All the Way Read Free Page A

one of her go for it grins.
    â€œOh, come on. I haven’t even talked to him in two weeks. There’s no way they were fighting about me.”
    â€œMaybe not. But she looked ready to throttle him about something. I’m guessing you don’t get that pissed at someone just for spending too much time with the guys.”
    I forced myself to turn away from the window. How wrapped up in their lives could I get? I had a life of my own—sort of. At least that’s what I was telling myself.
    And honestly, that was the real reason I was so determined to go to the prom. My senior year had sucked, but I didn’t want to let it end that way. I didn’t want to graduate and go off to college feeling like I hadn’t really ever been a senior, hadn’t done all the fun senior stuff and taken advantage of what was supposed to be the best year of my high school life.
    At least if I got a date and turned these last few weeks into something special and memorable, it would make up for a whole year of social isolation.
    â€œSo what am I going to do?” I asked Rachel. Of course I meant about the prom.
    She gave me a sympathetic look but shrugged. What could she say? We both knew I had zilch in the way of choices.
    Rachel checked her watch. “Oh my God, I’ve got to get ready. Jeremy’s picking me up in an hour, and we’re going to a party at Steph’s.”
    She had blurted it out before she thought about how I’d feel.
    Uninvited.
    Quickly, she shot me an I’m sorry look, then gathered up her beads, threw a long shimmery scarf around her neck, and headed for the stairs.
    Hey—it’s not her fault that a few of my old friends have sort of forgotten about me. Not all of them, of course. But Steph and I were never that close.
    I followed her down and out of the garage to the street, where her three-year-old Ford Focus was parked. “Call me when you think of a plan,” I said. “I am not going to miss our senior prom!”
    â€œI’ll ask Jeremy. He’ll come up with someone.”
    It was a hollow promise, I knew, because Jeremy was terrible at this kind of thing. The guy has zero social networking skills. But she was trying.
    â€œGreat—thanks.” I was determined to be optimistic.
    Rachel got into her car and zoomed off into the sunset—literally, the sun was going down. I walked to the mailbox and started to haul out the stack of catalogs we got almost every day. My mom is the mail-order queen.
    Then I heard a car engine roar up and squeal to a stop in front of Molly’s house.
    It was Joey, still driving his shiny black Mustang convertible like he wanted to kill someone. He stomped up the steps to Molly’s house and went in without even knocking.
    Wow. What’s that about? I wondered. It didn’t look like she’d text-messaged him that she was so sorry, would he please come running back right now.
    Then Joey came out again, slamming the door behind him and carrying his backpack. I guess he’d blown out of there in such a hurry the first time, he’d left it behind.
    â€œHi,” he said, instantly slowing down and crossing over from Molly’s driveway to mine.
    â€œHi.”
    I tried not to glance at Molly’s windows. Was she watching us? How much more trouble did this guy want to be in?
    â€œNice top,” Joey said, looking me up and down and grinning at my chest.
    I knew he was technically talking about my sweater, which was a pale blue supershort thing that clung to me in all the right places and showed plenty of midriff. But his eyes were fixed on only one part: my boobs.
    Okay, so I have a great chest, I’ll have to admit.
    I tried not to smile at him, because he was being such a Neanderthal, but he gave me that great, seductive smile he has, dimples and all, and then he met my eyes and didn’t let his own wander down to my chest again. So I finally smiled back.
    â€œThanks.” I