How to Meet Boys by Catherine Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

fine.”
    “You’re—you’re fine?”
    “Really. I was pulling your leg. Kind of,” I admitted. It felt good to see him freak out. Not that I’d be plotting revenge all summer, but seeing him so defensive and apologetic made things a teeny bit better.
    “Well, be serious. Is there anything I can do?” Jackson asked. “You need more paper towels?”
    “No, I’m good. I’m going to blink a lot for the next couple of hours, but I’ll be okay, I think,” I said.
    “People are going to wonder why you’re making faces at them. I can’t believe you just did that to me,” he said. “I thought I blinded you for life or something.”
    “I can’t believe you just sprayed glass cleaner in my face,” I said.
    All of a sudden it felt like we were kids again, having a typical argument. We both laughed, breaking some of the tension. Actually, I don’t even know how much tension he’d been feeling; but I’d felt pretty crushed by the weight of it.
    The phone rang, and Jackson headed to the counter to grab it, while I ducked into the bathroom to see if I could fix my makeup—not that I had any with me, because it was all in my bag in the office. I could just run and grab it, but I wasn’t thrilled about looking like a raccoon in public, a sad, tearful raccoon. I was about to dab my eyes with a tissue when
    there was a gentle knock on the door. “Um, telephone call. For you,” Jackson said awkwardly.
    “Who is it?’ I asked.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “A girl’s voice?”
    I quickly swiped the tissue across my face and tossed it into the trash can. When I walked back out, the store had suddenly filled with customers. “What’s going on? Bus tour?” I asked Jackson as I hurried to the phone, on the wall by the register. I’d have to get rid of whoever it was—probably Mikayla. I hoped her first day at work wasn’t going as badly as mine was.
    “Lucyloo! It’s Mom. You didn’t answer your phone, and I got worried so I called the store.”
    “Mom. The reason I didn’t answer is because I’m at work. At the store,” I explained. I’d just talked to her an hour or so ago when she called to check in, and told her that I was on my way.
    “Well, anyway, have you found a good dress yet? Because I’m standing here at this new shop on Fiftieth and France, and they have the cutest—”
    “Mom. Mom! I can’t talk right now. I’m at work,” I said. Again.
    My parents had been divorced for a little over two years, and now both were engaged and planning on getting remarried soon, maybe even during the summer. I couldn’t believe how quickly they’d moved on, especially considering they’d been married for fifteen years.
    I knew that if I’d stayed at home for the summer, I’d be buried in wedding plans, helping my mother with every detail and doing a thousand errands for her. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t drag me in as much as she could over the phone.
    My dad and his fiancée were planning a small wedding in the fall, and they’d asked me to do a reading for the ceremony—in addition to being a bridesmaid—so I’d been leafing through my giant poetry anthology from school, searching for a good passage. My dad’s wedding would be much more low-key than my mom’s. I was counting on it, in fact.
    “But this dress is perfect for you. I can just see it with a nice pair of earrings and then some sandals . . ”
    I suddenly caught my reflection in the small apple-shaped mirror on the wall beside the phone. I no longer had raccoon eyes. Now I looked like a Goth clown. I grabbed my purse from the office shelf, found a tube of lip balm, and started using it as a makeup remover. “Mom, please, I have to get back to work. I’ll call you later,” I said.
    “Oh, look at that necklace. I might need that. Anyway, let me describe this dress to you. It’s sort of a peach. Would you say it’s peach or more poppy?” she started asking someone at the store.
    “No—don’t!” I said. I had