“No one really talks to me,” I admitted. “I don’t have any friends either.”
“Well, at least there’s hope for your friendless life.” She glanced down the street. “God, I need a cigarette.”
“You smoke?” I gasped before I could help myself.
“Not anymore. I quit last year. The teeth bleaching was getting too expensive. You know.”
“It’s so bad for you,” I said. “The smoking, I mean, not the teeth bleaching.”
“Well, yeah, that too. Look, here’s the deal. I’m just going to tell you because clearly someone has to, and it might as well be me.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, as serious as I had ever seen her. “Last year, I slept with this girl Julia’s boyfriend, and it really upset her because it was true love, et cetera, and I screwed it all up for her. Literally and figuratively. And for some reason, everyone else has taken her side.”
“For some reason?” I repeated. “Roux, that’s kind of a big deal.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, it was … I didn’t mean to, let’s just say that.”
“So everyone just stopped talking to you?”
She was looking guiltier by the minute. “Well, I had kind of not really been nice to a lot of people. Like, ever. At all. And it’s a small school and karma’s a bitch, as they say.”
“Were you a Mean Girl?” I asked. “I saw the movie.”
Roux paused for a long time before finally saying, “Yes. I was a bitch to people. I talked about girls, made up rumors, all of that. Ever since fifth grade.”
“So now you’re persona non grata,” I said. “Wow. Social justice, like, never happens. I’m sorry!” I told her when she frowned and started to walk away. “I’m really sorry, it just slipped out.”
“Yes, please, enjoy my karmic retribution.” Roux didn’t even turn around as she walked away. “Forget I said anything. Good luck with your party.” She disappeared up the street and around the corner, lost in the midafternoon crowd.
Fifteen minutes later, as I was trudging toward Gramercy Park to think, my civilian phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Hi?”
“It’s Roux. Wow, answer your phone much?”
“Oh, hi!” I said. I hadn’t had a friend call me on the phone since, well, ever, so this was kind of a big deal for me. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to the caller ID.”
“Yes, I can tell. Look … I’m sorry for being all awkward and walking away. I don’t really talk to anyone about what happened … so, yeah. Sorry. Sometimes I’m weird.”
I grinned. “S’okay. Sometimes I’m weird, too.”
“I know.” I could tell she was smiling when she said it, though. “Are you still at school?”
“No, I’m just heading home,” I said as I kept walking farther away from home. “And I’m sorry, too. That was a really rude thing to say. True, but rude.”
“Fair enough. Apology given and accepted. Now do you still want a party?”
“Of course.” I ran my hand along the side of the grate along Gramercy Park South, my fingers making thudthudthud sounds along the iron bars. “Are you going to bite the bullet and throw one?”
“No. But I heard that Jesse Oliver is.”
I came to a screeching halt. “Are you serious? How do you know?”
“I heard this girl talking about it after I walked away. She’s a senior, she knows things. We used to be fr—anyway, he’s having a Halloween party in two weeks. You’re welcome.”
I couldn’t stop the stupid grin that was crawling up the sides of my face. “This couldn’t be more perfect!” I squealed. “Is he having it at his house? When is it?”
“Yes, and Halloween night.”
I gleefully punched the air, attracting absolutely no interest from any of the other pedestrians. “This is so perfect!” I told Roux, but she had no idea how perfect it was. Make nicey-nice with Jesse Oliver? Check! Get into his house so I can scope out his father’s office and see what his safe situation was? Check, check! Foil Dad Oliver’s plan, save the world, and be promoted to head spy of all time? CHECK, CHECK, AND CHECK!
“Are you there?” Roux’s voice crackled over the phone. “Maggie? I hope you didn’t get hit by a bus.”
“I’m here. No bus casualties.” I straightened my coat and tried to brush my hair out of my face. “I’m cool. I’m just so happy!”
“Have you never been to a party before?”
“Um, you mean, like, ever?”
“I mean as a teenager. Oh no,” she moaned when I hesitated, “you haven’t.”
“I’m a really fast learner!” I protested. “Just come with me.”
“Uh-oh, you’re breaking up!” she said, even though the reception was crystal clear. “What terrible timing! Don’t you just hate the cell phone area near Central Park? Bye!”
I just smiled to myself and tucked my phone back in my pocket. Getting Roux to the party would be a piece of cake.
Did I say a piece of cake? I’d like to amend that statement. It was like an ant trying to haul a boulder up a hill. Twice. That’s what it was like.
I begged, cajoled, and pleaded with her for a full week, but she refused to attend. “There’s no way I’m dressing up as a social outcast for Halloween,” was her answer every time I asked.