Page 18 of Chasing Chase London: Part 8-Valentines Day
“No,” she says, sighing and sitting up. “But I asked what he was doing, and he said he ‘hanging out with this girl.’ Just like that, totally casual, like he was telling one of his guy friends.”
“I thought this was just to get back at him.”
“It was! But I can’t get back at him if he doesn’t even care. Plus, it’s different now.”
“And you didn’t haveanyidea that he was seeing someone else?”
“No. We hang out or video chat every night. He never said anything. I wouldn’t be sleeping with him if I knew he was seeing someone else.”
“Oh, sothat’swhy it’s different,” I say. “I thought you wouldn’t sleep with him because he was with Elaine or whatever. The whole used sock thing.”
“Used underwear. And I already slept with him after her, so it doesn’t count.” She picks up her sandwich and nibbles at the crust. “It’s not like I think he’s never hooked up with anyone but me. I just don’t want to think about it, so it’s better if I don’t know who he’s been with. As long as it’s not one of my friends, because then Iwillthink about it.”
Her theory reminds me of what Oliver said, except he doesn’t want a girl who’s been with anyone, not just a friend.
“Maybe he’s not sleeping with the other girl,” I offer.
Or maybe I’m grasping at straws.
She grabs my arm, almost knocking my soda out of my hand. “I need you to find out who it is.”
I wince. “That’s more your area of expertise.”
The last thing I want to do is get caught in the middle of more drama. Plus, I’ve seen Colin talking to so many girls it’s impossible to know which one he’s seeing, and I can’t tell Daria that without breaking her heart.
“That’s okay, I’ll coach you,” she says, getting more excited as she devises a new scheme. “You can stalk him for me.”
“I don’t have a car,” I point out.
“We’ll figure out something,” she says, getting up and dusting off her jeans as the bell rings. “You can go over to borrow something from Oliver.”
“Please don’t make me talk to Oliver.”
“Why?” she asks, looking at me funny.
“Not a fan,” I say. “And the feeling is mutual.”
“You’ll have to give me the tea on that later,” she says. “For now, let’s come up with a reason for you to go by their house on Friday.”
“That does not involve Oliver,” I remind her.
Just then I turn and see him sitting on the bottom of the bleachers lacing up his shoes. He doesn’t look up as we pass, but there’s no way he didn’t hear me.
Great. Just what I need. One more reason for him to think I’m a total bitch.
*
“So, I’ve come up with a better plan,” Daria says, twirling around, her sleek hair swishing around her shoulders like one of those models in a shampoo ad. She seems to have forgotten her outrage in her newfound excitement at her own cleverness. I can always count on Daria to bounce back, as enthusiastic as ever to be hatching a plan.
“Don’t you want to hear it?” she asks, then rushes on without waiting for an answer. “Of course you do. Anyway, Isabel is practically knocking herself out trying to get in good with our crowd, which isn’t hard considering who her brothers are. She’s practically born to be in it. But she’s a freshman so, you know. She’s not very mature.”
“Are we mature?” I tease.
She waves a dismissive hand. “Anyway, the point is, she loves and worships me, and she’d do anything for me. So I’m going to enlist her to spy. I mean, she lives there, so she’ll know what girl he’s bringing home.”
“And then what?”
“And then I’ll know what little skank would dare to cross me when I’m on a mission, and she’ll be toast. Ta da!” She does a little skip and a flourish, then breezes off down the hall.
