Chapter 3

As I drove, I called myself every synonym I knew for stupid. I couldn't imagine what had possessed me to suggest Zahara stay with me. Well, actually, I could as I listened to her chatter happily about how thrilled she was to not have to see John now.

"You wouldn't believe how annoying he was getting at the end there. I know I say this every time, but I don't think we're ever going to get back together. He was always talking about how needy I was, and saying that I should drive, and I was just, like, really? Your car is permanently in the shop. You take the bus as often as I do, jackass! And besides, when his car wasn't working, he shouldn't have let me walk home at four and five and the morning alone. I know, I'll be fine, but shouldn't my boyfriend be trying to protect me? Jesus, John sucks. You know why we broke up this time? He asked me to borrow 100 dollars to fix his car. I know his a*s will never pay me back from the last time, and when I brought that up, he was all, I can't deal with this right now. Like, really? He has so much more going on than me? I not only go to school and work third shift, I'm also always helping my brother out with their baby. You know that, Jason! And he would always act like he was too good for me. I'm not trying to be egotistical here, but I'm pretty cute. I mean, I have a pretty decent body, I'm fairly average sized but with an above average chest, and I have clear skin that tans nicely, and I'm not super ugly. And I know I have nice hair. Do you know how jealous people are of my hair? I mean, it seems dark brown, but when it's in the sun, it turns ligher with red highlights, and I'm not saying I'm the best thing ever, but I'm pretty cute. And that's the whole key, knowing my strengths and playing them. John can't do that worth a s**t! He's definitely overweight, but he's too self-conscious to work out. It's not even that he's that big, but how horribly uncomfortable he is with his weight. Confidence is sexy, whining is not. Oh, s**t, I'm not whining, am, I Jason?"

I made a noise of dissent, but didn't comment. If I were to talk, I would glance at her, and if I looked at her, I wouldn't be able to stop looking and we'd get into an accident. I just let her keep ranting until I pulled up in front of my house.

"God, I forgot how beautiful your place is!" Zahara exclaimed as we walked over the stone path to the elaborately cedar sided mansion. "I don't know if I remembered to pack a swimsuit!"

I laughed as I opened the door and we stepped into the lobby. "I'm sure we have something or another you can use here. Or you could just go in your underwear."

"Magdalena would not approve of that, I'm sure. Where is she, anyway? Is she still here?" asked Zahara, glancing at the doorways around us.

Just then, Magdalena appeared from the very ornate dining room. "Hello again, Sarah," Magdalena said.

"This is Zahara, not Sarah," I said.

Magdalena peered at Zahara and said, "Are you two courting now?"

Zahara smiled and said, "No, I feel like I should concentrate on my studies right now. Dating would take up too much time."

"Good girl, so ladylike. I don't know why my great grandchildren are not more like you," Magdalena rumbled, a few white strands from her bun caught in the corner of her dry and wrinkled lips.

I fought back nausea and said, "Magdalena, Zahara needs to stay here a few days, okay? I figured we had enough guest bedrooms, right?"

Magdalena blinked at me through her very thick spectacles and said, "Your parents said not to have anyone over. You also weren't supposed to leave, you know."

I nodded, and said, "I know, but Zahara's brother and sister in law and nephew are out of town, and they don't live in a good neighborhood. I was worried about her all alone."

"Oh, you're right, we can't let those hooligans hurt a pretty young thing like you. So smart, too." Magdalena agreed. She waddled off towards the kitchen.

Zahara and I held our breaths until she was out of earshot, then began giggling furiously as I escorted her to her favorite bedroom. She didn't know I knew it, but when we were in middle school, she would sneak into this one and pretend she was a Victorian lady. She would put her algebra and world history textbooks in the solid oak writing desk, and her hoodie in the matching wardrobe, then lie on the bed and just look at the room. It truly was a magnificent room, with red walls and ivory trim, and scarlet carpets and curtains. When the curtains were pushed back, she had the best view in the whole house of the lake. She gave me a questioning glance as we walked in, but didn't say anything as she put her bag down. She had no idea I'd found her old diary while poking through her room two years ago.

"Do you mind if I take a nap for a while? I didn't exactly get much sleep today," she said.

I laughed to myself, since that was the same excuse she would use way back when, and left her in peace. I finally checked my phone and saw 7 new text messages.

The first two messages were from Donny and said, "dude, bad move" and "unless u finly plan 2 tell her u like her, u shudnt have her there."

The next two were from Sarah and Tom, both meant for Zahara, since she didn't have a cell phone. Sarah's said, "Tell her I love her!" Tom's just read, "we r here for her."

Then, I had a text from John, asking, "do you think she'll take me back", then, less a minute later, "nvr mind, i didnt mean that i dont care what she does."

Finally, I had a message from my parents telling me to be careful while they were gone. I ignored them all and put my phone back in pocket, then went and laid down in my own room trying to not think of Zahara only a few rooms away.