Trouble Makes a Comeback - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Stephanie Tromly was born in Manila, grew up in Hong Kong, graduated from the University of Pennsylvania, and worked as a screenwriter in Los Angeles. She is the author of Trouble is a Friend of Mine and lives in Winnipeg with her husband and young son.

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I don’t believe in Happily Ever After. Nobody over the age of thirteen with an Internet connection has any business believing in that noise. But the kind of junior year I’m having is seriously challenging the life-saving cynicism I’ve cultivated for years.

Actually, to be precise, I’m having an epic second semester. My first semester was a series of fiascos, all courtesy of my friendship with Philip Digby. Though, honestly, I’m not even sure Digby ever considered me his friend. Accomplice, sure. But then he kissed me, which made us what? More than friends? Something other than friends? I hate semantics.

Normally, I wouldn’t have fallen for Digby’s stray-puppy-in-the-rain act in the first place. But I was new in town, I had no friends, and I was still reeling from my parents’ brutal divorce. And then I found out that Digby’s four-year-old sister, Sally, was abducted from her bed in the middle of the night when he was only seven years old and, to add to the tragedy of losing Sally, the authorities thought either his parents or Digby himself was guilty. Even worse, all of River Heights was convinced they’d done it and had turned against Digby and his parents. The pressure tore that family apart. The stray puppy, it turned out, was also the underdog. I was powerless to resist.

By Thanksgiving, he’d gotten me arrested, then kidnapped, and then blown up in an explosion. On the upside, we’d also dismantled a meth operation and found a missing girl. We didn’t find Digby’s sister, though, so he left town to keep looking for her.

But not before he scrambled my brains with that kiss. And then—nothing. Not a peep from the jerk for the last five months.

Meanwhile, everyone had heard I’d been hanging out with him and that we’d somehow busted up a major drug operation. People in school were curious and I had to act fast if I wanted to convert my infamy into friendships beyond whatever weird crisis-based camaraderie I’d experienced while I was capering around with Digby. I knew I was the flavor of a very short month, so I forced myself past the Digby-sized hole in my soul and Made an Effort.

My first attempts at getting to know new people were disasters. But then I realized that I was boring people with details, and once I basically stopped talking so much and mostly asked leading questions instead, things improved. And then, finally, after a locker room conversation—about the injustice of school going all the way until December 23—with Allie and Charlotte, two of the nicer girls from my PE class, I was in. An invitation to lunch turned into eyeliner tutorials in the good bathrooms and weekends trawling the mall with them. Eventually, I realized that I was enjoying more than just the fact that I was finally feeling included. I was actually having a good time with Charlotte and Allie. They’d been friends since grade school, but I could tell they were trying their best not to make me feel left out. And it worked. Things were looking up.

My luck kept right on improving, in fact, until after winter break, when I got my first official boyfriend: Austin Shaeffer. It happened at the mall. I was with Allie and Charlotte when I saw some guy hauling ass out of the Foot Locker. I didn’t have the time—or maybe I didn’t take the time—to think. Before I knew it, I’d kicked a wheeled holiday sale sign into the guy’s path.

The guy hit the sign with a (surprisingly) satisfying splat. Digby would’ve loved watching the Foot Locker employees swarm the thief and pull all the fitness trackers still in boxes from his pockets. For the first time in a while, I let myself feel how much I missed life with Digby. I was so distracted, I didn’t notice that a Foot Locker employee had started talking to me.

“Sorry, what?” I said. That’s when I realized it was Austin Shaeffer. I didn’t have classes with him, but I’d noticed him around school. It was hard not to notice Austin. He was handsome and athletic and one of the few guys who could be funny without being mean. He reminded me a little of Digby’s friend Henry, although that might be because Austin was Henry’s QB backup on our football team.

“You pushed the sign, right?” Austin said.

By this time, people were clapping. Charlotte pointed at me, yelling, “She’s our friend. Our friend did that.” Allie stooped for a selfie with the injured thief.

“How’d you know he shoplifted?” Austin said.

I almost said something about the weird bulge in the guy’s coat and how his run’s head-down urgency seemed more than a late-for-my-movie hustle, but I looked into Austin’s big blue eyes and checked myself. Be normal, Zoe. Austin Shaeffer doesn’t care what you know about body language.

“Actually . . .” I said. “The truth?”

Austin leaned in, forcing me to notice his aftershave. “Yeah?”

“I tripped. The sign kinda . . . rolled?” I tried not to judge myself for the giggle I burped out to sell my lie.

“Zoe Webster, right?” Austin said.

“Yeah . . . and you’re Austin—” Then suddenly Austin Shaeffer was holding my right hand. I’d forgotten about my latte and in the course of affecting coolness, I’d let my hand relax so much that coffee was pouring out the spout.

“Careful,” Austin said. “So, Zoe Webster, you saved my ass. They would’ve fired me if my section got jacked again.” He pointed at my cup. “You’ve probably had enough coffee today, but how about this weekend?”

Allie and Charlotte cackled while Austin entered my number in his phone.

“So cute . . . Austin Schaeffer’s blushing,” Allie said.

“Watch out, Zoe, Austin is trouble,” Charlotte said.

“I’m not trouble . . . don’t listen to them,” Austin said.

After Austin left, Allie, Charlotte, and I talked about him for hours. They liked him, I liked them, I wanted them to like me, Austin Shaeffer apparently liked me, and by the end of the afternoon, I liked him a lot. After Austin and I had our first coffee date, Allie, Charlotte, and I parsed every moment I’d spent with him. Being inside that giddy echo chamber was at least as much fun as the date itself.

So now I have a boyfriend and I have friends. I got flowers on Valentine’s Day, I’m invited to sleepovers, and I’m doing decently on social media. Sure, there are moments when I feel alien in my own life but mostly, it feels good to fit in. Finally, finally, I’m a normal.

But that’s all falling apart. Digby sauntered back into River Heights nine days ago, and now my happy ending is toast. Right this second, I’m about to make my entrance at the biggest party of the year. My boyfriend’s waiting inside. He’ll likely be the starting quarterback this fall, which means I’m dating the official Prince Charming of River Heights High. I’m wearing clothes way above my pay grade and riding in a fancy car with Sloane Bloom, my former nemesis who’s somehow turned into my perverse version of a fairy godmother. But here, at the brink of my Cinderella moment, all that matters to me is whether Digby will be at the party. See what I mean? Happy Ending ruined.

But as usual, I’m getting ahead of the story. I need to tell you about the last nine days.

ONE

“April is the cruelest month,” Mom said. “Just say...