That’s what I said, even though I hadn’t officially dumped him.

So that’s why you’re agitated. I get it now.

Before I could tell him I was agitated because he’d done something to make Heather disappear before my eyes, I heard the snapping sound of branches being broken as another burnout approached. Luckily, it wasn’t Dean. Bruce was wearing a brand-new black leather coat; his mom had already sewn his old ZoSo suede patch on the back. Dean was always complaining about how spoiled Bruce was, how his mom bought him a subscription to Playboy, as if that was the ultimate gift.

Whoa, Bruce said when he saw me. Sexy mama!

Bruce was always talking that way. He watched too much TV.

I really didn’t want him to think I was sexy. God knows what the burnouts would do if they found me sexy.

Sexy mama, Bruce said, bounding over, draping his arm around me. I heard you stabbed Mackie in the pep rally. Fucking hilarious, man! I wish I had that on tape!

I didn’t exactly stab him. I just held the blade to his face.

Didn’t know you had it in you, Sara. I’m impressed.

He ran over to Bryce, grabbed the joint, and the two of them tussled in the dirt.

Come on, Sara, Bryce said. Sit up here with us and get high.

I wanted to hate those guys, and it was pretty difficult, because all of a sudden they were being so nice to me.

I took the joint and sucked the smoke down, holding it in my throat until I could no longer breathe. I choked and coughed, and they didn’t even laugh. Really, I wondered, why are they being so nice to me?

Fucking pep rally homo jock shit, Bryce said. Let’s just skip out. Sara, you wanna come back to my place? Drink some shit mix.

Shit mix. That’s what they called the stuff we drank after Bryce’s dad grounded him for drinking from his bottles of alcohol. We’d started taking a little bit from each bottle and mixing all the liquor together. The burnouts could be surprisingly smart when it came to the eternal quest for booze.

No, I gotta go meet someone, I said. And I did. Besides, I knew if I didn’t get out of the bushes soon, I’d end up back at Bryce’s house, listening to Led Zeppelin. Next thing you know, I’d have drifted back into being the stoner girlfriend.

I stood up, brushing dirt off the back of my fur coat.

Hey, Bryce said, almost desperately, Dean got you a job. Did you hear about that?

No, I hadn’t heard about that.