Chapter Four: The Theory

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After school, we convened in the basement at Eunice's. I flopped onto a giant leather armchair. I was in serious need of some self-medication in the form of Twizzlers and a giant Diet Coke. Nicole stretched out on the couch opposite and propped her feet on the arm.

"Ah," she said, grabbing a bag of M&M's and putting it on her chest. "I love your basement, Eunice."

"Me too," I agreed, looking around the big, airy space, complete with plasma TV and built-in sound system.

Eunice's dad owned the biggest chain of lighting stores in the state, so they were loaded.

"Any more stalking at school?" Eunice asked, sitting down cross-legged on the thick gray carpet and sucking up some Diet Coke through a Twizzler.

I curled up in the soft leather cushions. "Did Nicole tell you about gym?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Kevin trying to save you and Ron making out with Leah-----"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, cutting her off. "I know what happened. I was there, remember? What I can't figure out is why I'm getting all of this attention now, when I really, really don't feel like it."

"Well, I've got it figured out." Nicole lined up a row of green M&M's on the cushion in front of her."It's so obvious, I can't believe we didn't think of it earlier."


"Are you going to let us in on a brilliant explanation, or what?" Eunice asked.

Nicole ate the first M&M. "Val's able." She put another M&M in her mouth and sucked on it noisily.

"That's it?" I asked. "I already knew that."

Nicole rearranged the M&M's into a circle. "No, there's more. Think about it: This is the first time you've been sigle for more than twenty-four hours since eighth grade. These guys are just trying to seize their chance with you and while they still can."

I opened my mouth to disagree, but then closed it.

Could that be true? I mentally shuffled a series of past boyfriends as if they were a deck of cards. Then I laid them out.

Nicole was right. I'd gone from boy to boy to boy with less than a week total of single life in the last four years.

"Wow . . . ," I said slowly. "You're right."

"Well, it's kind of nice having your pick, isn't it?" Eunice laughed. She cracked another Diet Coke.

I shook my head. "No, it's really annoying me! Isn't it enough that I have to watch Ron with her constantly? Now, just because I'm single, I have to fend off every available guy?"

Eunice rapidly chomped another Twizzler. She looked like she was thinking about something.

"Isn't that like your tenth Twizzler?" Nicole asked.

"Isn't that like your ten millionth M&M?" Eunice countered, shoving the last of the Twizzler into her mouth. "Do you want a lettuce sandwich with those, too?" She turned yo me.

"You need to escape, Val. Too bad you can't drop out for a while. If you had some time to hid out, I bet you could get over Ron and all the guys at school would forget you."

Nicole sat up. "That's it! Val runs away to Jamaica! She grows dreads and starts living on the beach. Yah, mon!" She laughed so hard a green M&M flew out of her mouth and bounced off the flat screen across the room. She got up to retrieve it.


"That's the problem," I said, slithering off the chair. I curled up in the fetal position on the carpet. "I want to get away but I can't. Obviously, I'm not going to drop out of school."


"Plus, you'll never be able to avoid going out, not as long as you're at Longbranch," Nicole tod me. "Look at your history. Duh."

"I need a break!" I insisted. "I don't want locker looking like the circus escaped. I think what I need is to just be alone for a while. Like this," I said, my voice muffled.

"Well, you can stop dreaming now," Eunice said. "You'd need to escape to another country if you want to get away from guys."

I heaved myself off the floor and grabbed my bag from the sofa. "I doubt my parents would let me to relocate to France, so I don't think that would work. I have to go. See you guys tomorrow."

I let myself out of Eunice's and thumped down the front steps. My feet carried me automatically through the wide, tree-lined streets and past the neat suburban houses. I barely felt the weight of my bag strap pressing on my shoulder as I turned Nicole's theory over in my mind. It did make sense----all the stuff in my locker, all the attention in gym class (little shorts aside), all the texts----but why were all these guys so obsessive? There were plenty of other single girls at school.

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