Access Denied (and other eighth grade error messages) (19 page)

I wondered how golden I’d be once I talked to my mom. I tried Chris on his cell first. If he came, it might go easier with
Mom. But he didn’t answer. My fingers shook a bit as I dialed our home number.

“I can’t believe you went off without talking to me first,” my mom said before I could even explain. “I think it’s great that
you went with someone to help her with her project, Erin, but you have to check in first. If you can’t get ahold of me or
your dad, you don’t go. Those are our rules. It’s as simple as that.”

“Fine,” I said, speaking low so Reede couldn’t hear me. “I’ll know for next time.”

My mom sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “And how did you get there?”

I hesitated. I had a feeling she wouldn’t like me taking the city bus, even though it was perfectly safe and people rode it
all the time.

“Her mom brought us.” The lie fell out of my mouth like an old piece of gum.

“Is her mother with you now? I’d like to talk to her.”

“She’s doing her own shopping,” I said, shifting under the weight of the second lie. “We’re supposed to meet her in a minute.”

My mom sighed an irritated sigh through the phone. “Is she bringing you home or do you need a ride?”

“I need a ride.”

After we’d made a plan, I leaned heavily against the wall.

“You okay?” Reede’s voice was quiet next to my ear.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “You’re lucky you don’t have a mom freaking out about everything you do.”

Reede glanced at me, then turned away. “Yeah, I’m lucky,” she said. “My mom doesn’t care what I do.”

Something in her voice made me look at her. Her shoulders were hunched up and she didn’t look at all like the confident, I’m-better-than-all-of-you
girl who’d been strutting around school and the mall today.

But when she turned to me, she flashed her usual smile and I thought maybe I’d imagined what I’d heard in her voice or seen
in the way she was standing.

I STOOD BY MYSELF AT the bus stop on Thursday morning, my arms crossed over my chest as I stared down the road. When I heard
Jilly come up beside me, I waited for her to say something but she didn’t. Was she waiting for
me
to say something after she’d totally reamed me in that e-mail?

Before I could decide what to do, Jilly’s cell phone chimed a text. She glanced down and groaned loudly.

“Will you please tell your boyfriend to stop texting you on my phone?” She held the phone out to me, then pulled it back before
I could take it. “Never mind. I’ll do it.” Her fingers flew over the buttons, eyes narrow, face pinched. I could only imagine
what she was telling Blake. “There,” she said, stuffing the phone in her pocket.

“Please don’t be like this, Jilly,” I said. “Come on. You’re still my best friend.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What? You think I’m jealous?”

“Well, why else would you be mad?”

Jilly snorted. “Give me a break. I’m not jealous of Reede Harper. I just don’t know why you’d want to be friends with her.”
She shook her head. “You know she smokes.” Her expression said she didn’t think I knew and was hoping to shock me.

“I know,” I said, and her face showed surprise. I shrugged like it didn’t bother me, even though I’d freaked out about her
wanting to smoke at my house. “So what?”

“So what?” Jilly said. “What’s wrong with you?” She shook her head in disbelief. “And I can’t believe you’d go to the mall
with
her
and I have to practically drag you to go with
me.
”

I bit my lip. “It was just—” I couldn’t tell Jilly that it was partly because she didn’t think I would go, that she assumed
I’d come with her and not go off without talking to my parents first.