The Carrie Diaries Read Free Page A

overheard Jen S telling another girl that if you want to get guys, you have to have “a trademark”—one thing you always wore to make you memorable. For Jen S, this, apparently, is a thick stripe of navy blue eyeliner on her upper lid. Go figure. She leans in to the mirror to make sure the eyeliner is still intact as Jen P turns to me.
    “Guess who’s back at Castlebury High?” she asks.
    “Who?”
    “Sebastian Kydd.”
    “Re-e-e-ally?” I look in the mirror and rub my eye, pretending I have something in it.
    “I want to date him,” she says, with complete and utter confidence. “From what I’ve heard, he’d be a perfect boyfriend for me.”
    “Why would you want to date someone you don’t know?”
    “I just do, that’s all. I don’t need a reason.”
    “Cutest boys in the history of Castlebury High,” Jen S says, as if leading a cheer.
    “Jimmy Watkins.”
    “Randy Sandler.”
    “Bobby Martin.”
    Jimmy Watkins, Randy Sandler, and Bobby Martin were on the football team when we were sophomores. They all graduated at least two years ago. Who cares? I want to shout.
    “Sebastian Kydd,” Jen S exclaims.
    “Hall of Famer for sure. Right, Carrie?”
    “Who?” I ask, just to annoy her.
    “Sebastian Kydd,” Jen P says in a huff as she and Jen S exit.
    “Maggie?” I ask. She hates the two Jens and won’t come out until they’ve left the bathroom. “They’re gone.”
    “Thank God.” The stall door opens and Maggie heads for the mirror. She runs a comb through her hair. “I can’t believe Jen P thinks she can get Sebastian Kydd. That girl has no sense of reality. Now, what were you going to tell me?”
    “Nothing,” I say, suddenly sick of Sebastian. If I hear one more person mention his name, I’m going to shoot myself.
     
    “What was that business with Sebastian Kydd?” The Mouse asks a little later. We’re in the library, attempting to study.
    “What business?” I highlight an equation in yellow, thinking about how useless it is to highlight. It makes youthink you’re learning, but all you’re really learning is how to use a highlighter.
    “He winked at you. In calculus class.”
    “He did?”
    “Bradley,” The Mouse says, in disbelief. “Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t notice.”
    “How do I know he was winking at me? Maybe he was winking at the wall.”
    “How do we know infinity exists? It’s all a theory. And I think you should go out with him,” she insists. “He’s cute and he’s smart. He’d be a good boyfriend.”
    “That’s what every girl in the school thinks. Including Jen P.”
    “So what? You’re cute and you’re smart, too. Why shouldn’t you date him?”
    Rule number three: Best friends always think you deserve the best guy even if the best guy barely knows you exist.
    “Because he probably only likes cheerleaders?”
    “Faulty reasoning, Bradley. You don’t know that for a fact.” And then she gets all dreamy and rests her chin in her hand. “Guys can be full of surprises.”
    This dreaminess is not like The Mouse. She has plenty of guy friends, but she’s always been too practical to get romantically involved.
    “What does that mean?” I ask, curious about this new Mouse. “Have you encountered some surprising guys recently?”
    “Just one,” she says.
    And rule number four: Best friends can also be full of surprises.
    “Bradley.” She pauses. “I have a boyfriend.”
    What? I’m so shocked, I can’t speak. The Mouse has never had a boyfriend. She’s never even had a proper date.
    “He’s pretty nifty,” she says.
    “Nifty? Nifty? ” I croak, finding my voice. “Who is he? I need to know all about this nifty character.”
    The Mouse giggles, which is also very un-Mouse-like. “I met him this summer. At the camp.”
    “Aha.” I’m kind of stunned and a little bit hurt that I haven’t heard about this mysterious Mouse boyfriend before, but now it makes sense. I never see The Mouse during the summer because she