Oh my God. There’s Lilly.
She’s in black from head to toe. (Well, so am I, actually. Only somehow I don’t think I look like a trained assassin, the way she does.)
She’s heading for the ladies’ room.
Okay, I think this might constitute stalking. But I’m going in after her. She dated J.P. for six months.
If anyone will know if my boyfriend’s a great big phony, she will. Whether or not she’ll even speak to me is another story.
But Dr. Knutz did say, when I figured out what the right thing to do was, I’d do it.
I really hope this is it….
Saturday, May 6, 11 p.m., the Waldorf-Astoria,
ladies’ room
Okay. I’m shaking. I have to stay in here until my knees stop trembling long enough for me to stand up again. For now I’m just going to sit here on this little velvet settee and try to write this down so it makes some kind of sense—
In any case…
I guess I finally know why Lilly was so mad at me for so long.
I walked into the bathroom and there she was putting bright red lipstick on in the mirror.
It looked exactly like blood.
She glanced at my reflection and sort of raised her eyebrows.
But I wasn’t going to back off, even though my heart was pounding. Grant me the courage to change the things I can.
I checked to make sure we were the only people in the room. We were. And then I went, to her reflection, before I could lose my nerve, “Is J.P. a total fake, or what?”
She very calmly put the lid back on her lipstick and slipped it into her evening clutch. Then she said with an expression of total disgust, turning around to look me in the eye, “Took you long enough.”
I won’t say it was like she plunged a knife into my chest, or anything dramatic like that. Because the part of me that used to think I loved J.P. had stopped thinking that as soon as I spilled the hot chocolate on Michael last week, and I realized that whole loving J.P. thing had just been wishful thinking. I mean, I guess I could have trained myself to fall in love with J.P. eventually, if Michael Moscovitz had never come back from Japan and then been so nice to me and made me realize I’d never fallen out of love with him.
But that will never happen now.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked Lilly. I wasn’t mad, really. Too much time had passed—and water gone under the bridge—for me to be mad. I was just curious, more than anything.
“Oh, what,” Lilly said, letting out a sarcastic laugh, “you’re the one who started going out with him the day he dumped me, practically—dumped me for you, by the way.”
“He did not dump you for me,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not how it happened.”
“I beg your pardon,” Lilly said. “I was there, you were not. I think I would know. J.P. most assuredly dumped me because, as he said, and I quote, he was hopelessly in love with you. I didn’t mention that part, did I, the day I told you about our breakup?”
I stared at her, feeling color creep up my face. “No—”
“Well, that’s what he told me. That he was dumping me like a hot potato the minute it looked like things were over with you and Michael because now he, quote, had a chance with you, unquote. But I told him there was no way in hell my best friend would ever give him the time of day, because you would never do something like go out with the guy who’d broken my heart.” Her look of disgust deepened. “Oh, but…I guess I was wrong about that, wasn’t I?”
I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe it. J.P.? J.P. had told Lilly he loved me…before he and I had even started going out? J.P. had dumped Lilly because I’d become available?
That was worse—way worse—than calling the paps on me, and telling them where I’d be having dinner.
Or getting a publisher to agree to print my book without even having read it.
“Don’t try to deny it, Mia,” Lilly went on, her upper lip curling. “Not five minutes after I told you about our breakup—our next class period, practically—I saw you two kissing.”
“That was a mistake!” I cried. “He turned his head at the last minute!” On purpose, I knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
But then, I shouldn’t have been flinging my arms around boys in the hallway, anyway.
“Oh, and it was a mistake that you two went out on a date the same night my brother left for Japan?” she asked, with a sneer.
“It wasn’t a date,” I said. “We went as friends.”
“That’s not how the press saw it,” Lilly said, shaking her head.
“The press?” I inhaled, a single, horrified breath as the truth finally sunk in…after twenty-one long months. “Oh, God. He called them that night. The night we went to see Beauty and the Beast. That’s why the paparazzi showed up. J.P. called them himself.”
“Oh, NOW you finally realize it.” Lilly shook her head. Now that the blindfold had been lifted from my eyes at last, she’d stopped looking so disgusted. “He played us both. He only went out with me because it was a way to be closer to you…although I’m not entirely sure what sleeping with me had to do with you—”
“Oh my God!” That’s when all the bones in my body turned into jelly and I had to sit down before I fell down. I collapsed onto one of the velvet couches the Waldorf-Astoria hotel staff had helpfully supplied for this purpose, and sunk my head into my hands.