Chapter 2

My teachers call me a “model student” and my parents tell all of their friends that I am their “perfect daughter” who “never even thinks about breaking the rules.” Of course, they are both wrong. I know so many other kids who take school more seriously than I do. I try my best and I get good grades, of course, but I could never spend my entire Spring Break collecting and sorting dryer lint samples for an extra credit science project, like Frank Hart did last year. He didn’t even need the extra credit, because he already had the highest grade in class. I personally don’t see the point in doing extra work just for the sake of extra work, and I certainly don’t feel like a “model” anything!

I don’t know why my parents keep calling me “perfect.” Just wishful thinking, I guess. I mean, I make tons of mistakes! If there is a way to make a complete fool of yourself in any given situation, trust me, I am the one who will discover it. Luckily, Jarod is usually there to help me up when I fall or to distract everyone with a funny story when I humiliate myself. I really don’t know how I would survive without him!

As for the rest, it’s all just a big misunderstanding I guess. Of course I think about breaking the rules. Doesn’t everybody at least think about it? Sometimes, I wish that I could just throw caution to the wind and go have a wild night of fun and frivolity. I would love to let loose and go crazy every now and then. I’m certain that it would be less lonely. Maybe I would even be able to catch Shane’s attention.

Every weekend, all of my friends get together at someone’s house for a big party. Sometimes, I want to go too, but I don’t. Ever. I know my parents would never approve. They would never get over it if their “perfect” child got caught at a kegger! Besides, I don’t really think that I would be comfortable anyway. I don’t drink. I promised my parents that I wouldn’t ever even try it. Actually, I don’t really want to.

I guess I’m too afraid that I might do something that I would regret if I ever got drunk. I’ve heard all of the stories that my friends tell about these parties. It sounds to me like people do really stupid things when they’re drinking. Like the time that Alice got totally wasted at a bonfire and thought that her clothes had caught fire. She started stripping right in front of everyone, trying to save herself from the imaginary flames!

I don’t think that I am willing to take that risk. It’s hard enough to control myself when I’m sober! I shudder to think of what I might do if I got drunk. If I went to one of the parties, I would be the only one who wasn’t drinking. It would be too weird, so I just don’t go. Still, I sometimes feel like maybe I am missing out on a major part of the teenage experience.

Every Monday, I have to sit and listen to everyone talking about how great the party was. I get to hear accounts of how much fun they had, and sometimes it really does sound like a lot of fun. I mean, I wouldn’t want to wind up like Alice or anything, but I hate feeling like everyone around me shares a secret that I will never be a part of.

Even while I’m wishing that I had been a part of it all, every week I have to make up excuses for why I wasn’t at the party. And sometimes I wonder if the promise that I made about drinking is really worth the agony of sitting at home by myself every Saturday night.

Actually, a few weeks ago, I decided that I would go along to the weekend bash. I told Melissa that I would be her designated driver. She is usually the one who gets stuck being the designated driver for everyone else because she really can’t hold her liquor well. She gets drunk on just a sip or two of beer, and according to all of the stories, she gets pretty wild. So she doesn’t drink very often.

But Melissa had been having a really rough week, and she felt like she needed to unwind. She asked me to drive for her, and I said that I would. I mean, it was pretty clear that she would be drinking no matter what I said, and I didn’t want her to get behind the wheel if she was drunk! Besides, I had a feeling that she was asking me to be more than her designated driver. Melissa was looking for a chaperone.

Nick heard my conversation with Melissa, and he caught up to me in the hall after class. I was confused by the look of panic in his eyes as he grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the side of the hall, out of the rush of students hurrying to the next class. He didn’t stop walking, but his pace slowed considerably as he spoke.

“Laina, you know that the party is at my house this Saturday night, right?” The strained tone in Nick’s voice matched the panic in his eyes. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I could tell that he was upset about something.

“Yeah,” I slowed my pace to match Nick’s stride, trying to keep my tone light. I didn’t know what was wrong, and I didn’t want to make it worse, whatever it was. “So, I guess that means I need your address. Or does Melissa already have it?”

Nick sped up a bit and looked past me down the hall, avoiding my eyes as he spoke. “Well, she does have my address, but… umm… Laina, that’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you.” He cleared his throat and coughed, turning his head to study my face. “Really, Laina, I would prefer it if you didn’t come to my party this weekend.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him. He kept walking, and I had to grab his arm to keep him from rushing off down the hall. “What?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Nick, I thought that we were friends.”

He smiled, his features relaxing in genuine amusement. “Laina, of course we’re friends. You are the nicest girl I know. That’s why I don’t want you to come.”

He must have seen the confusion in my eyes, because he rushed to explain himself further. “This isn’t your kind of party. You would not be comfortable, and you really wouldn’t approve. I don’t want you to hate me, so I would prefer it if you weren’t there to see me at my worst.”

Nick smiled, sheepishly. “Please, as a personal favor to me, stay home this weekend. I’ll keep an eye on Melissa and make sure that she doesn’t drive or do anything stupid. I will see you on Monday.” He squeezed my hand and scurried off down the hall without waiting for a reply.

I thought about going anyway, but I guess Nick got to Melissa next. She found me at lunch and told me that she had reconsidered and would be able to relax much easier if I didn’t go to the party with her. Instead, she had asked her cousin, Cheryl, to keep her in line. Cheryl doesn’t drink anymore, not since she had that pregnancy scare last year, and I knew that she would make sure that Melissa didn’t do anything stupid.

I didn’t try to crash Nick’s party. I sat home alone once again on Saturday night, grateful at least that the fog crept in to keep me company. At least I didn’t have to be lonely when I could escape into my magical kingdom.

Still, I have to admit that this good-girl reputation is not much fun. It certainly makes for an empty social calendar. Sometimes, I wish that I could be more wild and carefree, like my little sister, Andrea. She is always the first one invited to the biggest parties. I’m not exactly sure if she drinks, because we never talk about that, but I suspect that she does it at least sometimes. She doesn’t make all of the other kids uncomfortable!

Andi really doesn’t care what our parents think, as long as she doesn’t get caught and punished for breaking the rules. She is really good at not getting caught. Well, usually. But she certainly breaks the rules often enough! Maybe that’s why Mom and Dad worry about her more than they worry about me.

I’m not sure if that’s such a bad thing. I mean, I like the fact that my parents can trust me. But still, sometimes I wonder which of the Andersen sisters is really the smart one. Andrea would never be officially invited not to come to the party! Sometimes, I think that I should just do something really crazy to show everyone that I really do know how to have fun. Just once, I would like to be the life of the party, the one that everyone wants to hang out with.

But my parents would probably die from embarrassment and disappointment if I ever dared to try anything. Not that I would, really. Even without the threat of disappointing Mom and Dad, I have no desire to drink. I mean, beer stinks! I asked Melissa why anyone would want to drink something that smells so foul, and she said that it’s an acquired taste. But who would want to actually acquire a taste for it?

I could go to the parties as the designated driver, like I almost did with Melissa, and then I would have a ready excuse for staying sober without being left out. For anyone else, that would probably work out just fine. But not me. Apparently, everyone at school expects me to be just as “perfect” as Mom and Dad always say that I am. With those high expectations, who would dare take any risks?