually happened. The reality is that I’ve been repeatedly reliving Taylor’s blistering attack, and it’s as much as I can do to say the numbers for her and Kayla without flaking out.

The halfhearted smattering of applause quickly fades. I notice there are fewer of us now. Most of the football team has drifted away and I’m not sure why.

Brandon looks confused. He turns to Zach and cocks an eyebrow inquiringly.

“What? So I dumped her,” grunts Zach.

“Oh yeah? Well, now she’s auditioning for the role of Mrs. Mopsely.” Brandon claps me on the back. “So you went to second with Taylor, huh? Zach dates her for a year and gets nowhere, but one date with you and she’s ready to give it up.”

I ought to tell him that he couldn’t be more wrong, but I just can’t.

Meanwhile, Zach stares at me with festering hatred. “And what about Abby?” he quips. “I don’t see her numbers. You must have had her a ton of times by now.”

“No,” I say, loathing Zach for dragging her name into the discussion.

“Oh, come on. I mean, she must be so desperate for it she’d bed anyone. Do you want one of us to take care of her for you? Because if you’re not up to it we’re here for you, just like Brandon said. You know that, right?”

“I don’t need any of you to take care of her, as you put it. When I find out her … her dimensions, I’ll tell you—”

“Her dimensions? You make her sound like a boat. Which I guess is pretty close—”

“Just leave her out of this!”

“Ooooh, look who’s getting all moody.” Zach waves his hands back and forth like he’s Homer Simpson. “Is it that time of the month, Kevin?”

“Screw you.”

Zach smiles. “Know what I think? I think the reason you haven’t got Abby’s scores yet is ’cause she’s a dyke. That’s what I heard, anyway.”

“And I heard you’re an ignorant jerk. Go figure.”

“That’s not a denial though—”

“Yeah, it’s a denial. ’Cause I’m seeing her on Saturday, if you must know.”

Zach shuts up, but he continues to smirk shamelessly. And then I notice that Brandon’s laughing too, which annoys me a whole lot more.