Page 42 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
What?Noah had afull rideto college? Noah’s expression is blank. He’s carefully transplanting the ground coverinto the garden bed like he’s intentionally avoiding my eyes.
“You got a scholarship? I thought you were staying here in September?”
“Yep!” Kennedy says, coming closer to us. “Jacobs here was one of the smartest kids at Cherrybridge High. And super talented, so he—”
“Shut up, Kennedy,” Noah grumbles, not even looking at her.
“His manners have never been great, though,” Kennedy adds.
I want to huff a laugh at that, but I’m still shocked. I mean, I know Noah is smart. I’ve pretty much spent every day with him for the last two weeks. But I thought we were friends. I told him about my postsecondary plans and asked him what his were. Why wouldn’t he talk about it with me?
I go back to planting. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe he had a good reason for not telling me about getting a scholarship. Or maybe we’re not as close as I thought.
“Hey, are you going to use those gloves?” Kennedy asks me, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I’m not wearing gloves because they’re way too big for me, so I shrug and toss the gloves at her, noticing the shirt she’s wearing. It’s from a street festival in Toronto that a friend of mine from school organized last summer. I have a similar one because I volunteered at it. Kennedy’s shirt has been altered, though. The sleeves are torn off, and the whole thing is much tighter on her.
“Hey, cool shirt,” I say. “You know, my friend organized that festival?” I don’t know why I’m bothering to compliment her. She’s probably going to growl at me.
But instead Kennedy’s eyes brighten. “Oh yeah? Cool! I got it from Rabbles last week. My mom took it in for me.”
She starts to walk away before I can ask her what Rabbles is, but Noah suddenly says, “You should tell Meera about Rabbles. She’s into thrift stores.”
“Oh! Rabbles is a thrift store?” I ask. “I’ve been wondering if there are any around here.”
Kennedy nods vigorously. “It’s the best! It’s a charity shop north of the river where all the rich people donate their crap.”
“Wow. I know a store in Toronto like that. I found a Coach purse for my mom there once.” Mom still uses that purse, even though she could buy a new one now.
“Toronto has the best vintage stores,” Kennedy says, coming back and plopping down next to me on the grass. “I take the bus into the city once a season to go to Kensington Market.”
“Yeah, Kensington’s great, but have you checked out the shops on Bloor West?” I ask.
We talk for a while about the best vintage and thrift stores in Toronto, and about our best finds. When there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, I notice Noah smiling while he’s planting. Maybe he’s happy that Kennedy and I are finally bonding. Which proves my point about him. Noah Jacobs is a complete sweetheart.
When we’re getting ready to leave, Kennedy lingers with a strange expression on her face. She looks uncomfortable and nervous. I’m about to ask if she’s okay when she loudly coughs to clear her throat and looks straight at me. In one breath she says, “Sorry about giving you a hard time before. And sorryabout your AirPods, too. It’s not your fault your mom married a douche.” She exhales, her expression relaxing. “Lainey says I havetrustissues.” I must look confused, because she explains. “I get counseling by Lainey at school. She says I assert dominance over strangers because I want to push them away before I get hurt. She also says I can’t complain about not having friends if I treat everyone like garbage.”
I try not to laugh at Kennedy’s earnestness. I wonder if Lainey and Kennedy talked about me recently. “No worries. Glad we got to talk.”
She looks nervous again. “Do you… I mean, do you want to go to Rabbles now? They usually put new stuff out on Fridays, so I was going to check it out. Noah, you and Ash come too? We can grab drinks downtown after?”
I glance at Noah, and he gives an encouraging nod. “I’ve found some killer band shirts there,” he says. “I’m game.”
“Okay. I have dinner plans later, but I can go shopping first,” I say.
Ash apparently has his mom’s car today, so he drives us all to the thrift store. It’s on a side street near that café I went to with Sadie and Liv on the day after I got to Cherrybridge.
The store is small—but jam-packed. Definitely some designer clothes in here. I’m not that hardcore a thrifter, but even I know that I could make a killing on designer resale sites if I bought this stuff and sold it. Kennedy is excited and keeps squealing at things. It’s so strange that this grinning, enthusiastic girl is the same person who Noah said hates everyone.
“OMG, this is a deal. You need to get this, Meera,” she says, holding up a dark-purple-and-black plaid skirt. It issupercool. Very Y2K. But it’s not my style. It’s too short and too…coolfor someone like me.
“Oh, I love it, but I couldn’t wear something like that,” I say. “It’s more your vibe than mine.”
She shakes her head. “I have one almost the same. And you’d look great in it! It matches your shoes!”
“If you love it, then why not wear it?” Noah asks me. I didn’t notice that he was with us in the ladies’ section.
I blink at him. Am I doing what Noah accused me of doing, not letting my true self shine because of my future goals? Idolike the skirt—a lot. And why can’t a future architect wear short skirts, anyway?
