Unfriended Read Free Page B

eyes slide over to me, and I found myself wishing, a moment too late, that I’d just brought this up with Schuyler privately. I kept forgettingthat the Connor breakup had its roots in a secret that only Schuyler and I knew.
    Promgate had started, in large part, because of something that Schuyler had done at Choate three years before, involving a cheating scandal. Since Connor prided himself on his “uncompromising ethics”—which he’d even put in his campaign literature when he ran against me for senior class secretary—Schuyler had refused to tell him about what had happened at Choate, knowing that they would break up if he found out. But they had broken up anyway, because he had gotten tired of Schuyler obviously keeping things from him. When I’d seen how miserable Schuyler was after their breakup, I’d begun to suggest that maybe she just tell him what had happened, since at this point it couldn’t really hurt.
    “What are you talking about?” Lisa asked, looking from Schuyler to me, eyebrows raised.
    “Because of the prom,” I said quickly, looking at Schuyler. “Right?”
    “Right,” she agreed a little too emphatically. “Because of the prom.” I saw Lisa look between us again, clearly not convinced. If it had been up to me, I would have told both Lisa and Ruth what had happened. But it wasn’t up to me, and Schuyler hadn’t wanted any more people than necessary to know.
    “Speaking of the prom,” Ruth said, lowering her voice, causing all of us to move a little closer, “any … news?”
    I knew what Ruth was really asking—if Isabel Ryan had surfaced again. Isabel, who went to Hartfield High,was connected with Schuyler and the drama at Choate. Promgate had been necessary because she’d blackmailed Schuyler into giving her our prom queen crown. We’d gotten it back, but along the way had realized that Isabel had been working in tandem with Dell—who, it turned out, was her cousin. Isabel had wanted to get revenge on Schuyler, Dell had wanted to get revenge on me—and for good measure, on Ruth as well. Although I’d previously had no issues with Isabel, after Promgate, it became clear that she blamed me not only for thwarting her revenge plans but for wrecking her prom.
    Ever since then, I had been living with a kind of low-grade anxiety that Isabel would suddenly pop up at the least opportune moment—like when I was struggling through my AP History final, for example. But the school year had ended without incident. As a precaution, I’d added her to my Constellation list—it made me a little more comfortable to know where she was. Which, since school had let out, was Nantucket.
    “No sign of her,” I said, and it seemed like my three friends let out a collective sigh of relief. “I think she’s finally gone back to her cabin of evil, or fortress of solitude, or wherever it is she normally spends her time.”
    My phone beeped with a text, and I grabbed for it, hoping it would be my boyfriend, and feeling myself smile when I saw it was.
    INBOX 1 of 28
From: Nate
Date: 6/20, 4:45 P.M.
OMG! Double feature tonite at the drive-in. Want to go on a date with me, gf?
    I shook my head and smiled again. Nate thought my love of TLAs and slang was ridiculous, and I knew this text was just his way of teasing me. I started to send back an OMG TOTES text, then paused, my hand hovering over my keypad. I had promised to hang out with my friends tonight. We hadn’t planned anything specific, but since our work schedules were all different, it was harder during the summer to get together than it was during the year. But it’s not like we’d had ironclad plans or anything. And I knew they’d understand.
    OUTBOX 1 of 34
To: Nate
Date: 6/20, 4:47 P.M.
    Sounds like a plan, bf. See u in an hour?
    “Don’t tell me,” Lisa said, and I looked up from my phone. “Nate?”
    “Nate,” I said. I dropped my phone and sunglasses in my bag. “He wants to see a movie tonight, so I should probably head home