All the Way Read Free

us.
    They were having a fight—a real yelling and screaming fight. It was nothing violent, nothing to make you pick up the phone and call 911 or anything. But it was obvious she was really mad, and he was shouting back.
    Then she whirled away and flopped down on her bed, sulking. He just stood there awkwardly, like he didn’t know whether to leave or stay, waiting for her to say something else, but she didn’t. It was so weird, and fascinating at the same time, watching their little drama play out without being able to hear what was going on.
    â€œWhat are they fighting about?” Rachel wondered out loud.
    I shrugged. “They can’t be fighting about sex. She puts out plenty.”
    â€œMaybe he doesn’t put out enough,” Rachel joked.
    â€œJoey? Ha. He’s a total stud.”
    â€œYeah. So what else is there to fight about?” Rachel wondered, then answered the question herself. “Maybe she’s pissed because he spends too much time with his friends.”
    â€œCould be. He hangs with his buddies a lot. Or maybe he’s been flirting with some other girl,” I said.
    Rachel shot me a glance. “That would be you , if I’m not mistaken. Right?”
    â€œMe? Oh, God. No way,” I said, flustered. I hadn’t even thought of that. “I mean, yeah. He was sort of flirting with me last Friday afternoon, but it was just some lame attempt. It didn’t mean anything . . . I don’t think.”
    My voice trailed off, wondering. Did it mean anything? I had already told Rachel all about Joey—how he was the captain of the football team, and one of the most popular jocks in school, despite the fact that he was kind of an arrogant jerk. I couldn’t quite figure out why people at Norton put up with him, let alone liked him so much—he was so full of himself. He had this blog called Joey’s Joint (and believe me, the dirty pun was definitely intended). It was all about himself, all these totally conceited accounts of his weekends and his exploits. Everyone at Norton checked out his blog on Sunday night to find out what outrageous thing he had done, or at least claimed to have done, the two days before.
    My favorite, to be honest, was the time he rode bare-assed on a saucer sled down the hill at the Tall Oaks Country Club, on some kind of bet. Apparently his cute little butt froze to the saucer, and he had to pour a beer on it to get it unstuck.
    Guys who do idiotically dumb things like that seem vulnerable to me, which makes them almost likable.
    Emphasis on almost .
    Anyway, I had told Rachel all that, and how he was always hitting on me and flirting when he ran into me as he left Molly’s house. Her house and mine have adjacent drive-ways, and it usually timed out that I was on my way back for dinner from the garage studio when he was leaving her house to go home.
    No—not on purpose.
    But I didn’t actually think he was serious. I couldn’t possibly be the reason Joey and Molly were arguing—could I?
    I stared, waiting for something else to happen, just like Joey was. Finally Molly sat up and said something to him with a hateful, furious look on her face. Joey froze for a minute. Then he stomped out of her bedroom and slammed the door. We could see five heads snap—all of the people in the family room turned at the sound of the door slamming.
    A minute later, Joey stormed down the driveway, got into his car, revved the engine really loud, and roared away.
    â€œWow,” Rachel said. “That was intense.”
    I nodded, still watching Molly, who was now facedown on her bed.
    Everyone in the family room seemed to know something bad had happened, because they kept looking toward the direction of Molly’s room, waiting for her to come out. When she didn’t, they finally got up, one by one, and slipped out the back door.
    â€œHmmm. Looks like you’re a home wrecker,” Rachel teased, shooting me