What Happened to Goodbye(13)
Author: Sarah Dessen

I took a tentative bite of my burrito. By the time I’d opened my water, taken a sip, and braved another taste, I saw Riley was approaching the blonde at the table. I watched as she dd her backpack on the ground, then slid onto the bench beside her, leaning her head against the blonde’s shoulder. After a moment, her friend reached up, giving her a couple of pats on the back.

“Hi!”

I jumped, spilling some beans across my shirt, then looked up. A girl in a bright green sweater, khakis, and white sneakers, a matching green headband in her hair, was smiling down at me. “Hi,” I said, noticeably less enthusiastically.

“You’re new, right?” she asked.

“Um,” I said, glancing back at Riley and her friend. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Great!” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Deb. With the student hospitality committee? It’s my job to welcome you to Jackson and make sure you’re finding your way around okay.”

Hospitality committee? This was a first. “Wow,” I said. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” Deb reached down, brushing off the wall beside me with one hand, then sat down next to me, placing her purse—a large, quilted number, also green—beside her. “I was new last year,” she explained. “And this is such a big school, and so hard to navigate, I really felt there was a need for some kind of program to help people get comfortable here. So I started Jackson Ambassadors. Oh, wait, I forgot your welcome gift!”

“Oh,” I said, “you don’t have to—”

But already, she was unzipping her green bag and pulling out a small paper one, tied with a blue-and-yellow ribbon, from within it. There was a sticker on the front that said JACKSON TIGER SPIRIT! also blue and yellow. And shiny. She handed it to me, clearly proud, and I felt like I had no choice but to take it.

“In there,” she said, “you’ll find a pencil, a pen, and the schedules for all the winter sports. Oh, and a list of numbers you might need, like guidance and the main office and the library.”

“Wow,” I said again. Across the courtyard, Riley and her friend were now sharing a bag of pretzels, passing them back and forth.

“Plus,” Deb continued, “some great giveaways from local merchants. There’s a coupon for a free drink at Frazier Bakery, and if you buy any muffin at Jump Java, you can get another for half off!”

Sitting there, I realized that one of two things could happen from here. Either I would hate Deb, or we’d be best friends and Liz Sweet would end up just like her. “That’s really nice,” I said as she beamed at me, clearly proud. “I appreciate it.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she said. “I’m just trying to make people feel a little more at home than I did.”

“You had a tough time?”

For a moment, and only a moment, her smile became slightly less perky. “I guess so,” she said. Then she brightened. “But things are great now, seriously. I really like it here.”

“Well,” I said, “I’ve moved around a lot. So, hopefully it won’t be so bad.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be,” she said. “But if you have any problems, my card’s in there as well. Don’t hesitate to call or e-mail, okay? I mean that.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Deb.”

“Thank you!” She smiled at me, then put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, goodness, I’m so rude! I didn’t even get your name. Or did—”

“Mclean!”

I blinked, sure I hadn’t heard this right. But then it came again. Yes, someone was calling me. By my real name.

I turned my head. There, at the picnic table, was the blonde girl, now standing, her hands cupped over her mouth. Yelling. At me.

“Mclean!” she said, then waved. “Hey! We’re over here!”

“Oh,” Deb said, glancing at her, then back at me. “Well. Looks like you’ve already made some friends.”

I looked back at the table, where Riley was watching me as well, the bag of pretzels in one hand. “I guess so,” I said.

“Well,” Deb said, “maybe you don’t need the packet at all. But I just thought . . .”

“No,” I told her, suddenly feeling bad for some reason. “I’m glad to have it. Really.”

She smiled at me. “Good. It’s nice to meet you, Mclean.”

“You, too.”

She stood, then turned on one pert sneaker and started down the walkway, reaching up to adjust her headband as she went. I glanced at the blonde. Come on, she mouthed, waving at me again. So this was my moment, I thought, picking me again, although not exactly the way I’d expected. Still, I got to my feet, tossing my burrito in a nearby trash can, and headed across the courtyard to see what would happen next. I was almost there when I looked back in the direction Deb had gone, finding her a moment later by the bus parking lot. She was sitting under a tree, her green purse beside her, sipping a soda. Alone.

The blonde’s name was Heather. How she knew mine was not yet clear.

“I had to save you,” she explained as I approached their table. “That girl Deb is a spazzer freak. I considered it an act of charity to call you over here.”

I looked back at Deb, sitting under the tree. “She didn’t seem so bad.”

“Are you kidding? ” Heather said, incredulous. “She sat next to me in bio last year. Spent the entire semester trying to recruit me to her various groups, all of which she is the sole member of. It was like sharing a Bunsen burner with a cult member.”

“What’s in the bag?” Riley asked, nodding at the welcome packet, which I was still holding.

“A hospitality gift,” I said. “From the student ambassadors.”

“Ambassador,” Heather corrected me, adjusting her ample cleavage. “Hello? She’s the only one!”

I wasn’t sure what I was doing here, now that I’d been saved from Deb. Before I found out, though, there was one more issue to clear up.

“How did you know my name?” I asked Heather.

She’ireen checking her phone, and now looked up at me, squinting in the sunlight. “You told me at that party, before it got busted.”

“No,” I said. “I didn’t.”

She and Riley exchanged a look. Now I was acting like a cult member. Heather said, “Then I guess Dave must have mentioned it.”

“Dave? ”