Leslie's Journal - Allan Stratton [10]
Mom stops in her tracks. She’s so mad I think she’s going to have a stroke. “You are sooo grounded!”
“Go ahead. Ground me.” I glare back. “If I have to stay home, I’ll make your life hell. You up for it?”
For a second, Mom gets this scared look in her eyes. She knows she can’t back down. But she knows I won’t back down either. Stalemate. That’s when I play my ace. I tell her about Katie’s sleepover and how Katie was planning to introduce me to some girls from her church youth group. That cools Mom down, seeing as she thinks Katie is such a good influence. “Will her mother be there?”
“What do you think?”
She checks anyway, calling Mrs. Kincaid that very second. To cut a long story short, I’m no longer grounded and the bag of clothes stayed in my room. I should be a diplomat or something.
Which brings me to how God exists after all.
I’m at my locker this morning when I realize I’m being stared at. I turn around, and it’s Jason. He doesn’t say much. Just smiles and points his finger at me. “I’ll be at Mister Pizza’s at 12:10.” Then he winks, swivels slowly and saunters down the hall.
Katie, Ashley, Kimberly and Sara all stand there dumbstruck, jaws bouncing off the floor. I take off fast so they won’t see I feel the same way.
The rest of the morning I spend in the washroom getting ready for our date. I make sure I’m at Mister Pizza’s early. But no sooner am I getting comfortable than in waltzes the coven. They sit down at the next booth.
“What are you trying to do, scare him off?” I say.
“You don’t own this place,” Ashley smirks.
I want to smack her, but then I see Jason crossing the road, so I let out a major sigh and move to the booth at the far end. In he walks all breezy and confident, gives me a nod, goes up to the counter and orders two slices of double cheese, pepperoni and mushrooms and a couple of Cokes. (He knows what I want without even asking— is he amazing or what?) Then he brings them to the table, passing by my so-called friends like they don’t exist.
After a little small talk, Jason asks if I’m doing anything Saturday night. I tell him I’ll have to check my calendar. He laughs, like he knows there’s nothing to check, and says great, he’ll pick me up at my place around six. We can grab a quick bite and an early flick, then go to a couple of clubs he likes. I tell him I’ll need fake ID, but he says not to worry, he knows the guys at the door. Or if it bothers me, we can go to an all-ages club a few blocks over.
Terrific. Only I suddenly remember he can’t pick me up at my place because I’m supposed to be at Katie’s, so I tell him I’ll be hanging out at the Southside Mall all Saturday afternoon. We arrange to meet at Starbucks. Then he knocks back the rest of his Coke, says, “Catch ya later” and heads out the door.
I get up slow, stretch and glide over to the loser booth. “Guess who’s going clubbing with Jason McCready Saturday night?” I gloat.
“But what about my party?” Katie asks.
“Sorry,” I say. “Divine intervention.”
Katie looks like somebody let the air out of her bicycle tires.
“That’s okay,” sniffs Ashley. “I guess we know who your real friends are, don’t we, Katie?”
I glare at her, but before I can say anything Katie whines, “But my mom’s expecting you. What’ll I tell her?”
“Say I got sick.”
“You want me to lie?”
“Not lie exactly, just help me out.”
“I can’t lie to my mother.”
This calls for heavy artillery. “Look, Katie, if you don’t tell your mother I’m sick, I’ll tell her about you-know-what.”
Katie goes white. You’d think she’d killed somebody or something instead of what she really did, which was have a quickie puff on this joint I scored. (She couldn’t even hold it down, just coughed her guts out.) “You promised you’d never tell!”
“Be good and I won’t,” I smile, and I blow them all a kiss, pirouette and sail away.
Outside, I can’t believe what I’ve done. I’ve blackmailed my best friend. And I almost don’t feel guilty!
Eight
Two days till Saturday. This is worse than waiting for Christmas. Why does time go by so slowly?
Ms. Graham isn’t looking too