Page 54 of I Kissed Shara Wheeler
“Oop,” Chloe says, in Rory fashion. If it were up to her, Smith would never have known either of them set foot inside the Wheeler house.
“You told me you never hooked up with her.” It’s not an accusation; he sounds different than earlier, when he thought Ace might have been hooking up with Shara. He’s reviewing the facts, realizing he’s missing something.
“I didn’t,” Rory confirms.
“So how did you get in her room?”
There it is.
“It was—I was—” Rory starts, and then he visibly realizes that he needs an alibi he doesn’t have. He panics and points at Chloe. “She was there too!”
“Really, dude?” Chloe groans. She thought they had a no-snitching policy between them. “At least I used a key. You climbed through her window with a ladder.”
Smith’s eyes widen. “You did what?”
“Shara told me she was leaving her window unlocked!” Rory insists. “She obviously wanted me to use it, hence the note with my fucking name on it!”
“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Smith says, waving the card in Rory’s face. “You’re always in my shit! Every time I go to Shara’s house, there’s Rory in his window like a fucking Elf on a Shelf. You’re always just—just there.”
“I live there! I’m allowed to be at my house!”
“You screwed this whole thing up for me! It’s supposed to be me and Shara, and instead, it’s always me and Shara and you, and I know you hate me for dating her even though I knew you liked her, but—”
“That is not what my beef with you is.”
“What, am I supposed to act like I wasn’t there when we were thirteen and you told me Shara was the only pretty girl in school?” Smith says. “Like, do you think I’m dumb?”
“I think you act like a lot of shit from when we were thirteen never happened.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rory opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it. “Forget it. You know, if your relationship is ruined, that’s your problem, not mine. I’m only in Shara’s life as much as she wants me to be.”
“You don’t know shit about what Shara wants!”
“Neither do you, obviously!”
“Hey!” Chloe finally interrupts. “Chill!”
Smith and Rory stop, their faces inches apart. She was going to let them go at it—seems overdue, anyway—but she can’t take this anymore. Neither of them deserves the blame for Shara’s nuclear fallout.
“This is ridiculous,” she says. “What’s the common denominator here? Smith, Rory didn’t make Shara kiss you in front of him. Neither of us made her kiss us and skip town. Rory, that note literally says she wanted to make you jealous, because she knew you liked her and she liked the attention. I mean, come on! None of this is because of any of us. It’s Shara. Stop pretending she’s a saint! Read the notes! She’s playing both of you, and you’re letting her.”
She stands there under the bleachers, looking from Smith to Rory, waiting for the thing she’s been wanting this whole time: for someone to see Shara the way she’s always seen her. The bell to end sixth hour rings. None of them make a move to go to seventh.
“I don’t understand,” Smith says finally, sounding defeated. “Everything she’s done the past few weeks, everything she’s saying she did in these notes… it doesn’t sound like her. And I don’t understand why she did any of it, or why she’s telling me, or why she’s telling me like this. And I guess I’m starting to worry that I… I don’t know. Maybe Rory’s right. Maybe I don’t know her like I thought I did.”
It should feel like the round of applause on closing night, like after a fifth-grade birthday party when her moms proclaimed in the car that all the other parents wished their kids were doing as well in school as Chloe.
But Smith looks sad, and Rory looks annoyed and embarrassed, and it’s not as satisfying as it was supposed to be.
“My beef with you,” Rory says finally, to Smith, “is that you ditched me for the football guys, who you knew were total assholes to me.”
“I didn’t ditch you for the football guys,” Smith says, voice raw and earnest, “you ditched me because you didn’t like that I joined the team, even though I told you the whole reason my parents sent me to Willowgrove was to play football.”
“That is not what happened,” Rory grumbles.
“It’s how I remember it.”
