SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 29: 7 DAYS UNTIL VANTAGE POINT
It takes us forever—or at least the entirety of Breakfast Club—to clean up. Dace makes a rule that we can’t talk about the guys until we’re done. Which is pure torture but mostly I think she just doesn’t want to talk, period, because she’s so hun- gover. A million years later, we put the last garbage bag in the garage, and then set ourselves up with another round of Advil, coffees and bacon and sit on the stools at the breakfast bar.
“OK now, where to start?” Dace says, and I give her a look. “Yeah, you win. Funeral Boy first.” All Dace knows is that Dylan showed up at the party with Callie but didn’t come in. I recap the 34 glo- rious minutes we were together.
“But no kiss?” Dace says.
“No, no kiss. And then I ran home and that was it. But it was super romantic. Seriously though, in hindsight, why was I so adamant about making curfew?”
“No clue. But you’re cute,” Dace says. “So . . . Funeral Boy, then?”
“Hands down. It was perfection.” I sigh. “OK, tell me what happened with you. I witnessed rounds 1 and 2, but am I missing any others?”
“Rounds 1 and 2 of what?”
“Cole and Asher.”
“I didn’t hook up with Cole.” She makes a face.
“Actually I barely saw him the whole night. Why— did you see him?”
I tell her how I saw her—at least I thought I did— with Cole in her mom’s room. It was definitely Cole. “You were breaking the rule?” she asks, picking at a slice of bacon. “Sorry.”
“So he was in Viv’s room with a girl?”
I nod. Dace’s face clouds over, and she takes another swig of coffee. I feel bad about swooning over Dylan; she probably didn’t have the best night with either guy. But she stands up again and shakes it off.
“Oh well, whatever,” she says, picking up her phone and studying it. “Asher and I did it last night,” she says, as though it’s every day that you have sex for the first time. My mouth literally drops open. Dace taps something into her phone, then puts it back—face down—on the table. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I know she’s not a virgin now and I still am, but somehow, despite being totally hungover, with ashen skin and matted hair, she looks even more glam than ever.
“And I thought my non-kissing moment was epic.”
“Don’t sweat it, Pip. It’ll happen for you too, eventually.”
“So . . . is Asher gonna get to be your boyfriend now?”
Dace rolls her eyes at me and goes around the breakfast bar to the main counter. “Sex does not equal lifelong commitment. It was no big deal.” She pours herself more coffee from the carafe.
“Really?”
“Well, I don’t want to spoil it for you,” she says, moving to fill up my cup but stopping when she realizes I haven’t touched it. “Anyway, it’s indescrib- able. You’ll need to find out for yourself.” She puts the carafe back on the warmer.
Fears officially realized: it does change things. This is why I didn’t want one of us to have sex before the other. She’s acting differently already. Like I can’t handle it. Maybe I can’t.
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 30: 6 DAYS UNTIL VANTAGE POINT
Dylan: Food Alert! Cherry Blasters playing free outdoor concert tomorrow night at Hanlan’s Field. They’re kinda scruffy hipster. Want to go and test the theory — do ugly guys with food name make good music?
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The Rule of Thirds
Teen FictionSixteen-year-old Pippa Greene never goes anywhere without her camera. She and her best friend/supermodel-in-training Dace long ago mapped out their life plan: Pippa will be the noted fashion photographer, and Dace the cover girl. But ever since last...
