DEFRIENDED

BY R U T H B A R O N

Copyright 2013 by Ruth Baron

All rights reserved. Published by Point, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers
since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, POINT, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered
trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information
regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department,
557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
ISBN 978-0-545-42357-1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available
Boxcar (Jawbreaker/Blake Schwarzenbach) reprinted by permission of
Alexander Blake Schwarzenbach.
Fault Lines and The Mess Inside written by John Darnielle, published by
Cadmean Dawn, administered by Pacific Electric Music Publishing. Used with
permission. All rights reserved.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 12 13 14 15 16
Printed in the U.S.A.

40

First edition, May 2013

The text is set in Adobe Garamond Pro.
Book design by Natalie C. Sousa

Chapter 1
S

o bored I think I might be dead. Jason wrote the imaginary

status update in his head as Ms. Rowen droned on about
the properties of iron. He thought about sneaking his phone
from his pocket and posting it to Facebook, but Ms. Rowen
had hawkish eyes and no patience for rule breakers. Broadcasting
the monotony of chemistry to all 248 of his friends wasnt
worth the risk of getting the phone confiscated for the week.
Two hundred forty-eight friends. Two hundred forty-nine if
you included the request from his aunt Sally that hed been
ignoring. The list was like a tour through his utterly pathetic
middle and high school career. There was Rachel Keller, the
curly-haired saxophone player he had slow danced with at
Jacob Coopers bar mitzvah. Sadly, that was pretty much the
most action hed had in the past four years. Alex McCoy, a
bespectacled kid hed bunked with at summer camp, flooded
his newsfeed with creepy photos of frogs and other unwitting
specimens. Sometimes someone like Suzy Garz popped up,
though the charismatic captain of the field hockey team hadnt
exchanged actual words with Jason since the fourth grade. Not
that he was so unhappy about that he was pretty sure the
inspirational quotes she was posting were from a 90s edition of
Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul. Either there or the back of a
cereal box at Whole Foods.
1

Jasons eyes wandered around the room. To his surprise, his

best friend Rakeshs face was frozen in rapt concentration. It
took Jason a minute to realize it was a phone cradled carefully
in his hands that had captured his attention. Rakesh could
afford to get his iPhone confiscated he kept a spare one in
his locker for just such an occasion. One of the perks of being
among the most popular students at Roosevelt High was that
girls (and boys and maintenance staff and teachers) were happy
to help Rakesh out on the rare occasion he couldnt charm his
way out of a punishment. He had 892 friends last Jason had
checked. His wide smile and princely cheekbones populated
almost as many photos. Jason knew because he was featured in
many of them, but hed untagged any where you could see light
reflecting off his glasses or his hair looked floppy. Which was
pretty much all of them.
Jason forced himself to concentrate on Ms. Rowen as she
explained the process of oxidization. He couldnt afford to get
anything less than a B on the approaching midterm. One of
the few advantages to leading the worlds quietest social life was
that his mother allowed him to do pretty much whatever he
pleased so long as he made good grades, but if she had even the
slightest inkling he was lying to her, it was only a matter of
time before shed take his car or worse, his laptop away.
He wasnt intentionally deceiving her. Hed sit down at his
computer intending to focus on schoolwork, but when Lacey
was online everything else had a tendency to fade into the
background.
Lacey. His stomach flipped just thinking about her. She had
changed everything with two words. Hey and Jason were
things he heard almost every day, but they werent usually
2

featured next to a profile picture of a gray-eyed girl with beachy

blonde hair. And Lacey was so much more than that, too. Since
the first time shed messaged him six weeks ago, theyd barely
gone a day without e-mailing or chatting online, and each time
he heard from her he could barely believe his good luck. Like
him, she was a nut for indie rock, sending song lyrics or links
to old Pitchfork posts on bands he thought only he knew
about. She was even learning to play guitar, something Jason
spent a lot of time wishing he could do. Hed gotten as far as
the cheapest Fenders at Strings, the guitar store in the city,
before the tiny tattooed clerk with huge round eyes that made
her look like an anime character scared him off by picking up a
Gibson and banging out a punk rock riff he didnt recognize,
probably because shed written it herself. Lacey didnt seem like
the type to frighten easily, and she had a warmth that was conspicuously absent from the ferocious girls who hung around
Strings. She was funny comparing her spacey English
teacher to Ms. Frizzle and calling her friends by rapper nicknames like J Money and Funky Dash. Best of all, she seemed to
genuinely like Jason.
He knew he shouldnt exactly be composing the playlist for
their wedding or even changing his relationship status
but it was hard to contain his excitement now that he finally
had something to think about in chemistry other than whether
the clock was broken.
Suddenly, he felt his hip vibrating and was so surprised he
bolted to attention. A few of his classmates swiveled in their
seats to see what had startled him, and he sat stone still until
Ms. Rowen turned back to the whiteboard. His phone rarely
rang during the day. Hed sent Lacey his number a few weeks
3

before, and since then, every time his cell buzzed or beeped his
heart leapt into his throat. Unfortunately, a sidelong look to
his left confirmed it wasnt worth the excitement. Rakesh
did his best to suppress the smile beginning at the corners of
his mouth, but when youve been friends with someone since
you were both in diapers, you get pretty good at recognizing
when theyre messing with you.
Jasons pocket buzzed again, and he glared at Rakesh before
slowly sneaking his phone into his lap.
Rakesh Adams: Admit it you think ms. R is sexy when she
talks about chemistry like this.

And then the second:

U dream about her reciting formulas 2 u

He was about to respond when Ms. Rowen turned back

from the board. He shoved the phone out of sight about half a
second before her eyes settled on him. Is something funny,
Mr. Moreland? she asked sharply.
Um, no. His voice cracked as he answered. As if opening his mouth in front of his entire class wasnt bad enough on
its own.
So that smile on your face is a product of your general
delight to be alive? A celebration of how great it is to be Jason
Moreland, boy wonder?
His cheeks burned, and he kept his eyes trained carefully
ahead, but he couldnt block out the snickering around him. I
was just, uh, happy I finally understand the formula. Jason
prayed she wouldnt ask him to explain he had no idea what
the notes she had copied there meant. She frowned suspiciously, but before she could humiliate him further, the bell
rang. Mercifully, class was over.
4

Jason and Rakesh both made a beeline for the door. Dude,
why didnt you answer my texts? Rakesh, with his artfully
rumpled gray backpack slung over his shoulder, ran one hand
through his wavy black hair and used the other to greet kids
they were passing in the hall, all of whom parted as they passed.
Like Miss America, Jason had observed on more than one occasion. And really, if Roosevelt High had its own pageant, Rakesh
would be a front-runner for the tiara. Hed probably even manage to pull off faux crystals and inspire half the guys in school
to start wearing sashes. Its not that Jason was jealous if he
had his way, hed be the one making fun of the contestants
from home but he sometimes marveled at the fact that
his parents choices in early childhood playdates had somehow condemned him to a life as sidekick to the most popular
guy in school.
I cant get my phone confiscated just because you got bored
in chemistry.
Oh, do you need it in case you get an important call
from Laney?
Its Lacey, Jason said defensively. They made their way
to their lockers to drop off their oversize chemistry textbooks. As they swung the doors shut, Rakesh plucked a
tissue paper flower that had been tucked into the vents at
the top. Jason raised an eyebrow. Did I forget your birthday?
he asked.
Rakesh shrugged. Oh, you know, every days your birthday
when it comes to Amy Kastle.
They made their way toward the cafeteria, pausing so Rakesh
could bump fists with a group of basketball players wearing
suits for game day. Jason awkwardly slapped hands with the
5

overly eager Dan Greene and wished them luck against Mason.
School spirit, another ritual he would prefer to sit out.
They took their seats at their usual table, and Rakesh steered
the conversation back to Jason. So you and Lacey have graduated to the phone?
Not exactly.
Yo, you need to get on that.
Ignoring him, Jason unwrapped his sandwich. Turkey, provolone, mustard on one slice of whole wheat bread, mayo on
the other. It was the same sandwich hed eaten for as long as he
could remember. He bit into it. It tasted like yesterday.

In theory, Jason liked English fine, but then Katie Leigh would
open her puckered mouth and say things like I feel like the
identity metaphor of the green light is really prevalent here,
and Dave Jordan would cut her off to add his own analysis of
the spectacles from the billboard even though they were both
supposed to be talking about Shakespeare. Jason wished they
had never been assigned The Great Gatsby over the summer
because it was proof that other people could ruin anything, even
a great American novel. But the silver lining was that as long as
Katie and Daves Who wants to be a Princeton student?
pseudo-intellectual battle continued, Jason could tune out and
scribble lyrics in his notebook under the guise of taking notes.

It was all turning gray

It was all turning black
Then you were there
And you keep coming back
6

These things tend to get ugly

Or so I am told
But now that youre here
Everythings coming up gold
Drive out, see the stars, in the car, were falling hard
Wake up, feel the sun, touch your hair, see your heart
Hed been writing songs over the past year, but he usually got
frustrated and gave up before he could finish them. A day or
two after he started, Jason would go back to his work and
cringe, crumpling up loose leaf or dragging the docs to his trash
for that satisfying springy sound. This one was different,
though. The song wasnt ready yet still too sweet, too tidy,
and only half done but it didnt make him want to burn the
notebook hed scrawled it in. He was going to keep writing
until it was perfect, and then he would show it to Lacey. Maybe
she would even write the music for it.
He looked down at the page in front of him and drew a box
around the line Everythings coming up gold, tracing the
edges several times until the ink bled through to the next sheet.
It was a good note to end the song on. He could hear it, repeated
several times, in his head. He half listened as Mrs. Granger
highlighted relevant themes from the Hamlet reading he hadnt
done, while one eye rested on the clock. He watched the seconds tick by and waited for the day to end. Like he had
yesterday, and the day before that.