The next week is completely crazy. I have so many Boyfriend Whisperer assignments, I barely have time to think about Chris and Lindsay. That is, until Thursday afternoon when Lindsay shouts to me as I’m rounding the corner to F Hall on my way to meet Abi.

“Lexi, there you are!”

I twirl around. What’s she doing here? No one ever comes down to this part of the school. “Hey, Lindsay. ’Sup?”

“Chris and I have missed you at lunch this week. Where’ve you been?”

I shrug. I doubt they’ve missed me at all, though I suppose it’s sweet of her to say so. “Lots of projects due.”

“Oh, I know. Isn’t it ridiculous? It’s like the teachers don’t realize we have lives.” Lindsay leans in a little. “Anyway, I wanted to ask if you’d like to come bowling with us Saturday morning. We’re going to check out that new place in Leesburg.”

Bowling? She doesn’t strike me as the type. No pun intended. “Um. Like I said, I’m pretty swamped right now with all my—”

“Oh, come on.” She gives my arm a playful slap. “It’ll be fun. Take a couple hours off to hang with your friends.”

Friends. Is that what we are? Because I can barely handle being around her. I take a deep breath. She’s right, of course. And I’m being petty, as usual. And if I want to stay friends with Chris—and let’s face it, no stupid crush is worth losing my best friend over, even if they do happen to be the same person—maybe I need to start making Lindsay my friend, too. “Sure,” I say, again forcing a smile. “You’re absolutely right. A couple of hours can’t hurt.”

I circle around and down another hallway until I’m sure she’s gone before heading back toward the closet. The late bell is going to ring in about two minutes, and Abi’s going to kill me.

Sure enough, she’s standing just inside the door, tapping her foot. “Do you even care that I’m going to be late to P.E.? One more after this and Mr. Hawk will give me detention.”

“Sorry, but Lindsay cornered me on my way over here. She wants me to go bowling with her and Chris Saturday.” I shudder.

“Bowling? What’s that about?”

“I have no idea. It’s not important. Why did you need to see me?”

“You’d better be careful with that girl, Lexi. She’s a total wench. I don’t trust her.”

I give Abi a weak smile. If I weren’t her boss, and if we weren’t so different, she’d be a great person to have as a friend. “It’s just bowling. And actually, Lindsay has been nothing but nice to me. I can’t point to a single reason to hate her. Other than the obvious. If anything, I’m the one who’s been the wench.”

“Oh, please. ‘Nice’ is not in Lindsay’s wheelhouse. She’s playing you. If there were such a thing as frequent liar miles, that girl would have been to Saturn and back.” Abi swipes at her phone and checks the time. “Dammit. I really need to go. I just wanted to warn you that I’ve been hearing some rumblings.”

“Rumblings?”

“Yeah. Apparently a whole group of girls from the volleyball team are pissed at you … at the Boyfriend Whisperer. Something about Jenna Matthews dating one of their brothers and then totally cheating on him.”

“What? I’m supposed to police my clients? And anyway, who the heck is Jenna Matthews? She wasn’t even a client.”

“Doesn’t matter. They think she was. They’re on a mission to out you.”

“Well, tell them she wasn’t our client. Tell them I’ve never heard of her.”

Abi tilts her head. “Like they’ll believe me. They know I’d never betray the client-whisperer privilege.” The bell rings, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “Great. The things I do for this stupid job.”

I give her a quick hug. “You’re the best, Abi. And don’t worry about the rumblings. It’ll blow over.”

 

 

Boy’s got form. I can’t help but admire it as Chris sends the ball sailing down the alley for his fourth strike of the morning. Unbelievable. The last time we bowled was about two years ago, and he was lucky to get a spare or two. Now he’s hefting around a sixteen-pound ball and knocking down the pins like a pro.

The Leesburg alley is brand new—one of those super-fancy spots with glow-in-the-dark balls, neon blue light strips lining the gutters, and giant screens playing sports at the other end of the lanes. We’re sipping on fancy juice smoothies and munching on pita bread with hummus as we play. Part of me longs for the scuffed-up floorboards and overcooked hot dogs of our old alley. Back in the day, Chris and I spent hours messing around on the lanes and in the arcade room, and I never gave a single thought to his stupid form.

“Have you been secretly practicing?” I ask as we bump fists.

“If you count the Wii. It’s all about the follow through.” He pulls a super-serious face and demonstrates his arm motion.

Lindsay wraps her arm around Chris’s waist. “What can’t this guy do?” She beams as she gazes up at him. “I’m a lucky girl, Chris Broder.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him, so I turn away and hold my already bone-dry hands over the ball-return hand dryer. Never mind me. Just a third wheel spinning uselessly over here.

“You’re up, Lexi.” Chris scoots toward the lobby. “I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

Lindsay and I watch as he lopes off.

“Does he seem different to you this morning?” Lindsay asks.

“What?”

“Does Chris seem any different?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Why?”

Lindsay gives me a sly smile. “It took him forever, but he finally made a move last night.”

“Oh?” Half of me wants to run screaming from this conversation, but the other half needs to know exactly what “move” she’s referring to. A look-different-the-next-morning move sounds … ugh. On the other hand, I don’t think I want to know.

“He was amazing. Truly.” Lindsay’s eyes are practically the size of the bowling balls, and her conspiratorial smile leaves little doubt as to what she’s talking about.

“Wow … that’s …” I try to sound casual, to hide the funhouse of images and emotions tumbling around inside me. Breathe, Lexi.

Lindsay lays her hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

She gives me a hug. “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

I grab a ball and turn away. I do not want to be this girl’s friend, cannot be her friend, if it means she plans to confide in me about girl things. Not when she’s dating Chris. No way. No, sir. No, thank you.

I must have picked up Chris’s ball, because when I sling my arm back, it feels like—well, like a really heavy bowling ball—and I barely succeed in bringing it forward. It slams onto the floor and crashes straight into the gutter. Awesome. Tears spring to my eyes, so I watch the ball make its excruciatingly slow trip to the end of the lane and into the abyss as I try to blink them away.

“You might want to go back to the eleven pounder.” Chris has come up behind us.

I swivel around. “You think?” It comes out as a bit of a shriek.

“Whoa. Just a suggestion.” He eyes me warily. “You okay?”

I grit my teeth. “Actually, no. I don’t feel well.” I’m not angry, really. More … shaken. Chris apparently has done something with a girl that I’ve never even come close to doing with a guy. My Chris. My best friend, who wouldn’t even try the high dive at the pool or the Intimidator Coaster at King’s Dominion without me beside him, encouraging him. Not that I would have wanted to be beside him last night, obviously, but … crap. “I think I’m going to head out.”

Chris walks toward me, concern in his eyes. “You do seem a little pale. You all right to drive? Because I could drive you home in your car and Lindsay can follow in mine.”

Lindsay appears at his side. “That’s nice of you, Chris, but I can’t drive a stick.”

“Apparently, you can.” I blurt this without thinking.

Lindsay bursts into giggles, and Chris glances back and forth between us. “What?”

“Nothing. Listen, I’ll be fine. You guys finish my game.” I force a smile, but on the way out, I stop in the ladies’ room. The hummus wasn’t that great going down, but it’s positively disgusting coming back up.