Side Effects May Vary

Celeste had always been the thickest girl in ballet. When we were in sixth grade, I heard Natalie telling my mom that she had to select a different costume for our entire class because Celeste didn’t fit into junior-size anymore and the costumes didn’t come in regular adult sizes. It’s not like she was fat. She just didn’t have a ballet body, and that was something she would never get by practicing. Height and curves, that was Celeste. She would do things like eat lettuce and lemon juice for six weeks and called it a “cleanse.” I wanted to feel bad for her, but she made it so damn hard. She might not have had the body of a dancer, but Celeste was good. When I was still in ballet classes, the solos always came down to me and her. Ballet was different for her than it was for me. Ballet was my life. For her, it was a vehicle. Celeste wanted nothing more than to be a triple threat—dancer, singer, actress—and it killed her that, when it came to dance, I’d always have her beat. She probably thought our competitive rivalry was over when I quit right before freshman year. But then I started dating Luke and it got even worse because Luke wasn’t something Celeste could audition for.

“Yeah, I just want you so bad,” I said, my voice monotone. “That’s why I have a boyfriend.”

She flinched for a second, but made an effort to act cool as the searched her gym bag for her T-shirt. “You really do look like shit.”

I touched my fingers to my cheeks, warm and clammy. “Luke doesn’t seem to mind. What are you doing without your one-girl minion anyway?” I asked, referring to her eternal sidekick Mindi, who was best known for her runner-up beauty pageant titles. The only thing worse than losing was almost winning.

Celeste ignored my question and pulled her T-shirt on over her head. She bit down on her lip for a second before she said, “I heard about your mom.”

I stood up. I wish I hadn’t, but it was like a reflex and it was the exact response she was looking for. “What are you talking about?”

She threw her bag into her locker. “That’s got to be hard,” she said, “catching your mom with some other guy.”

Luke. Oh my God. I didn’t think he’d actually seen anything. I ground my teeth as panic, betrayal, and rage coursed through me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Those batshit cleanses must be going to your head.”

Her lip twitched and she took three steps toward me. We stood nose to nose, a few inches apart. “Really? No idea? I can’t even imagine. Skipping school to lose your V-card to your boyfriend only to find that your mom’s getting more action than you ever will.” Her lips twisted into a pout and she shrugged. “Rough stuff.”

I hadn’t told a single person—not even my dad—about what I’d learned that day. Luke must have seen her. Why would he have told Celeste? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of me asking. “Fuck you, Celeste.”

“No,” she said, “your boyfriend’s got that pretty much covered.” She turned and walked off toward the gym.

I sat. Not on the bench, but right there on the floor. Her words hit me like a gunshot, so quick I hadn’t noticed it, until the blood had pooled around the wound. It would have been easy to call her a liar, but I didn’t see any other way she could have known.

Maybe Celeste was lashing out. Maybe Luke had just told her for the umpteenth time that he was going to break up with me for her. Maybe I’d sent her over the edge or maybe she hated me that much. I wouldn’t ever know, but it was in that moment that she and I went from frenemies to mortal enemies. I could believe that Luke was fooling around with other girls. The doubt had already been there. But he was cheating on me with her. Her, of all people. And on top of that, he had shared a secret that wasn’t even his to share. I wanted to destroy them both, but all I felt was powerless and foolish. A burning sensation spread across my chest as I began to cry.

You start high school and it feels new and shiny, but what no one tells you is that the sophomores, juniors, and seniors all have these tricks and games they’ve been playing for a while now. That’s the thing they don’t tell you at freshman orientation. And everyone is totally aware of this stuff except for the doe-eyed freshmen. I should have known better than to date Luke. Laurel had warned me, and I should have believed her.

It hurt to know the truth. Not because I loved Luke, but because I was mad at myself for not knowing any better. I had to break up with him and it had to be public. I was going to send a message.

The next morning, he found me at my locker again.

“I’m bored,” I announced, my voice carefully controlled.

“You want to cut out of here early today? Maybe go do something not so boring?” asked Luke, and his eyebrows rose with expectation.