A Pretty Little Parody [PLL]

15. Deeper Down The Rabbit Hole

A few days later, I sat with my friends on the curb in front of Pinkberry, which had just opened a few blocks away from school. It was totally the shit at Rosebush Day and every other private school in the area, so we avoided the indoors, which were filled with kids from our rival schools, like HIV.

“And then, when I looked out my window, one of the pervy workers was staring at me,” I said in a dramatic voice. “And she wasn’t even the attractive one!”

My friends gasped on cue. I was telling them about the construction workers who’d come to dig a hole for the pool that morning. “And then she actually whistled! I mean, she was as gross as Moby Cockcutoff used to be and still is--no offense, Mobes--and maybe even grosser! I felt icky all over. What if they took pictures of me?”

All right, maybe I was laying it on a little thick--the workers hadn’t even shown up for work today-- but I hadn’t gotten the proper attention I needed from my friends in the past few weeks and I had to make up for it now. I could practically feel Moby rolling his eyes next to me and I felt a stab of annoyance. Since when was it okay for someone to roll their eyes at Sasha Peterson?

Scott dropped his spoon onto the street and watched as the remaining fro-yo melted in the sun. “You should’ve closed your curtains if you didn’t want them to see you.”

“Why does it matter?” Evan jumped in. “That’s illgeal! They can’t do that. Tell your parents, Sasha.” He took my hand and squeezed it.

I had to keep myself from smiling. It was about time someone knew how serious the (fake) situation was! Good old Evan. I was so glad I’d made up with him. “It’s okay,” I said benevolently. “I can handle it on my own.”

“Seriously, though,” he said, leaning a head on my shoulder. “That’s sexual harassment. Want me to report them for you?”

“Nah,” I said. “They’re leaving soon, anyways. Their work is almost done.” I shrugged Evan off of me and took my spoon out of my cup. “Okay, everyone, switch,” I said, “but keep your spoons. I don’t want to swap spit with any of you.”

After we’d switched, I shoved a huge spoonful of Moby’s raspberry-flavored sherbet into my mouth, feeling that I was finally getting back in control. I’d received fifteen calls and voicemails from Ivana earlier promising that she’d do the deed with Scott at the soonest possible date (“I haven’t kissed a boy in days!”), but also wanting to know when she could kiss me. I hoped that she’d forget in time, especially because of A. Something told me he’d be jealous if he found out. And I definitely didn’t want him to be mad at me--I was still basking in the glow of our amazing date. I kinda wanted to tell my friends about it, but I also wanted to keep him to myself for a little longer.

Screw that. I decided I’d bring up the subject now. “So, girls,” I said sweetly, “I think we should all find amazing summer crushes and turn those crushes into GFs.” I cast a long glance at Evan. “Or BFs.”

“Very funny,” he said with a nervous laugh.

Henry, on the other hand, looked thrilled. “I’m in! I claim Sara!”

“Great!” I grinned, but then turned to Evan and pouted. Poor Ev; he looked heartbroken. It probably wasn’t easy, sitting there and watching the one you loved gush about someone else they loved that wasn’t you. Evan pouted back.

“What about you, Scott? Got anyone you’re into?” I grinned toothily. I wasn’t sure exactly when Ivana was going to make her move, but I hoped that it would be soon.

Scott stiffened and gave me a desperate look. “Uh, no one,” he said unconvincingly.

“All right then, Scott.” I smirked. “You keep telling yourself that and maybe it’ll become true.”