The Jersey Girl

THE MISTAKE SCENE

**THE MISTAKE SCENE**

Ever since the party yesterday, I could not stop thinking about Scene. He said my name when Angelica was kissing him. That could mean a lot of different things, but only one stands out the most. He wanted it to be me.

I just don’t understand him. I never knew boys were so utterly confusing. One second he hates me, the next he’s acting as if we’re best friends again. I want to talk to him, ask him what’s going on. But I don’t know where he is. I tried his house, his mom said he wasn’t there. Not at work, not at Jake’s. The only other place I can think of is at Angelica’s, but I don’t know where she lives.

I sigh when I get downstairs. I walk into the kitchen, grabbing some Special K cereal and blindly pouring it into a bowl. I swash some milk in as well. I grasp a spoon and devour the crunchy goodness.

Tammy walks in then, humming some tune. “Scene said your name when he was making out with Angelica?”

I groan. “How do you know that?”

She shrugs. “Jake told me. He’s telling everybody he sees, he’s acting like a little girl.” She slides into the seat next to me. “Spill.”

I shrug too. “You know everything already.”

She shakes her head furiously. “No I don’t! Something must’ve happened before that.” She’s right, but I don’t want to tell her that.

“Jake and I are fake dating. His idea to get Scene jealous, or whatever. We went to that party, Scene was there, Jake and I danced. He got pissed, so he came over and tore us apart. We danced, then fireworks went off and Jake kissed me. I guess he got mad and then kissed Angelica, and you know the rest.”

As I finish, her eyes go as wide as saucers. “Oh my god,” She squeaks.

I eat some more cereal, growing bored of this conversation. “I know.”

“You know what this means?” She asks, voice unusually high.

“No, I don’t.”

“He totally wants you!”

I let out a big sigh. “Scene practically hates me, Tam.”

“No he doesn’t. You wanna know why?” Not really, but you’re going to tell me anyways. “The first year you left, he would come to me almost every day and just talk about you.” She shoots me a smirk. “I even know what happened the day before you left.”

Something shoots through me. He told her? “You know?”

“He told you he loved you.” She leans back in her seat, smirking. “And you ran away from him.”

It’s true. I was 14, what the hell did I know about love? I ran. I got away from him, without ever telling him I left. He begged me to stay, the exact words I said at the haunted house. But I didn’t listen. I ran away from him and the next day, I was on a plane to California. “He doesn’t love me now. I wasn’t here for four damn years. Of course he’ll get over me.”