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“I’m not sure the others would go for that,” I say, happy that I can talk about Ella and Betsey. Happy that he knows about them.
Sean and I are quiet for a couple of seconds, listening to each other’s stillness. And then: “So, I have to talk to you about something,” I say, remembering a conversation from earlier.
“Something else?” Sean asks, and even though he’s joking, I can hear his nervousness. “Should I be worried?”
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, but you might.”
“Why? What is it?”
“Well, you know that our mom will only let us date Dave,” I say slowly.
“Yeah, but I sort of assumed…” Sean’s words trail off. This is what I was afraid of: that he’d think I could simply start dating him instead. “You’re going to keep seeing him, aren’t you?” he says, voice dipped in jealousy.
“Well, it’s not like I like him,” I say. “But it’s that or nothing. And dating anyone is a step in the right direction.” I sigh. “Besides, it’s not me who’s dating him. I just have to tolerate him at school.”
“You’re not exactly selling me here, Lizzie,” Sean says quietly.
“My… the others and I talked about it, and we think there’s a way for us to date both of you at once.”
“Won’t your mom know?” he asks.
“Not if we’re careful.”
“I don’t like this,” Sean says. “What about at school when you’re with Dave? I’m just supposed to pretend I don’t care when you’re holding his hand in the hallway?”
“I don’t hold his hand in the hallway.”
“Ella probably does,” he says.
I blow my hair out of my eyes, frustrated. Getting to know Sean shouldn’t have to be this complicated. I don’t answer because I don’t know what to say.
“So, what are we doing then, Lizzie?” he asks seriously.
“I…” I begin. “I’m not sure.” When I hear him tsk on the other end of the line, I hastily add, “But I know what I want to be doing.”
“Okay,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Will we?” I ask, feeling hopeful and defeated at the same time.
“Yeah,” he says, surprising me by sounding sure. “We will.”
sixteen
Monday at the switch, Betsey follows me outside to meet Ella. Even though it’s lunchtime, she’s still wearing pajamas. I hear her fuzzy slippers shhshhshhshh on the walkway behind me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking over my shoulder. She ignores me, so I turn forward again. I pull the bottom of my pink tank top so it’s smooth under the white cardigan. I stop walking and wait for Ella to park, shifting my weight to my left foot. I hate these flats. Ella wears them all the time, but they pinch.
Ella takes her sweet time getting out of the car, but finally she appears. She flips her curly hair over one shoulder and starts toward us, removing the necklace and eyeballing Betsey at the same time.
“How was Grayson?” I ask. They have history together.
Ella shrugs. “Quiz day. She was late and I rushed out at the bell, so she didn’t have the chance to say anything. I’m not sure she was going to, though.”
Ella looks at Betsey. “What’s up?” she asks, manicured eyebrows furrowed. It reminds me that I meant to pluck this morning. I hope no one notices that Elizabeth Best’s eyebrows are less sculpted after lunch.
“Give me the locket,” Bet says, holding out a hand.
“Why?” Ella asks, looking fearful, like she thinks Betsey might smash it or something. I gotta admit: I’m a little afraid myself. Betsey is getting pretty gutsy where Mom’s concerned. She’s seemed genuinely unfazed since Grayson saw us Saturday.
