What If... All Your Friends Turned On You (20 page)

Once things progress to the bedroom, it can be difficult to slow down the momentum. You'd better make sure Haley is ready to go all the way—or do everything but—before she says yes and follows Alex upstairs
.

A
fter school on Haley's birthday, her dad picked her up and drove her to the DMV. There, she took her driver's test and passed with flying colors. She was a little shaky on three-point turns, but the woman scoring her road test didn't seem to pick up on it. Afterward, Haley ran outside to the waiting room and waved her brand-new driver's license at her dad.

“Congratulations!” He gave her a big hug. “My little girl's a driver. Want to chauffeur me home?”

Haley carefully maneuvered her parents' hybrid
from the DMV for the twenty blocks or so to her own street. She was beginning to feel comfortable behind the wheel when, right as she turned into her driveway, she nearly rear-ended a hideous car that was blocking the garage. It was a large, pale yellow sedan covered with bumper stickers like “I Brake for Cookies,” “Lady in a Walker on Board” and “Sunday Drivers = Safe Drivers.” Haley recognized it instantly as her grandmother's old Lemon, famous for the way it backfired every few feet.

“Is Gam Polly here for my birthday?” Haley asked enthusiastically. “If that's the case, I'll forgive her for parking her giant monstrosity of a car in my parking space.”

“That giant monstrosity … is your new car!” Perry announced. “Happy seventeenth birthday, Snoodles!”

“What?” Haley was stunned. She'd been hoping for a car—a new car. Barring that, she'd been hoping for something she wouldn't be too embarrassed to be seen in. But this—this was a travesty. Her worst nightmare, on wheels. “You say that like it's a good thing.”

Her father laughed. “It's all yours, Haley. You deserve it.”

You mean I deserve to be punished?
she thought.
Because that's what this feels like
.

“Yay,” she said halfheartedly, purely for her father's benefit.

Her birthday dinner with the family that night cheered her up a little. Haley knew she shouldn't sulk about getting Gam Polly's clunker instead of a cool new ride, like the one Coco got on her birthday or even Annie Armstrong's tiny electric car. She supposed the Lemon was better than no car at all, and she tried to be a good sport about it.

However, she absolutely refused to drive the car to the game that night. She wasn't ready to introduce the Lemon to the world, and she doubted she ever would be. What would Coco say if she saw Haley driving an old-lady car? What would any of her friends think?

Haley didn't want to know. Besides, she figured, if she didn't have a car, she would need a ride home. And maybe that would give her an excuse to approach Reese Highland, her handsome—and lately estranged—neighbor. So she told her parents she didn't feel ready to drive alone at night yet, and they happily agreed to drop her off at school for the game.

Haley slipped into the gym in the middle of the first quarter. During their on-again moments, Reese had told Haley many times over that he had one rule about game days: no surprises. He loved having Haley in the crowd, so long as he was prepared to see her there. But he hated the idea of her showing up at a game unexpectedly—it threw off his timing.

However, Haley just assumed all those silly rules were out the window now that they were no longer
doing anything close to dating. After all, she'd barely spoken to Reese since he'd returned from his winter trip to Nevis with Spencer and the guys. Reese had been caught on camera snuggling up to a swimsuit model, and after that, Haley had barely given him the time of day.

Lately, though, she'd been hearing talk that Reese had been set up by Spencer and the gang on the trip. Apparently, they had spiked his drink and then encouraged one of the girls to cozy up to him. In his inebriated state, Reese hadn't been able to protest. In fact, he was so out of it he'd barely known what was going on.

Now all Haley wanted was to have him back in her life, even if that meant just being friends for a while. This game was huge for Reese—Hillsdale was battling it out with Ridgewood, their eternal rival, for first place in the division. The only bigger game would be the following week when Hillsdale went to Ridgewood for a rematch in the play-offs. Haley innocently hoped a show of support would go a long way toward making amends. Wouldn't he notice if she didn't bother to show up at all for his big game? Wouldn't that, more than anything, make the distance between them grow? That was Haley's line of thinking, anyway, as she sat down in the bleachers, blending into the crowd.

At first Reese was too busy playing to notice her, and he played a great first half. He scored sixteen
points and logged five assists. By halftime the Hawks were up by three. The game was close but Hillsdale was always a step ahead of their rivals.

Haley cheered along with the crowd but didn't do anything to draw attention to herself. Then, early in the second half, a Ridgewood player fouled Reese. As he stepped up to the line to take his foul shot—his specialty—Haley couldn't resist calling out, “Go, Reese!” breaking the silence in the crowded gym. Reese heard her and looked toward her, distracted. He caught her eye and looked wounded, surprised. Her heart sank.
Uh-oh
. She knew she had made a terrible mistake, not calling first to warn him of her presence.

Reese bounced the ball, trying to regain his concentration. He took his first foul shot—missed. The crowd groaned. Second shot—missed again. Not like Reese at all. Haley wanted to sink under the bleachers and hide.

After that, Reese's game went further downhill. He missed another foul shot and, most embarrassing of all, he completely blew three wide-open layups. He didn't score another point for the rest of the game. Reese Highland, star hoops player, looked like a klutz out there on the court. His teammates tried to pick up the slack but it wasn't enough. Ridgewood took advantage and surged past the Hawks. Final score: 68 to 53, Ridgewood. The Hawks had suffered a humiliating meltdown.

Devastated, the crowd booed the team off the court. As the spectators dispersed, Haley heard them muttering things like “What a joke” and “What happened to Highland? He completely lost it out there.”

“He played like my grandmother after she's had a few scotches,” one guy said. “And that ain't good.”

Haley felt terrible. She'd meant well. She'd only wanted to support him. Had this big loss really been all her fault?

Maybe Reese will forgive me
, she thought.
Our relationship is more important than a basketball game, right?
She clung to that thin thread of hope even as, deep down, she had her doubts. Strong doubts.

Still in denial, Haley waited for Reese to emerge from the locker room. It took a long time. All the other players came out first, wet-headed and dejected, and left with barely a glance in Haley's direction. At last, Reese came out and headed straight for his car.

“Reese!” Haley called. “Wait!”

He kept walking and didn't look back.

“Reese!” She ran up and tugged on his arm. He shrugged her off, then turned to face her.

“Haley, you haven't even spoken to me in weeks, and then you show up here tonight without telling me? When the one thing I've ever asked you not to do is surprise me during a game? There were easier ways of getting my attention.”

She shrank back, startled. He'd never spoken to
her so harshly before. “I—I just wanted to say I'm sorry. About the game. About everything. I should have given you a chance to explain after … Nevis.”

“Yes, you should have,” Reese said. “But you clearly don't trust me or have any respect for our relationship.”

“Of course I do, Reese,” Haley said. “That's why I came. I wanted to show you how much I care about—”

“It's too late,” he said, sounding truly disappointed. “I can't listen to this right now.” He got into his car and started the engine. And Haley was left in the parking lot without a ride home—and without a boyfriend.

Haley should have known better. After all that's happened between her and Reese, and after she saw those very suggestive pictures from Nevis, she should have picked a quieter and more private place to talk things out, rather than surprising him in the middle of a crucial game
.

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DEAD END

H
aley's hand twitched from nerves as she rang the doorbell at Coco's enormous McMansion. Haley had grown increasingly worried about her friend in recent days. Lately, Coco had appeared to be eating nothing at all—or at least not anything beyond a couple of orange slices, some green tea and a hot water/lemon juice/cayenne pepper/dash of maple syrup concoction. The extreme fad dieting had allowed her to shrink from skinny to superskinny in under two weeks, though Coco had also apparently had help
from a slew of dangerous diet pills. Haley had caught her popping a handful at school earlier that day.

Haley had considered reporting Coco to the school nurse for treatment. But then she pictured Coco's likely response: threats, screams, all-out warfare. She thought better of that idea, deciding instead to have a heart-to-heart with Coco at her house, on her home turf, where she'd be most comfortable.

Coco's maid, Consuela, answered the door. “'Ello Meez Aley,” she said. “You want to see Meez Coco? She upstairs in her room.”

“Thank you, Consuela.” Haley started up the steps to Coco's bedroom, surprised to have gotten by the first line of defense so easily.
Things must have loosened up in the De Clerq household
, she thought. Coco usually consigned Consuela to be a bouncer and protect her from unwanted guests. Haley had never before been allowed simply to run up to Coco's room uninvited and unannounced. This was most definitely a first.

Coco's door was ajar. Haley knocked and Coco called, “Come in.” She looked surprised to see Haley but not displeased. She was lounging on her daybed, reading a book about the deplorable conditions at most livestock farms, which Haley recognized since her mother owned at least two copies.

“Every time I start craving a steak, I just read a chapter about hormone injections or cattle pens,” Coco explained. “Kills the appetite, let me tell you.”

“Speaking of eating,” Haley said, making herself comfortable in one of Coco's overstuffed chairs. “I wanted to talk to you about your cleanse.”

“It's great, isn't it?” Coco touched one of her cheeks. “Look what it's done for my skin.”

“Your skin does look great,” Haley said. “But then, it always did. It's your bones I'm worried about.”

“Ugh, not you too?” Coco said with a sigh of exasperation. “Please don't try to talk some sense into me, Haley. It won't work.”

“Coco, you must have lost at least ten pounds. And you were a thin girl to begin with. Do you know how much damage you can do, to your heart, your kidneys, your skeletal system? Starvation diets can lead to heart failure, osteoporosis, death!”

“I've only lost nine and a half pounds, actually,” Coco said, ignoring Haley's warnings. “Ten is my goal, then I'll stop.” But Haley wasn't so sure.

“Lots of girls can't stop,” Haley pressed on, “once they begin starving themselves. Look at all the problems Whitney had with her binging and purging. It took
a lot
of couseling to get her straightened out. And you know how she follows you around and copies your every move. If only for Whitney's sake, you should take better care of yourself.”

“Huh, Whitney,” Coco huffed. “She has no self-control at all, no willpower. Do you think she's maintained the cleanse? Of course not. Her mother has her
eating salads and leafy greens the minute she walks in the door after school.”

“Thank goodness,” Haley muttered, glad to know at least Whitney wasn't endangering herself.

“Look, Haley, it's not as bad as you think. I like my body. I liked it before I started dieting. I have no interest in starving or exercising myself into oblivion. I'm taking in plenty of calories, I swear. I've even been keeping a log.” Coco pulled out a little black book, with dates from the previous two weeks and lists of ingested—albeit liquid—items that added up to nine hundred calories a day.

“What about those diet pills I saw you swallowing by the handful?”

“Those are just little herbal pick-me-ups from my trainer,” Coco said. “One hundred percent natural. And if you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself.” Coco held out her cell phone, which Haley refused to take. “This is all just to get back at Spencer,” Coco continued. “To make him eat his heart out. I know I always looked great, but this winter I want to get down to my ‘sucks for you' weight.”