A Pretty Little Parody [PLL]

19. Rosebush Day Gets A New Student

The next day at lunch, I sat with my friends happily devouring chocolate ice cream sandwiches from the cooler that had been personally delivered to the Klub. It was a really hot day, so a large umbrella had been erected in the middle of the table to give us all some shade (courtesy of Larson Finnegan, who had a huge crush on me and whose father owned the chain store that sold these umbrellas by the millions. Why he didn’t get one for his own table, I would never know). Scott was nowhere to be found. I had explained to Moby, Alec, Henry, and Evan what had happened, and they had all accepted it without asking too many questions. Alec, who had been Scott’s best friend, had looked torn for a minute, until he realized who he was dealing with.

“So I’m at White House|Black Market with my mom, right, and of course she’s trying on the ugliest pants I have ever seen in my life, and all of a sudden your mom bursts out of the dressing room in the same pants, but she looked amazing, like ehmagawd, I didn’t even know your mom shopped at WH|BM. She, like, totally put my fat mom to shame,” Evan was saying to me, but I was barely listening. Instead, my attention was turned to the skinny, emaciated-looking nerdy black kid that had just come out of the lunch line, looking confused. He wore a flamboyant pink button-down tucked into green seersucker shorts, which made him look like an awkward watermelon.

I pulled down my blue Ray-Bans and squinted. Was that... Tristan?

Tristan and I talked almost every night now, discussing possible Eli theories. Could it be possible that he’d hired a stalker to find out where I went to school? And then applied there himself? Maaybe. But it seemed a little far-fetched, even for him.

Just as I was thinking this Tristan turned his head and our eyes met. There was no mistaking it now. This was definitely him. As soon as he spotted me, he started making his way over to my table, which was hard because of all the other tables blocking his way. I quickly ducked my head. It was one thing to talk to Tristan outside of school, but I couldn’t get caught with him here. Moby was the only exception I was willing to give. My image really couldn’t take another hit--being seen with Tristan, in his Pepto-Bismol colored shirt, was going to be social suicide, especially because my polo dress was the exact same color.

Shit!

“Um, hello?” Evan patted my arm gently. “Did you even hear what I just said?”

“Of course,” I replied smoothly, hoping we were still on the same topic. “My mom’s gotten into classy female clothes lately instead of dressing like a teenybopper all the time. Now she’s all, like, mature and shit. It’s kinda annoying.” I took a big bite out of my ice cream sandwich and hoped I sounded convincing enough. Evan had a pretty good bullshit radar.

“Your mom was pretty hot when she dressed like a teenybopper,” Alec said, a faint smile on his face. It was the first since he’d heard that Scott had been kicked out of the clique. “Like, damn.”

“Yeah, even you looked like a five-year-old next to her,” Moby said, hiding a smile.

I stuck out my tongue at them. “STFU. Your moms are just envious.”

I heard a snicker behind Moby and looked up. There stood Tristan with a nervous expression on his face, balancing a tray on one hand and clutching his phone with the other. “Erm, hello, Sasha,” he said. “May I sit with you?”

My friends took one look at him and burst out laughing.

“Sit with us? You? Oh, that’s a good one. I haven’t had a laugh all day. Thanks, dude,” said Alec, wiping his eyes.

“Oh, God,” said Moby, who was doubled over.

Henry wiped his eye and kept silently laughing into his ice cream.