Read Rule of Thirds, The for Free Online Page B

far was Reggie Stevenson in freshman year. Oh, Reggie, with his Brillo-pad hair that looked super cute but was super scratchy whenever his head rubbed against my face. He had a lot of zits but he also had a lot of freckles so they all just blended together and I really didn’t care because he was so awesome. He would put little notes in my locker between classes and call me before he went to sleep and, OK, also I just really wanted a boyfriend. I actually thought we might be together forever, things were going so well, even if they didn’t start out in the most ethical of ways.
    Reggie Stevenson was Mariella Rocca’s boyfriend. They’d already been going out before they even started at Spalding. But then, in the middle of freshman year, she got to do an exchange in Italy for the winter term and Reggie came into Scoops the day after she left, which was the day after Christmas. Which Dace said was so obviously a sign. Because no one had been in Scoops all week. Because it was DECEMBER and freezing and no one wanted ice cream. He came in every single day over the break, and by New Year’s Eve, we were making out in the freezer. I felt totally guilty until he told me he broke up with Mariella and he asked me to be his girlfriend instead. Dace convinced me Mariella was probably off making out with the Justin Bieber of Italy and was all like, “Reggie who?” For months it was all butterflies and unicorns. I even believed Reggie when he said the reason he wanted us to keep our relationship a secret was because it gave us a special bond that no one could break.
    We almost did it . I wanted to wait until March—three-month rule—but we never lasted that long.
    Because guess what?
    Turned out Reggie never broke up with Mariella. It was all a big fat lie. On the first day back after spring break—after he spent the whole week making out with me not only in the walk-in freezer at Scoops but also in my bedroom and his—there she was, back from Italia, and he went right back to being her boyfriend and it was like there had never been anything between us at all. And because I’d been a fool and believed that crap about our “special bond” no one but Dace knew we’d hooked up. So even if I’d tried to tell Mariella that she was dating a slime-ass, she probably wouldn’t have believed me. And I didn’t want to be that girl or make it look like I in any way wanted him back. Because I certainly did not. All I can say is that three-month rule really saved my butt. Or, more accurately, my virginity. And also, another reason I’m glad I quit working at Scoops at the start of last summer and am never going back.
    Still . . . it was totally humiliating. But now that I’m over it, I’m glad the whole thing happened because I’m a lot less gullible.
    Dace shuts her locker and leans against it. “So bottom line: you think Callie is his girlfriend because he punched her in the arm? Did I miss the status update on how punching someone in the arm means you want to get in their pants?” She punches me in the arm and grins.
    “So you think it’s nothing?”
    “It’s nothing. I’ve kissed guys who weren’t my boyfriend and it’s meant nothing. A punch in the arm is about as romantic as coughing at someone.”
    “Well, I wish he would’ve coughed at me.”
    “Oh you’ll get your germs soon enough, my friend. And if by chance it’s something more, who cares? In fact, we want Callie to be his girlfriend.”
    “We do?” I say as Emma passes us on her way to her locker, three down from Dace’s.
    “Cute warmers,” I say. Emma always wears legwarmers to school, which is the easiest way to tell her apart from her identical twin sister, Gemma. When it’s warm, like today, she just wears them over bare legs. Today’s are mint green and purple striped.
    “Girlfriend is too strong a word. But maybe a girl that he’s interested in. Or thinks he’s interested in, until of course, you prove to him you’re the one. Listen,