Page 5 of Celebrities Don't Date Bookworms

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The other peoplein the group chat didn’t clue in quite as fast as I expected. I thought I would be kicked out by the morning, but instead, my phone was going off throughout the day without any sign of them realizing who I was.

“Who’s texting you so much?” Sloane whispered to me during our English class the next morning. My phone was sitting face up on the desk we shared, and though I’d silenced it, the screen lit up with every notification, which was about every other second.

“It’s just some stupid group chat,” I whispered back without stopping my writing or looking away from the bored. Mrs. Kavinsky moved fast, and if I stopped listening for even a second, I would be lost for the whole period. English used to be my favorite subject, but she had managed to suck almost all the joy out of it.

“A group chat?” Sloane asked. I could hear the frown in the voice. “Since when are you in any?”

I tried not to feel hurt by the insinuation of what she was saying: that I had so few friends that there was no way I could possibly be in any sort of group chat. I couldn’t deny it, but I still didn’t like to think about it too much. I loved Sloane and was happy to have her as my best friend, but sometimes, I did wish that I had more friends than just her. I wished I could have a perfect friend group like people always did in books and movies. Instead, those books and movies were basically my friends—after all, they were the ones I spent time with while Sloane went out every Friday night.

“I was added to one last night,” I said. I left out the part where I was probably added by mistake because everyone seemed to think I was a person namedZ. I didn’t like to keep secrets from Sloane, but I also didn’t want to have to admit that she was right in thinking that me being in a group chat was ridiculous. For once in my life, I wanted to be as cool as her. “I just didn’t realize they would be talking this much. My phone’s going to die before I get home at this rate.”

Even as I complained about it, I wasn’t upset. Having to bring your phone charger to school felt like one of those weird measures of popularity—like people were contacting you enough throughout the day that your phone battery couldn’t possibly last eight hours. It was a random metric and not one that most people probably ever thought about, but ever since I noticed it, I couldn’t stop. It was nice to be on the other side of it for once.

“You can borrow my charger if you want,” Sloane said. Because, of course, she had a charger—she couldn’t go ten minutes without someone texting her. “I’ll give it to you during lunch.”

“Thanks,” I murmured.

Sometimes, I wondered how Sloane and I were so close. I think it was just because we’d known each other for so long, because if we’d met now, I doubt she would even spare me a glance. Whenever I said to her that, she always disagreed, but I knew it was true. In kindergarten, it was easier to become friends. You would just get sat next to each other at a table and have to share crayons, and,boom, you love each other. In high school, the social ladder forbade that. I was a dorky, awkward bookworm who could barely hold up a conversation, and Sloane was a suave, cool cheerleader who everyone gravitated towards. If we hadn’t come into high school attached at the hip, there was no way we ever would have become friends.

“Okay, class,” Mrs. Kavinsky said. She glanced at the time. There were still fifteen minutes of the class left, and while I was hopeful she would just let us go to lunch early, I wasn’t holding my breath. She seemed to be strangely against letting us out early. “That’s the end of this lesson. We still have some time, so discuss the last book you read with your desk partner.”

“Why does she talk so fast just to finish the lesson early?” Sloane muttered as she put her note pages in her binder. I just hummed in agreement as I unlocked my phone. I wanted to see what wasgoing on in this group chat. Why were they texting so much during class?

“Mrs. Kavinsky will confiscate that if she sees you,” Sloane said.

“I’ll just tell her I’m looking at my Goodreads to remember the last book I read,” I said absentmindedly. Mrs. Kavinsky wasn’t that strict on cell phone use as long as you had a somewhat convincing excuse.

I opened the messaging app, which told me I had 20+ new notifications.

Group name:I promise this isn’t a group chat, Dad

Members:Ni-Ni, Bay, Sharky, Tis Moi Luca, Zesty

9:02 A.M.

Tis Moi, Luca

Guys

9:17 A.M.

Tis Moi, Luca

Guys

9:45 A.M.

Tis Moi, Luca

Guys

10:06 A.M.

Tis Moi, Luca

Guys

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