The Do-Over

TheDo-Over
LynnPainter
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YOUMATTER,andyourhappyendingWILLcome.Sometimesthewaitisjustlongerinreallifethaninfiction.PROLOGUEValentine’sDayEve
WhenValentine’sDayrearsitssugary-sweet,heart-shapedhead,therearetwotypesofpeoplewhoreceiveit.
First,youhavethefull-onloversoftheholiday,hopelessromanticsobsessedwiththeideaofloveitself.Theseindividualsbelieveinfateandsoulmatesandthenotionthattheuniversesendsoutwinged,mostlynakedbabiestoshootarrowsintoselectsinglepeople,thusinfectingthemwithtruelovethatmaycausedrowsinessandamassivehappily-ever-after.
Thenyouhavethecynics,thosecurmudgeonlysoulswhocallita“Hallmarkholiday”andcomplainthatiftrueloveexists,itsproclamationsshouldbeexpressedspontaneouslyonanyrandomdayandwithouttheexpectationofgifts.
Well,Iamneither—andboth—ofthesepeople.
IdobelievethatValentine’sDayisanovercommercializedHallmarkholiday,butIalsothinkthere’snothingwrongwithenjoyingthematerialisticsideeffectsofthecelebration.Bringonthechocolatesandflowers,andthrowinagiftcardtothelocalbookstorewhileyou’reatit.
Andyes,Ibelieveintheexistenceoftruelove.ButIstronglysuspectthatfateandsoulmatesandloveatfirstsightareconceptscreatedbythesamepeoplestillwaitingforSantatoshowupwiththatpuppytheyaskedforwhentheyweresevenyearsold.
Inotherwords,Iabsolutelyexpectloveinmylife,butthereisnowayI’mgoingtositaroundandwaitforfatetomakeithappen.
Fateisforsuckers.
Loveisforplanners.
MyparentsgotmarriedonValentine’sDayafteramonthofdating.Theyfellpassionately,wildlyinlovewhentheywereeighteen.Immediately,andwithzeroconsiderationofreal-worldfactslikecompatibilityanddifferingtemperaments.
Whilethisfoolishbehaviorledto,well,me,italsoledtoyearsofdisagreementsandshoutingmatchesthatwerethesoundtrackofmychildhoodbeforetheirrelationshipdevolvedintoascreamingbreakupnexttothetinycherubfountainonourfrontlawn.
Buttheirinabilitytouselogicinthefaceoffeelingsgavemethegiftofclarity,oflearningfromtheirmistakes.Insteadofdatingboyswhomakemeswoonbutaretotallywrongforme,Ionlydateboyswhohittheirmarksonmypros-and-conssheet.Ionlydateboyswhoonpaper(oranExcelspreadsheet)shareatleastfivecommoninterestswithme,haveabroadoutlineoftheirten-yearplan,anddressliketheyaren’tpronetorandomoutburstsofbasketball.
WhichwaswhyJoshwasboyfriendperfection.
HeX’deverysingleboxonmypre-boyfriendchecklisttheveryfirsttimewemet,andhe’dbeenoverperformingeverydayfortheentirethreemonthswe’dbeentogether.
So,asIstoodinfrontofmyclosetonthatValentine’sEve,selectingtheperfectoutfitforthefollowingday,Iwasexcited.Notaboutnude,armedinfantsorepiccosmicsurprises,butaboutmyplans.Ihadtheentiredayplottedout—thegift,thewordsIwouldsay,theappropriatetimingofboth—anditwasgoingtobeexactlywhatIwantedittobe.
Perfection.
WhywouldIwaitforfatetolendahand,whenIhadtwoperfectlycapablehandsofmyown?CONFESSION#1
WhenIwasten,Istartedputtingconfessionstripsintoaboxinmyclosetsothatifanythinghappenedtome,peoplewouldknowthatIwasmorethanjustthequietgirlwhofollowedtherules.
THEFIRSTVALENTINE’SDAY
WhenmyalarmwentoffonValentine’sDay,Iwassmiling.Tostartwith,Iactuallyhadaboyfriend,andhewasn’tjustamehboyfriend,either.JoshwassmartandhandsomeandarguablythemostlikelystudentatHazelwoodHightosucceedinabigway.EverytimewestudiedtogetherandheputonhisIvyLeaguetortoiseshellglasses,Isworethatmyheartactuallyfoldedoveronitself,causingthesweetpinchingfeelingthatshotwarmththrougheachandeveryoneofmynerveendings.
Inhindsight,thatfeelingwasprobablysomesortofatrialdefectcausedbymysteadydietofblackcoffeeandenergydrinks.ButIdidn’tknowthatyet.
Ipushedbackthecoversandclimbedoutofbed,ignoringthesoundofLogan’sopen-mouthedsleep-breathingfromtheothersideofthemattress.Mythree-year-oldstepbrotherlikedtosneakintomyroomandsleepwithmebecauseheprettymuchthoughtIwasamazing.
Andhewasright.BecauseasIwalkedovertowheremyplannersatopenonmydesk,Ifeltamazing.Ihummed“Lover”asIputonmyglassesandconsultedtheday’slist
To-DoList—February14
Reorganizescholarshipplanningbinder
StudyforLittest
RemindMomtoemailcopyofinsurancecardtooffice
RemindDadofparent-teacherconferencesandmakesureheputsitonhiscalendar
Sendemailtointernshipadviser
ExchangegiftswithJosh
Say“Iloveyou”toJosh!!!!!!!!!!!
Ilingeredonthelastone,pickingupmypenanddoodlingheartsaroundit.I’dneversaidthosewordsromanticallybefore,andsinceourthree-monthanniversaryhappenedtofallonTHEday,itwasalmostasiftheuniversehadscheduleditforme.
Filledwithbuzzyexcitement,Iwentintothebathroomandturnedontheshower.AsIstuckmyhandunderthestreamofwatertotestthetemperature,Iheard:
“Em,areyoualmostdoneinthere?”
Ugh.Irolledmyeyesandsteppedunderthewater.“Ijustgotinhere.”
“Joelneedstogopotty.”Lisa,mydad’swife,soundedlikehermouthwasplantedonthedoor.“Bad.”
“Can’thegoupstairs?”Ipouredshampoointomyhandandrubbeditonmyhead.Iadoredthetwins,butlivingwithtoddlerssuckedsometimes.
“Yourdad’sinthere.”
Sighing,Isaid,“Givemetwominutes.”Irushedthroughtherestoftheshower,refusingtoletthedisruptionruinmymood.Aftertowelingoffandthrowingonmyrobe,IranpastLisaandasquirmyJoel,backtomybasementbedroom.Ibreezedthroughblowingoutmytoo-curlyhair—stillhumminglovesongs—beforepluggingintheironandsteamingoutthepeskycreaseontherightsleeveofmydress.Iknewmybestfriend,Chris,wouldrollhiseyesandtellmeIwasbeinghyper-anal,butwhyleavethecreasewhenittakesameretwominutestogetitout?
Igotdressedandranupstairstoscarfaproteinbarbeforeleavingforschool.AsIrippedopenthewrapper,myeyeswanderedovertothepiepanthatwassittingbesidethemicrowaveliketemptationincarnate.Yes,theleftoverpieceofFrenchsilkpiewouldtasteamazing,Ithoughtasatookabigbiteofpeanutbutterandwhey,butasliceofsugarandcarbswasnowaytostarttheday.
Ilookedawayfromthechocolatedessertandfocusedonchewingthedryproteinbar.
“GoodLord,slowdown.”Mydadwassittingatthetable,readingthepaperanddrinkingcoffeelikehehadeverysingledayofmylife.Hishairwasflame-red,thepotentoriginaltomywatered-downcoppery-brownversion.Hegavemeasmart-asssmileandsaid,“NoonehereknowstheHeimlich.”
“Isn’tthat,like,aparentalrequirementorsomething?HowdoyouandLisahavekidsandnoHeimlich-ingskills?”
Hestareddirectlyatmyoverfilledmouth.“Wefoolishlyassumedouroffspringwouldn’tsuckdownfoodlikesows.”
“Youknowwhathappenswhenyouassume,right?”
“Yeah.”Hewinkedandwentbacktothepaper.“Someone’sanass.”
“Oh,comeon,youguys.”LisacameintothekitchenwithLoganononehip,Joelontheother.“Canwepleasenotsweararoundthebabies?”
“Theyweren’tinhere,”Isaidthroughamouthfulofbar,“whenhesaidit.”
“Andtechnically,”mydadsaid,throwingmeanotherwink,“?‘ass’isn’tabadword.It’sadonkey.”IgrinnedwhileLisalookedatmeasifshewishedIwoulddisappear.
I’dbeensplittingtimebetweenmymom’sandmydad’ssincetheydivorcedwhenIwasinelementaryschool,butIwasstilljustanomadintheway.Atbothoftheirhouses.Tobefair,Lisawasn’tthestereotypicalevilstepmother.Shetaughtkindergarten,mademydadhappy,andshewasareallygoodmomtotheboys.IjustalwaysfeltlikeIwasinherway.
Igrabbedmybackpackandmycarkeys,threwoutagoodbye,andranforthedoor.
Thesunwasbrighteventhoughtheairwasfreezing,andwe’dgottenadustingofsnowovernight,butitlookedlikemydadhadalreadyscrapedmywindows.Iheardmyphonefromthedepthsofmybag,andpulleditoutjustintimetoseethatChriswasFaceTimingme.
Iansweredandthereweremytwoclosestfriends,smilingatmefrominfrontoftheredlockersofthejuniorhallway.Ismiledatmyphone’scrackedscreen,atmyfavoritefacesinthewholeworld.
Roxanehaddarkbrownskin,cheekbonesfordays,andthekindofeyelashesthatsuburbanmomstriedtoemulatewithextensions,andChrishadheavy-liddedbrowneyes,flawlessporcelainskin,andcurlyblackhairthatstuckupinthemostperfectway.Iftheyweren’tgenuinelyamazinghumans,it’dbehardnottohatethemfortheirgoodlooks.
“You’reatschoolalready?”Iasked.
“Yes,andguesswhatwejustsaw?”Chrisasked,wagglinghiseyebrows.
“Iwanttotell,”Roxsaid,movinginfrontofhimonthescreen.
“Isaw,soItell.”Chrisnudgedheroutoftheway.“JoshisalreadyhereandIsawhimputagiftbaginhislocker.”
Iscreechedandtiny-clappedbeforehoppingintotheoldAstrovanthatmydadinsisted“hadcharacter.”“Bigorsmall?”
“Medium,”Chrissaid,andthenRoxchimedinwith,“Whichisgoodbecausetoobigjustmeansacrappystuffedanimal,andtoosmallmeansacouponforfreehugs.Mediumisgood.Mediumisthedream.”
Ilaughed.Theirenthusiasmmademehappybecauseupuntillately,they’dbeenanti-Josh.Theysaidheactedlikehewasbetterthaneveryoneelse,butIknewitwasonlybecausetheydidn’treallyknowknowhim.Hewasjustsosmartandconfidentthatitwassometimesmisconstruedasarrogance.
Hopefullythismeantthattheywerereconsideringtheiropinions.
Rox’sboyfriend,Trey,poppedupinthebackgroundandwaved.IwavedbackbeforeIendedthecall,droppedthephone,startedthevan,andspedtowardschool.Finneascroonedsweetlyoutofthespeakers,andIsangalongatfullvolumetoeverysinglewordof“Let’sFallinLovefortheNight.”
Icouldn’twaittoseeJosh.He’drefusedtogivemeahintastowhatmypresentwas,soIhadnoideawhattoexpect.Flowers?Jewelry?Eventhoughit’dtakentwofullcoffeeshoppaychecks,IboughthimtheCoachbandhewantedforhiswatch.Yes,Iwasbrokenow,butseeinghisfacelightupwhenheopeneditwouldmakeitworthit.
MyphonebuzzedonthepassengerseatandatthefirstredlightIglancedover.
Josh:HappyVD.Areyouhereyet?Andwhatdoyouwantfirst—poemorgift?
Poem,definitely.
Ismiled,andthelightturnedtogreen.AsIcruisedthroughoursuburbanneighborhood,thesongontheradio(myantiquatedvandidn’tevenhaveBluetoothcapability)switchedtosomethingscreamyandmetal,soIstartedscanningforatuneworthyofthemomentousday.
BillyJoel?Nope
GreenDay?Negative
Adele?Hmmm…thatmightjustwork—
Iglanceddownatthedashboardtoturnupthevolume,thenlookedupjustintimetoseethatthetruckinfrontofmehadstoppedsuddenly.Istoodonthebrake,butinsteadofstopping,mytireslockedandIbegansliding.Shit,shit,shit!
TherewasnothingIcoulddo.Islammedintothebackofthetruck.Hard.Ibracedmyselfforthecarbehindmetohit,butitthankfullystoppedintime.
Barelybreathing,Ilookedthroughthewindshieldtoseemyhoodwastotallycrumpled.Butthepersondrivingthetruckwassteppingout,whichhopefullymeanttheywereokay.Igrabbedmyphone,openedthedoor,andgotouttoseethedamage.
“Youweretexting,weren’tyou?”
“What?”Ilookedup,andtherewasNickStark,myChemistrylabpartner.“Ofcoursenot!”
Hiseyesdippeddowntomyhand,tomyphone,andheraisedaneyebrow.
WhatweretheoddsthatIwould’vehitsomeoneIknew?AndnotjustsomeoneIknew,butsomeonewho’dneverreallyseemedtolikeme.Imean,technicallyhe’dneverbeenajerktome,buthehadn’teverbeenfriendly,either.
OnthefirstdayofChem,whenI’dintroducedmyself,insteadofsayingNicetomeetyouorI’mNick,he’djustlookedatmeforafewsecondsbeforesaying“Okay”andgoingbacktolookingathisphone.WhenI’daccidentallyspilledmyenergydrinkonourlabtableafewmonthsago,insteadofsayingIt’sokaylikeanormalhumanwhenI’dapologized,NickStarkhadstaredrightatmeand,withoutsmiling,said,“Maybeyoushouldlayoffthecaffeine.”
Theguywaskindofanenigma.I’dneverseenhimaroundoutsideofschool,andhedidn’treallyhaveacliqueorfriendgroupthatIwasawareof.Eventhoughwewerejuniors,Istilldidn’thaveenoughinformationtofigureouthowtoclassifyhim.
AndIhatedthat.
“Youweretheonewhowasstoppedinthemiddleofabusystreet,”Isaid.
“Therewasasquirrelcrossing,”herepliedinanear-growl.
“Listen,Nick.”Itookadeepbreath,foundmymentalmantra—Youareontopofthis,youareontopofthis—andmanaged,“Don’tblame—”
Hiseyesnarrowed.“I’msorry.Youare…?”
Icrossedmyarmsandsquintedmyeyes.“Areyouserious?”
“YougotoHazelwood?”
“I’myourlabpartner.”Washemessingwithme?Theguyneverreallyspokeotherthantheoccasionalone-syllableresponse,butstill.“We’vesharedatableinChemtheentireyear…?Ringinganybellshere?”
“That’syou?”Hiseyesroamedovermyfacelikehewasn’tsureifhebelievedmeornot.
“Yes,that’sme!”IwaslosingmycoolbecauseIhadverybigplansfortheday,andthissurlyboywasholdingmeupfrommakingmyperfectValentine’sDayhappen.
Andalsonotrememberingme,which…whatthehell?
Hesaid,“Youhaveinsurance,right?”
“Thisisunbelievable,”Imuttered,lookingathisoldredtruckthatdidn’tappeartolookanyworseinthebackthanitdidallover.“Itdoesn’tlooklikethere’sanydamage.Fromthisend,atleast.”
“Insuranceinformation,please.”Heheldouthispalmandwaited.Ikindofwantedtopushhimforhisattitudeofdriverlysuperiority,buthewasalottallerthanmeandhadbroadshouldersthatdidn’tlooklikethey’dbudgeeasily.
Soinstead,IleanedintothevanandsnatchedmybackpackfromtheseatbeforeopeningthegloveboxandpullingoutthesmallbinderIputtogetherthedayIgotthevan.Iflippedtotheyellowdivider—the“InCaseofAccident”section—andslidtheinsurancecardoutofitsprotectivesleeve.
Hetookitandhiseyesnarrowed.“Youkeepitinanotebook?”
“It’snotanotebook,it’sanemergencybinder.”
“Andthedifferenceis…?”
“It’sjustawaytokeepeverythingprotectedandorganized.”
“Everything?”Helookedatthebinderandsaid,“Whatelseisinthere?”
“Alistofmechanics,towtruckcompanies,firstaidinstructions…”Irolledmyeyesandsaid,“Doyoureallywantmetocontinue?”
NickstaredatmeforasolidfivesecondsbeforemutteringwhatsoundedlikeHellnoashepulledouthisphoneandsnappedaphotooftheinsurancecard.Afterthat,heinsistedoncallingthepolicewhenmyvanstartedsmoking.Itriedtoinsistthatitwasdrivable—Ineededtogettoschoolandhearmypoem,dammit—untiltheenginewentupinflamesandthefiremenhadtoputitout.
Ugh,mydadwasgoingtokillme.
Andthenmymomwasgoingtopickapartmycorpseuntiltherewasnothingleft.
AndIwasn’tgoingtohavetimeforJosh’spoemuntilafterfirstblock.
“Here.”Nickcameoverfromhistruckandheldoutacoat.“Iknowitdoesn’tmatchyouroutfit,butit’swarm.”
IwantedtosaynobecauseIblamedhimforthisdisaster,butIwaschilled.MyclassicpinkRalphLaurenoxforddresshadbeentoocutetocoverwithacoat,butthat’dbeenbeforeIwasstandingoutinthecold,watchingmyvehiclebecomeabonfire.
“Thanks,”IsaidasIslidintothearmy-greenjacketthatnearlywentdowntomyknees.
Nickcrossedhisarmsandsurveyedthesceneofemergencyresponderscleaningupthewreckage.“Atleastyoualreadyhadaclunker.”
“Ithinkyoumean‘classic,’?”Isaid,eventhoughIhatedmycreepervan.TherewasjustsomethingaboutNick’sattitude—andthefactthathedidn’trecognizeme—thatmademewanttoarguewithhim.
Hecrossedhisarmsandsaid,“Youdoingokayhere?”
Ifake-smiledandbitout,“Wonderful.”
Iglanceddownatmyphone.Nonotifications.NeitherofmyparentsansweredwhenItriedcallingthem,whichwasn’tsurprising.IdesperatelywantedtotextJosh,butthelastthingIneededtodowasremindNickthatImight’vebeendistractedwhenIhithim.
Thepoliceofficergottherequicklyafterthefiremenandwasrelativelyniceashewrotemethecitationthatwassuretogetmegrounded.
Ugh.
Nicklookedatmeasthetowtruckdisappearedwithmyvan.“Youwantaride?Imean,we’regoingtothesameplaceandyou’redressedlikethat.”
Ilookeddownatmybarelegsandbrownleatherbooties,clenchingmyteethtokeepthemfromchattering.“Likewhat?”
“Ridiculously.”
“Hey.”
Heactuallygrinnedatmyexpression.“Iwasn’timpugningyourfashionchoices—youlookvery,um,poloplayer’sgirlfriend,don’tworry.Iwasmerelyreferringtoyourbarelegsandthefactthatit’s,like,twentydegreesoutside.Ride?Yes?”
Iswallowedandburiedmyfrozennoseinthecoatcollar.Itsmelledlikecoldandmotoroil.“Um,yeah.Iguess.”
“Youmeanthankyou?”
Thatactuallymademesmilealittle.“Thankyousomuch,myamazingsavior.”
“That’smorelikeit.”
Iclimbedintohistruck,slammedtheheavydoor,andbuckledmyseatbelt.Itrumbledtoaloudstartbeforeheturnedoffhisflashersandheadedinthedirectionoftheschool.Whateverangrybandhehadblaringfromthatantiquatedstereosystemwasatrociousandwaytooloud.
“Whatisthis?”Iturneddownthegarbagemusicandheldmyfrozenfingersinfrontoftheventsthatwerehaltinglyblowingoutwarmair.
“Ifyou’rereferringtothemusic,it’sMetallica.Howdoyounotknowthat?”
“Um,becauseIhavetasteandI’mnotahundred?”
Thatmadehismouthslideintoasmirk.“Whatisyourgo-todrivingalbum,then,labpartner?”
IwascurrentlysuperintoFleetwoodMac’sRumoursalbumbutIshruggedandsaid,“Ikindofjustlistentotheradio.”
“Youpoor,quality-music-starvedgirl.”
“Inthisinstanceitwouldbepoor,unintelligible-barking-starvedgirl.”
“Justlisten.”Hecrankeditbackupandsmiledoveratme.“Theirragefeelsgood,doesn’tit?Feelit,BunsonBurner—breatheitin.”
“I’mgood.”BunsonBurner.Ishookmyheadbutcouldn’tholdinthesmileastheword“blackened”wasgruntedoutbyMetallicaalloverhistruck.“I’lljustsnortmyownrage,thankyou.”
Afteraminuteheturnedthemusicbackdownandhithisblinkerasthehighschoolapproached.Hemovedtheshifternexttothesteeringwheel,poppingitintosecondgearfortheturn,andIthinkIsoundedalittletooexcitedwhenIsaid,“Thistruckisthree-on-the-tree?”
Hecrinkledhisbrowstogether.“Howdoyouknowaboutthree-on-the-tree?”
Icrossedmyarmsandfeltkindofcool.“Iknowlotsofthings.”
Hismouthwentintoafilthysmile.“Well,thatiscertainlynicetoknow.”
DidhethinkIwasflirting?“Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.”
Hechuckledalittlehuh-huh-huhlaughthatwasdeepandrumbly.
MycheekswereburningandIsaid,“Mydadhadacarwiththat.Forgetit.”
Hepulledaroundtothejuniorparkinglot.“Didheteachyouhowtodriveit?”
“What?”Ireacheddownandpulledmylipglossoutofmybackpack.
“Thecarwithstandardtransmissiononthecolumn.Didyourdadteachyoutodriveit?”
“Nope.”Ipulleddownhisvisorandranthewandovermymouth,rememberingallthetimesmydadhadpromisedtoteachmebutendedupgettingtoobusywithworkandthetwinstoactuallyfollowthroughonhisword.
“That’sashame.”Histruckfishtailedasheturnedattheendofthefirstrow.“Everyoneshouldknowhowtodriveamanualtransmission.”
Yeah,theyshould.Iflippedthevisorbackupandpicturedthestickshiftinmydad’sPorsche,thedecades-oldprojectcarhe’dalwayssaidwouldbeminewhenhefinishedit
He’dfinisheditthreeyearsago.
“Bytheway,didyoutellyourparentsthatyourmachineburneddown?”Hegavemyphoneasidewaysglance,likehewaswaitingformetostarttexting.
Ilookedoutthewindow.Thefactthatneitherofmyparentshadcalledbackwasniceinaway,asitpostponedtheimmenseamountoftroubleIwasabouttobein.Butitalsostungabitthattheyweren’tconcernedaboutwhyIwascontactingthemwhenIshouldhavebeenatschool.Insteadofexplainingallthosecomplicatedemotions,Isaid,“No,IthoughtI’dsaveitasasurprise.”
“Goodcall.”Heslidintoasnow-packedspot,andIremindedmyselfthatitwasstillValentine’sDay.Imayhavelostmycarandwouldsoonbedestroyedbymyparents,butinafewminutesI’dbewithJosh.He’dreadmepoetry,givememypresent,Iwouldsaythosemagicalthreewords,andeverythingelsewouldmeltaway.
“Well,”Isaid,openingthedoorafterhepulledtoastopandcuttheengine.“HaveahappyValentine’sDay.”
“Fuckthat,”Nicksaid,bitingoutthewordsasifI’dwishedhimahappycastrationashegotoutandslammedhisdoor.“Ifuckinghatethisday.”
Isteppedoutofthetruck,tookoffhiscoat,andhelditouttohimwhenhecamearound.“Well,then,justhaveaday,Iguess.”
“Sure,”hesaid,tossingthecoatintothebackofthevehicle.“Thanks.”CONFESSION#2
Ioncepulledahotel’sfirealarmbecausemyparentsweresleepinginandIwantedtogettoDisneylandbeforetherewasalinetoseeBelle.
“Emilie,Ihaveanoteherethatsaysyouneedtogototheoffice.”Mr.Seward,mysecond-hourteacher,wavedahallpassinfrontofhisface.
“Oh.”IputdownthebookIwasn’tsupposedtobereading,stoodandgrabbedmybagfromthefloorbesideme.I’dbeeninthemiddleofafairlyintensesexscene,somycheeksinstantlygothotasIfeltporn-busted.
“Oooh—Emmie’sintrouble.”
IsmiledatNoah,Josh’sbestfriend.Hewasatennisplayerwho’dneversaidasinglewordtomeuntilIstarteddatingJosh.Who,coincidentally,ImissedthismorningbecauseNickandIgotintoschooljustintimeforfirsthour.Sofar,thisdaywasnotgoinghowitwassupposedto.
“Youknowme,”IsaidtoNoahasIshovedmybookinmybag,grabbedthepass,andexitedtheclassroom.ImissedNickStark’soversizedjacketasIwalkeddowntheemptyhallway.I’dbeenfrozensolidsincetheminuteI’dhandeditbacktohimintheparkinglot.IknewJoshwouldn’thaveanythingthatutilitarianinhislocker—hislight-knitnavycardiganwasaswarmasit’dget—butIwassocoldthatI’dprobablyswingbytopickitup.
Ilookeddownatmyphone,buttheonlymessageIhadwasfrommyawfulbossatwork,tryingtogetmetocomeinwhenIwasn’tscheduled.
NotonValentine’sDay,sir.OrStankbreath,whichiswhatIreferredtohiminmyhead.
Whichsoundedmean,buthereallywasawful.He’dbeenknowntocliphisfingernailsinthebreakroom,scrollthroughTinderwhileworkingeventhoughhewasmarried,andhe’dneverheardoftheterm“personalspace.”HowelsewouldIknowsomuchabouthisbreath?
Iputthephoneinmydresspocketandwonderedwhattheofficesummoningwasabout,butIwasn’tworried.I’djustbeennotifiedthepreviousweekthatI’dwontheAliceP.HardyExcellenceinJournalismHighSchoolFellowship,soitwasprobablyaboutthat.
Istillhadtopinchmyselfoverthatone.NotonlyhadIbeenacceptedintotheprestigioussummerjournalismprogram,whereI’dgettostayinanapartmentinChicagoandworkalongsidefiftyotherhighschoolstudentsforanentiremonth,butitwasgoingtobe100percentpaidfor.
Iwasbeyondexcitedforthework,butevenmorethrilledabouthowgooditwouldlookonmycollegeapplications.Mostofmyfriendsdidn’tcareaboutthatyet,butIwasgoingtomakesureIgotintothecollegeofmychoiceifitkilledme.
“Hi,Emilie.”Mrs.Svoboda,theschoolsecretary,smiledandgesturedformetogotothecounselingoffice.“GoonbacktoMr.Kessler’soffice.He’swaitingforyou.”
“Thanks.”Iwentbackandliftedmyhandtoknockonthecounselor’shalf-closedofficedoorwhenhebellowed,“Heresheisnow.Comein,Emilie.”
Iwalkedintohisofficeandsawthewomanwho’dinterviewedmeforthefellowship.Shewassittinginachair,holdingacupofcoffeeandgivingmehard-coreeyecontact.
“Oh.Um,hi.”Ihadn’texpectedtoseeher,butIquicklyrecoveredandwentinforafirmhandshake.“Nicetoseeyouagain.”
Thewoman—Mrs.Bowen—fumbledformyhandandlookedshockedbytheshake.“Youtoo,thoughIwishweweremeetingunderbettercircumstances.”
Evenwiththatwarning,Ididn’texpectsomethingbadbad.IexpectedhertosayIneededonemorereference,orperhapsthatitwasimperativetheygetaheadshotfrommestat.
Iperchedontheedgeofthechairinthecorner.“Oh?”
“Unfortunatelytherewasanerrorinthescoringoffellowshipapplications.Ithascometoourattentionthatsomenumberswereaddedincorrectly.”
Myheartbeatpickedupalittle.“Whichmeans…?”
“Whichmeansthatyouactuallydidn’twinafellowship.”
Itsoundscliché,butIfelttheblooddrainfrommyface.Like,Ifeltit.Isawsparklystarsinfrontofmyeyesandmyhearingturnedfurryastheramificationsofherstatementsunkin.
Nogettingfarawayforthesummer.
Noprestigiousprogramtolistonmycollegeapplications.
BeingleftbehindwhileJoshattendedhisprestigioussummerprogram.
NoNorthwestern.
“Emilie?”Mr.KesslernarrowedhiseyesandlookedlikehewasafraidIwasgoingtofaint.Asif.TherewereahundredthingsIfeltlikedoingatthatmoment—mostofthemviolent—andfaintingwasn’toneofthem.
Ituckedmyhairbehindmyearsandworkedforapolitesmile.“Sothat’sthefinalandconfirmedtally,then?”
Mrs.Bowen’slipsturneddownandshenodded.“Wearesoterriblysorry.”
“Well.”Ishruggedandsmiled.“Whatcanyoudo,right?Thesethingshappen.Iappreciatetheopportunity.”
Thewomantiltedherhead,likeshecouldn’tbelieveIwasn’tfreakingout.Trustme,lady,I’velearnedthatfreakingoutneverchangesathing.Sheadded,“Ijustcannotapologizeenough,Emilie.”
“Iunderstand.”Iclearedmythroatandstood.“Thankyouforlettingmeknow.”
Ileftwithmyheadheldhighandwentstraighttothebathroom.Ihatedcrying,buttherewasahugeballofdevastationsittingrightontopofmysternumthatthreatenedtoknockmeoverifIdidn’ttakeaminute.
Itextedbothofmyparentsandneitherofthemresponded.
Itwassoundignified,sittingfullyclothedonatoiletandcrying,butitwasjustsuchablow.EverythingI’dbeenworkingtowardmight’vejustbeenrippedoutofmyhands.
Becausewhenthetopicofcollegewasfirstbroachedafterthedivorce,myparentswereveryclearthatifIplannedongoingawaytoschool,Iwasgoingtohavetofindscholarships.Thedissolutionoftheirmarriagehadapparentlywreakedhavocontheirsavings,whatwithallthefightingthroughlawyersandsuch,sotherewasnothingsetasideformyeducation.
I’dtakenthattoheartanddedicatedmyselftoeducationalexcellence.Sincethatfatefulconversation,I’dearnedallAs,thrownmyselfintowritingfortheschoolnewspaper,andI’dtakentheACTfivetimeseventhoughmyscorehadbeenexemplarythefirsttime.
Everylittlepointcounted,afterall.
ButinordertogosomewherelikeNorthwestern—mydreamschool—withoutmyparentsbankrollingtheexcursion,Ineededperfection.Impeccableextracurriculars,lettersofrecommendation,aplethoraofvolunteerhours.Ineededeverything.
Andevenwiththose,Imightstillfallshort.
TheotherthingthatIdidn’tliketoadmittomyselfwasthatIdidn’twantJoshtobeatme.WehadthesameGPA—thesameweighted4.4GPA—anditirkedmewhenhepulledahead.Icouldn’tstandthesmuglookthatcrossedhisfacewhenhewaswinning,andifJoshwasdoingbetterthanme,affectionwasnotthefeelscomingoverme.
IspentafewmoreminutesgettingcontrolofmyemotionsbeforeIwipedatmyeyesandstood.ItwasValentine’sDay,dammit.Iwasgoingtosoakupeverygloriousminuteofthatandnotthinkabouttherestuntiltomorrow.
Thereweretwomorewritten-in-redeventsleftonmyto-dolist—giftexchangeandsayingthosethreebigwords.Iwasgoingtothrowmyselfintocheckingoffthoseboxesandforgettingtherest.CONFESSION#3
IhaveaperfectfakeID.
Betweenclasses,IstoppedatJosh’sfriendBlake’slockertoaskifhe’dseenmyboyfriend.I’dyettoconnectwithhiminpersononValentine’sDay,andIdesperatelyneededtoseehisface.TherewasnowayforustohavetheperfectdayI’dplannedifweweren’ttogether.
BlakewasleaningagainstthewallandtextingwhenIsaid,“HaveyouseenJosh?He’susuallyhangingoutinthecommonsbetweenclassesbutIdon’tseehimanywhere.”
“Nah.”Helookedovermyhead,appearing—asalways—likehedidn’tevenseeme.I’dneverfiguredoutifBlakehatedmeorifIscaredhim,anditdrovemetodistraction.ChrisalwayssaidIhadseriousissueswithneedingpeopletolikeme,andIalwaysconsideredhimtobewrongexceptforwhenIwasinthepresenceofBlake.
Hesaid,“Noideawhereheis.”
“Oh.Well,thanks.”Iturnedawayandfeltsillyjustforexisting.Blakewasoneofthoseguysthatmadeyoufeelthatway.
IfirstmetJoshwhenwewerebothselectedtobetutorsfortheMathLab.Weshowedupinthecounselors’officeattheexactsameminute,andIalmostswallowedmytonguewhenhesmiledandheldthedoorforme.Iknewwhohewas,butthenagain,whodidn’t?
JoshwastheItboyoftheeducationalexcellencecrowd.
NotonlywashearingerforthatswoonyactorwhosenamewasspelledTimotheewithtwoEs,buthehadhislifetogether.Debate,DECA,MockTrial—hewasn’tjustinthoseactivities,hewasthebestatthem.
Andheknewit.
Joshhadtheconfidentswaggerofonewhowaswhollypositivethatheknewmorethaneveryoneelseintheroom.HecasuallyreferencedShakespeareandSteinbeckwhilediscussingdailynothings,hecouldoftenbefoundconversingwithteachersinemptyclassroomsduringpassingperiods,andhedressedlikehewasalreadyacollegeprofessor,rightdowntothegoodleatheraccessories.
I’dbeensuckedinbyhissmile,butitwashisabilitytothoroughlyanalyzeTitusAndronicusthatmademefallforhim.Mostpeoplehadn’treadmyfavorite(andmostbrutal)Shakespearianplay,butitwashisfavoriteaswell.WebanteredforasolidtwentyminutesaboutTitusandTamorahandthehellscapethat’dbeenpatriarchalRome,andhe’dbeensoperfectlyperfectformethatI’dgoneforit.I’dsmiledandaskedhimifhewantedtostudywithmeafterschoolatStarbucks.
I’dhadtocallinsicktoworkinordertomakeithappenforus,butI’dknownitwouldbeworthit.Because,ineveryway,Joshwastheperfectguyforme.
IwasmopingmywaytomylockerwhenIhadanidea.WhatifIleftJosh’sgiftonthefrontseatofhiscar?Mr.Carsonusuallylethimditchstudyhalltogoonacoffeerunnextperiod,sothiswayIwouldn’thavetostandtherefeelingawkwardwhileheopeneditbecauseIwouldn’tbethere.Andoncehesawmyamazingpresentforhim,hewouldrushtofindmeandgivememine.
Isnuckoutthesidedoorandheadedforhiscar,a1959MGcoupethathe’drestoredwithhisdadandlovedmorethanlifeitself.MadehimfeelveryJamesBond.OnlywhenIgotclose,closeenoughtotouchthehoodornament,Isaw—
What?IsquintedintothebrightFebruarysunandlookedthroughhiswindshield.Joshwasinhiscar,sittingbehindthesteeringwheel.Buthewasn’talone.
Hewasfacingsomeoneonthepassengerseat.AllIcouldseethroughthewindowedreflectionwaslongblondhair.WhichhappenedtobethedefiningfeatureofMacyGoldman,thestunninglybeautifulgirlhe’dgoneoutwithbeforeme.TheengineturnedonandmademeliterallyjumpasIstoodtherestaring.
Mystomachfeltheavy,evenasItoldmyselftheywerejustfriends.Hewasgoingonacoffeerun,andsheprobablywantedcoffeetoo,andwasridingalongtohelphimbringitallback.
Iwasabouttowalkoverandknockonthewindowwhenithappened.Iwasstandingtherewiththatboxinmyhand,thatboxwrappedupinbrightredheartwrappingpaper,whensheleanedclosertohimandbroughtherhandsuptohisface.
Frozen,Iwatchedassheheldhischeeksinherpalms,andthenkissedhim.Mybreathstoppedinmychestasthemomentheld—Pushheraway,pushheraway,please,Josh—andthen.
Then.
AsIstoodthereinthefreezingparkinglot,grippingJosh’spresent,hekissedMacyback.
“NO!”
Ihadn’trealizedI’dsaiditoutlouduntiltheirheadsjerkedapartandtheybothlookedatme.Joshimmediatelythrewopenhisdoor,butIwasn’tstickingaroundtotalk.Iturnedandheadedbacktowardthebuilding.
“Em,wait!”
Icouldhearhisfootsteps,andthenhishandwasonmyarm,stoppingme.Heturnedmearound,andIblinkedbacktearsandmanagedtosay,“What?”
Joshranahandthroughhishair,lookingconfused.“Shekissedme,Em!”Hisbreathpuffedinfrontofhisfaceashespokequickly.“I’msureitlookedawful,butIswearonmylife.Shekissedme.”
Hehadtearsinhiseyes,too,andIwantedtopunchhiminthemouth.IwassupposedtobesayingIloveyou,yetherlipglosswasonhismouth.
“Youhavetobelieveme,Em.”
“Getawayfromme,”Isaidthroughgrittedteeth,turningandleavinghimbehindintheparkinglot.CONFESSION#4
Ioncestuckaflyswatterintoaneighbor’soscillatingfan,justtoseewhatwouldhappen.Itblewapart.
Itwasn’tuntilafterIpretendedIwasabouttovomit—completewiththecoveringofthemouthandtherunningforthebathroom—thatIconvincedthenursetosignapasstoletmegohome.
Anditwasn’tuntilafterIhadthepassthatIrememberedInolongerhadacar.
Soontopofeverythingelse,Ihadtowalkhome.Itwastwenty-threedegreesoutsideandtherewassnowontheground,yetIwasgoingtobetrudgingthroughdriftsinanklebootiesandashirtdress.
NickStarkhadbeenright.Iwasdressedridiculously.
IshovedthepassintomybackpackandwasabouttoexitthebuildingwhenIheard,“Emilie!”
IturnedaroundandtherewasMacyGoldman,walkingtowardme.Iwantedtojustignoreher,ormaybepullherhair,butatwistedpartofmewantedtohearwhatshehadtosay.
“Listen.”Sheranuptome,breathless,andsaid,“IjustwantyoutoknowthatJoshisn’tlying.Wewereabouttogetcoffee,justtalkinginhiscar,andIwastheonewholeanedinandkissedhim.Thereisnothinggoingonbetweenus.”
Iregrettedlisteningtoher,becauseupclose,shewasevenprettierthanshewasfromadistance.
“Itwasallme,”shesaid.“Hedidnothingwrong.”
“So.”Ifeltsurprisinglynumbasshelookedupatmewithanervousexpression.“Youstilllikehim,then?”
Thatmadeherlooksuperuncomfortable.Shepressedherlipstogetherbeforesaying,“Well,Imean—”
“Forgetit.”Ishookmyhead,suddenlyexhaustedwitheverything.“Itdoesn’tmatter.”
“Yes,itdoes,becauseJosh—”
“Ican’ttalktoyourightnow.”Iturnedandexitedthebuilding.
I’dwantedlovethatwasbetterthanmyparents’love,somethingthatwasbuilttolast.Thatwouldn’tendwiththeneighborscallingthecopswhenmymombrokeoffstatue-Cupid’sheadandthrewitatmydad.Butnow,IfeltasheartbrokenasIdidonthatterribleday.
Istartedtrudginghome,tryingtoholdittogetherasthewinterwindwhippedatmyface.ThankGodmydadlivedinthenextsubdivision;anyfartherandfrostbitemight’vebeenyetanothersurpriseIcould’veaddedtothatmomentousValentine’sDay.
Myphonebuzzed,andIwantedtoscreamwhenIsawitwasmybossagain.Ialwayshelpedhimoutwhennooneelsewould,sohealwayscalledmebecauseheknewIcouldn’tsayno.Iputmyphoneawaywithoutanswering.
WhenIfinallygothome,Iwassurprisedtoseemydad’scarinthedriveway.Hewasusuallyatworkthattimeofday.
Iunlockedthefrontdoorandwentintothelivingroom.“Hello?Dad?”
Hepeekedaroundthewalloftheden.“Hey,squirt;whyareyouhome?”
“Um.Igotsick.”
“Youokay?”
Inodded,althoughIwasn’tatallokay.Itwasthedaywhereitwasallsupposedtohappenforme.Foronce,insteadofsadlycommemoratingtheanniversaryofmyfamilysplittingoffintotwoseparateunits,Iwassupposedtofeeltherushandsaythewords.I’ddonemyhomework,I’dfoundtheperfectguy,andtodayhadbeenearmarkedforlove
Now,however,itappearedasthoughI’dfinishthedaywithoutsayingorhearingthosethreewords.I’dprobablyfinishitwithastomachache,buriedunderapileofSnickerswrappers.
MaybeIneededtograbmyplannerandaddthattomyto-dolist.
“Well,I’mactuallygladyou’rehere,becauseIwanttotalktoyouaboutsomethingbeforetheboysgethome.”
“Okay…?”
“Sitdown.”Hegesturedformetogointotheden,andwhenIdid,heploppeddownontotheloveseatandpattedthespotbesidehim.“Idon’tevenreallyknowhowtosaythis.”
Howmanytimescouldonepersonhearthatinaday?
“Justsayit.”Iploppeddownnexttohim,closedmyeyes,andpicturedJoshkissingher.MacyGoldman.“Howbadcanitbe?”
Heletoutabreath.“I’vebeenofferedapromotion,butitrequireswemovetoHouston.”
Myeyesopened.“Texas?”
“Texas.”
“Oh.Wow.”ThatwaslikefifteenhoursawayfromOmaha.BeforeIcouldsayanythingelse,hesaid—
“Afteralotofsoul-searching,I’vedecidedtotakethejob.”
Hiswordswereapunchtothegut.Howwashisfifty-fiftycustodysupposedtoworkfromtheothersideofthecountry?Itookashakybreathandsaid,“Youhave?”
“Yep.”Hegavemeawide,genuinesmile,likehewasthrilledaboutthenewsandnotatallworriedaboutmenotsharinghiswildenthusiasm.“It’sagreatopportunity,andyouknowLisa’swholefamilyisfromGalvestonsoit’dbenicefortheboystobeclosertotheirgrandparents.You’regoingawaytocollegesoon,soreally,itwon’taffectyouthatmuch.”
“Inayearandahalf.I’mgoingtocollegeinayearandahalf.”Iclearedmythroatandburrowedalittledeeperintothesofa,tryingnottosoundemotionalasIasked,“Whenwouldyoubemoving?”
“Nextmonth.ButyourmotherandItalkedaboutit,andweboththinkthatsinceyou’resixteen,you’reoldenoughtodecidewhatyouwanttodo.”
Myheadwasspinning.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Well,sinceyou’regraduatingnextyear,I’msureyoudon’twanttomoveandstartanewschool.Wediscussedit,andwithoutfighting—Iknow,surprising,right?—cametothedecisionthatyoucanstayherewithheruntilyougotocollegeifthat’swhatyouwant.”
“What’smyotheroption?”
Helookedsurprisedbymyquestion,probablybecauseheknewhowintoJoshandmyfriendsandschoolIwas.“Well,”hestarted,runningahandoverthetopofhishead,“youcancertainlymovesouthwithus.Ijustassumedthatwouldn’tbeyourchoice.”
Iblinkedfastandfeltalittlesuffocated,likewaveswerewashingovermynoseandIcouldn’tcatchmybreath.MydadandhisperfectnewfamilyweremovingtoTexas.Andhehadnoqualmsaboutleavingmebehind.
Howcouldheevenconsidermovingacrossthecountrywithoutme?Inhisdefense,thedynamicsbetweenmyparentsandmeweresodysfunctionalthatheprobablyhadnoideahowmuchhemeanttome.
Ihadalwaysbeena“good”kid,thekindofkidthatparentsdidn’thavetoworryabout.Myhomeworkwasalwaysdone,Inevertalkedback,Ialwaysfollowedtherules,andIhappilywentalongwithwhateveryoneelsewanted.Inanormalnuclearfamily,thatkindofstuffmadeparentsproud,right?
Butinafamilysuchasmine,itmademeforgettable.
Mypost-divorcedadhadanewhouse,anewwife,andtwoshinynewlittlemunchkins;afuller-than-fulllife.Andmypost-divorcemomhadanewhouse,anewhusband,apugglethatshetreatedlikeababy,andashinynewcareerthatwasmoretime-consumingthananactualhumanchild.Sothatleftmetoplaytheunfortunateroleoftheleftoversfromtheirpreviousmarriagewhojustschleppedbackandforthbetweenresidences,showinguponmycourt-assigneddaysandsomehowsurprisingthemwithmypresence.
IcannotcountthenumberoftimesI’denteredoneoftheirhousesonlytohearsomeonesay,Oh,Ithoughtyouwereatyourdad’s/mom’stoday.Ialsocannotcounthowmanyparent-teacherconferencesanddentistappointmentsweremissedbecausetheyeachassumedtheotherwastakingme.OrthetimesIcrashedatmygrandma’swithouttellingeitherofthemandnooneevercalledtoseewhereIwas.
Iwassogoodthatmyparentsdidn’thavetoworryaboutme.
Sotheydidn’t.
Atall.
Thatbeingsaid,thetwoofthemwerefarfromequal.MymomwasDrivenwithacapitalD.Shewasallwork,allthetime,andsheseemedtothinkherprimaryroleasaparentwastoensureIbehavedtheexactsameway.Mydad,ontheotherhand,wasfunny,chill,andsweetlyconcernedaboutmewhenhewasn’tdistractedbyhislovelynewlife.Whenweweretogether,wewerestillthesameclose-knitfather-daughterduothatwe’dalwaysbeen.Iadoredmydad.
HejustsometimesforgotaboutmeifIwasn’tstandingrightinfrontofhim
Hewaslookingatmeintently,clearlywaitingformyanswer.Didatinypartofhimwantmetogowithhim?Or—didatinypartofhimwantmetoNOTgowithhim?Ishruggedandworkedforasmile.“I’mgoingtoneedtothinkonthisonealittle.”
Henoddedinagreementandshiftedtheconversationtomywreckedcar.He’dseenmytextatlunch,butbythenit’dbeentoolateforhimtocallme.Ilistenedtohislectureaboutpayingattentionandfollowingtooclosely,butallIcouldthinkaboutwasthefactthatIwasgoingtohavetomemorizewhatitsoundedlikewhenmydadgothomeeverydaysoIwouldn’tforget.
AllIcouldthinkaboutwasthefactthathewasabsolutelyfinewithleavingmebehind.Withthewomanhe’ddivorcedandcalled“impossibletolivewith.”
Iwentuptomyroomandcalledmygrandma.
“Hellooo?”
“Hey,Grandma.”Isniffledandtriedtokeepeverythinginside.IfeltlikeifIletgoforasecond,I’dneverbeabletostopcrying.“I,um,Ineedtocomeover.Canyoucomegetme?”
“Areyouatschool?”
“No.”Ilookedoutthewindowandnoticedthesunhaddisappearedbehindthecloudsandtheskywasjustdarkgray.“Thenursesentmehomeearly.I’matDad’s.”
Shemadeanoise.“Areyousick?”
Iwrappedmyarmsaroundmybody.“No.IsawJoshkissingsomeoneelsesoIfake-barfed.Ihadtogetoutofthere.”
“Thatlittleprick.I’monmyway.”
Twelveminuteslater,mygrandmapulledintothedrivewayinher’69Mustang.Iknewitwasherwithoutlookingbecauseherbelovedmurdered-outmusclecarrumbledlikeamotorbeast.Irandownthestairs.
“I’mgoingtoGrandmaMax’s.”
MydadlookedatmyfaceandheknewIwasupset.“Whenwillyoubehome?”
Igrabbedmybackpackfromthefloor.“ShesaidIcancrashthere.”
Lisacameoutofthekitchenlookingirritated—Ihadn’tevenheardhercomehome.“ButIjustputchickenintheoven.”
“Um,thanks.I’llheatituptomorrow.”
ShefrownedandgavemydadalookbeforeIescapedoutthedoor.CONFESSION#5
MygrandmataughtmetodoburnoutsinhercarwhenIwasfourteen.
“Thesoupwillbereadyintwentyminutes.”
“Soundsgood.”Ilayonthecrushed-velvetsofa,wrappedupinsadnessandthesmellofsoup,andstaredatthetelevision.“Thanks.”
“Youdoknow,darling,”mygrandmothersaid,carryinganafghanacrosstheroomandlayingitovermylegs,“thatyourworthisgreaterthanwhatJoshoranyotherboythinks.”
“Iknow.”ButIdidn’t.Ididn’twanttolistentoherbekindwhentherealitywasthatIwasn’tenoughforJosh.
He’dtextedmefivetimessinceI’dleftschool:
Canwetalk?
Didyouleave?
Meetmebymylockerafterschool—please?
Goingtogotothelibrarynow,butIdidnothingwrong,Em.Thisisn’tfair
NowI’mpissed.Callme.
Iwasjusttoobrokentoformulatewordsandsentencesinresponsetohisinquiries.EverytimeItried—andItriedeveryfiveminutesorso—IendedupcryingandpicturinghimkissingMacy.
“SometimesIdon’tunderstandwhyyoudon’topenyourmouthandsaythewordsthatareonyourtongue,”mygrandmasaid,walkingovertothekitchenandturningdownthestove.“Igettheprivilegeofhearingyouletloosewithyouranger.Othersshould,too.Youarenotthepeople-pleasingmouseyoupurportyourselftobe.Burnsomecitiesdownwithyourrage!”Herspeechwaspunctuatedwithheraggressivestirringofthesoup.
“Whatdoyouwantmetodo,Grandma?Justunloadonpeople?”
“Alittlebit,yes.”Sheglancedoverhershoulderatmeandsaid,“Quitworryingaboutmakingeveryoneelsehappy.”
“I’mnotgoodatitlikeyou.”GrandmaMaxwasfierceandabsolutelyincapableoflosinganargument.“It’seasiertojustsaywhatthepeoplewant.”
Shegrabbedtwobowlsoutofthecupboardandstartedfillingthemwithsoup.“Butdoesn’tthateatyouupinside?”
Ishrugged.Myinsideswereshredded,regardlessofhowtheygotthatway.IpicturedJoshandfeltmyheartliterallygetheavierinmybody.Becauseifhewasn’tamatchforme,whatdidIknowaboutlove…oranything?It’dbeenhourssinceI’dleftschool,andIfeltlikeIshouldbefindingsomeperspective,butinsteadIjustfeltempty.
Idroppedthethrowonthesofa,wentovertothetable,andsatbesidemygrandma,thinkingaboutthenewestawfuldecisionIhadtomake.I’dsatatthistablewithherhundredsoftimes.CouldIreallyleaveherandgotoTexas?Shesaidshe’dbefineifIdecidedtogo,butwouldI?Mygrandmawasoneofmybestfriends,andtheonlyoneIwasreadytotellaboutTexasyet.I’dliketosayIwasworriedabouthowmywidowedgrandmotherwouldsurvivewithoutmypresence,butitreallywastheotherwayaround.
Shetookabiteofhersoup.“Pepper!”
“What?”
Shewentovertothestoveandstartedmessingwiththestockpot.“Iwasdistractedandforgottoaddpepper.Grabsomeandsprinkleitinyourbowlbeforeyoutakeabite.”
“I’msureit’s—”
“Don’tbelazy.Gogetthepeppershakerinthechinacabinetandproperlyseasonyoursoup.”
Iwentovertothearmoireandpulledoutthetabby-catpeppershaker.“Idoubtpepperwillmakethatbigofadifference.”
“Hushandshake.”
Ishookpepperintomybowl,satdown,andliftedmyspoontomymouth.Butinsteadoftastinggrandmotherlydeliciousness,mymouthwasinstantlyonfire.Inaverybadway.
“Gah!”Ifeltashockgothroughmyentirebody.MyspoonfelltothefloorandIgrabbedtheglassofmilkshe’dsetbesidemybowl.Igulpeddowneverydrop,butmymouthwasstillburning.Iranovertothekitchensinkandputmylipsunderthefaucet,turningitonandsuckingdowneverywet,extinguishingdropIcouldget.
“DearLord,Emilie,whathasgottenintoyou?Didyouover-pepperyoursoup?”
Iwipedmylipswiththebackofmyhand.Mymouthwasstillsimmering,butitnolongerfeltlikemysalivawasgoingtoeatawayatmyteeth.“Idon’tknowwhat’sinthatshaker,Grandma,butitisn’tpepper.MymouthstilltasteslikefireandIbarelyusedany.”
“Oh,my.”GrandmaMax’seyesnarrowed.“Youusedthetabbyshaker?”
“Ithasa‘P’onit.”
Hereyesgotalittletwinkle,eventhoughshedidn’tsmile.“Thatatrociouspeppershakerwasaweddinggiftfrommymother-in-law.IthaslivedinmycabinetsinceIreceiveditfiftyyearsago.Ididn’tevenknowithadanythinginit.”
“AreyoutellingmethatIjustatewhateverwasinsideoftheshakerwhenGreat-GramLeonaboughtit?Ahalf-centuryago?”
Shecoughedaroundalaugh.
“Whatifitwasthose‘DoNotEat’silicapellets?”
Mygrandmawalkedovertothetableandshooksomeintoherpalm.“No.”Sheliftedherhandandsniffed.“Itappearstobepepper,justveryoldpepper.”
“Fifty-year-oldpepper.Perfect.”Mymouthtastedlikethebottomofadumpster.“That’sit.I’mgoingtobed.”
“Butit’sonlyseveno’clock.”
“Iknow,butIfeellikeeveryminuteI’mawakeonthisnightmarishdayisadangertomylife.Sofar,thisValentine’sDayhaswreckedmycar,revokedmyfellowship,stolenmyboyfriend,movedmydadfaraway,andpossiblypoisonedme.I’mgoingtoreadmyselftosleepbeforethingsgetanyworse.”
“Ifinditunlikelythatthingscouldgetanyworse.”
“Right?”IwalkedovertothelinenclosetandgrabbedtheclearbagofbeddingthatGrandmaalwayskeptcleanformysleepovers.“ButI’merringonthesideofcaution,justincase.”CONFESSION#6
I’veleftmyinitialssomewhereinsideofeverylibrarybookI’vecheckedoutsincethesecondgrade.
THESECONDVALENTINE’SDAY
Whenmyphonestartedplaying“WalkingonSunshine”atsixo’clock,Iblinkedandsquintedtoseemyphoneinthedark.Six?IfeltlikeIhadn’tsleptatall.LikeI’djustgoneto—
Wait,what?
Istaredattheglow-in-the-darkstickersI’dputonmyceilinginmiddleschool.WhenhadIcomehome?Ipushedbackthecoversandgotoutofbed,lookingatLogan’swide-openlittlemouthashelaysprawledacrossmymattress.IrememberedgoingtobedatGrandma’sthenightbefore,butIcouldn’trememberleavingherhouse.
I’dbeenwipedout,though.Thedayfromhellhadsuckedeverybitoflifefromme,soitwasentirelypossibleI’dbeensooutofitthatIdidn’trememberGrandmabringingmehome.
Iglancedatmyplanner,lyingopentoFebruary14onmydesk,justlikeit’dbeenthedaybefore.
To-DoList—February14
Reorganizescholarshipplanningbinder
StudyforLittest
RemindMomtoemailcopyofinsurancecardtooffice
RemindDadofparent-teacherconferencesandmakesureheputsitonhiscalendar
Sendemailtointernshipadviser
ExchangegiftswithJosh
Say“Iloveyou”toJosh!!!!!!!!!!!
IblinkedfastaseverythingfromValentine’sDayrushedback.JoshandMacy,thesummerprogram,mydad—everysinglepartofmylifewasdemolishedinjustoneday.
Iquicklyflippedthepageandjottedanew—andsuckier—to-dolist.Theitemsthathadn’tbeendecimatedthedaybeforeactuallyhadn’tbeencompleted,whichneverhappened.Iwasusuallyastickleraboutcheckingthoseboxes,buttheValentine’sDayshitshowhadmademeforgetmyplannerentirely.
To-DoList—February15
TalktoJoshaboutthekiss
MakedecisiononTexasmove
Reorganizescholarshipplanningbinder
StudyforLittest
RemindMomtoemailcopyofinsurancecardtooffice
RemindDadofparent-teacherconferencesandmakesureheputsitonhiscalendar
Igrabbedmyrobeandwentintothebathroomtoshower.Istartedthewaterandsteppedin,lettingitpourovermyhead,scaldingandslidingdownmyneckastearsinvoluntarilystartedupagain.
“Em,areyoualmostdoneinthere?”
Seriously?“Ijustgotinhere.”
“Joelneedstogopotty.”Lisasoundedlikehermouthwasonceagainplantedonthedoor.“Bad.”
“Thereisabathroomupstairs.”Iforcefullysquirtedshampoointomyhand.Iwasn’tinthemoodforabattle.Notafteryesterday.
“Yourdad’sinthere.”
Iwasgoingtostranglesomeonewithmybathsponge.“Justthisonce,canyoumaybeaskmydadtogetout?Ididn’tgetmuchsleeplastnightandIreallyneedthisshower.”
“Youknowhowyourdadisinthemorning.”
Holy.Balls.“Givemetwominutes!”Irushedthroughtherestoftheshower,mutteringthroughgrittedteethlikeagrumpyoldmanwhileslammingbottlesdownashardasIpossiblycould.
Backinmyroom,Iblow-driedmyhairbeforeslidingintocomfypantsandmyfavoriteNorthwesternhoodie,awardrobeselectionmadewhollyoutofpoutiness.Iwantedabsolutelyzerohumaninteraction,soIputonheadphonesasIenteredthekitchen.NowaywasIgoingtodiscussthewholeTexasthingwithoutalittlemoresleep.
Luckilynoonewasinthekitchen,soIwolfeddownabarasfastasIcouldwhilereadingthenextchapteroftheChristinaLaurenbookthatI’dpromisedtoreturntoRoxwhenIgottoschool.MaybeifIfinishedquickly,Iwouldn’thavetoseeanotherper—
“GoodLord,slowdown.”Mydadwalkedinwiththenewspaperinhishand.“NoonehereknowstheHeimlich.”
Ipulledtheheadphonesdowntomyneck.“Ha,ha.”Yesterdaywashilarious.Funny,funnystuff,Dad
“So.”HegrabbedamugfromthecupboardandputitundertheKeurig.“Didyouwrapuptheway-too-expensivepresentyouboughtforol’Josh?Lotsofcheesyredheartsand‘Iloveyou’s?”
“What?”Iswallowedandthebarfeltstuckinmythroat.“YouwanttoknowifIwrappedhispresent?Yesterday?”
Heraisedaneyebrowandpushedthemiddlebutton.“Ijustassumedyou’dbeallampedforValentine’sDay,butIseeyou’rewearingsweatsandlookinggrouchy,somaybenot.DidImisssomething?”
Whatwasheeventalkingabout?IhadnoideasoIjustwentwith—“Youknowwhathappenswhenyouassume,right?”
“Yeah,someone’sanass.”
“Oh,comeon,youguys.”LisacameintothekitchenwithLoganononehip,Joelontheother.“Canwepleasenotsweararoundthebabies?”
Weretheykiddingme?
“Theyweren’tinherewhenhesaidit,remember?”
“Andtechnically,”mydadsaid,throwingmeawinkexactlythewayhe’ddonethedaybefore,“?‘ass’isn’tabadword.It’sadonkey.”
IfeltmyeyessquinchupasIlookedatmydadandthenatLisa.Weretheytryingtobefunny,orsomething?Yeah,no—shestilllookedatmeasifshewishedIwoulddisappear.
Igrabbedmybackpackandmycarkeysbeforerememberingthevan.“Aw,jeez,Iforgotaboutthewreck.Caneitherofyougivemearidetoschool?”
“Whatwreck?”LisasetJoeldownandshiftedLogantoherotherhip,lookingatmydad.“Shewreckedthevan?”
BeforeIcouldanswer,mydadsaid,“No,shedidn’twreckthevan.Ijustwentoutandscrapedthewindows,remember?”
“Well,then,whatdidshemeanaboutthewreck?”Lisalookedathim,andhelookedatmeandsaid,“Noidea.Whatdidyoumean,Em?”
Ilookedaroundhimandoutthekitchenwindow.There,inthedriveway,wasmyAstrovanwiththewindowsscraped.Ipointed.“Wheredidthatcomefrom?”
“What,yourcar?”MydadlookedatmelikeIwasbeingagoof.Hedidn’tlook—atall—likesomeonewhowasprankingme.“I’dsayDetroit.Youknow,becauseGM…?”
IglancedatLisaandshetiltedherheadalittleandcrinkledhereyebrows.“Em?”
“Um,I,uh,Iwasjustmessing.”Itriedforasmileandpushedtowardthedoor.“I’vegottogo.”
ThesunwasbrightwhenIsteppedoutsideandIsquintedasIcarefullywalkedinthefreshsnowbythefrontofmycar.Notonlywasitnotsmashed,butitdidn’tevenhaveasingle,solitaryscratchonit.
How?
Iclimbedinsideandstarteditup,mymindscramblingtofigureoutwhatthedealwas.MyphonebuzzedandIpulleditoutofmypocket.ChrisandRoxwereFaceTimingme.
Ipressedthebuttontoanswerandtheretheywere,lookingexactlyastheyhadthedaybefore,facessquishedtogetherinthejuniorhallway.
“GuesswhatIjustsaw?”Chrisasked.
“Iwanttotell,”Roxwhined,pushingathimwhilegrinning.
“Ican’ttalkrightnow—I’llcallyouback.”IdisconnectedasmymindflippedoverlikeaT-shirtinadryer.Thingswerebonkersallofasudden.IbackedoutofFaceTime,andmyeyeslandedonthecalendaronmyphone.
FEB14
Myphonesaiditwas“FEB14.”But…itwasn’t.Itwasthefifteenth.
Right?
Outloud,Isaid,“Hey,Siri,whatistoday’sdate?”andherlittleroboticvoiceconfirmed—itwasthefourteenth.
Huh?
Istarteddrivingtowardschool,confused,untilithitme.
IdreamedabouttheveryterribleValentine’sDay.Ihadbeenexcitedlylookingforwardtothebigday;itmadesenseIwoulddreamaboutit,right?ItwaslikewhenlittlekidsdreamaboutChristmas.
SoIhadn’talreadyhadaterribleValentine’sDay;ithadallbeenjustabadandslightlypsychicdream.
Iletoutabigbreathandsmiled.
Iflooredit,becauseIcouldn’twaittoseeJosh.IwishedI’doptedforbetterthanabaggysweatshirt,butthatdidn’tseemimportantanymorebecauseIstillhadhim.Icouldalreadypicturehim,lookingallcuteinoneofhisplaidbutton-downs,hangingoutinthecommons,andIcouldn’twaittobebyhissideandshakeoffthewildlybaddream.
MyphonebuzzedonthepassengerseatandIglancedover.Josh
HappyVD,baby.Areyouhereyet?
Ha!That’sexactlywhathe’dtypedinmydr—
Ilookedupandthetruckinfrontofmehadstopped.Noooooo!Islammedmyfootonthebrake,butitdidn’thelp.
IhitNick’suglytruck—again.
Justlikeinmydream
Igotout.
“Youweretexting,weren’tyou?”
“Please,notagain.”
“Youweretexting.Admitit.”
“NickStark,sohelpmeGod,Imightthroat-punchyouifyousaythatagain.”
Thistimeheraisedhiseyebrows.“Comeagain?”
Mybraintriedtowraparoundwhatwashappening.Ipointedatmyselfandsaid,“EmilieHornby,yourlabpartner.AndIwasn’ttexting.”
HeactuallygrinnedwhenIsaidthat,thecornersofhismouthturningupashiseyesmovedovermyface.“Youdoingokayhere?”
“Wonderful.”Irolledmyeyesandwentthroughthemotions,everythingeerilythesameasthedaybefore.Itwasobvioushedidn’tthinkhe’devermetmebefore,andIfeltcloudyasIstruggledtofigureitout.MyhandshookasIhandedovermyinsurancecard.Wasthisdéjàvu?HadIdreamedaboutValentine’sDay?
WasIactuallypsychic?
Ididn’tevenattempttocallmyparentswhenthecopsandthetowtruckarrived.IsilentlyacceptedhisprofferedcoatandrodetoschoolwithNick,whomust’vesensedmyinnerturmoilbecausehedidn’tsayaword.IlistenedtoMetallicabarkingoutthelyricsto“Blackened,”andthistimethemusicseemedabitmorefitting.ItperfectlyaccentuatedmyWTFmorning.
AsNickdrove,Istudiedhisprofile.Hisdarkhair,prominentAdam’sapple,hardjawline,tallbody—allthesameasinmydream.
Justforfun,Ilookedoutthewindowandsaid,“IloveMetallicasomuch.”
Hiseyebrowswentstraightup.“Seriously?”
Notatallseriously.ButIhadtotesttheupside-down,repetitive-dayuniverse,didn’tI?“Sure.Iliketheirrage—it’salmostlikeyoucanfeelit,y’know?”
Hismouthturnedallthewayupandhelookedatmelikeweweresoulmates.“Wellsaid,Hornby.”
IlookedbackathimandwonderedhowIwouldevergetoutofthedreamsequence.Wasitmyfatetocrashintohimeverymorningforallofeternity?Iknewthatcouldn’tberightandtherehadtobesomeexplanation,butIwasreallystartingtogetfreakedout.I’llpretendthatI’mallrightandeverythingwillbefine—it’dalwaysworkedformeinthepast.Whenwegottoschool,Istoodonshakylegsaftergettingoutofhistruck.Idon’tknowwhy,butasIhandedbackhiscoat,Iaskedhim,“Everythingisgoingtobeokay,right?”
Helookeddownatthecoatforaminute,likehewastryingtointerpretmyquestion.“Sure.Whywouldn’tit?”CONFESSION#7
Ifailedswimminglessonsseventimesbeforemymomfinallygaveuponme.
Everythingatschoolwasthesameasthedaybefore.Igotcalledtotheofficeandlostthesummerprogram.ThenIwentoutsideandsawJoshandMacy.Honestly,Idon’tknowwhyIevenwenttohiscar—maybeIsomehowthoughtI’dseenitwrongthefirsttime.MaybeIthoughtI’dseesomethingthatwouldexplainitallaway.Idon’tknowwhatIwashopingfor,butallIendedupwithwasanevengreatersenseofrejection.
BecausethistimeInoticedhowintoherhelookedashewatchedhertalkingtohiminthefrontseat.ThistimeInoticedjusthowbeautifulshewas,sittingthereinherwhitesweaterwithherblondhairframingherfacelikeaBarbiehalo.
Iturnedandwentbackinsidebeforethekisscouldhappen,alittlesurprisedthatitwasnolesspainful.Imight’vethoughtit’dbeeasierwithawarning,butitwasn’t.Itstillfeltlikemyentiresolarplexuswasbeingcrushedbyacar.BecauseI’ddoneeverythingright,anditstillwasn’tenough.
Ikeptmyeyesdownandheadedforthenurse’soffice.Ididn’twanttotalktoanyone,orworse,haveanyoneseethetearsthatwereblurringmyvision.IalmostmadeitoutofthebluehallwaywhenIheard,“Em.Waitup!”
Istoppedbutdidn’traisemyeyes.Icouldn’t.
Chrisgrabbedmyelbow.“Sotelluswhathegotyou!”
“Em?”Roxane’skneesbentandthenherfacewaslowerthanmine.Imust’velookedprettypatheticbecauseshesaid,“Oh,honey,whathappened?”
Iblinkedfastandshookmyhead.Shegrabbedmyarmandyankedmeintothegirls’bathroom.Chrisfollowed,ashehadmanytimesbefore,grabbingapapertowelanddampeningitbeforewipingatmysmearedmakeup.
“Wedon’tcrytearsofmascarainthebathroom,remember?”hesaid,givingmeanempatheticpout.
Ijustnodded.Suddenly,Iwasincapableofwords.
“Iknewhewasgoingtoturnouttobeanasshole.”Christossedthepapertowelandputhisarmsaroundme.“He’stoocuteandcharmingtobethatcuteandcharming.Whowasit?”
Ijustshookmyhead.“Itdoesn’tmatter,doesit?MacyGoldman,butIthink—”
Theybothgroaned.
“What?”Ipulledawayandcrossedmyarms.“Itisn’taboutthewho,it’saboutthefactthathediditatall.Macyisirrelevant.”
Chris’srighteyebrowwentup.“Yeah,okay.”
IlookedatRox.“Seriously.”
RoxanegaveChrisamatchingeyebrow-raise.“She’sinshockanddoesn’tknowwhatshe’ssaying.”
“Yes,Ido!”
“Thenbehonest,here.Beingcheatedonsucks,period.”Chrisputhishandsinthepocketsofhistrendyleatherjacket.“Butbeingcheatedonwiththemostperfectgirlinschoolis,like,awhole’notherlevel.”
“?‘’Nother.’?”Roxpulledapieceofgumoutofherpurseandputitinhermouth.“Isnot.Aword.”
“Itistoo.”
Roxcrossedherarms.“I’veshowedyouthedictionarypagethatisnot-shockinglyabsentofa‘’nother’entry,andI’vedraggedyouintoMs.Brand’sHonorsEnglishclassandgarneredherprofessionalopinion.Which,ofcourse,wasinmyfavor.Becauseitisnotaword.Itiswhatconfusedredneckssaywhentheyaren’tsurewhethertheyshouldsay‘other’or‘another.’?”
Somehowtheirbickeringdriedupmytears.Itwasnormal.Routine.ItwashowthethreeofusbehavedonadailybasiswhenValentine’sDaysweren’tbeingleftonrepeat.Isaid,“Hey,I’mgoingtotakeoff.Thanksformakingmefeelbetter.”
“Didwedothat?”Christiltedhisheadandloweredhiseyebrows.
“Idid.”Roxpushedhimoutofthewayandgavemeaquickhug.
Ilookedatthembothandwassofreakinggratefultheyweremyfriends.
Chrissaid,“MymomismakingBBQtonight—youshouldcomeover.”
Hismom’sbarbecuewasdelicious.I’dalwaysconsideredmyselfpickyuntilIstartedhangingoutathishouse.HismotherwasKorean,andherfoodsmelledsogoodthatbeforeI’devenhadachancetobepicky,Iwaseatingkimchi,bibimbap,andmandoo—whilebeggingformoredinnerinvites.“MaybeIwill,Idon’tknow.”
Roxsaid,“Gohomeandbinge-watchthatfilthyshowIwastellingyouabout.It’llmakeyoufeelbetter.”
IfeltmarginallybetterwhenIwenttothenurse’soffice,andwalkingtomydad’swaslessfrigidthanit’dbeenthedaybeforebecauseIwasn’tinadress.Theentiretimewayhome,Iwentoverandoverthequestionableeventsofthepasttwenty-fourorforty-eightorwhateverhours.
“Whatinthehellisgoingon?”Ishoutedtothesnowy,frozenhousesthatwerequietinthewaythatsuburbanneighborhoodswerequietonweekdaysasIwalkeddownthestreet.“Howisthishappening?”
TheonlyexplanationwasthatIwashavingadreamthatverysecond.Iwashavingavivid,realisticdream—abouthavingavivid,realisticdream—andIjustneededtowakeupfromit.
Ipinchedmyself,and—
Ow.Shit
IgothomeandlistenedtomydadtellmeaboutTexas,andIwenttomygrandma’sandlethertakecareofmeagain,justlikethedaybefore.
Assoonasitgotdark,IwentoutonherporchandwishedoneverysinglestarIcouldseethatwhenIwokeupinthemorning,thingswouldbefixed.OnceIwentinside,shetoldmetopeppermysoupandIhadanidea.
Itwasprettyoutthere,butsowaseverythingelse.
Iwentovertothearmoireandpulledoutthetabby-catpeppershaker.“Hmm.”
“Hushandshake.”
“Noway.”Ilookedatthatbitchy-looking,badly-paintedfelineandwondered.“Whatifitwasthehalf-centurypepper?”
“Pardon?”
“Thepeppermighthavecausedthis.Inmovies,it’salwaysweirdexposurestorandomthingslikeperfumeoroldsnowballsthatcausetimeloopstohappen.”
“Ithinkthetragediesofthedayhavetakenatollonyourlogic.Perhapsyoushould—”
“Listen.Grandma.IfItellyousomethingthatseemsimpossible,doyoupromisenottojudgeme?”
Shenodded,satbackdownatthetable,andpattedthechairbesideher.Iploppeddownandscootedcloser,butdidn’tevenknowwheretostart.“Iknowthissoundsimpossible.”
“Justtellme,dear.”
“Um,okay.YouknowhowtodayisValentine’sDay?”
“Yes?”
“Well,whatifItoldyouthatyesterdaywasValentine’sDayforme,andtodaywasatotalrepeat?”
Shecrossedherarms.“Isitpossiblethatit’sjustdéjàvu?”
Ishookmyhead.“Ithoughtthesamethingatfirst,butIknowthatthingsaregoingtohappenbeforetheydo.”
“Like…?”
“LikeIknewJoshwasgoingtocheattodaybecauseIalreadywatchedhimdoityesterday.IknewIwaslosingthesummerscholarshipbecauseIalreadydidyesterday.IknowthatGreat-GramLeonagaveyouthatuglycatpeppershakerasaweddinggiftbecauseyoutoldmethatyesterday,andIalsoknowthatifyoucheckmyphonetherewillbeanewmessagefromJoshthatsays‘Callme.NowI’mpissed.’?”
Thatmadehereyebrowsgoup.
“Myphonehasbeeninmybackpackoutinyourcarsinceyoupickedmeup;Ihaven’tlookedatitsinceIcalledyou.Gogetitandlet’sseeifI’mright.”
Hereyestraveledallovermyfacebeforeshestoodandwentoutintothegarage.IwassuresheprobablythoughtIwasdelusionalandwashumoringme,butitfeltgoodtotellsomeoneaboutmyupside-downlife.Whenshecamebackin,shewasholdingmyphoneandstaringatitindisbelief.
“So…?”
“DearLord,Emilie,we’dbettergogetalotteryticket,don’tyouthink?”CONFESSION#8
WhenIwasten,Iusedtosneakintomynext-doorneighbor’sbackyardonsummerdaysandswimintheirhottubwhentheywereatwork.Nooneeverknew.
YETANOTHERVALENTINE’SDAY
Theminutemyalarmwentoff,Iknewforcertainthatthewholethingwasreal.
Ilaythereinmybed,cocoonedintheheavinessofmydowncomforterandstaringupattheceiling,notwantingtoleavemypillow-softbedandfaceit.BecauseeventhoughIdidn’thaveaclueaboutthehoworwhy,Iwasdefinitelylivinginaday-on-repeatloop.I’dgonetosleepatGrandmaMax’s,yethereIwasagain,wakingupinmyownroomtothatannoyingsongJoshhadprogrammedintomyiPhonetowakemeup.
IglancedoveratLogan,soundasleepwithhismouthwide-open.
Yep—beenhere,donethis.
Isatupandreachedformyphone.AndIthought,Whatiftheuniversewantsmetofixsomething?
Ididn’tbelieveinfateandkarmaandthatsortofnonsense,butIalsodidn’tknowhowtoexplainwhatwashappening.
SomehowIwasrelivingthesamedayforathirdtime.
WhatiftheserepeatingValentine’sDaysweren’tkarmicpunishmentforsomethingIdidinapastlifeorsomeotherhorriblereason?Whatifthey’reagift,anopportunitytorightadaythatwentsoverywrong?
Itwasworthashot,right?
Yes.ThatwaswhatIwasgoingtodo.
IworkedthroughitallinmymindwhileItookashower(fastbecauseofJoel’spottyneeds,ofcourse),tickingoffallthethingsIneededtocorrectfromthepreviousday.ThenIcreatedanewto-dolist.
To-DoList—February14(again)
Avoidwreckingcar
Avoidscholarshipmeetingincounselor’soffice
EnsureJoshandMacycannotkiss
ConvinceDadthathedoesn’twanttomovetoTexas
Howhardcouldallofthatbe,right?
AfterIshowered,Islidintomyluckyplaiddress.Itwasn’tnewandadorableliketheshirtdressfromtheoriginalValentine’sDay,butifeverIneededtheluckofthedressthathadscoredmemyhighestACTscore,itwastoday.Ipaireditwithtightsandmysuedeboots—warmerthanthedaybefore,butstillcute—andheadedforthedoor.
AsIdrovetowardtheschool,Iwashyperfocusedonthesnow-slushedroad.Myphonewasnestleddeepinmybag,myhandscarefullyplacedattenandtwo.Iwastravelingintheleft-handlane,whereasI’dbeenintherightontheotherdays,soIwasallsetuptonotcrashintoNickStark.
TaylorSwiftwassingingaboutConeyIslandwhileIdroveascarefullyasastudentdriverontestday.Itwasimperative,inmyopinion,thatIrectifythiseasiestofcomplications.Ilefttwocar-lengthsbetweenmycreepervanandthesilverminivaninfrontofme,confidentIwasgoingtomissNickentirelyandstartthedayright.
DidIpaintyourbluestskiesthedarkestgray?
Trafficwasmovingprettywellinspiteofthesnow,andIstartedtorelaxonceIpassedtheintersectionwhereI’dhithimthedaybefore.Steponeofmyplan—nottotalingmycar—wascomplete.Icouldalmostfeelthetensiondrainingoutofmewhenallofasudden,ahugesemi-truckblastedpastonmyright,shootingslushallovermywindshield.
Totallyblindingme.
“Dammit!”
IhitthebrakesasIflippedonthewipers,butmytireslockedonthepackedsnowandIcouldn’tstop.Inaninstant,Isaweverythingasmywindowcleared.Mycar,slidingintotherightlanebecauseIhadtojerkthewheeltoavoidoncomingtraffic.
Slidingdirectlytowardthepickuptruckintheotherlane.
“Shit,shit,shit!”
Imashedmyfootonthebrake,butitwasnouse.Islammedintothatvehicle—harderthanI’dhitthedaybefore—actuallymovingitasIrammedthesideofthetruckbed.
“No,no,no,no!”Asmycarjerkedtoastop,IwasstaringdirectlyatatruckthatlookedexactlylikeNickStark’struck.Whatthehell,universe?
Myhoodappearedtobejustascrumpledasthedaybefore,maybemore.Iunbuckledmyseatbelt,myshakinghandsmakingthetasktrickierthanusual.Iwasjustgrabbingthedoorhandlewhenitwasyankedopenfromtheotherside.
“Hey—youokay?”Nicklookeddownatme,butinsteadofbeingajerk,helookedconcerned.“Youhitprettyhard.”
“Ithinkso.”InoddedandhesteppedbacksoIcouldgetoutofthecar.IcouldsmellhissoaporshampooasIstoodandclosedthedoor.“Ohno—it’ssmoking.”
HeandIbothlookedatmysmashedhoodassmokestartedbillowingout.Nicksaid,“Weshouldprobablygetoutoftheroad.”
Hisvoicesoundedsleep-gravellyashepulledhisphoneoutofhispocketandwalkedtowardthesideoftheroad.Ifollowed,alittleshakenupbytheviolenceofthecrashandalsobytheundeniablefactthatI’dbeenunabletoavoidtheNickcollision.
Ithoughtmyplanhadbeenfoolproof,buttheuniverseapparentlyhadsomethingelseinmind.
Nickspoketo911,andthenhemust’vebeenonholdbecausehelookedatmeandwhispered,“Aren’tyoucoldinthat?”
Andhesaid“that”whilelookingdownatmylegsinthesamewayhewould’veeyeballedmeifI’dbeendressedlikeaTeletubby.
Andhonestly,Iwasfreezing.Itfeltliketheairwasice,stabbingmethroughmytightsandonmycheeks,butIsaid,“Nah—I’mgood.”
WhilesimultaneouslyfantasizingaboutthejacketthatIknewwasinhisbackseat.
ButIjustcouldn’tlethimwin.
Hegavemeasmirkthatcalledmealiarbeforehewentbacktotalkingintohisphone.Iclenchedmyteethtokeepthemfromchatteringandwondered—again—howhelookedlikesuchanadult.Imean,hewasmyage,buttherewassomethingso…overtwenty-oneabouttheguy.
“They’reontheirway,”hesaid,shovinghisphonebackintothepocketofhisjeans.
“Thanks.”IhadtoforcemyselftolooknotfrozenwhenIsaid,“I’mEmilieHornby,bytheway.WesitatthesametableinMr.Bong’sclass.”
Hiseyebrowscrinkledtogether.“Wedo?”
Yeah—itwasjustasirritatingonrepeat.“Yes,wedo.Sincethebeginningoftheyear.”
“Hmm.”Helookedatme.“Yousure?”
“Yes,”Isaidthroughagroan,rollingmyeyes.
“Um…,”hestarted,watchingmelikeIwasalunatic.“Areyoudoingokayhere?”
“I.Am.Wonderful.”Thesirensshowedupatthatpoint,andeverythingwasonrepeat.Carcaughtfire,Igotticketed,Nickbroughtmehisjacket,whichIbegrudginglyaccepted,andgavemearidetoschool.
IrealizedasIbuckledmyseatbeltthatIneededtobemoreadaptiveduringthisdayoffixingthings.BecauseIdidn’thavetheexactrecipeforwhatexactlyneededtobefixed.Imightnothavebeenabletoavoidthewreck,butperhapsIwassupposedtofixourinteractioninstead.
Ididn’tknowtheexactitudes,soIneededtotrytofixeverylittlething.
“Thankyousomuchfortheride,”Isaidpolitely,turningmylipsupintowhatIhopedwasapleasantsmile.“It’sveryniceofyou.”
“It’snotreallynice,”hesaid,puttingthecarintofirstandlettingouttheemergencybrake,“somuchasitispractical.IfIletyouwalktoschoolandyoufreezetodeath,surelythatwouldputacrimpinmykarma.ButbygivingyouaridesomewherethatI’malreadygoing—nosacrificeonmypartatall—I’mactuallyearninggoodkarma.”
Isighed.“Lovely.”
Hesmirkedbutdidn’tlookatme.“Itislovely.”
Ilookedoutthewindowandtriedagain.“Ilovethissong,bytheway.Metallica’sawesome.”Thatmadehimgivemetheside-eye.
“YoulikeMetallica.”
Inoddedandpursedmylips.“Sure.”
Hiseyesnarrowed.“Namethreesongs.”
IcrossedmyarmsandsquintedbackathimashelookedatmelikeIwasaliar.Whywasheinsistingonsabotagingme?“Idon’thavetonamethreesongstoproveIlikethem.”
“ThenI’mjustgoingtoassumeyou’reaposer.”Hiseyeswerebackontheroadagain.
“Posingatwhat,exactly?Someonewholikesthesoundofangryoldguysbarkingoutwords?”
Thatmadehislipsturnupintoanactualsmileandheglancedover.“See?Iknewyoudidn’tlikethem.”
Irolledmyeyes,whichmadehimchuckle,andItoldmyselfthatitdidn’tmatter.MyinteractionwithNickStarkwassurelyirrelevantinthewholefixing-the-dayplan.SoIsaidwhatwasactuallyonmymind.
“Doyoualwayscomeatpeoplewhenthey’rejustmakingsmalltalk?”
“Iwouldn’tcallit‘comingatpeople.’Ijustthinkifyoursmalltalkisaboutaband,youshouldprobablyknowaboutsaidband.”
Iscoffed.“Iwasbeingpolite—everheardofit?”
“Iwouldn’treallycallpointlesslying‘polite.’?”
“Comeon—itwasn’tlying.”Igavemyheadashake.“Iwasmentioningitforthesakeofconversation.It’swhatstrangersdowhenthey’reattemptingtobenice.”
“Butwearen’tstrangers.”Helookedatmewithasmirk.Again.“Yousaidyou’remylabpartner.”
“Iamyourlabpartner!”
Biggersmirk.“Sothenwhydidyousaywe’restrangers?”
Isighed.“Ihavenoidea.”
Itwashorriblyquietforafewminutesashisoldtruckdroveinthedirectionofourschool.Itwasawkwardanduncomfortable,butbetterthanwhenhewastalking.So—ofcourse—heruineditwhenhesaid,“Waitasecond—nowIknowwhereI’veseenyou.Aren’tyouthegirl—”
“WhositsbyyouinChem?Yes,”Iinterrupted.
“—whochokedinthecafeteria?”
Man,Iwouldneverlivethatdown.
“Ididn’tchoke.”Iclearedmythroat.“Itjustgotstuckinmythroat.”
Thatmadehimlookawayfromtheroadtogivemeacockedeyebrow.“Wouldn’tthatbetheliteraldefinitionofchoking?”
“No,itwouldnot,”Ihuffed,knowingIwashuffingbutunabletostop.“Chokingiswhenfoodgetsstuckinyourwindpipeandyoucannotbreathe.Icouldbreathe;Ijusthadfoodstuckinmyesophagus.”
Herolledinhislipsandnarrowedhiseyes.“Yousurethat’sright?”
“OfcourseI’msure—ithappenedtome.”
Hemadeanoise.“I’vejustneverheardofthat—Idon’tknowifit’sathing.”
“Iamtellingyouthatithappenedsoyouactuallydoknowthatit’sathing.”Icouldhearmyvoicegettinghigh-pitched,buttheboywasbeyondfrustrating.“Somepeoplehaveaconditionwherefoodcangetstuckintheirthroat.Ihavetotakeomeprazoleeverymorningtoensureitdoesn’thappenagain.Soitisdefinitelyathing.”
Hepulleduptoastoplight,andwhenthetruckcametoacompletestop,Nickturnedhisheadandlookedatme.
Hismouthwasn’tsmiling,buttherewassomethingteasinginhiseyeswhenhesaid,“Areyousureyou’remylabpartner?”
Igroaned.“OfcourseI’msure.”
“Thatgirlissuperquiet,whereasyouseemprettychatty.”
“I’mnotchatty.”
“Youseemexcessivelychatty,actually.”
“Well,I’mnot.”Iwasactuallyaquietperson.Shit
“Yeah,okay.”
Wedidn’tspeakagainuntilwegottoschool,whereIthankedhimfortherideandverynearlythrewhiscoatathim.Hecaughtitgracefully,andasIturnedaway,Icouldhaveswornhewassmiling.
Ihadtoforcemyselftotakeadeepbreathandfocus.Itdidn’tmatterthatNickStarkwasintentonruiningmychancesoffixingthisday—Ihadworktodo.
Whentheofficesentapassforme,Igrabbedmybagandstartedinthatdirection.Butinsteadofturningtowardtheadministrationarea,Iwalkedallthewaybacktothefarthestrestroominthebuilding,theonethatwaspastthelibrary.
Ididn’treallyhaveagoodplanonhowtokeepmyspotinthesummerprogram,butpartofmewondered:Iftheycouldn’tfindme,mighttheyconsiderjustlettingmeintosaveusalltheawkwardembarrassmentoftheirmistake?
Imean,whatwasonemorespot,really?
ItwasthebestIcouldcomeupwithatthatmoment,sohidinginthebathroomwaswhatIwasgoingtodo.Iglancedbehindmebeforepushinginthebathroomdoorandgoinginside.Itsmelledlikecherry—awaftingreminderofthein-between-classvapers—butIwasalone.
Whew.
Isetmybagnexttothesinkandpulledoutmymakeuppouch.Ispentafewminutestouchingupmycheeksandlips.IhadcomplicatedfeelingsaboutJoshafterseeinghimkiss-but-not-really-in-real-lifeMacy,butIwasforcingmyselftoforgetaboutthat.
Shehadkissedhim,afterall,andifI’dstuckaround,wouldIhaveseenhimpullaway?Iwasgoingwithyes.
Presents,poetry,andIloveyou—thoseboxesweregettingchecked.Ihadtotalconfidenceinmytheoriesaboutrelationshipsandlove,andIwasn’tgoingtoletatinylittlepeckscrewitallup.Todaywasgoingtogoperfectly,andtomorrowwouldbeFebruary15.
Unfortunately,themakeupfresheningdidn’ttakelong,andafterthatIdidn’tknowwhattodowithmyself.Icouldscrollthroughmyphonetopassthetime,buttherewasawholenervous-awkwardnessthingthatmademetenseasIstoodbythesink.
DidIhearsomeonecoming?Whowasit?Teacherorstudent?Niceormean?WasIsupposedtopretendtobedoingmymakeupiftheycameinor…what?Theminutesweretickingbyliketheywereinslowmotion.
Finally,Idecidedtogointoastall.Itseemeddisgusting,sittingonatoilet—onceagain—whilefullyclothed,butatleastIcouldrelax.Itookmybagintothefirstslot,lockedthedoor,andstartedlayingdownatwo-layer-deepcoveringoftoiletpaperacrosstheseat.WhenitwasfinallythickenoughwhereIcouldnolongerseetheblackseat,Isatdown.
IpulledmyphoneoutofmyfrontpocketandtextedJosh.
Me:Icannotbelieveit’sV-DayandIhaven’tseenyouyettoday.
Joshwasquicktorespond,myphonemakingthefamiliarhorse’sneighsoundthathe’dprogrammedashisownpersonalringtone.Right?!Yourpresentisburningaholeinmylocker.Wherewereyouthismorning?
Thatmademerelaxalittle.Ismiledandtexted:Wreckedmycaronthewaytoschool—I’lltellyouaboutitlater.
Josh:Oh,shit.
Me:Right?Now,regardingmypresent,isitburningabigholeoralittlehole?
Josh:That’sformetoknowandyoutofindout.ButIhavetogotakeaquiznow,babe.
Me:Fine.Xoxo.
Ibackedoutofmessages,feelingrelieved.Regardlessofwhat’doccurredontheotherValentine’sDays,therewasnowayJoshwouldbekissingMacythatday.
Takethat,Mace
SinceIwasn’tgoinganywheresoon,Ileaneddown,unzippedmybag,andstarteddiggingformybook.IfIwasstuckhidingintherestroom,whynotmakeuseofthetimeandread,right?IhadtotakeoutthebottleofDietCokeinordertograbthepaperback,soIsetitonthefloorandpulledoutthenovel.
Mytoeswerealreadykillingmebecausemyadorablenewbootswereahalfsizetoosmall,soIslidmyfeetoutandrestedthemontopofthesoftsuedeasIsettledintoread.
IshovedmyphoneintomypocketwithonehandasIgrippedthebookwiththeother,butasIpulledmyhandoutofmypocket,mycuffbraceletcaughttheedgeofmyphone.Igrappledforitasitstartedfalling,butitwaslikeIwaswatchinginslo-moasthephonetumbledandwentthroughthetinygapthatexistedbetweenmyouterthighandtheedgeofthetoiletseat.
“Gah!”Ijumpedup,butitwastoolate.IlookeddownintotheTP-decoratedtoilet.Mybeautifulrose-goldphonewiththeadorablefloralcasehadimmediatelysunktothebottomofthegerm-infestedporcelainbowl.“No,no,no—shit,shit,shit.”
Asmyearsstartedpounding,Irealizedthatmystockingedfeetwerenowdirectlyonthedisgustingfloor.
Ignoringthatfornow,Irolledinmylips,tookadeepbreath,andplungedmyhandintothefreezing-coldbacteria-ladenwater.
“DearLord.”Ipulleditout,holdingthedrippingdevice—whichwassurelydestroyed—outinfrontofme.
Iopenedthestallwithmydryhandandmovedthroughtheopening,leavingmybaginthestall.Ineededtoscrubtheskinoffofmyhandsandsanitizemyphone.Feelingthecoldbathroomfloorundermyfeet,Iclenchedmyteeth.Howhadthishappened?
I’dtakenonestepoutofthestallinmystockingedfeetwhenthebathroomdooropened.Ifrozeasthreegirlsfiledin,talkingloudlyamongthemselves.
No,no,please,no
Itwasn’tjustanythreegirls;itwasthem
Therewerealotofpopularpeopleatschoolwhoseemedniceenough,butLauren,Nicole,andLallieweretheoneswhoenunciatedlikeKardashiansandactuallytoldpeopletheycouldn’tsitwiththematlunch.
Onanygivenday,theycouldrandomlydecideyourhairwasridiculousandstartaschool-widejokeofanicknamethatfollowedyouallthewaythoughgraduationandstillexistedatyourten-yearreunion.
I’dfeltmarginallylessvulnerablearoundthemsinceIstarteddatingJosh,onlybecausetheylikedhim.Theystilldidn’ttalktome,whichwasfine,buttheirthreatwasneutralizedbytheirfriendlyrelationshipwithmyboyfriend.
Butitwasliketimestoppedandforasplitsecond,Iwasabletoseemyselfthroughtheireyes.Abookishnon-popular,comingoutofabathroomstallwithadrippingphoneinherhandandhershoesoff.Thatledtheireyestothefloorofstallnumberone,wheremyboots,abook,andahalf-consumedbottleofDietCokeallsattogetherasifI’djustbeenhavingatoiletpicnic.
Theykepttalkingtoeachotheranddidn’tsayanythingtooraboutme—thankgoodness—butasIturnedonthefaucetandstartedlatheringmyhandsandmyphone,Idefinitelysawtheeyebrow-raises.
Perfectlyarchedeyebrows,mindyou,buteyebrowsthatsaidthey’ddefinitelybetalkingaboutmeaftertheyleft.
Which,thankfully,wasonlymomentslater.Oncetheyweregone,Irantogathermystuff,re-bootmyself(afterwipinghandsanitizeronthebottomofmytights),andwrapmytaintedphoneinahundredpapertowelsbeforezippingitintomybag’soutsidepocket.
Okay.So.Thebathroomordealmadetotalperfectionunachievable.ButIstillhadhopethatachievingromanticperfectioncouldpotentiallysavetheday.
Isatanxiouslythroughmynextclassbecause(a)Ididn’thaveaphonesoIhadnowayofknowingifJoshwastexting,(b)Iwasworriedtheofficewasgoingtotryagain,(c)Iwasstressedthatrumorsofmypottypicnicwerealreadycirculating,and(d)IwasparanoidmybootsweregoingtostartsmellinglikeFritossinceI’dzippedmyfeetintothemwhiletheywerestillslickwithsanitizer.
Iwastryingtoavoidthinkingbytakingextensivenotesonmylaptop,whenanemailnotificationpoppedup.
Iclickedintomyin-boxandmystomachdroppedwhenIsawwhoitwasfrom.
Mrs.Bowen,fromthesummerprogram.
I’dhopedtodiscussthisinperson,butsinceweweren’tabletolocateyou,emailwillhavetosuffice
“Dammit,”ImutteredundermybreathasIreadmyrejectioninacold,professionalemailmessage.
“Ms.Hornby?”MyWorldCivteacher,Mrs.Wunderlich,lookedatmeasifI’djustspokenintongues.“Whatwasthat?”
“Nothing.Sorry.”
Shewentontodotherequisiteten-secondteacherstare,agazethatinformedmeIhaddonewrongandshehopedIwasdyingofmortification,beforegoingbacktoherlecture.
Perfectingthisdaywaslookingmoreandmorechallenging.
Whenthebellrang,Igatheredmythingsandverynearlysprintedthroughthehallsinordertogettothewestentranceearlierthanontheotherdays.Ibumpedandexcuse-me’dthroughthecongestedhallways,andonceIreachedthedoubledoors,Imovedtostandbehindthehugearrangementofindoorplants.
Iwasn’thiding—really.Iwas…lurking.Maybe.IknewJoshwouldn’tkissMacy,butIwascurioustoseethemarriveandgetasenseoftheirvibewhentheyweretogether.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
Ijumpedatthesoundofthevoice,andwhenIturnedaround,itwasNickStark,smirkingatmelikeheknewexactlywhatIwasupto.Iglancedbehindhimbeforequietlysaying,“Shhh.Goaway.”
“Um.”HegesturedtotheminijungleIwasprotectedby.“Areyoustalkingsomeonefrombackhere?”
“No,I’mwaitingformyboyfriend.Canyou—”
MyheadswiveledaroundandmywordsstoppedwhenIheardJosh’svoice.IfeltNick’sgazefollowmyownasJoshandMacywalkedinourdirection,andIgrabbedNick’ssleeveandpulledhimbehindtheplantswithme.Icouldn’thavehimdrawingtheirattentiontomylurking.JoshwastalkingandMacywassmiling—beaming,actually—andJoshwaswalkingalittlesidewayssohecouldfaceherbetter.
Imean,nobigdeal.Theywerefriends,right?
“Comeon,Josh.”Macy’seyeswereanimatedasshesaid,“Ifyouletmecomealong,notonlydoyougetthejoyofhavingmerideshotguninyourJamesBond–mobile,butIwillallowyoutomakethecallonwhatwedowithallthattime.”
Theystoppedinfrontofthedoorsandhesmileddownather.Icouldtellhewasenjoyingtheattention.“Thatsoundslikealotofpower—I’mnotsureIcanhandleit.”
“Oh,Iknowyoucan’t.”Myheartwaspoundinginmychestandmystomachdroppedoutofmybodyassheleanedclosertohimandsaid,“Butyoushouldtry.”
Hesaid,“IguessIcouldusesomeonetoholdthedrinks.”
“Toldyou.”
“Andallyourhelpwillcostmeisatallvanillalatte?”
“Ican’tbelieveyouremembermyorder,”shesaid,andlaughed.
Whycouldn’tshebelievethat?Itwaseveryone’sStarbucksorder,fortheloveofGod.Everygirlatthisschoolprobablyhadthesamedrinkatleastonce.Itdidn’tmakehimfreakingEinstein.
Helookedcharming,andsexy,andIkindofwantedtopunchhisprettynoseashesaid,“Iremembereverything,Mace.”
“Uh,yousurehe’syourboyfriend?”Nickwhispered,andIkindofwantedtopunchhim,too.
JoshpushedthedoorsopenandheandMacystartedwalkingoutside,andIdon’tknowwhatcameoverme.
“Wait!”IyelledasIgrabbedNick’ssleeve,pullinghimwithmeasIranafterthem,pushingthroughthedoorsandjoggingastheybothstoppedandturnedaround.IsawMacyglancenervouslyatJoshbutmyboyfriendslidintoaconfidentsmileashesaid,“Em!”
IrealizedasIstumbledtoastop—withNickatmyheels—thatIhadnoideawhatIwasdoing.Noplan,otherthantoyellandscreamandstopthem,withNickassomekindofabuffer.NowthatIwasinfrontofthem,Iwasclueless.Iclearedmythroatandsaid,“Areyougoingonacoffeerun?”
Macy’sfacerelaxedandJoshsaid,“Yeah.YouknowMr.Carson—needsiteveryday.”
“Awesome.”Inodded.“NickandIaredyingforcoffeeandneedtogetoutofhere.Careifwecomewith?”
IglancedatNick,waitingforhimtoruinitforme,buthejustfrowned,whichwasn’ttoodifferentfromhisusualexpression,actually.JoshlookedatNick,clearlyconfusedaboutwhattheguywasdoingthere,andMacysaid,“Ofcourse.”
Josh,stillsquintingatNick,said,“Youknowhowbigmycaris,Em.Youupforridinginthemiddle?”
“Sure,”Imuttered,regrettingallofmyterribledecisionsasthefourofussilentlywalkedtohiscar.IshotNickalook,raisingmyeyebrowsasiftosay,Prettypleasejustgoalongwiththis.Surprisingly,herolledhiseyesandwalkedbesideme,whichdidn’tevenmakesensebecausetherewasnowayheactuallywantedtoditchschooltogotoStarbuckswithus.
Weweren’tevenfriends.
Butdespitehisattitudethatmorning,Ifoundhispresencecomforting.SomethingabouthisI-don’t-give-a-shithotnessandthewayhesaidwhateverhewasactuallyfeelingmademefeellikeIhadanally.
Weird,right?
Josh’scarwasatinylittletwo-seater,sowhenheunlockedthedoor,Ihadtoclimb—inadress—acrossthepassengerseatandintothetinyspotinfrontofthegearshift.Macygotinbesideme,Nickhadtosquishinbesideher,andthefourofusjammedtogetherintheworld’smostawkwardsandwich.
IturnedandputmylegsonMacy’ssideofthefloorboards,soastonotbestraddlingthestickshift,makingourlegstouchanduppingtheembarrassinghorroroftheouting.AndIhadtoputmyarmsoverthebacksoftheseatssoIwouldn’tfloparoundontopofthemeverytimeweturnedacorner.IaccidentallytouchedNick’sshoulder,makinghimlookoveratme.LeaningbacksoMacycouldn’tsee,Ilookedathimandhemouthed,What.The.Fuck
Inthemidstoftheawkwardness,atinypartofmewantedtolaugh.Instead,Imouthed,Pleasehelpme,whichmadehimsighinawaythatIhopedmeanthefoundmeridiculousbutwouldhelpme.
Joshflippedontheheaterandlefttheparkinglot,anditwastheworstkindofquietinthecar.
WhatwasIevendoing?
“Howmanycoffeesareyougettingtoday?”ItriedtosoundutterlyunawareofthedynamicaswedrovetowardStarbucks.“Bigorder?”
Joshturnedthecorner,makingmedigmyfingersintotheirheadrestsinordertonotflyoutthewindow,ashesaid,“Justfive.Oursandhis.”
“Gotit.”
Morequiet.
“Youdon’thaveaclassthishour,Macy?”Nickasked,lookingatmeasiftopointouthowsketchythisseemed.
“I’minCarson’sclasswithJosh,soIjusttoldhimthatJoshneededhelpcarryingthedrinks.”
“Ah.”Nick,stilllookingatme,said,“That’sconvenient.”
“Itextedyouearliertoseeifyouwantedsomething,”Joshsaidtome,turningonhisblinkerandswitchinglanes.
“Oh,yeah—myphoneisdead.”
“Ialwaysforgettochargemine,too,”Macysaid.
“Iactuallydroppeditinthetoilet,”Isaid,instantlyregrettingsharingthatlittlegem.“Imean,notadirtytoilet—itwasn’tdirty.Imean,yes,alltoiletsaredirty,butImeantherewasnothinginit.”
Shutup,shutup,shutup!
“HolyChrist,”NickmutteredatthesametimeMacysaid,“OhmyGod.”
Yes,wewereallcallingouttotheLordinresponsetomyphone’sdisgustingswim.
“Right?”wasallIcouldmanage.
JoshpulledintoStarbucks,putthecarinneutral,flippedhissunglassesuponhishead,andlookedatNick,whowaslookingoutthewindow.Joshhadthatdebate-captain-superioritylookonhisfaceasheasked,“Okay,soIknowwhatthegirlswant.Whataboutyou,dude?”
Nickdidn’tevenlookover.“I’mgood,butthanks.Dude.”
Joshglancedatme,likehewaslookingforanexplanationastowhyNickStarkwaswithusandbeingajerk,andIsmiledandshrugged.AsifIhadanycluewhatwasgoingoninlifeanymore.
AfterJoshcamebackwiththedrinks,wespedbacktoschool,withJoshcrankinguptheradiosoconversationwasimpossible,whichIappreciated.
Aswepulledintotheparkinglot,Macyturneddowntheradioandsaid,“Whatisthatsmell?”
Andsheputherperfectlittlenoseintheairandstartedsniffing.
Isniffed,butdidn’treallysmellanythingotherthancoffee.
“You’reright,itsmellslikefeetinhere.”Joshputthecarinfirst,pulleduptheemergencybrake,andturnedofftheenginewhilewrinklinghisnose.
Ohno.Iscrunchedupmyfaceandpretendedtobedisgusted,too.“Josh.Didyoumaybeleavesomesocksinhereorsomething?”
ThatmadeJoshglareatme.Webothknewthathespentcountlesshours—everyweekend—buffingandlovinguponthattinylittlecar,beforehesaid,“Therearenosocksinmycar.”
“Yousure?”Nickasked.“Becauseitreallysmellslikedirtysocks.”
JoshlookedlikehewantedtokillNick.“WhywouldIhavedirtysocksinmycar?”
“Ihavenofuckingidea.”
BeforetheirnosescouldhoneinonmybootiesIsaid,“Canyouguysletmeout?Mylegsarebeyondcramped.”
Wefiledoutofthecar,andthefourofuswentbackintotheschool.Joshgavemealittlepeck—theobligatorygoodbyekiss—whenwehadtogoourseparateways.IheldmycoffeeandwatchedhimandMacywalkaway.
Imayhavesuccessfullykeptthemfromkissing,butthatcoffeerundefinitelydidn’tfeellikeawin.Thebellrangatthatmoment,destroyingmytrainofthought.
“Thankyouforinvitingme,”Nickdrawled,startlingmefrommythoughtsashegavemeanamusedsmirk.“Witnessingthatlevelofawkwardnesswasdownrightentertaining.”
“Shutup,”Isaid,unabletoholdbackatinysmile.
“Seriously.”Heturnedandstartedwalkingawayfromme,yellingoverhisshoulderasthepassingperiodcrowdsswallowedhim,“You’vereallymadethisanamazingday,Emilie.”
Irolledmyeyesandheadedinthedirectionofmylocker.IwassolostinmythoughtsthatIdidn’thearthegigglesatfirst.Thensomethinginmyperipheralvisioncaughtmyeye.IglancedtomyrightandtherewereLauren,Nicole,andLallie,withfourothergirls,standinginfrontofabankoflockers.
Giggling,whisperingtoeachother,andlookingdirectlyatme.
IwalkedfasterandbreathedasighofreliefwhenIwalkedthroughMr.Bong’sdoor.Suddenlyfindingmyselfonthosethree’sradarwasnotsomethingI’danticipated,anditsurelywasn’tsomethingIwanted.
Thereliefwasfleeting,though,whenIreachedmytableandNickwassmirkingupatmewithhischinrestingonhishand.
Isatonmystoolandunzippedmybag,pullingoutmytextbookandmybinder,ignoringhimcompletely.
Hesaid,“Sothatwasweird,right?”
Irolledmyeyesandopenedthebook,flippingtowardourcurrentchapter.
“Oneminuteyouweretellingmetogoaway,andthenextyouweredraggingmealongontheworld’smostawkwardtriptoStarbucks.”
Ididn’tanswer,andhisvoicegotalittlequieterwhenhesaid,“Youdoknowhe’scheatingwithher,right?”
Ilookedathimoutofthecornerofmyeye,continuingtoflipthepagesofmytextbook.“Canwegobacktonottalking?”
“Idon’tthinkwecan.”Hereachedhishandoverandstoppedmefromturninganotherpage.“Becausewe’renolongerstrangers.”
Thiswasthecherry,wasn’tit?Thecherryontopofthegod-awfulattemptatperfectingtheday.Lookingfromhishandtohisface,Isighedandsaid,“Butwecanbe.I’mchatty—andyouhatethat—andyou’resurly,whichIhate.Solet’sjustpretendweneverranintoeachotherthismorningandyoucangobacktonotknowingwhoIam.”
Thatmadehimsmile,asmilethatwas—tobehonest—potentashell.Hewassuchascowlyintrovertthatitalmostmadeyoumisshowunbelievablyhandsomehewas.
Butwhenhewaspresent—andsmiling—hewasclub-you-in-the-gut-with-a-boardattractive.
Suchawasteonanasshole.
“Idon’tthinkIcandothat,”hesaid,crossinghisarmsandreallylookingatme.“Andyoudidn’tinvitemetocoffee—technically,youdraggedme.”
Mr.Bongcameinandstartedtalking,whichfoolishlymademethinkNickwouldshutupandleavemealone.Buttherewasnosuchthingasgoodluckonthisday.
“GuesswhatIreadlastperiod?”
Isaid,“Shhh.”
“Dysphagia.”Heleanedcloserandsaid,“That’swhatit’scalledwhenfoodgetsstuckinyourthroatbutyouaren’tchoking.”
Icoughedoutalaugh.“Whatisyourdeal?”
“Nodeal.”
“YounevertalktomeinChem,andnowyouhaveinformationontheweirdhealththingthathappenedtomelastyearinthecafeteria.Whatareyouupto?”
HegavealittlechuckleandstraightenedasMr.Bongglancedinourdirection.“IjustwantedyoutoknowthatIlookeditup,anditisactuallyathing.”
“Iknowit’sathing—it’smything!Ithappenedtome.”
“Emilie?”Mr.Bong—andtheentireclass—waslookingatme.Becauseyeah—Imight’vesaiditalittleloudly.
Imurmured,“Sorry.”
Mr.Bongwentbacktohislecture,andwhenIglancedatNick,hewasshakinghisheadandclearlytryingtoholdinalaugh.Ishookmyhead,butthemischiefinhisfacemadeitimpossiblenottosmilealittle.
“Longstoryshort—mycargottowed.”
IlookedatChrisindisbeliefasheputonhiscoatandslammedhislocker.Ontopofeverything,ofallthetragediesofthatgod-awfulday,Chrishadnocarwithwhichtodriveushome?Isaid,“So…?”
“Sowe’rewalkinghome,Iguess,becauseRoxisalreadygoneandmyparentsarebothinmeetings.”
“Ugh,”Igroaned.“Icannotbelievethisday.”
“Icheckedandthewindchillisjustsouthoftendegrees,soyeah—thisisgonnablow.”
“Youguysneedaride?”
IclosedmyeyeswhenIheardthevoice.OfcourseNickStarkwasthere.Whywouldn’thebe?Hewasevery-fucking-wherethatday.IopenedmymouthtogivehimabigoldNothankswhenChrissaidovermyshoulderinanear-squeal,“Forreal?”
IturnedintimetoseeNickshrugandsaytoChris,“Sure.Youreadynowor—”
“Ihavetodosomethingfirst,”Iinterrupted,givingChrisalook.“Ihaveto,um,runsomethingtothenorthhallmeetingroomreallyfast.”
Chrisrolledhiseyes,catchingontowhatIwasupto.“Ijustwanttogohome,Em.”
“IneedtofindJoshfirst.I’llbequick.”Iheldupafingeratthem,turned,andstartedspeed-walkingdownthehalltowardthemeetingroom,buttheyfollowedme.Overmyshoulder,Isaid,“Youdon’thavetogowithme—Icanmeetyouatthecar.”
“Nah—wewantto,”Nicksaid,givingmeasmart-asslookastheykeptwalkingwithme.
“Can’tyougoovertohishouselater?”Chrissigheddramaticallyandadded,“LikeanormalhumanbeingonValentine’sDay?”
“IjusthavetogivehimhisgiftbeforeIgo.”Wereachedthemeetingroom,whichwaswhereMockTrialdidtheirthing,andItookadeepbreath.“OneminuteandI’llbeready.”
Chrisrolledhiseyes.IknewIwasactingdesperate,butreally—Iwasdesperate.Igesturedforthemtomoveandgivemealittlespace,buttheyweren’tbudging.
Fine.
Ipulledopenthedoorandpoppedmyheadinside.Peopleweresittingatmultipletables,talking,andIsquintedasIscannedtheroomforJosh.IwasalmostreadytogiveupwhenInoticedthebackofhishead,sittingatatableontheothersideoftheroom.
Iwasalittlesurprisedbythebubbleofragethatblurbledinsideofmeatthesightofhiscurlyhair—theoutingwithMacywastoofresh—butweweregoingtodothedamnlovethingifitkilledme.
“Josh!”Iwhisper-yelled.“Pssst!Josh!”
Hedidn’thearme,butOwenCollins—oneofJosh’sI-purport-myself-to-be-a-college-professorfriends—did.Hestoodandsaid,“Joshua,youarebeingpagedbyyourgirlfriend.”
Whichmadeeverysingleheadswingaroundinmydirection.
“Canwego,please?”Chrismutteredfrombehindme.
“Onesec,”IsaidasJoshwalkedacrosstheroomandtowardme.
“Thisissoromantic,”IheardNickmutter,soundinglikehethoughtanythingbut.
Chrisgiggled.
“Hey.Em.”Joshlookedatme.“What’sup?”
“I,um,Ihaveyourpresent.”Iheldupthewrappedboxandsmiled.“IthoughtmaybewecoulddoourexchangereallyquickbeforeIgo.”
“Idon’thaveyourpresentwithme.”Joshglancedbehindhimandthensaidtome,“AndIreallyhavetogo.”
“Butdon’tyouhavetoworkafterthis?”Ituckedmyhairbehindmyears,anxioustoconvincehimbecauseIdesperatelyneededtoturnthedayaroundsoFebruary15wasapossibility.“Ireallywanttogiveyoumygifttoday.”
“Desperatemuch?”Chrissaid,andIknewhewasright,evenasIkickedoutmylegandstruckhisshin.Iknewhewasright,butIstillhadtotry.
Maybemy“Iloveyou”utterancewouldchangeeverything.
“Listen,Em,”Joshsaid,notevenbotheringtohidehisannoyancethistime.“Idon’tknowwhatthisis,butI’lltalktoyoulater.Ihavetogo.”
“Okay.Well,um,IjustwantedtotellyouthatIlove—”
“Chicken.”Nickpulledopenthedoor,makingmestumblebackward,andhepoppedupbesideme.“Sheloveschickenandthoughtyou,herboyfriend,shouldprobablyknowthat.”
JoshlookedbackandforthbetweenNickandmebeforesaying,“Whoevenareyou?”
Nicksmiled.“I’mNick.”
IpushedNickoutofthedoorway.“Idon’tlovechicken,Ilove—”
“Look,Ihavetogo,Em.We’lltalklater.”
Hewalkedaway,andIsawOwenlookingatmelikeIwasapathetic,clingyloser.WhichIwas.IturnedaroundandNickwasleaningagainstthewallandshakinghishead,andChriswasstaringatmewithhismouthwide-open.
“Icannotdecidewhethertohugyouafteryouhumiliatedyourselfsobadly,orkickyourass.”
“Please,”Isaid,turningawayfromtheMockTrialdoorandwalkingintohischest.“Kickmyass.”
ChriswrappedhisarmsaroundmeandIburiedmyfaceinhishoodie.Hesaid,“There,there,Em,”andpattedmybackforfivesecondsbeforesaying,“Nowgetoffandlet’sgobeforeourrideditchesus.”
“Idoneedtogo,”Nicksaid,andChrisgavehimdirectionstoourhousesaswewalkeddownthehallandexitedthebuilding.
Ihadhumiliatedmyself.IknewIwasforcingthings,butIwasright.IwasrightaboutJoshandaboutlove,andhowtobreakoutofthistimeloop.
TheonlyupsidewasthatI’dprobablybewakinguptothesamedayagaintomorrow,aseveryattempttochangethedayhadresultedinatrainwreck,soatleastitwouldbeforgotten,andI’dgetmydo-over.
Aswebuckledup—Chrisinthemiddlethistime—heasked,“Iseverythingokay,Em?”
Ishruggedandclickedmybeltinplace.“I,um,IjustreallywantedustohaveabigValentine’smoment.”
“I’dsayyousucceeded,”Nicksaid,puttinghistruckinfirstbeforepullingoutoftheparkingspot.
“Shutit,”Ireplied.
“I’mnotgoingtosayanythingbadaboutJoshuabecauseIrespectthatyoulikehim,butdon’tyouthinkhewaskindof…prickishtoyoujustnow?”Chrisglancedoveratmeandsaid,“Imean,yes,youwereacting…oddly,buthewasabitofatool.”
IglancedoveratNickasIquietlysaidtoChris,“Maybewecantalkaboutthislater…?”
“Oh,comeon,Emmer.”ChrisgesturedtowardNickandsaid,“Afterhewitnessedthatpatheticdisplayoflovesicktomfoolery,I’dsayhe’sfinetobegrandfatheredintothisdiscussion.”
“DidyoutalktoAlextoday?”Iasked.
“Nicesubjectchange,”ChrissaidtoNick,andthenhesaidtome,“AndofcourseIdid—I’mnotawishy-washylittlebabybitch.”
ChrishadhadacrushonAlexLopezformonthsnow.Theywerefriends—theybothrancrosscountrysotheykneweachotherprettywell—butChriswasafraidofruiningtheirfriendshipbyaskingAlexout.He’ddecidedthatonValentine’sDayhewasgoingtoseeifAlexwantedtohangout.Theplanwastopulloneofthose“Valentine’sDayislamewhenyou’resinglesosincewe’rebothsingleandalone,doyouwanttogetapizzaandwatcholdmovies?”kindofthings.
Igasped.“Youseriouslydidit?”
Hesmiledalittlesecretsmileandsaid,“Istumbledintoit.AtfirstItotallychoked,butthenhesaidhefeltlikealoserforhavingnoplans,soheleftmetheperfectopening.”
“That’samazing!”Ilaughedashisfacetransformedintohappysunlight.Chrislikedtoacttoo-cool,like,allthetime,buthewasoneofthemorevulnerablepeopleIknewunderneathitall.“Sowhatareyougoingtowear?”
“No.”Heheldupahandandshookhishead.“I’mnotreadyforthestressyet.Canwejusttakeamomentandpicturehisadorableface?Like,whenAlexisallseriousaboutatopicandgoesoff,thecomboofintensityandboyishcutenessisjusttoomuch.”
Inodded;hewassoright.“Iknowexactlywhatyou’retalkingabout.LastyearIhadhiminHalleck’sAmericanGovernmentclass,andafterhepoppedoffonEllieGreenbecause,well,shewasbeingsosuperEllie-ish,Iwasobsessedwithhimfordays.Adorableplusintenseequalsholycrap.”
“Right?”Hewasbeamingagain,andIwasso,sohappyforhim.Chrishadbeenmybestfriendsincewe’dbothgottenfakenotestomissswimmingourfreshmanyear.Weassumedwe’dbeabletojustsitout,butCoachStroudmadeusstandonthesideofthepoolanddothestrokeswithourhands.Ondryland.
Iwould’vediedofmortificationbymyself,butChrismadeitintochoreography.I’dlaughedsohardathisludicrousdancesthatwe’dbothearneddetentions.
WespenttherestofthedrivetoChris’sdiscussingAlexLopez’sgreatness,andNickwasquiet.IwasmakingallsortsofinternaljudgmentsabouthissilenceuntilhesaidtoChrisashepulledontohisstreet,“Justmakesureyoulethimseetherealyou;thentheguydoesn’tstandachance.”
“Whoareyou,NickStark?”Christeased.“Ihaven’ttalkedtoyousincesecondgradeCubScouts,andnowhereyouare,actinglikesomekindofhot,grumpyCupid.”
“Youshutthefuckuprightnow.”
Chrisstartedlaughing,andsodidI.“Ican’tbelieveeitherofyouwereinCubScouts.”
“I’llhaveyouknowIwasthebestknotterinthesquad,”Chrissaid,unzippingtheoutsidepouchofhisbackpackandpullingouthiskeys.
“Pack,”Nickcorrected,slowingasChris’shouseapproached.
“Pack,”Chrisrepeated,rollinghiseyesandshakinghisheadatme.
“Thanksfortheride,Nick,”Chrissaidwhenwepulledintohisdriveway.Iopenedthedoorandgotoutsohecouldgetpastme,andIwonderedwhyNickhadn’tdroppedmeofffirst.Itseemedlikehe’dhavetobacktracknow,butmaybeNickhadtogosomewhereinthedirectionofmyhouseorsomething.Maybehehadahotoldergirlfriendwholivedbymeandhewasheadingovertopickherup.Despitehisbeingwitnesstothemostmortifyingmomentsofmylifetoday,hewasstillpracticallyastranger.
WhenIgotbackinandclosedthedoor,Chrisgesturedformetorolldownmywindow.
“Yousureyou’reokay?”heasked,turninghislipsdownlikehewasworried.“ThatstuntwithJoshwasverynotlikeyou.”
“Ijust…Idon’tknow.IreallyhadmyheartsetonaperfectValentine’sDaythisyearsoImight’veforcedthings.”
“Youthink?”Chrissaid.
“IwantedtotellhimthatIlovehim,butthenNick—”
“NO,”Chrissnapped.
“—ruinedit.”
“Idon’tthinkIwaswhatruinedit,”Nicksaidfrombehindthewheel.
Chrissaid,“You’rejoking,right?YouweregoingtosaytheL-word?”
WhywashesayingitlikeIwasoutofmymind?“I’mtotallyserious.”
Hiseyesgothugeandheshookhisheadbackandforth.“No,no,no.Em,youdon’tlovehim.”
“Yes,Ido—”
“Howlonghaveyouevenbeengoingoutwithhim?Isn’titalittlesoon?”
“Threemonthstoday,actually.”
“Threemonths.”HiseyesshotovertoNickandthenbacktome.“Today?”
“Yep.”
Hiseyebrowswentallthewayup.“Don’tyouthinkthisisalittleconvenient?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Hesaid,“Okay.Hereyouare,LittleMissPlanner.LittleMissTo-DoList.AslongasI’veknownyou,you’vebeenobsessedwitheverythingfittingintoneatlittleboxesthatyoucancheckoff.”
“What’swrongwiththat?”
“Nothing.”Hegavemeasweetfaceandsaid,“Ithinkyourcompulsiveneedforcontrolisadorable.Butdon’tyouthinksayingIloveyouonyourthree-monthanniversarythathappenstobeonaloveholidayisjustalittletoopenciled-in-the-date?”
Ifeltmyselfblush.Ididn’twanttotalkaboutitanymore.“Don’tyouneedtogoinyourhousenow?”
“Fine,I’llshutup,”hesaid.“Ifyouwantto‘I-love’theshitoutofhim,justcallhimlater.”
Irolledmyeyesandwavedbeforeheturnedandranupthestepsandintohishouse.Nickputthetruckinreverseandbackedout,andjustasheputitinfirst,hesaid,“Youknowyoudon’tlovehim,right?”
“What?”Ilookedathisprofileandsaid,“Howwouldyouknow?”
“Howwouldyounotknow?”hesaid.
“I’mnothavingthisconversationwithyou,”Isaid,annoyed.ThankGodIlivedclosetoChrisandwasalmosthomealready.
“Well,youshouldhaveitwithsomeone.”Heglancedoveratme.“You’resayingtheL-word,butafewhoursagoyouwerehidingbehindplantstoseeifhewascheatingonyou.”
“That’snotwhatIwasdoing—”
“Bullshit,”hesaid.
“It’snot,”Ilied.“Iwasjustwaitingforhim.”
Nickbrakedinfrontofmyhouse,pullingthecarovertothecurb.Heshoveditinneutral,pulleduptheparkingbrake,andturnedtofaceme.“Evenifthatweretrue—andwebothknowit’snot—thevibebetweenyouandyour‘boyfriend’wasawkwardandpolite.Itwastenseandweird.Forfuck’ssake,itwasn’tlove.”
“Whydoyoucare?”Isaid,almostcryingnow.Iwastiredoftherepeatingdays,ofthinkingaboutJoshandMacy,ofNickactinglikeheknewanythingaboutmeormyrelationship.
Hisfacewasunreadable.“Idon’t.”
But…didhe?Helookedsoseriousthatitmademystomachfeelflittery.Igrabbedmybagandsaid,“Good.Um,thanksfortheride.”
“Anytime.”
Inside,Iwentstraighttomyroom,hopingtomaybejustavoidthepromotiondiscussionwithmyfatherentirely.Unfortunately,hecameuprightaftermeandtoldmethe“goodnews”whiletouslingwithJoelonmybed,ticklingthekidandputtingonagloriousdisplayoffatherlylovethatIfoundtobeterriblydepressing.
Asifthatwasn’tbadenough,heandLisatalkedaboutTexasallthroughdinner.Thethingstheycoulddothere,thesuburbswheretheyhopedtofindahouse,therestaurantstheyhopedtofrequent,thetouristythingstheboyswouldlove.Valentine’sdinnerthatnightwasapparentlysponsoredbytheTexastravelcommission.
BythetimeIwasreadytogotosleep,Iwastotallydejected.Joshhadn’tcalledortexted,soIstoodinfrontofmybedroomwindowandmadeawishuponastar,justlikeIwassevenandwishingformyparentstostaymarried.
“Starlight,starbright,firststarIseetonight.IwishImay,IwishImight,havethiswishIwishtonight.”IstaredoutatthebrighteststarIcouldfind,narrowedmyeyes,andsaid,“IwishthatIcouldhavetheperfectValentine’sDayandmakethisloopend.”
Iclimbedintobed,hopefulbutrealistic.
Ihadn’tmadeittheperfectday—notevenclose.
ButperhapsIonlyneededtofix,like,onething.Imean,technically,I’dpreventedJoshfromcheatingonme,sothathadtocount,right?
AsIclimbedundermycovers,though,animageofmeinhisfrontseat,squeezedbetweenhimandMacyandNickwhilemybootssmelledlikeFritos,poppedintomyhead.
Yeah,thatpreventionprobablydidn’tcountformuch.CONFESSION#9
Inseventhgrade,IwentthroughaphasewhereItooktaxisalloverthecity,justforsomethingtodowhenIcouldn’thandlebeingaloneanymore.
ANOTHERVALENTINE’SDAY
WhenIwokeupthenextmorningtothatgod-awfulsong,IrealizedthatIhadnoideawhattodonext.IstillthoughtIneededtochangethings,tofixthings,butIcouldn’tfigureoutwhat,exactly.Imadeanewlist.
To-DoList—February14(again)
Takedifferentroutetoschool
ConvinceMrs.Bowenthatshemusthonorscholarship
EnsureJoshandMacycannotkiss
ConvinceDadthathedoesn’twanttomovetoTexas
Itriedtakingadifferentwaytoschool.Istucktotheneighborhoodsallthewaythere,butstillmanagedtocollidewithNick.ThistimehepulledoutrightinfrontofmeonEdgewoodBoulevard.
Hecametomydooragainandpulleditopen.“Hey—youokay?”
Igotoutofthecar.“Youpulledoutrightinfrontofme.”
Nick’seyebrowswentup.“I’msorry?”
“Youshouldbe—thiswholethingcould’vebeenavoided.”Iwasthoroughlyenjoyingplayingthehard-assforonce.“Insuranceinformation,please.”
Hiseyesnarrowed.“Youfirst,sinceyouhitme.”
“Fine.”Iwentbackinmycarandgrabbedtheinfowhilehegrabbedhis.Onceweexchanged,Ilookedathisinsurancecardandsaid,“Stark.NickStark?”
Hedidn’tanswer,butjustlookedatmelikehewasalreadyannoyedbywhatIwasabouttosay.Isaid,“DoyouhaveMr.BongforChemistry?”
Hiseyesnarrowedthetiniestbit.“Yeah…?”
“Huh—Irecognizeyournamefromattendance.Fourthblock?”
“Yup.”
“Hmm—smallworld.”Ipointedtomyengineandsaid,“That’salotofsmoke—Ibetthisthingcatchesfire.Let’smove.”
ThistimeIcalled911whilehelookedathisphone,andthistimeIwaswearingjeans,boots,mywoolpeacoat,andahat,sohedidn’tfetchmethatoldjacket.Hedidoffermearidetoschool,butthistimeIhadaperfectplanforpeace.
AsIbuckledup,Isaid,“Thankyousomuchfortheride.”
Towhichheresponded,“Noproblem.”
AndthenItookmynewbookoutofmybag,openedittothefoldedpage,andstartedreading.SurelyI’dbehisdreampassengerifIreadmybookanddidn’tsayaword,right?HistruckstartedmovingandIstartedreading,butIonlymadeittwosentencesbeforehesaid,“AreyouseriouslyreadingRebeccaDeVosinmycar?”
Ilookedoverathim,tornbetweensurprisethathe’dheardoftheauthorandannoyancethathesoundeddisgusted.“Yeah…?”
“SheisoneofthemostoverratedauthorsinAmericanliterature.Shepuffedupherprosewithsomanyflowery,fluffydescriptionsthatit’shardtoevenfindtheplot.”Hegesturedtomybookandsaid,“Thatstoryisoneoftheworst.I’mnotsureifIeverfiguredoutwhatthemaincharacterlookslikebecauseIhadtouseadictionaryandathesaurustodecipherthefreakingcolors.”
“Letmeguess.”IlookedattheantiqueydashboardofhisoldtruckandthoughtagainwhatamysteryNickwas.Evenafteracoupleofdaysofknowinghim,hedidn’tmakesensetome.Isaid,“You’reabigRaymondCarverfan.”
“Iappreciatehiswork,”hesaid,turningdownthemusic,“butthere’squiteanexpansebetweenDeVosandCarver.IcouldnametwentywriterswhoaremorepurplethanCarverbutless…overblownthanDeVos.”
SocouldI.Iactuallywasn’tlovingthebookandabsolutelyagreedwithhim.Whichstillshockedme.“DinaMarburyisaredhead,bytheway,withpale,flawlessskinandblueeyes.”
Technicallytheywere“eyesthecolorofthebrightestsummersky,cloudlessandceruleanandshimmeringwiththeflawlessnessofthejewelswornbykings,queens,andthesmatteringofmistresseswhodappledtheland,”butbluewascloseenough.
“IknewIwassupposedtorootforher,butbetweenyouandme,IwashappywhenDinawalkedintotheocean.”
“Nick.”Ishutthebookandsaid,“Iwasn’tthereyet—didyouseriouslyjusttellmetheending?”
Hegavealittlelaugh.“Oh,shit—sorry.”
“It’sactuallyokay.”Ireacheddownandshovedthebookintomybag.“Tobehonest,Iprobablywasn’tgoingtofinish.”
“Now,see?”Hehittheturnsignalandslowedforthecorner.“Ididyouafavor.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Sheactuallywalkedintotheocean?Wow,thatsoundsstolenfrom—”
“TheAwakening?”Heglancedoveratmeasthetruckcametoacompletestop.
“Yes!Imean,thatseemslikeaonce-in-a-lifetimebookending,doesn’tit?”
“Exactly.”Nickgavemesomethingclosetoasmilewithhiseyesbeforeturningbacktotheroadandacceleratingasthelightturnedgreen.“Likewewouldn’tnoticethatshestoleEdnaPontellier’sbigfinish.”
Wetalkedaboutbooksfortherestofthedrivetoschool,anditoccurredtomeaswewalkedintothebuildingthatwe’dactuallygottenalongonValentine’sDay.Forthefirsttime.Itfeltlikethestartofabrand-newdayuntilhesaid,“Whyareyousmilinglikethat?”
Iglancedoverathim,hisnosewrinkledupandhiseyebrowslowoversquintedeyes.Isaid,“What?”
“Idon’tknow.Wewerewalkinglikenormalhumans,andthenyoujuststartedscary-grinning.”
“Iwasn’tscary-grinning.”
“Youseriouslywere.”Heshookhishead.“Likesomecreeperwhoenjoystelevisedparadesanddressingcatsinsweaters.”
Inarrowedmyeyes.“Everybodylikescatsinsweaters.”
“Whateveryousay.Igottago.”HesaiditlikeIwantedhimtostayorsomething.AndIdidn’t.SoIsaid,“Ihavetogo,actually.”
“That’swhatIsaid,”hesaid.
“No,yousaidyouhavetogo,likeIwantedyoutowalkwithmewheninallactualityIhavetogo.”
Heraisedhiseyebrows.“Areyouokayhere?”
Ijustshookmyheadandmuttered,“Wonderful.”
Afterthat,Itriedchangingthingswiththecounselorbyshowingupwhentheysentapassandmaturelymakingmycase.Iexplainedallthereasonswhytheyshouldmakeaspotformeintheirsummerprogram,andtheysmiledandpolitelytoldmethatitwasn’tpossibletoaddmorespace.
ThenItriedwaitingforJoshathiscarwithhispresent.AbigpartofmewonderedwhyIwaseventryingatthispoint.IfheandMacyhadfeelingsforeachother,didIevenwanttosalvageourrelationship?ButanotherpartofmeknewIwasrightabouteverythingandthiswasmychancetojumpintothegearsoftimeandensureMacycouldn’truinus.
Iperchedmyselfonhiscar’steensyhood,giftinhand,andwaited.Frozetodeathandwaited.Whenthetwoofthemfinallywalkedoutthesidedoor,Macymust’veseenmebecauseshestoppedandsaidsomethingtoJosh.Beforehecouldspotme,shegrabbedhissleeveandsteeredhimbackinside.
Excuseme?
WhenIgotuptofollowthem,mytightsgotstuckonthecornerofhishoodandgotahugehole,soIkindofwantedtoshankMacybythetimeIgotbackinside.IwasstillfreezingasIwalkeddownthehallway,overcomewithafrustratedsadnessasIrealizedthatthingsmightneverbenormalagain.
WhatifIstayedstuckinthisdayforever?
Meanwhile,inChemistry,NickdecideditwasagoodtimetodiscussthefactthatI’dwornaredsweateronValentine’sDay.
“Aren’tyoujustadorable.”
“What?”
Hegesturedtomyshirtwithhispencil.“Yourwholematchy-matchy,Hallmark-holidayoutfit—supercute.”
“That’snotwhatthisis.”Ilookeddownatmyshirtandsaid,“It’sjustaredsweater.”
“Really?”
“Yes,really.”
Hegavemeaknowinglookandsaid,“Howdoyouexplaintheheartbraceletandmatchingearrings,then?”
Irolledmyeyesandshookmyhead.I’dbeengoingforatersebrush-off,butforsomereason,tearsfilledmyeyesasIsaid,“Don’tyouhaveanythingbettertodothananalyzemyfashionchoices?”
Heleanedalittlecloser,hiseyesallovermyface.“Areyoucrying?”
“NO,”Isaidloudly,butthetearsbetrayedmebyfallingfrommyeyes.
“Oh,fuck—no.”Heswallowedandsaid,“No,no—I’msorry—Iwasjustmessingwithyou.”
“It’sfine,”Isaid,sniffling.“I’mnotcrying.”
“Yes,youare,”hesaidquietly,hiseyesseriousforonceastheystayedfocusedonmyface.“Please,please,stop.”
“Fine,Iamcrying.”Isniffledagain,tryingtokeepittogether.“Butnotbecauseofyou.”
“Promise?”
Irolledmyeyesandswipedatthem.“Yes.”
Itookadeepbreath,tryingtocalmmyself.Inevercried.ButtheideathatIcouldbestuckinthisterribleValentine’sDaypurgatory,forever,wasreallysinkingin.WouldInevergetanyolder?Haveashotatajournalismcareer?Seethetwinsgrowup?Itwasalltoomuch.
“HowcanImakeitstop?”heasked,lookingsouncomfortablethatitwasalmostfunny.“Seriously.”
“I’mfine.”Isniffledandranmyindexfingersundermylowerlashes.ItookadeepbreathandtoldmyselfIcouldfixthis.“Allbetter.”
“But—”Hegavemethesweetestclosed-mouthsmileandsaid,“Yousure?”
Inoddedandcouldn’thelpbutsmileback.“I’mgood.”
“Hallelujah.”Heexhaled,likehewaslettingoutahugesighofrelief,andsaid,“BecausethethoughtofbeingnicetoyoufortherestofChemisalittleexhausting.”
IhalflaughedasIshookmyhead.“It’sthathard?”
Heshrugged.“It’snotthatit’shard,it’sjustthatIpreferwatchingyoublinkfastandgetalloffendedateverythingIsay.”
Anotherrepeatingday,anothereyelosttoover-rollinginthepresenceofNickStark.
Iclosedoutthedaywithanotherfailedattempttoconvincemyfathertostay.
Thistime,Ipointedoutthathecouldn’tleavemygrandmother—widowedandlivingbyherself—andmoveacrossthecountry.Whatwouldshedo?She’dbesoalone,right?Iknewheadoredhismother,sosurelymyargumentwouldshakehismovingresolve.
ButhesmiledwhenIsaidthat.Hesaid,“Shewantstogowithus,Emmie—askher.She’sthrilledaboutwarmweatherandcowboys.”
“Sheis?”
“You’resurprised?”heasked,stillsmiling.
“Well,notaboutthecowboys.”
SonotonlydidIfailtoconvincehim,butIlearnedtheworstnewsever:I’dbelosingGrandmaMaxaswell.Shehadn’tevenmentionedthatpossibilitywhenwe’dtalkedaboutitonthefirstValentine’sDay,butI’dalsobeenabawlingmess,soIdidn’tblameher.
Iwisheduponastar—again—beforegoingtobed,butIwasstartingtolosehopethatafreakingglowingorbintheskyhadanyinterestinhelpingmeatall.
Afterthat,Ibecameobsessedwithchangingtheresults.InanywaythatIcould.Regardingthelostscholarship,Itried:
-Notshowingupwhentheofficecalled
-Showingupandbeggingfortheirmercy
-Fake-cryingwithanabsurdlydetailedfabricatedstoryaboutmygrandfather’sdyingwishtoseemeinthatprogram
-Fake-cryingwithanabsurdlydetailedfabricatedstoryaboutmyelderly—anddying—grandmother’sloveofjournalism
-OfferingMrs.Bowenasmallbribe
Noneofthoseattemptsprovidedmeachangedresult.WithMacyandJosh,Itried:
-Lyinginwaitinmycarandfranticallyhonkingthehorneverytimetheirfacesgotclosetogetherinhislame-asstinyvehicle
-TextingJoshthatIheardarumoraboutMacyandherpesandmouth-rot(notmyfinestmoment)
-ThrowingabaseballatJosh’swindshieldonceheandMacewereensconcedinhisridiculouscar.Theballactuallymadecontactandcrackedthewindow,butmythrowwastooslowandtheirlipstouchedbeforetheresultantballingsoitwasallfornaught.AndIhadtoduckbehindacarandslinkbacktowardthedoorslikeaMarineundersiege.
Nothingwasworking.
Asfarasthecarsituation,Itried:
-Drivingmydad’scartoschool,butIstillhitNick.
-RidingtoschoolwithChris,buthecrashedintoNickinsteadofme.Ironically,IstillendedupcatchingaridewiththesurlyonewhenChrishadtogotothehospitaltogethisneckchecked.
Itriedwalkingtoschool,buteventhenIendedupwithNick.Icouldn’tbelievemyeyes,buthistruckwasparkedonthesideoftheHickoryOakssubdivisionstreetthatledtoourschool—Iwasassuminghelivedinthehousebesideit.Thehoodwasup,andhewasdoingsomethingunderneathit.Itriedquietlywalkingby,butjustwhenIthoughtIwaspastIheardhimsay,“Excuseme—hey.Canyouhelpmeforlikeonesecond?”
Iglancedinhisdirectionandputmyhandonmychest.“Me?”
“Yeah.”
Isaid,“Um,nooffense,butI’masixteen-year-oldgirl—it’snotreallysafeformetohelpstrangers.CanIcallsomeonefor—”
“I’mnotastranger—we’reinthesameChemistryclass.”
What?
SoheactuallyknewIwashislabpartner?Hadhebeenmessingwithmeeverysingletimewe’dmet?Isaid,“Areyousure?Imean,youkindoflookalittlefamiliar,but—”
“Yes,I’msure—wesitatthesametable.Sowillyouhelpme?”
Isteppedoffthecurbandapproachedhim,tryingnottosmileasIfeltsomesortofawinbyhisrecognition.“Whatdoyouneedmetodo?”
Hishairwasalittlewindblown,buthiseyeswerelikethedeepestblueincontrasttotheblackofhiszipped-upjacket.I’dalwaysthoughttheywerebrown,buttheyactuallymademethinkofDeVos’sfloweryprose;she’dkindofnailedhiscolorwiththewholecloudless-summer-skything.
Hesaid,“IjustneedyoutostartmytruckwhileIhooshthisfrozenthingwithstarterfluid,”interruptingmydistractedthoughtsabouthisprettycorneas.“Haveyoueverdrivenastick?”
Iputmyhandsinmypocketsandburiedmyneckalittledeeperinmywoolcoat.“No,butIknowhowtostartacarwithaclutch.”
“Perfect.Wouldyoumind?”
Thesmellofhim—soap,cologne,Ididn’tknowwhatitwas—hitmehard,butIpushedallofthataside.Isaid,“Sure.”
Iwentaroundhistruckandgotin,havingtomovetheseatforwardinorderformyfoottobeabletopushintheclutchalltheway.IleftthedooropensoIcouldwaitforhiscommand,andwhenhesaid“Now,”Iturnedthekey.
Thatoldtruckdidn’twanttoturnover,butNickmust’veknownwhathewasdoingbecauseallofasudden,itroaredtolife.Irevveditalittlebeforeheyelled,“Canyouputitinneutralandleaveitrunning?”
“Sure.”Itfeltfamiliar—comforting—tobeinthisposition.IusedtohelpmydadwhenheworkedonthePorschebydoingthisexactthing,onlyI’dbeentwelveatthetime.Ithrewthetruckintoneutralandgotout.
Nickslammedthehooddownandcamearoundtothedriver’sside.Hesaid,“Thanksalot.Shehatesthecold.”
“She?”
“Thetruck.”
IrolledmyeyesandmyNick-warmthwentaway.“Ihatethatsomuch.”
“What?”Helookedinterested,butnotoffended.“Whatdoyouhate?”
“Whenmenfeeltheneedtorefertotheirbelovedvehicleasfemale.”
Thatmadehimgivemethesmart-asssmilethatI’dgrownaccustomedtooverthecourseofourrepeating-daysrelationship.“Whyisthat?”
“It’sjustsosexist.Itringsofthepatriarchyandofmenobjectifyingwomen.Like,Ilovethisbeautifulpieceofmetalsomuchthatitverynearlyturnsmeon.Likewoman.”
Hissmileheldashesaid,“Itwasmybrother’struck,fortherecord,andhenicknamedit‘Betty’becauseitusedtobelongtoourgreat-auntBetty.AndwealsohaveadognamedBetty.”
“So,fine.”Ishruggedandsaid,“I’maragingfeministlunatic,Iguess.”
“Youguess.”
“Yeah,Iguess.”Irolledmyeyesandjustfelt…outofsortsallofasudden.“Technically,I’mstartingtothinkI’mjustastraight-uplunaticacrosstheboard.”
Hecrossedhisarmsoverhischest.“Youdoingokayhere?”
“No,I’mnotdoingokayhere!”Isighedandgroanedandwonderedhowmanymoretimeshewasgoingtoaskmethatbeforemyprematuredeathfromtime-loopfrustration.Ishookoutmyhandsandtriedmymantra—Youareontopofthis—butitdidn’tworkandIgroanedagainandyelled,“I’mactuallyfuckingTERRIBLEandsomethingWEIRDishappeningtome,butitisSOWEIRDthatIcan’teventalkaboutit!”
“Wow.”Nick’smouthkickedupalittleatthecorners,andthenheactuallylaughed.“Itmustbeveryweirdtomakesomeonelikeyouhaveameltdownlikethat.”
Isighedandsaid,“Youhavenofuckingidea.”
Thatmadehimlaughagain—sweetLordhewasahandsomeboywhenhewasn’tbeinganass—andhesaid,“Doyouwantaride?Toschool?Imean,I’mgoingthereandifyou’rewalkingthere—thisisprobablyfaster.Andwarmer.”
Whowasthisniceandcharmingperson?Ituckedmyhairbehindmyearsandsaid,“Thatwouldbegreat.Thankyou.”
Ipickedupmybagandgotinthetruck,suddenlynervous.WhichwasbizarrebecauseitfeltlikeI’dbeeninthattrucktwentytimes,andIhadn’tbeennervousanyofthosetimes.Ofcourse,he’dbeenajerkallofthosetimes;NiceNickwasnew.
“Doyoualwayswalktoschool?”Nickgotbehindthewheelandpushedintheclutch.“I’msurprisedI’veneverseenyoubefore.”
“No,”Isaid,bucklingmyseatbelt.“Todaywas,um,kindoflikeanexperiment.”
“Andthefindingswere…?”
IstraightenedanddaredtoglanceatNick,whowaswaitingformyanswerwithanamusedexpressiononhisface.Isaid,“ThefindingswereinconclusivebecauseIwaspulledofftheexperimenttobeaGoodSamaritantothisguywithabroken-downcar.”
“Bummerontheexperiment,buttheguysuresoundscool.”
Ididlaugh,then,unabletoresist.“Hemightbecool,butIhaveitongoodauthoritythathe’sactuallyagrouchyhermitwhowon’tevenspeaktohislabpartnerinChemistry.”
“Iknewyourecognizedme.”Hepointedwhenhesaidit,grinning,andIcouldn’tbelievetheirony.“MissI-don’t-talk-to-strangers.”
Ilaughedalittlemoreandsaid,“Youcanneverbetoocareful.”
“Ofcourse,”hesaid,turninghiseyesbacktotheroad.
“Didyoufinishthereadingfortoday?”Iasked,wonderinghowsomeonecouldsmellsogoodbutalsososubtle.Itwasn’tliketheexpensivecologneJoshwore—whichIenjoyed—butmorelikefreshbodywashordryersheets.Icouldhyperventilateonhiscleanliness.“Itotallyforgot,soI’mgoingtohavetocramnexthour.”
“Ididn’tdothereading,butIneverdo.”Hehithisturnsignalandmadealeftintothejuniorparkinglot.“Iwaituntilthenightbeforeatest,likeallnormalhighschoolstudents.”
“You’recallingmeabnormal?”
Hepulledintotheshockinglyopenspotinthefirstrowbeforesaying,“I’mcallingyouunique.”
Imust’vemadeafacebecausehegavemealittlesmileasheturnedoffthetruckandsaid,“What?Imeantitasacompliment.”
Iunbuckledmyseatbeltandopenedthedoor.“Iknow—that’swhat’sweird.”
Hesettheemergencybrake,pocketedhiskeys,andgrabbedhisbackpackfromwhereitsatbetweenus.“Whyisthatweird?I’veneverinsultedyou.”
Now,he’dinsultedmehandfulsoftimesinthatverytruck,butsofar,thatday,hewasafreakingdelight.SoIsaid,“Well,no,”andgotout.
Hecamearoundtomysideandwewalkedintoschooltogether.Hedidn’tsayanythingelse,nordidI,buthisscentwasinmynoseandIwasfeelingwarmandtinglyasthesnowsqueakedunderourshoes.
Whenwegotinside,andIpointedsouthbecauseIhadtoturndownthefirsthallwaytogofindChris,hestopped.Helookeddownintomyeyeswithhisridiculouslyblueonesandsaid,“Idon’tknowwhattheterriblethingisthatyou’redealingwithandcan’ttalkabout,butwhenallelsefails,Isayfuck’em.”
Iswallowedandforgothowtotalk,becauseblueeyeswerepointeddirectlyatmeinashiveryway,andInoticedhownicehismouthwas.Ifumbledforwordsandmanaged,“I,um,reallydon’t—”
Hereachedoutahand,tuggedlightlyonthepieceofhairthathadcomeoutofmyponytail,andhesaid,“Fuck’em,Emilie.”
Andthenhewalkedaway.
Iwentthroughthemotions,andwhentheycalledmedowntotheofficeliketheydideveryday,Iactuallyshowedupandspokethetruth.IlookedatMrs.Bowenandsaid,“CanIbehonest?Thisisdevastatingtomyplans;Iwascountingonthisforscholarshipapplications.Isthereanalternateprogramthatmighthaveanopening?”
Iexpectedmydailyrejection,butshetiltedherheadandpursedherlipsinstead.ShestartedtalkingtoMr.KessleraboutaprogramIwasunawareof,andthenshelefttheroomtomakeacall.
IaskedMr.Kessler,“Doyouknowthisprogram?”
Henodded.“Ido.It’svery,verygoodandwouldlookgreatonanapplication.”
“DoyouthinkIhaveashot?”Afeelingthatwassomethinglikehopebubbledupinsideofme.
Heshruggedandgavemeanencouragingdad-smile.“Anything’spossible.”
Mrs.Bowencamebackthen,butshehadn’tbeenabletoreachthepersonshe’dhopedtospeakwith.Shesaidshewould“dosomechecking”andgetbacktome,andIcouldtellshemeantit.
Whenshewasleaving,sheapologizedagain,onlythistimesheadded,“Wewillfindawaytomakethisright,Emilie.Youhavemyword.”
ThingswereliningupinawaythathadmeoptimisticaboutmyFebruary15chances.
Afterclass,Imadetheadultdecisiontonotevengonearthehallway-exitparkinglotwhereI’drepeatedlyseenJoshstepoutwithMacy.Hopefullytheuniversethatwasworkingformesofarthatdaywouldkeepthemfromkissing,butatleastthisway,Iwouldn’thavetoseeitiftheydid.
It’dbethewholetree-falling-in-the-forestthing;ifIwasn’ttheretoseeit,diditreallyeverhappen?
Imean,yes,whenIletmyselfpictureit—picturethem—mystomachstillhurtandIfeltlikeafool,butIneededtoputthatoutofmymindandnailmyperfectdayifIeverwantedlifetoreturntonormal.
Iwasmeticulouswithmyintentions,doingmybesttobeextranicetoeveryoneandextraattentiveinclass.IevensmiledwhenIpassedLauren,Lallie,andNicoleinthehallway.
WhenIgottoChemistry,Nickwasalreadyatourtable.Itookadeepbreath,nervousforsomereasonthatIdidn’tchoosetoexplore,andwalkedovertomyspot.
HeglancedupwhenIsetmybagonthefloorandsaid,“Hey.”Smiled.“It’syou.”
Isatdownandsaid,“Itisme.”
Mycheekswerehotasweexchangedsomekindofahey-I-know-you-from-this-morninglook.Hiseyestrailedovermyfacebeforehesaid,“Thanksagainforhelpingmethismorning.”
Ishrugged.“Thanksagainfortheride.”
“Listenup,”Mr.Bongsaidashewalkedintotheclassroom,hiseyesonthephoneinhishandashewalkedovertohisdesk.“It’spop-quiztime,soIneedeveryonewhositsontherightsideoftheirlabtabletomovetotheseatdirectlybehindthem.”
Bongalwaysmadeusswitchseatsforexamsbecauseheseemedtothinkwewerecheatingcollusionistswithourlabpartners.SinceIwasontherightside,Igrabbedmybag.
“Wait.”Nickpickeduphisphonefromwhereitwasrestingontopofthetableandsaid,“GivemeyournumberandI’lltextyou.”
IfeltmymouthdropopenandItriedbeingcool,butNickwasaskingmeformyphonenumber.Whatwashappening?NickStarkwasaskingformynumber,andIkindofwantedtogiveittohim.Igaveahalf-laugh,suddenlynervous,andsaid,“WhywouldIdothat,exactly?”
Hejustsaid,“You’llfindoutwhenItextyou.Number,please.”
Itoldhim,andhepunchedthenumbersintohisphone.
Myphonelitup.Nick:Guesswho?
Ismiledandmovedtotheseatattheothertablebeforeresponding.Me:Mysurlylabpartner…?
Nick:It’sthecoolguywhogaveyouaridetoschool.
Thatmademesmile.Me:Ah—THATguy.
Nick:Doyouwantaridehome?
Igasped.Like,literallygasped.Because—dearLord:WasNickStarkaskingmeout–ish?Whatwasthisday?Whowasthisboy?
Whatwashappening?
Me:I’vegotaride,butthankyouSOmuch!
WhenIpressedsend,anunexpectedfeelingsettledinmychest.Itwassomethinglike…regret.
ButIwasonthevergeofpossiblyescapingthefourteenthofFebruary,andIcouldn’triskit.Ineededtoperfecttherestoftheday,andthatincludedValentine’sDaywithmyboyfriend.
Nick:SoifBettydoesn’tstart,you’reunavailableforturnoverduty?
WhywasIdisappointedthatIwasunavailableforturnoverduty?
Me:Unfortunatelyyes.ButI’msuretherearelotsofstrangersyoucouldsummonwhocanstartyourtruck.
Nick:Wearen’tstrangers,remember?
Iglancedoverathim,andhewaslookingdirectlyatmewithoneeyebrowraisedandasmirkonhislips.Ifeltalittlelight-headedasItexted:Oh,yes—that’sright.
Mr.Bongstartedhandingoutquizzes,andweweren’tabletotalkortextfortherestofthehour.Whichwasgood;Ineededtostayfocused.ThesecondIturnedinmyquiz,IlefttheroomwithoutevendaringtoglanceinNick’sdirection.
Istayedhappyandniceandpositivethroughtherestoftheday,andwhenIrushedtomeetJoshathislockerafterschool,heturnedandsmiledatmewithahugegrin.
“ThankGod—thankGod.”Heleanedforwardandpressedhisforeheadagainstmine.“It’sValentine’sDayandIhaven’tevenseentheEmmieofmyheartyet.WhereinGod’snamehaveyoubeenhidingallday?”
Ismiledupathim,butatinypartofmewaswonderingifhe’dkissedMacy.Andifhehadn’t,hadhewantedto?Hadtheytalkedandflirtedasthey’dgoneonthecoffeerun?Helookedthesameasalways,butsomethinginsideofmefeltdifferentwhenIlookedathim.
Ipushedthatnonsenseawayandsaid,“Nowhere.DoyouhavetimetoopenmypresentbeforeMockTrial?”
Heturnedawayfrommeandreachedintohislockerwhilesaying,“Onlyifyouhavetimetoopenmine.”
Thatmademetease,“IguessIcanfindamoment.”
Thefirstpackagehegavemewasarectangularbox—obviouslychocolates.Irippedoffthepaper,thensmiledathim.“Myfavoritedinner—thankyou.”
“Ofcourse,”hesaid,coveringhisheartwithbothofhishands.“Sweetsforthesweet.”
“Andfromthesweet,”Iadded,grinningbecauseitwasromanticandalsotheperfectwordstobesaidontheperfectValentine’sDay.Ididn’twanttogetaheadofmyself,butitfeltlikeImightjustbegettingitright.
“Nowthis,mysweet,”hesaid,holdingoutasmallsquarebox.
Iexhaledonalaugh,caughtupinhissmileandthefestivityofthegifts.Ipulledopenthewhitegiftbox,andnestledinsidewasasilverbracelet.Iraisedmyeyestohis,andhewasgrinningexpectantly.
Iwaitedforanexplanation,butaftertwosecondsofsmilingblanklyathim,Isquealed,“Omigosh,Josh,Iloveitsomuch—thankyou!”
Asheinsistedonputtingitonme,Isaidnothing,dreadingtherashthatwouldcovermyskinwithinhours.BecauseI’dtoldJoshanentirestory—lastweek—abouthowsilvermademebreakout.Yes,peoplesometimesforgotthings,butithadbeenalongstorythatincludedatriptotheERandhe’dcommentedonhowifwe’dbeendatingatthattime,hewould’vesmuggledinapizzaformetoeat.
Sonowhewasbuyingmesilver?
Ipushedthatdown,though,forthesakeofaperfectday,andwatchedhimopenthewatchband.Helovedit—Iknewhewould—anditmadehimwraphisarmsaroundmeandkissmebigonthelips,schoolhallwaybedamned.
Whenhepulledbackandlookeddownatme,Igrinned.Clearedmythroat.ThenItookthedeepestofbreaths,lookedathisbrowneyes,andsaid,“Ilove—”
“Notyet!”Heheldupafingerandsaid,“Notanotherworduntilyouhearmypoem.”
Iclosedmymouth,alittleshaken.HadheknownwhatIwasabouttosay?Hewasgivingmeahugesmile,soIdidn’tthinkso.
Hereadmethepoemhe’dwritten,sayingIfitintohispoemsliketheperfectrhyme,andhewrappedmeupinabighug.Itwasbeautiful,likeallhispoetry,andafterwardIsmiledthroughthehallwaysasIheadedforChris’scar.Loveisnotwhatis,butwhatisn’t.Myearsaren’thappywhensheisn’tspeaking;myfingersbereftwhenherskinisabsent
Ihadn’thadachancetosayit—Iloveyou—butIwasokaywiththat.He’dusedtheword“love”inhispoemaboutme,sothatwasalmostlikehe’dsaiditfirst,andIcouldstilltellhimwhenhecalledmelaterthatnight.
WhenIgotoutsideandthecoldhitmeintheface,IheardthehornbeforeIsawChris.Thatgoofysmart-asswashonkingtothetuneof“WeWillRockYou,”andIwascryingfromlaughterbythetimeIreachedhiscar.
“Couldyoubeanyslower?”heyelledoutthewindow.
“I’msureIcould,”Iyelledback,laughingevenharderwhenIreachedforthedoorhandleanditwaslocked.“Letmein!”
“Fine.”Hehitunlockandsaid,“ButonlybecauseIneedtenbucksforgas.”
“Typical.”Igotinhiscarandclosedthedoor,andasIslammeditshut,IsawNickStarkonerowover,messingwithhistruck’sengine.Irolleddownthewindowandyelledinhisdirection,“Doyouneedhelp?”
HiseyesraisedfromthemotorofhiscartomyfaceandIwasinstantlywarm.Hewasdoingthatsarcastichalf-smilethingwhenheyelled,“Nooffense,butI’masixteen-year-oldguy.Itisn’treallysafeformetotalktostrangers.”
Ilaughedandyelled,“We’renotstrangers,NickStark.”
Hishalf-smilewentwideandwhole.“That’sright—we’repartners.”
IlaughedagainandIheardChrismakeanoise.Iignoreditandsaid,“Seriously,though—doyouneedhelp?Oraride?”
“WhatamI—yourUbernow?”Chrismuttered.
“No,butthanks,”Nicksaid.“She’sactuallyrunningnowsoI’mgood.”
“Well,okay,then.”WhywasIdisappointed?“Seeyou.”
Hegavemealookthatwassuspended—frozen—beforelifewentbacktofullspeed.
“Hey,hon.”Mydadcameoutofthekitchenwithadishtoweloverhisshoulder.“Howwasschool?”
Ismiledandsetdownmybag.IhadalreadytakenoffJosh’sbraceletontheridehomeandshoveditdeepinapocketofmybackpacksoIwouldn’thavetothinkaboutit.Tomydad,Isaid,“Good.Hey—canItalktoyouforaquicksecond?”
“Ihavetostirmysauce,butsure.”
Ifollowedhimintothekitchenandclimbedontooneofthecounterstools.Hewasmakingspaghettiandmeatballs—GrandmaMax’srecipe—anditsmelledamazing.
“What’sup?”
Ireachedoutandgrabbedanapplefromthefruitbowl.“Momtoldmeaboutthepromotion.”Alie,ofcourse,butIwasgettingaheadofthis.
“Christ—areyoukiddingme?”Mydad’sshouldersdroppedandhelookedpissed.“ItoldherIwantedtotalktoyoufirst—”
“No—it’sokay.”Itookabiteoftheappleandsaid,“ShemisunderstoodsomethingIsaidandthoughtIalreadyknew.”
“Oh.”Heclosedhismouthandstirredhissauce,lookingdeepinthought.Mydadwasoneofthosedadswhomaintainedayoungervibe;like,hehadallofhishairandhadn’tgottensoftyet.Thatbeingsaid,therewereafewgrayhairsinhistemplesthathintedathistrueage.
“Yeah,so,canIbehonesthere?Iwantyouguystobeabletomovetoyourdreamtownorwhatever.Ireallydo.But,”Isaid,tryingtogetthecouragetosayitintherightway,“Ihatethethoughtofyoumovingawayfromme.Like,IloveMom,buthomeiswhenI’mwithyou.”
Myvoicecrackedattheendandeverythinginsideofmewantedtoclarifythatitwasfineandheshouldn’tworryaboutit,butIforcedmyselfnotto.Ilookeddownattheredskinofmyapple.
“Wow.Um,I’mgoingtobehonesthere,Em—Ididn’texpectthis.”Ilookedupintimetoseehimrubthebackofhisnecklikehewasuncomfortable.“IguessIthoughtitwouldn’tmattermuchtoyou.”
“Thatyou’removingacrossthecountry?”Iblinkedfastbecausecryingneverhelpedanything.Istillcouldn’tbelieveI’dmelteddownlikeababyinfrontofNickinChem,evenifhehadnoideaithadhappened.“Howcoulditnotmatter?You’remydad.Theboysaremybrothers.Thisismyhome.”
Hestoppedstirring.“Butyouseemsohappywithyourmom.IguessIjust…”
“Assumed.Youassumed.”Itfeltbitteronmytongue,andtherewassomuchmoreIcouldsay,butIdidn’twanttomartheperfectday.“IloveMom,butyouaremyhome.”
HeswallowedandIsawhisnostrilsflarebeforehesaid,“Oh,Em—I’msosorry.”
Ishookmyheadandfoughtbacktears.“Don’tbe.Youdidn’tknowbecauseIneversaidanything.”I’dneverwantedtorocktheboat.“AndIdon’twanttokeepyoufrommoving.Ijust,um,Idon’tknow—Ithoughtmaybewecouldfindsomeoptionstomakethiswork.”
Hecamearoundthecounterandsatdownonthestoolbesideme.Hetoldmeit’dbeenkillinghim,thethoughtofnotbeingabletoseemeeveryday,andhesaidwe—he,Lisa,andme—wouldsitdowntomorrowandfindawaytomakeitwork.
WhenIwentuptomyroomthatnight,Iwasbuzzingwithhappiness.IfeltclosertomydadthanIhadinages,Ihadn’twreckedmycar,asummerprogramwasstillapossibility,andJoshandIhadhadaperfectValentine’sDay.
Iclimbedintobedandthoughtaboutthesilverbracelet.Imean,itwasverypretty,anditlookedexpensive.WhywasImakingabigdealabouthimforgettingmyallergy?
Myphonebuzzed,andIreachedforwhereitwaschargingonthenightstand.IthoughtitwouldbeJosh,butitwasNickStark.
Nick:YourChapStickisinmytruck.
Me:What?
Nick:IjustgothomeandwhenIgrabbedmybackpack,yourChapStickwasonthefloorunderneathit.
HehadtobetalkingaboutmyBurt’sBees,whichIhadn’tbeenabletofindallday.
Nick:I’llbringittoChemistry,butIjustwantedtoletyouknow.
Me:Thanks.How’dyoudoonthequiz?
Nick:Acedit.
Me:Wow.Cocky.
Nick:Guilty.I’vegothellaChemswagger.
Me:YoureallyAREacoolguy.
Nick:Iknow.SodidyourBFgiveyouValentine’sflowers?
Me:Candyandabracelet,actually.
Nick:Soareyouwearingyourjewelsrightnowwhilejammingchocolateintoyourfacehole?
ThatmademelaughandItexted:Ileftthecandyinmyfriend’scarandthebraceletgavemearash,sobigno.
Nick:Holyshit—hegotyouabraceletthatturnsyourarmgreen??
Isighedandstartedtotext,but,beforeIevenreallyknewwhatIwasdoing,Ifoundmyselfhittingthecallbutton.
“Hello?”
“Thebraceletdidn’tturnmyarmgreen.I’mallergictosilver.”
“Firstofall,isthatreallyathing?”heasked.“Andsecond,Ibethewishesyouwould’vetoldhimthatlittletidbitofpersonalinfobeforehedroppedcoinonyourbaubles.”
“Itisathing—Iamallergic.”Igrabbedmysodaoffthenightstandandsaid,“AndIdidtellhim.Hemust’vejustforgotten.”
“Letmegetthisstraight.”Hisvoicewasdeepandalittlegravelly,likehe’djustwokenup.“YoutoldJoshSutton,arguablythesmartestkidatourschool,thatyou’reallergictosilver.AndthenheboughtyouasilvernecklaceforValentine’sDay.”
“Bracelet.”
“Whatever.He’sclearlytryingtokillyou.”
Istartedlaughing,inspiteofwantingtochokehimformakingmedoubtJosh.“Heisnot.”
“Areyousure?”Icouldhearthesmileinhislow,quietvoice.“Imean,youcanneverbetoocareful.”
“I’veheardthat.”Iclearedmythroatandcouldn’tbelieveIwastalkingtoNickStarkonthephone.ThatIhadcalledhim.“Sowherewereyouallnight?”
“Whoa—backoff,creeper.”
“Shutit,”Isaidthroughanotherlaugh.“Wereyouworking?”
“Iwas.”
“And…?Wheredoyouwork?”
“ShouldIbealarmedbyhowinterestedyouareinmycomingsandgoings?”
“Absolutelynot.”Irememberedwhathethoughtaboutsmalltalk,soIsaid,“Iwasjusthopingyoucangetmeaheftydiscountatoneofmyfavoriteplaces.Bookstore,coffeeshop,pizzadelivery—anyofthosewouldworkforme.Ilikehavingconnections.”
“So.”Hesoundedalittlemoreawake.“You’dliketouseouracquaintanceforyourpersonalgain,isthatwhatyou’resaying?”
“Precisely.”Ismiledintothequietofmybedroomandsaid,“Althoughyouneedn’tmakeitsoundsomercenary.”
“Well,Ihatetodisappointyou,butIworkat402Ink.Atattooshop.”
Heworkedatatattooshop?
Everyoneknewthathe’dgottentattooslastyear—asasophomore—sothatmadehimseemwildlyedgysincethelegalagewithoutpermissionwaseighteen.Buttoworkthere?Thatwassomestraight-upstreetcred.
“I’mnotdisappointed,”Isaid,picturingthesmirkthatwouldcurlhislipwhenIsaid,“I’mplanningongettingtwomassivesleevesnextweek,sothisisperfect.”
“Sureyouare.”
“Youdon’tknow.”
“IthinkIdo.”
Igaveanodinagreement,eventhoughhecouldn’tseeit,andasked,“Whatdoyoudothere?”
“Everythingthatisn’tatattoo.Answerphones,socialmedia,website,cashregister—I’mtheirbitch,prettymuch.”
“Oh.”Ilaybackonmypillowandpulledthecoversuptomyshoulders.“Thatsoundsinteresting,actually.”
“You’dthink.”Hesoundedlikehewaswalkingwhenhesaid,“Whataboutyou?Job?”
“IworkatHexCoffee.”
“Really?Huh—I’msurprisedI’veneverseenyouthere.”
“Yougotherealot?”
“No.Iactuallyhatecoffee.”
Thatmademesnort.“Ofcourseyoudo.”
“I’mmoreofateaguy.”
“Lyingagain?”
“IseriouslydrinkfourtofivecupsofSleepytimeeveryday.”
“Youhavetobelying.”
“SweartoGod.”
Itriedpicturinghimdrinkingteaandfrankly,itwastooadorable.HegaveoffstrongJessMarianovibeswhenhetalkedaboutbooks,andtheteajustmadeitbigger.Isaid,“Ihatetea.”
“Youwould.”
“Youaren’tgoingtotrytoconvincemethatI’mwrong?”Joshlovedteaandwasalwaystryingtogetmetotryhis.“Teadrinkersareusuallypusherswhoswearbythefactthatifyoujusttryteathewaytheydrinkit,you’lllikeit.”
“WhywouldIcarewhatyoudrink?”
“I…havenoidea.”
“Listen,Ihavetogo.Ijustdidn’twantyoufreakingoutandlosingyourever-lovingshitoveryourChapStick.”
“Iwasaboutto,soyourcallismostappreciated.”
“Youseemthetype.”
“Iknow.”
Hemadealittlelaughsoundandsaid,“SorryaboutyourterribleValentine’spresents,bytheway.”
“It’sfine.”Thatmademelaughagain.“What’dyougetyourgirlfriend?”
“Girlfriend—please.Idon’thavetimeforthat.”
“Butifyoudid…?”
Idon’tknowwhy,butIreallywantedtoknow.
“IfIdid?Idon’tknow—notchocolatesandanaphylaxis,that’sforsure.”
Ilaughedagainandsaid,“Comeon.Commitalready.”
“Fine.”Hemadeagrowlysoundandsaid,“Uh,somethingthatmatteredtoher,Iguess.Imean,ifshewasabookishpersonlikeyou,I’dtrytofindaspecialeditionofherfavoritebookorsomething.”
“Oh.”Iwasn’tevengoingtoletmymindgothere,totheutterfantasticalgiftpossibilities.
“ButsomeonerecentlytoldmethatI’mkindofasurlyperson,sogiftsandHallmarkholidayskindofaren’tmything.”
“Ah.”Ithoughtbacktothatmorningathistruckandsaid,“Bummeronthesurliness,butthegirlsuresoundscool.”
Thatmadehimfallintoacharminghoarselaughthattrickledthroughmyveinsanddippedallthewaydowntothetipsofmytoes.“G’night,EmilieHornby.”
“G’nighttoyou,NickStark.”
I’djustpressedendwhenatextcamethrough.
Josh:Salutations,sweetValentine.
IfeltguiltyasIresponded.Me:Greetings.
Josh:We’reswampedsoIcan’tcalluntilbreak,butIwantedtosendaquickhello,incaseyoufallasleep.
Me:Rightbackatcha.
Josh:Areyouwearingyourbracelet?
Me:Nope—inbed.
Josh:Irememberedthatyouloveshinythingsanditremindedmeofyoursmile.
Ididn’tparticularlylikeshinythings—Iwasn’tablinggirl—andhowwouldasilverchainbraceletremindhimofmysmile,anyway?What—mysmileinsixthgrade,whenIhadamouthfullofbracesandworeheadgearwhenIslept?
IcouldstillhearNickStark:Somethingthatmatteredtoher
Itexted:Awwwww.<3Butthepoemwastheshiniestgift
Josh:Sweetie.Gottarun.Lates,Emmiecakes.
Me:Lates.
Ipluggedthephonebackintothecharger,turnedoffthelight,andsettledintomypillow.IreallyhadhadagreatValentine’sDaywithJosh—poetryandjewelry,whatmorecouldagirlaskfor,really?It’dbeeneverythingI’dwantedoutoftheday,evenbeforefallingintothisabyssofrepetitivedays.
Theperfectboyfriend,checkingoffnearlyalloftheromanceboxesI’djotteddowninmyplanner.
Sowhydidn’tIfeelmore…Idon’tknow…swoonwhenIthoughtabouthim?TheMacything,ofcourse,butthiswassomethingelse.He’dwrittenapoemaboutme,butsomehowthethoughtofNickStarktalkingaboutwhathe’dbuyforahypotheticalgirlfriendwasmoresweepy-off-my-feetythanpoetry.
Iquicklyshutdownthattrainofthought.IknewnothingaboutNickStark—otherthanwhathelikedtoread,whathelistenedto,whathesmelledlike,whereheworked,howhislaughsoundedwhenhewassleepyoverthephone—andhewasprobablythejerkI’dalwaysthoughthimtobe.
Joshwasperfectforme,andIwasjusttired.
Ididn’twishonastarthatnight.Thedayhadbeensoclosetoperfect—insuchanorganicway—thatIdidn’tneedthegalaxy’shelp.
Igotthis,MilkyWay
Ifellasleep,notevennoticingthat,withtalkingtoNickonthephone,Ihadforgottentosay“Iloveyou”toJosh.CONFESSION#10
WhenIwasthree,IusedtochaseBillyTubbsdowntheblock,andifIcaughthim,Itackledhimtothegroundandbithimalloverhisback.Mydadsayshecriedeverytimehesawme.
YETANOTHERGODFORSAKENVALENTINE’SDAY
MyalarmwentoffandIhurledthephoneacrosstheroom.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooo!”
“WalkingonSunshine”keptplayingafterthephonehitthewallandlandedsomewhereinthedark,butinsteadofretrievingitIjustburiedmyfaceinmypillowandfull-onscreameduntilIwasoutofbreath.
Iwasinhell.
Howcouldthatdaynothavechangedthecourseofevents?
Igrabbedmyrobeandwentintothebathroomtoshower.Again.Istartedthewaterandsteppedin,knowingwhatwascoming.Icountedtofiveandthen—
“Em,areyoualmostdoneinthere?”
Bingo.Lisawasgoingtopresshermouthagainstthedoorjambandtellmethatmylittlebrotherneededtousethebathroom.Justlikeeveryotherday,Iyelled,“Ijustgotinhere.”
“Joelneedstogopotty.Bad.”
“Thereisabathroomupstairs.”Ipouredshampoointomyhandandrubbeditonmyhead.Iknewwhatheranswerwasgoingtobe,butitsomehowseemedimportanttoplaythegame.
“Yourdad’sinthere.”
ThistimeIyelled,“Dousehimwithicewaterandhe’lljumprightout.”
Therewasapausebeforeshemurmuredthroughthewood,“You’reseriouslynotgoingtogetout?”
Ithoughtaboutitforasecondandcameupwith,“Idon’tthinkso.Sorry.”
Whoa.Irubbedmyhairharderasonethoughtsuddenlyovertookallothersinmybrain.
I.Had.Immunity.
Yes,beingstuckinaneternalValentine’sDaypurgatorywastheworst,butwhatIhadn’tconsidereduntilnowwasthatIcoulddowhateverIwantedandnotfaceanyofthefallout.
IcouldabsolutelyuseNickStark’swordsasmymantrafortheday.
Fuck’em.
Itookanextremelylongshowerinhonorofthatfact,andbythetimeIgotoutanddriedmyself,Ihadanepiphany.
IcouldsaywhateverIwantedtoanyone,anditwouldbeerasedthenextday.Icouldn’tgetgroundedorsuspendedorevenarrested,becausethenextmorningI’dbebackinmybedatmydad’shouse,walkingonfreakingsunshine,andnoonewouldremembermytransgressions.
Letthegamesbegin.
Igotoutoftheshowerandwentstraighttomyplanner.
To-DoList—February14:DAYOFNOCONSEQUENCES
WHATEVERIFUCKINGFEELLIKE
InsteadofrushingtofreeupthebathroomlikeIusuallydid,Idraggedastoolinfrontofthevanity.IcrankedthevolumeonmyphoneandblaredthenewVolbeatalbumwhileIspentfartoolongmakingon-pointeyelinertails.Iwentfull-ongoodmakeupandstraightenedmyhairsoIcouldputitintheperfecthighponytail.
“Nottooshabby,Em.”Ilookedatmyreflection.Interesting.Asitturnedout,ifyouspentanentirehouronyourappearance,youlookedprettygood.Ileanedforwardandblottedmyredlipstickagainstthemirror,leavingaperfectmouthprint.
Next,Iwentintomyclosetanddug,knowingexactlywhatIwasgoingtoweartoschool.Ihadthecuuuutestblackleatherpants,butI’dneverhadthegutstowearthemtoschoolbecausetheyweretightwithacapitalT-I-G-H-T
Andsonotme.OratleastthemethateveryonethoughtIwas.Butthepantsmademybuttlookkiller,soIwasgoingtowearthehelloutofthosebadboys.
IpairedthemwithmysoftestcashmeresweaterandthesuedebootsI’donlywornonce,andIhoppeddownthestairswithmybackpack,humminginanticipationofwhatwasdestinedtobeaTopTenday.
I’dheardmydadleavewhileIflat-ironedmyhair,soitwasjustLisaandthetwinsleftathome.IwalkedintothekitchenandwentstraightforthelastleftoversliceofFrenchsilkpie.
Thetwinswereintheirlittlekiddieseatsatthetable,jammingpiecesofpancakesintotheirpoutymouthsandlookingdisgustinglyadorable.IlaughedasLoganpushedhissippycupoffthetableandwatcheditlandonthefloor.
Littleturd
Lisapickeditupandsetitbesidehim.Herfacewastense,soIknewshewaspissedaboutmyrefusaltogetoutoftheshowerforJoel.
ButIdidn’tcare—nottoday.
NormallyIbentoverbackwardtobetheperfecthouseguest.Imadeahugeeffort—allthetime—tomakemydadandLisaforgethowmuchtidiertheirnewlifewouldbeifitwerejustthefourofthem.
Today,however—screwit.Screwtheguiltandthebendingover.Igrabbedaforkandatethechocolatepiestraightfromthetin,andwhenIwasfinished,Idumpeditintothesinkwithoutevenrinsingit.
“Hey.Lisa.”Iturnedaroundandgavehermybiggestsmile.“DoesmydadstillkeepthekeystothePorscheinhisworkbenchinthemudroom?”
“Why?”Shecrossedherarmsoverherchestandglancedatthepiepaninthesink.Which,tobehonest,wasbotheringme,too.Thedishwasherwasrightnexttothesink;whywouldanyoneleaveadishinthesink?
Iforcedmyselftoignorethepan.
“I’mrunninglateandneedsomethingwithalittlemorekickthanmycar.”OntheDayofNoConsequences—whichIwouldhenceforthrefertoastheDONC—aPorschewouldservemebetterthanthevan.
Withoutbotheringtowaitforananswer,Iranintothemudroomandpulledopenthedrawer.“Sweet—hedoes.”
“Nowwaitjustaminute.Didyourfathersayyoucouldtakehiscar?”
Hewouldnever.Helovedthatcar.Adoredit.Wouldtongue-batheitifthatwereguaranteedtoforeverprotecttheshinyblackpaint.MydadhadboughtthecrappyoldPorschefromajunkyardwhenIwasakidandspentcountlesshoursfixingitupwithmyUncleMick.Itdidn’tlookthatcool,butitwasfastandsleek.
AndalsonotanAstrovan.
“Don’tworryaboutit.Youguyshaveagreatday,’kay?”
“Emilie,youarenottakingthatcar,doyouhearme?”
Itiltedmyheadandturnedmylipsdownward.“Ihearyou,hon,butI’mafraidIamtakingthecar.Toodles.”
Ileftandclosedthedoorbehindme,halfexpectinghertochasemeoutintothedriveway.Toodles?IgiggledasIrealizedwhatI’djustdoneandsaid.
IhummedasIwentintotheunattachedgarageandgotthePorschebeforeLisacouldstopme.Thatbabypurredtolife,andIpushedmyaviatorsupthebridgeofmynoseandsquealedoutofthedrivewayfasterthanyoucouldsayBitchgotitgoin’on
Wow.IstompedonthegasandflewdownHarrisonStreet,huggingtheroadandstretchingthelegsanddoingallthoseamazingcar-thingsthatamazingcarsweresaidtodoonTVcommercials.
Translation:Ihauledass.
GoneweretheValentine’sDaysthatstartedwithcrappycarsandcaraccidents.GoneweretheValentine’sDaysthatleftmecryingintheschoolbathroom.GonewereendlessdaysofborrowingNickStark’soldjacket,andgonewerethedaysthat’dfeltimportantbutobviouslywerenot.Thisnew-and-improvedValentine’sDaywasbeginningwithfastcarsandMetallicaonblast,andIdaredtheuniversetodumponmyparade.
Notthistime.
Iglancedinmyrearviewmirrorjustasthecopturnedbehindmeandflippedonhislights.MystomachclenchedforaseconduntilIremembered—noconsequences.Technically,Icouldleadhimonahigh-speedchasethatwouldmakeitonallthenationalnewschannelsifIwantedto,butthatseemedlikemoretroublethanIwasinterestedin.
EspeciallysinceIwantedtogettoschool.Ihadalottodothatday.Ipulledover,gotoutmylicenseandregistration,androlleddownmywindow.
Whenthecopappeared,helookedgrumpy.“Licenseandregistration,please.”
Ihandedittohimandsaid,“IknowIwasspeeding,bytheway,andI’msorry.”
“Youweregoingninety-sixmilesperhourinaforty-fivezone.”
Oops.“I’mreallysorry.”
“You’regoingtoneedalotmorethananapology,younglady.I’llberightback.”
HewentbacktohiscarandIturneduptheradioalittle.Istartedsingingalongto“Blackened,”mynot-at-allrandommusicalselectionfortheDONC,andthenIamusedmyselfbywavingateverypersonwhogawkedatmewhentheydroveby.
Wasthishowitfelttobearebel?BecauseIkindoflikedthewaythisfelt.Ikeptcacklingtomyself,gigglinguncontrollably,whenIthoughtaboutthewildfactthatI’dbeenpulledoverinthecarI’dstolenfrommydadwithoutpermissionforgoingthirtymilesoverthespeedlimit.
WhoevenwasI?
Istartedtogetnervouswhenitwastakingsolong,andespeciallywhenthetowtruckshowedup,butthenIhadtoremindmyselfthatitdidn’tmatter.Nothingmattered.Whateverhappened,Iwouldwakeuptomorrow,freeandclear.
Theofficerfinallycamebacktomywindow.Hehandedmetheregistrationandinsurancecard,buthekeptmylicense.“You’regettingacitationforrecklessdriving.You’llhavetogotocourtforthis.Becauseyouweregoingsofarabovethepostedlimit,thisisnotaticketyoucanpaywithoutseeingajudge.Doyouunderstand?”
Inoddedandsquintedupintothesunthatwasshiningbehindhisbighead.
“Yourcarisbeingimpoundedbecauseofthehighrateofspeed.Hereisapamphletlistingalloftheinformationabouthowlongitwillbeimpoundedforandhowyoucangetitbackatthattime.”
“Mycarisgoingtojail?”
“Betteritthanyou,don’tyouthink?”
“Ofcourse.”Jailwouldtotallymessupmyplansfortheday.
“Yourlicenseisalsobeingrevokeduntilyourcourtdate.Atthattime,thejudgecanmakethedecisiononwhetherornotit’spossibleforyoutogetitback.”
“Wow—youguysaren’tplayingoutheretoday,areyou?”
Hetookoffhisglassesandlookedatmewithhiseyebrowsallscrewedtogether,likehecouldn’tbelievemynerve.“Younglady,thisisabigdeal.”
“Iknow.Iwasjustjoking,youknow,totrytolightenthemood.”
“Doyouhavesomeonewhocancomepickyouup?”
SincemyparentssuckedattakingmycallsandIwasn’tinthemoodfortheirbuzzkilllecturesanyway,Isaid,“MyparentsarebothinmeetingsthismorningsoIknowtheycan’tanswertheirphones.IhaveareallyimportantassignmentdueinfirstblockthatIdon’twanttomiss,either.WouldtherebeanywaythatyoucouldmaybejustdropmeoffatHazelwoodwheneveryou’redonehere?”CONFESSION#11
I’vedaydreamedforyearsaboutgettinginafistfightwithKhloeKardashian.I’mpositiveIcouldtakeher.
Theofficerdroppedmeoffwithalookthatwashalfimpressedandhalfdisgusted.AssoonasIgotintotheschool,IwentstraighttoJosh’slocker.IfIcouldn’tfindawaytoendtherepeatingdays,atleastIcoulddumphimforkissingMacyandfeellikeIhadsomekindofcontrolovermyromanticlife.I’dmissedalloffirstperiod,buthappenedtogetluckyenoughtoshowupduringpassingperiod,whichmeanttheoddsweregoodthathe’dbethere.
Myphonevibrated.Dad:CallmeNOW.
SoLisahadtoldhimaboutthecar.
Orthecopshad.
Iturneddownthenorthhalland—wow.Therehewas.
Joshwasstandingbesidehislocker,laughingwithNoah,anditkindoftookmybreathaway.HewasjustsoJoshinthatmoment.Prettyandfunnyandtheguywhoshould’vebeenperfectforme.
He’dreadSylviaPlathtomeonablanketinthegrass,fortheloveofGod.Howcoulditbethathewasn’ttheone?
“Emmie!”Hiseyeslandedonmeandmyfacegothot,justlikeitalwaysdid.Hegrinnedthesmilethattoldmeheknewwhathedidtomeandhesaid,“Getoverhere!”
IwalkedovertohislockerandbeforeIhadachancetopubliclybuh-byehimlikeI’dplanned,hewrappedhislong-fingeredhandsaroundmywaistandpulledmeagainsthim.
Hisfriendswalkedaway,thefriendsthatI’dplannedonimpressingwithmyepicdumpingabilities.
“Thereyouare.”Hesethisforeheadagainstmine,andIgotsuckedintohisdeep,quietvoice.“Theprettiestgirlinschool.”
“I,um—”
“YouwantyourValentine’spresentnow?”Hepulledbackalittleandtuckedmyhairbehindmyear.“Youlookincredibletoday,bytheway.”
Insteadofopeningmymouthandsayingdumpingwords,Isaid,“Thanks.”
“Ms.Hornby.Mr.Sutton.Pleasegettoclass.”Ms.Radke,theLitteacher,crossedherarmsandgaveusthestinkeyefrombehindherwireglasses.
Joshgrinnedatme.“Missedyourchance.Lunch?”
Inodded,andhedroppedapeckonmylipsbeforeturningandwalkingintheotherdirection.
“Getmoving,Ms.Hornby.”
“Emilie,Ihaveanoteherethatsaysyouneedtogotothecounselor’soffice.”
“Okay.”IstoodupfrommydeskandwalkedtowardMr.Smith,myCalculusteacher.Themanwasawalkingnosehair,soIlookedatthesmartboardbehindhimwhenIsaid,“Thanks.”
TheDONChadlostalittleofitsexcitementafterseeingJosh,mainlybecausehe’dbehavedthesamewayhealwayshad,whichwasperfect.
Ugh.So,soperfect.Like,thewayhe’dsmiledwhenhe’dseenmebyhislocker;thatdidn’tlooklikethesmileofsomeonewhowasdonewithmeandmovingontoMacy.MaybeIhadn’tbeenwrongabouteverything.
Right?
IwasgrabbingthehandleoftheofficedoorwhenIheardlaughinginthedirectionofthesnackstore.Iglancedovermyshoulderand—ofcourse—themelodicallytinklinggigglecamefromMacyGoldman.Shewaslaughinginthehallway,tossingherhairlikeasupermodel,andlookingdownat—
Oh.
Evenaftertherepetitivedaysofwitnessingthemkissing,mychestfeltlikeitwascavinginasIsawJoshsittingonthefloorwithNoah,smilingupatMacy.Hewassmilingupatherinthatway.Theexactsameenamoredwayhe’dlookedatme.
ForthefirsttimesinceI’dseenthemkiss,Iwasn’thurtorsad—Iwaspissed.Livid,actually.SoangryIwantedtokickthingsoverorpossiblypunchsomething.Igrittedmyteethandwentintotheoffice.Ididn’tevenbotherwithMrs.Svoboda,butinsteadjustwentstraightbacktoKessler’soffice.
“Heresheisnow.”
IwalkedintohisofficebutIdidn’tsit.Ididn’tlookathim,either.Ijustcrossedmyarmsandseethed,glaringatthewomanwhowasabouttoyankawaymysummerasifshewasresponsibleforeverythingthathadgonewronginmylife.Shewasn’t,butshewasunfortunateenoughtobetherewhenithitthefan.
“Ifyou’reheretotellmetherewasamistakeandIdidn’twinthespotinthesummerprogram,don’tbother.Ineedthatforscholarshipandcollegeapplications—andI’mnotmisusingtheword‘need’here—andyouarenotgoingtoyankitawayfromme.”Igrittedmyteethandtheladylookedatmeasifshewasalittlescared.“Justbecauseyouhavesomeoneonstaffwhocan’tcountdoesn’tmeanIshouldlosemyonlyshotataPulitzer.”
“Emilie.”Mr.Kesslertiltedhishead.“Whydon’tyousitdown?”
“Can’t.”Iheldupahand.“IhavesomeplaceIhavetobe,butyouguysaregoingtohavetogobacktothedrawingboardandfindawaytomakethisright.”
Thewomanclearedherthroatandlookedconfused.“HowonearthdidyouknowwhatIwasgoingtosay?”
Ishrugged.“Intuitive,Iguess.Probablywhatwillmakemesuchastellarjournalist,don’tyouthink?”
Onthatnote,Ileft.Whatmorewastheretosay?
Anditfeltgood,doingsomething.Insteadofbeingdraggedalongbymylife,Iwasleadingthechargewithmyfingerswrappedarounditsscrawnyneck.Forgoodorbad,thisdaywasallaboutmeproactivatingtheshitoutofmylife.
Becausenothingmattered.
Mrs.Svobodawasn’tatherdeskanymore.Itwasempty,herchairvacant,andthemicrophonefortheoverheadspeakersentirelyunattended.
Um.
Iglancedaround.NickStarkwassittingonachairintheoffice,lookingdownathisphone.Talkaboutironic.Ilookedathishandsomefaceandwasslappedwithamelancholicsadness.Becausewe’dhadanincredibleyesterdayandhadtalkedonthephonemerehoursago—hishadbeenthelastvoiceI’dheardbeforefallingasleep—yetheknewnothingofit.Wewerebasicallystrangersagain,butIknewwhathewouldbuyforagirlfriendifhehadoneonValentine’sDay.
AndIknewhesmelledlikethecleanestbarofsoap.
Focus,Em
Theprincipalseachhadtheirofficedoorsclosed,andthenursewastalkingonthephone.
Icouldn’t.
CouldI?
Iwentaroundthedesk,satinSvoboda’schair,andleanedforward.MyheartpoundedasIpressedthebutton.
“A-attention,Hazelwoodstudents.IwouldliketoannouncethatJoshSuttonisatotalass-bag.”Igiggled.Seriously.Agigglepoppedoutofmymouth,andmylipscurvedupintoahugesmileasIleanedbackalittleinthechair.“ThisisEmilieHornby,andIamofficiallydumpingyou,Josh,becauseyousuck.”
Nick’sheadshotupandhelookedoveratmelikehecouldn’tbelievewhathewashearing,andIshruggedbecauseIcouldn’tbelieveiteither.“Yousucksohard,youpompousjagwithastupidcar,andIdonotwantyoutobemyValentine.”Iletgoofthebutton,butthenpusheditagainandsaid,“Oh,yeah,andit’ssopatheticthatyourefertoyourfriendgroupas“theBards”likeyou’recharactersfromDeadPoetsSocietyorsomething—youfreakingwish.Emout.”
IheardNick’sdeeplaughasIhoppedupandwentaroundthedeskasfastasIcould.Iexitedtheofficejustasthebellrang,soIwasluckyenoughtobeswallowedbyallthestudentsfillingthehallway.Iwassuretheywouldbesendingapassformelater,buthopefullyIcouldditchthebuildingbythen.
Macy,Noah,andJoshwerenolongerbythesnackstore.
Iwalkedtoclasswithmyheadhigh,asmileonmyfacethatIcouldn’tcontain.IknewthatmostofthepeopleIpasseddidn’tevenknowwhoIwas,butIstillgreetedmyfellowclassmateswithasupercoolchin-nod,likeIwasstarringinmyownmovie.
Inmyhead,“Sabotage”bytheBeastieBoyswasplayingasIstruttedtowardChem.
IwasalmosttomyclassroomwhenIpassedLallie,Lauren,andNicole.
TheywerestandingaroundalockerloudlycatalogingwhatwaswrongwithIslaKeller’soutfitwhileIslahadnoidea.Shewasgrabbingabookoutofherlocker,doingabsolutelynothingtodeservetheirbitchery.
“Seriously,whywouldanyonewearshoesthatatrocious?”Lalliesaid.
“Oh.My.Gawd.”LaurenDreyertookthelollipopoutofhermouthandpointedrightatIsla’sshoesbeforeshovingitbackintothatholeinherface.“Sougly.”
“Whatiswrongwithyou?”Iasked,startlingthem—andmyself—withmyloudvoice.
Allthreeofthemturnedtolookatme.Lalliesaid,“What?”
“Whyareyousopetty?”Iasked,myheartraterisingasIsawacoupleofpeoplestopandlookinourdirection.
“Um,I’mnottheonewhowasjustatotalassholeovertheintercom,”Nicolesaid,narrowinghereyesatmeandlookinglikeanevilqueen.
“Yeah,Emilie,”Lalliesneered.“Seriously?”
Now,normallyIwould’vebeenfreakingoutwithaninstantstomachacheifthosegirlsweregettingonmetomyfaceinthehallway.ButDONCEmdidn’tcare.Isaid,“Youdorealizethatyoudidn’tactuallyaskaquestion,right,Lalz?Orareyoutoohighonbitchinesstopiecetogethermorethanthreewords?”
ThatmadeNicolegasp,soIpointedtoherandsaid,“Anddon’tevenstartonme,Nicole.I’veseenyoubeawfultoeveryoneintheentireworldsince,like,thesecondgrade,solet’sjustbothassumethatyou’reabouttospewsomehatefulshitonmesoyoucansaveyourbreathandmytime.”
LallieandLaurenwerepuffingupforacomeback—Icouldseeitintheirovertannedfaces—butIwasn’thavingit.“Doyourealizethateveryone—like,forreal,ev-er-y-one—inthisschoolwhodoesn’thangoutwithyouhatesyourguts?Thinkaboutthat.Youarethebuttofamillionjokes—didyouknowthat?It’sontheDLbecausewe’reallterrifiedofyou,butyouarealaughingstocktoeightypercentofthisschool.”
ThenIgrabbedthestickofLauren’ssuckerandpulleditoutofhermouth.Ialmostlaughedattheshockedlookonherface,butIwasabletokeepastraightfaceasIdroppedhersuckerandwalkedaway,“Sabotage”backtopumpinginmyheadasIfloateddownthathall.
WhenIgottoChemistry,Iwentstraighttomytable.Nickwalkedinaminutelaterbuthedidn’tsayaword.Hejustraisedaneyebrowandsatonhisstool
“Whatkindofcardoeshehave?”
“What?”Iunzippedmybackpack.“Who?”
“Josh.Yousaidhiscarwasstupid,remember?”
“Ah.”ThatmademesmilebecauseJoshthoughtthatthingwasthegreatestvehicletoeverrumbleovertheplanet.“A1959MG.”
Herewardedmeforknowingwithoneofhissmirksandsaid,“Ouch.”
IwatchedhisAdam’sapplemovewhenheswallowedandIwasstruckbyhowbeautifulhewas.Darkhair,ridiculouslyblueeyes,beautifulcheekbones,andlashesfordays.Andhisbodylookedhard.IwasprettycertainifIranathimfullspeed,Iwouldbounceoffhiminsteadofknockinghimover.
Mr.Bongcameinandimmediatelystartedlecturing.Ididn’thavethenotes,butIwasapparentlynevergoingtoneedthem,either.Soinsteadofgettingoutmynotebook,Ipulledoutmyphone.
Dad:Clearlyyou’renotgoingtocallmeback,soyou’regroundedfromyourphonewhenyougethome.Whereismycar?
IknewIshouldfeelalittlebadfortakinghisbaby,especiallyafterthenice-but-not-realmomentwe’dsharedlastnight,butsomethingabouthisresponsepissedmeoff.Onmostdays,heandmymotherbothtookhoursandhourstorespondtothetiniestofquestions.ThetimeIhadanallergicreactiontocashewsatsummercampandneededtoknowwhichurgentcaretogoto,ittookeachofthem—andtheydidn’tlivetogether—overanhour.
YetwhenIwaitedanhourtorespondtomydadabouthiscar,hewaslosinghisshit.
Myphonebuzzed.
Stankbreath:Canyoucomeintoday?BeckcalledinsickandsinceIgaveyouSatoff,youoweme.
Ugh.Work.
IglancedatNick’sprofile,rememberedtherulesofDONC,andrespondedaccordingly.
I’mnotcominginATALLtodaybecauseIdon’tfeellikeit.Thanks,tho,Paulie.
Iputmyphoneaway.Insteadoftakingnotesorpayingattention,though,IstaredatNick.
Butwhenheglancedoverandcaughtme,insteadoflookingawaylikeIusuallywouldhave,Ijustrestedmychinonmyhandandsmiled.Noconsequences.Hefrownedlikehedidn’tunderstand,whichmademefull-ongrin.
HelookedbackatBong,andIcontinueddrinkinghimin.Afteraboutfiveseconds,hemuttered—withoutlookingatme—“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Justlooking.”
“Yeah,Icanseethat.”Hewrotesomethinginhisnotebookandadded,“Butwhy?”
IbitdownonmylowerlipandthoughtWhatthehellbeforesaying,“Youarejustreally,reallyattractive.”
Hestilldidn’tlookatme.“Youthinkso?”
Bongstoppedlecturingtoglareatus.“Mr.Stark,caretoenlightenusastowhat’ssoimportantitcan’twait?”
“Ican.”Iraisedmyhandandsaid,“IwastellingNickherethatIthinkhe’sattractiveandIwashopinghe’dmaybewanttohangoutsinceI’msinglenow.”
IknewNickcouldbesurly,sotherewasadefinitechancehewouldtotallycallmeoutinfrontofeveryone.Butitdidn’tmatterbecauseitwastheDONC.Heturnedhisheadandlookedatmewithwideeyes.
Bongstuttered,“Thisisneitherthetimenor—nor—”
“AbsolutelyIwould,”Nicksaid.
IheardacoupleoflaughsbehindusasNickgavemethesmirkthathadbecomeveryfamiliartome.
“Mr.Star—”
“Doyoumaybejustwanttogonow?”Iwasspeakingthroughalaughbecauseitwasimpossiblenotto.
“That’senough.”Mr.Bong’sfacewasgettingveryredashestaredatus.“Idon’tknowwhat’scomeoveryoutoday,Emilie,butIwillnotallow—”
“Let’sgo,”Nicksaid,grabbinghisbackpackandstandingwhilehoistingitoverhisshoulder.
“Sitdown,Mr.Stark,”Bongsaid.
“Perfect.”IwasbeamingatNickasIgrabbedmybagandwebothturnedaroundtoleave.Theentireclasswasgapingatusinshock,andIsweartoGodIfeltanactualelectricalcurrentshootthroughme,startingatmyfingertips,whenIfelthishandgrabmineandheledmeoutoftheroom.
“Stopbytheprincipal’sofficewhileyou’reatit,”Bongyelled.
Assoonasthedoorclosedbehindus,Nicklookedatmeandsaid,“Wantmetodrive?”
Y’know,likeditchingschoolinsuchapublicmannerwasnormal—commonplace—andthebiggestconcernwaswhowasgoingtobebehindthewheel.
Inodded.“Yes,please.”
Thatmadehimgrin.“Comeon.”
Hepulledmebymyhand,histighteningaroundmine,quicklyheadingforthesidedoor.“Let’sgetoutbeforeBonghastheresourceofficerhuntingus.”
Westartedjoggingdownthehall,andIcouldn’tholdinthelaughter.Whatanabsurd,wildthingtobedoingattenthirtyinthemorning.Ibreathedinthefreshairasweburstthroughtheexitdoorsandafrigid,sunshinybreezerushedatourfaces.Nickcontinuedpullingmealongbehindhiminthedirectionofhiscar.
Andasweranoverthesnow-packedpavement,Ifeltmagically,wonderfullynotlikemyself.Iwasthemanicpixiedreamgirlinamovie,acharactercreatedsolelytobeuncomplicated,unexpected,andutterlyunpredictable.
“Here.”HestoppedbesideBettyandunlockedthepassengerdoor.Hepulleditopen,andthenlookeddownatme.“Youstillwanttodothis?”
Imethisgazeandwantedtodowhateverhewantedwhenhelookeddownatmelikethat.Itwassocliché,buthiseyeshadatwinkle,amischievousglint,whenhewasamused,andIwasaddictedtothatlook.Igrinnedandsaid,“AslongasyouhaveajacketonthefloorofyourtruckthatIcanborrow,Iamallin.”
Hiseyescrinkledatthecornersashesaid,“Itjustsohappensyou’reinluck.”
WhileNickwentaroundtothedriver’sside,Igotinandreachedoverthebackoftheseattograbthecoat.WhenIshovedmyarmsintotheheavymaterial,itwassofamiliarthatitwaslikethejacketbelongedtome.
Nickgotinanddidadoubletake.Fellintoasmileandpointedbehindme.“Yeah,um,thejacketisbehindtheseat.Helpyourself.”
Thatmademelaughevenmore,andashestartedthetruck,Ipulledthehairtieoutofmyponytail,shakingmyhairandrunningmyfingernailsthroughitwhilepushingitoffmyface.IsnaggedtheRay-Bansfromhisdashboardandslidthemupmynosewhileproppingmyfeetuponthedash.
“Comfy?”Helookedamusedandsurprisedbymyactions,soIcrossedmyanklesandmyarms.
Ileanedbackandsaid,“ComfierthanI’vefeltinyears.”
Hejustlookedatmeforasecond,withthatsecretsmileonhismouth,beforegivinghisheadalittleshakeandsaying,“Sowherearewegoing?”
“Let’sgodowntown.”
“Downtownitis.”Heputthetruckingearandpulledawayfromtheschool.“Buckleup.”
Iwantedtosquealaswildenergyfloatedthroughme,encompassingmeinthethrillofjustlivingforthemoment;formymoment.ForwhatevermomentIwantedtobeencompassedin,ifthatmadeanysenseatall.ItookoverhisstereoandswitchedtoFMradio,scanninguntilIheardthenotesofthatridiculoussong.
The“ThongSong.”
“Ohmygosh—rememberthissong?”IglancedoveratNick,andhegavemealookthattoldmehedidandhealsoregrettedthatremembrance.“Singit—comeon.‘Shehaddumpslikeatruck,truck,truck.’?”
“Godhelpme,”hemuttered.
“?‘Guyslikewhat,what,what,’?”Isang.
Hesaid,“Killmenow,”buthewassmilingagainsthiswillasIbeltedouttheentirerestofthesong,notcaringaboutanythingotherthanthefactthatitfeltgood.
Whenitended,heturneddownthevolumeandcalmlyasked,“Isthereanywhereinparticularyouwanttogooncewe’redowntown?”
“Well,Idefinitelywanttogetatattoo.Otherthanthat,I’mdownforjustaboutanything.”
HiseyesnarrowedandhelookedatmelikeI’djustprofessedmyselfanalien.
“What?”
Thatdidn’tchangethewayhelookedatme,soIsaid,“What?Doyouknowagoodplacetogetatattoo?”
Obviously,Iknewthathedidbecausehe’dtoldmeabouthisjobonthephonelastnight.Buthedidn’tknowIknewthat,andIdidn’twanttosoundlikeacreeper.
Hesaid,“WhydoyouassumeIknow?”
“I’veseenyourtattoo.”
Hekepthiseyesontheroadwhenhesaid,“MaybeIdiditmyself.”
“Nope.It’sonyourrightarm,andyou’reright-handed.Thatwouldbeimpossible.Tryagain.”
“Okay,creeper.”Hiseyesdartedovertome.“MaybeIgotitinjuvie.”
“That’salittlemorebelievable.”
“Nice.”
“Butstillnotright.DowntownatMooshie’s?”
Heshookhishead.“Not.”
“What,toocoolforyou?”
“Tootrendy,morelike.”
“So…?Wheredidyougo?”
“402Ink.”
“Okay.”IgrinnedbecauseIalreadyknewthat.“Sowillyoutakemethere?”
“Youdoknowtheytakeappointments,right?”Hisrighthandwasrelaxedandkindofdrapedoverthesteeringwheel,hisleftelbowrestingonthewindowframewhilejustafewofhisfingersactuallymanagedthesteering.Itwascoolconfidence,justlikehim.Hesaid,“Alltattooshops.Oddsarenotinyourfavorthatanyonecanfityouintoday.”
“Really?Don’tyouhaveanyconnections?”Anycoworkers?“Anyfavorsyoucancallin?”
“JustbecauseIhaveatattoodoesn’tmeanIhaveacontingentoftattooartistswhoareavailabletomeforfavors.”
“?‘ContingentofTattooArtists.’Bandname.Calledit.”
Thatactuallymadehimsmile.“Ilikeit.You’dbethesinger,Iassume?”
“Areyoukidding?Ihaveaterriblevoice.Tambourinealltheway.”
“Weak.”
“No,‘weak’isnothelpingyourfriendgetsqueezedintoatattooappointment.”
“Oh,soyou’remyfriendnow.”
Ipulleddownthevisor,grabbedthelipstickinmybag,andreapplied.“Yes.We’refriends,NickStark.Dealwithit.”
Nickturnedonhisblinkerandmergedontotheinterstate.“Ifyou’remyfriend,namethreethingsyouknowaboutme.”
“Um,let’ssee.Threethings.”Now,ifIhadbeenbeinghonest,IcouldprobablyfillafewnotebookpageswiththethingsIknewabouthimfromallmyrepeateddays.ButIpretendedtostrugglebeforeIsaid,“First,Iknowthatyoudriveatruck.”
“Low-hangingfruit,Hornby.”
“Okay.”Iflippedthevisorbackupandsaid,“Um.Forstarters,youdon’ttakenotesinChembutalwaysgetabettergradethanme.”
“Younosylittleshit—keepyoureyesonyourownpaper.”
IwassmilingasIputawaymylipstickandsaid,“Numbertwo,youalwayssmelllikesoap.”
Hegavemetheside-eye.“It’scalledshowering.”
Irolledmyeyes.“No,yousmelllikesoap,soap.Likeyou’remadeofIrishSpringorsomething.”
Hemadeatinychucklesoundbeforesaying,“Youaresuchaweirdo.”
“Amnot.Andnumberthree.Hmmm.”Ilookedoverathim.“You’relessofajerkthanIalwaysthought.”ItcameoutmoresincerethanIintended—abigchangefrommypreviousjokingtone—andIblushed,lookingdownatmyknees.
“WellIguessthat’sgood,”hesaid,givingmeaclosed-mouthsmilewhilehittinghisturnsignalandswitchinglanes.“Right?”
“Right.”Iclearedmythroatandsaid,“Sowillyouhelpme?”
Hesaid,eyesontheroad,“Welltheyaren’topenuntilafterlunch,butyes.”
“Youwill?”Isquealeditanddidn’tcare.“Yes!”
Hejustshookhisheadasheaccelerated.
“Okay,Nick,”Isaid,desperatetoknoweverylittlethingabouthim,“let’splayagame.”
“No.”
“Iwillaskaquestion,”Icalmlysaid,tryingnottolaughashedidn’tlookatmebuthiseyesgotcrinklyaroundthecorners,“andyouwillanswer.”
“Nope.”
“Comeon—it’llbefun.LikeTruthorDare,onlyit’salltruthandnotskanky.”Iturnedtheradiooff.“Imean,youcanaskmequestionsnext,ifyouwant.”
Hegavemetheside-eyeyetagain.“I’mgood.”
Ididn’tcareabouthisreticenceasIturnedtowardhim,smiled,andsaid,“Questionnumberone.Ifthelawrequiredyoutocompeteprofessionallyinanathleticeventorbekilledbyafiringsquad,whicheventwouldyouchoose?”
Hedidn’tevenlookatme.“Running.”
“Really?”Itiltedmyheadandlookedathiminhisfadedjeansandblackjacket.“Ijustcan’tpictureyourunning.”
“Nextquestion.”
“Well,no—thepointofthegameisthatIlearnsomethingaboutyou.Doyourun?”
“Yes.”
“Youdo?”Ijustcouldn’tpictureit.Imean,helookedlikehewasingreatshape,butheseemedtoointensetobeajogger.“Yougoforruns?”
Hiseyessquintedalittle.“HowelsewouldIrunifIdidn’tgoforruns?”
“Idon’tknow.”Ireallydidn’t.But,“Well,whatdoyoulistentowhenyourun?”
“Thisgamesucks,”hemutteredashetooktheSt.Mary’sAvenueexit.
“Metallica?”
Heglancedatme.“Sometimes.”
“Whatelse?”Ineededtoknowmoreaboutthis.“Anddoyouruneveryday?”
Hecametoastopatthetrafficlightbeforeturningtogivemefull-oneyecontact,thekindthatsuckedyouinsideofhimsoyouwereawareofnothingbutNickStark.“Igetupatsixeverydayandgoforafive-milerun.Isitmyturnnow?”
Iblinked—sixinthemorning?Fivemiles?
“Notyet.”Iclearedmythroat.“Okay—thisoneisahypotheticalquestion.Whywouldaguypretendtonotrecognizeagirlheknewfromschool?”
“What?That’sadumbquestion.”
“Toyou,butnottome.”Igiggledinspiteofmyself,knowinghownonsensicalImust’vesounded.“Ijustneedaguy’sperspective.Ifaguywasintroducedtosomeonehealreadyknew,butpretendednottoknowher,well…whatwouldyousayhe’supto?”
Helookedatme.“I’dsayheeitherdoesn’tlikeherandwantstoavoidconversation,orelsehe’sgotathingforherandistryingtobecool.”
“Okay.”WarmthbuzzedthroughmeatthethoughtofNickhavingathingforme.Coulditbepossible?HadNickStarknoticed…andliked…mebeforethiswholethingstarted?
Although,itcouldbejustaslikelythathedidn’tlikeme.IthoughtbacktotheEmIpresentedmyselfasinschool,theoneNicksawinclass.WouldIhavelikedmeifImetme?
Instantly,Idecideditdidn’tmattereitherway—averyun-Em-likeconclusion,Irealized.Iforgedaheadandsaid,“You’vepassedthetest.Onemorehypotheticalquestionandyou’redone.”
“ThankGod.”
“Right?”Ismiledandtriedtothinkofthebestwaytosayit—tosayitandnotsoundlikeaweirdo.“Okay.Ifyoustartedrelivingthesamedayoverandoveragain—likeatime-loopscenario—wouldyoutellanyone?”
“Noway.”
Iwasdisappointed.“Really?”
“There’snowaytonotsoundlikeyou’reoutofyourmind.”
“Oh.That’sprobablytrue.”
Nickglancedover,hiseyesallovermyface.“DidIgivethewronganswerorsomething?”
“Nah.”Ishookmyheadandadded,“Nowronganswersonhypotheticals.”
“Okay—myturn.”
“ButI’vebarelystartedaskingyouquestions.”
“Don’tcare.”Helookeddownatmysweaterandsaid,“Howcomeyoudon’tdresslikethisallthetime?”
“What?”Icrossedmyarmsbackovermychest.“AreyouseriouslygoingtotalkaboutthewayIdress?Don’tbethatguy.”
“I’mnot.”Hepointedatmybodywithhischinandsaid,“Butyouusuallydresslikeasororitygirlwhocolor-codesherdailyplannerandsecretlyhopestomarryasenator.Thislooksreal,likeyou’renottryingtobeaRalphLaureninfluencer.”
“Okay—twothings,”Isaidaroundalaugh.“Firstofall,that’stotallythelookI’mgoingfor.Orwasgoingfor.”
“Shocking.”
“Andsecond,you’rerightabouttoday’soutfit—Iamfeelin’myself.”Ilookeddownattheleatherpants,slidmyfingeralongtheoutsideseam.“TodayisEm-centric,whereIamonlyfocusingonwhatIwant.Andtoday,Iwantedtowearleatherpants.”
“Well—”
“Nope—myturn.Whyareyousoantisocial?”
Hescowled.“I’mnot.”
“You’veneversaidawordtomeinChem.”UntilValentine’sDaystartedrepeatingitself,thatis.
“You’veneversaidawordtome,either.”
“But…that’sbecauseofyourenergy.”
Hescowledharder,sayingthetwowordslikeIwasludicrous.“Myenergy?”
“YouputoffaverystrongDon’tbugmevibe.Nextquestion.”ItwastheDONC,sopridedidn’tmatter.Iasked,“Areyouinterestedinanyone—romantically—atthemoment?”
Thescowldisappeared.“WouldIbeoutherecommittingmayheminthe402withyouifIwas?”
“ProbablynotbutIjustneededtoclarify.”
“Why?”Aslowsmirkmovedhismouthandhiseyesgotthattwinkleashelookedoverandasked,“Yougotplansforme,Hornby?”
Thatmademycheeksgethot,butIkeptmydevil-may-careattitudeandsaid,“Today,anythingispossible.”
“Okay—myturn.”
HeturnedintotheOldMarketcommunityparkinggarage,rolleddownhiswindow,andgrabbedaticketfromthedispenser.“What’syourall-timefavoritemovie?Nottheoneyoutellpeopleisyourfavorite,butyouractualfavorite.”
Thatmademesmile,becausehetotallysawmeinthatmoment.“I’vebeenknowntosayit’sSchindler’sList,butit’sactuallyTitanic.”
“Oh,Emilie.”Helookedhorrified.“Youarerighttolieaboutthat.Burythatconfessiondeep,deepinyourdisgustingsoulforever.”
Iasked,“What’syourfavoritemovie?”
Heputthetruckingearandturneditoff.“Snatch.Everseenit?”
“Idon’twatchporn.”
“Getyourmindoutofthegutter,”hesaid,chastisingmewhilehiscerulean(thankyou,DeVos)eyessquintedaroundagrin.“It’sGuyRitchieandBradPitt,dumb-ass.”
Whenhecamearoundtomysideofthetruck,Icouldn’thelpit—IbeamedupathimlikeIwasathree-year-oldcomingface-to-facewithElsafromFrozen
Hefrowned.“Whyareyousmilinglikethat?”
Ishrugged.“BecauseIjustkindoflikeyou,Ithink.”
“Oh,youthink?”hedrawled,givingmeateasingsmirkthatdidwildthingstomyinsides.“YoudragmeoutofChemandyou’renotsure?”
Ishruggedagain.“Jury’sstillout.I’llletyouknowwhenIknow.”
Istartedwalking,pullinghimbehindme,buthishandtuggedmetoastop.Hisbreathcloudedaroundhisfaceashegrinneddownatme.“Youdidn’tknowtowearglovesoracoatinthemiddleofFebruaryinNebraska—youdon’tknowshit,EmilieHornby.”
BeforeIevenrealizedwhathewasdoing,heletgoofmyhand,pulledoffhisbiggloves,andputthemonmyhands.Theywereginormousonme,butwarminside.ThenhereachedaroundmyheadtoyankupthehoodofthecoatI’djackedfromhim.
“You’readamnchild,”hemuttered,stillsmilingashisfacehoveredjustovermine.“Maybenowyouwon’tfreezetodeath.”
“Y’know,ifthiswasamovie,Iwouldlookatyourmouthrightnow.Likethis.”Iletmyeyesglancedowntohislips.“Andyouwouldkissme.”
“Isthatright?”HisvoicewaslowandIfelthisgazeinmystomachashelookeddownatmylips.
“Yes,”Isaid,soundingalittlebreathless.
“Well,thankGodwe’renotinamovie,then.”
Ouch.Ilookedatthatfaceandbreathed,“Youwouldn’twanttokissme?”
Hewasquietforabriefsecond,andthemomenthoveredasourcollectivebreathsmingledandsharedacloudinfrontofourfaces.Hiseyesweresolemn,soserious,ashelookedatmeandsaid,“Iwouldn’twantthecomplicationsthataccompanykissingyou.”
“Whyareyousosad?”Iasked.
Ihadn’tmeanttosayit,hadn’tevenrealizeditwasonthetipofmytongue,butI’dneverwantedanythingmorethantoknowtheanswertothatquestionatthatmoment.
Hisjawflexed,unflexed,andhishauntedeyesstayedonmine.Ifeltlikehewantedtotellmeashisentirebeingpausedinresponse,butsomethingaboutthewayheswallowedmademewanttoprotecthimfromhisanswer.
“Forgetit—youdon’thavetoanswer.”Ituggedonhissleeveandwestartedwalkingagain.“I’vegotamillionotherquestions.”
“Wonderful.”
“Sotellmeyourlifestory.”Ineededtoknoweverylittlebitofhimthatwasn’tsad.“Didyougrowuphere?Who’syourbestfriend?Brothersandsisters?Anypets?Well,otherthanBetty,thatis.”
Hegavemeaweirdlook.“Howdoyouknowmydog’sname?”
Shit.“Youtoldmewhen,um—Idon’tremember,actually,butIrememberyoumentioningitsometime.”
Niceanswer,youimbecile
Thankfullyhejustsaid,“That’souronlyanimal.Whataboutyou?”
IpushedhisRay-Bansupmynose.“MymomandherhusbandhaveapugglenamedPotassium—andIcan’tevenrememberwheretheycameupwiththatridiculousname.He’scutebutwearen’tclose.”
Thatmadehimsmirk.
“Mydadandhiswifehaveacat—BigAl—whoisamazing,buthe’sbeenknowntopeeonthestrawruginthelaundryroom,sohedefinitelyhasissues.”
HepushedopenthedoortoZenCoffeeandhelditwhileIwalkedin.“Ialsohavetwolittlebrotherswhoaremydad’s.Man,thatsoundsutterlydysfunctional,doesn’tit?”
“No,”hesaid,butwhenIraisedaneyebrowheamendedwith,“Maybealittle.”
Hewasgivingmeanotherfunnylookthatwarmedme,andwhenwemovedintothebigline,Isaid,“Thequestionsweresupposedtobeforyou.Brothersandsisters?”
“Areyoualwaysthisnosy?”
“Nope—onlyontheDONC.”
“WeshouldtalkaboutthisDONCofyours.”HiseyesflitteddownforthebriefestofsecondswhenIunzippedthebigcoat,andthemereideaofhimbeinginterestedinmybodymademyheartpound.
“Whyareyoudoingthis?”heasked.
“Youwouldn’tbelievemeifItoldyou.”IlookedatthatfacethatIknewreallywellandsaid,“Let’sjustsayit’sasocialexperiment.Whatwillhappenifforanentireday,IdoexactlywhatIfeellike,consequencesbedamned?”
Heshrugged.“You’llhaveafundaytodayandanightmaretomorrow.”
“Whichiswhy,”Isaid,loweringmyvoicealittle,“I’mrefusingtothinkabouttomorrow.”
Wemovedupintheline,andNicklookeddeepinthought.HewasprobablythinkingthatIwasmarginallyunstable;Imean,Iwouldthinkthatinthereverse.Hedidn’tevenlookatmewhilewewaited,whichmademeworrythathewasgoingtobailonme.Thathe’drealizemyparticularflavorofhotmessinesswasn’tworthdetentionandhe’dmakeabreakforit,leavingmealonedowntown.
Whenwegottothefrontandthebaristalookedtometoorder,Isaid,“CouldIpleasehavealargeAmericano?Andthegentlemanwillhavealarge…Sleepytime…?”
Iglancedathimandherolledhiseyesbeforesaying,“Largegreentea,please.”
Ilaughedathisobviousannoyanceinmyrightness,andwedidn’ttalkagainuntilwegotourdrinksandwentbackoutside.Webothstartedwalkingwithoutevendiscussingwherewemightbeheaded,andIwasjuststartingtofeelmycup’sheatthroughNick’sgloveswhenhesaid,“Fortherecord,IthinkyourDONCideaisreallyterriblebecauseyouwillhavetofacetheconsequencestomorrow.”
Iglancedathimandsaid,“Youdon’t—”
“ButIstillwanttodoit.”
Istoppedliftingmycuptowardmymouthandfroze.“Youdo?”
“I’minmyownheadtoomuch,andIalsofuckinghateValentine’sDay,”hesaid,lookingstraightahead,“sothewayIseeit,beingadipshitlikeyouforafewhoursmightbeanicebreak.”
“Awww—sosweet.”Ifinallymanagedasipofthedeliciouslydarkcaffeinatedbeverage.
“Butyoudon’twanttostealacaroranything,doyou?”
Thatmademesnortandchokealittleonmycoffee.IhelduponefingerwhileIcoughed,andthenIsaid,“Ialreadydidthatthismorning.”
Helookedatmewithdeadpaneyesasajoggerwentaroundus.“Pleasetellmeyou’rejoking.”
“Um,sortof…?”Iwentontotellhimaboutmydad’scar,gettingpulledover,andthenwatchingmydad’spreciousbabygettowedaway.Imanagedtomakehimlookscandalizedovereveryword,whichfeltlikesomekindofawin.Isaid,“SoI’mnotgoingtogetarrestedforGTAoranything,butIdid,infact,startmydaybytakingsomeoneelse’svehicle.”
Helookedatmethroughnarrowedeyes,turningsidewaystokeepeyecontactwhilewewalked.“Thisisblowingmymindthatyou,thegirlI’veseenreadinginChem,inthecafeteria,who’salwaysdigginginherbackpack,whichis—ofcourse—fullofbooks,isoutbeingadeviant.Beforetoday,Iwould’veguessedyouwereacandidatefor‘Mostlikelytoworkinalibrary.’?”
“That’sactuallymynumbertwocareerchoice,”Isaid,fascinatedbythefactthatheknewthingsaboutmeafterpretendinghedidn’tonmultipledays.
Heignoredmywordsandkeptgoing.
“Buthereyouare,joyridinginPorsches,ditchingschool,anddestroyingyourex-boyfriendinaverypublicway.Wastheresomesortofafinal-straweventthatstartedthisthing?”
TheimageofJosh’slipstouchingMacy’sflashedthroughmymindbutIshoveditaway.“Can’tagirljustmixupherlifealittle?”
“Anunhingedgirl,maybe.”
“Wellthen,I’mthat.”Imightaswellbe,sincetherealexplanationactuallywasunhinged.
Heaskedaswewentaroundafoodcart,“Soisyourdadgoingtokillyou?”
“Probably.”
Hiseyebrowsfurrowedtogether.“Howdoyounotseemconcernedaboutit?”
Ishrugged.“He’sjustgoingtoyellatmeforawhileandthenit’llbeover.”Hewouldn’t,actually,butIcouldn’texplainthattoNick.
“Weclearlyhaveverydifferentparents.”Hegavehisheadashakeandsaid,“Mydadissupercoolbuthewoulddestroyme.Like,Iamgettingscaredjustthinkingaboutmyfather’sreactiontosomethinglikethis,andhedoesn’tevenhaveanicecarformetosteal.”
Itookanothersipofmycoffeeaswestoppedtowaitforthelighttochange.Iaskedhim,“Areyourparentsstillmarried?”
Iwasfascinatedbypeoplewhoseparentswerestilltogether.Itseemedsurrealandimpossiblybeautifultome,theideaoflivingoutallofyourchildhoodyearswithbothparents,togetherinthesamehouse.
“Yep,”hesaid,andwebothstartedwalkingasthesignalswitched.Iwaitedforhimtoelaborateandtalkabouthisfamily,buthedidn’tsayanythingelse.
“Youneveransweredaboutbrothersandsisters.”Ileanedalittletomyleftandbumpedhimaswecrossed.“One?Two?Ten?Doyouhaveany?”
Irritationflashedinhiseyesandhisjawwashardwhenhesaid,“Dowereallyhavetodothe‘Tellmeaboutyourfamily’small-talkthing?”
“Oh.Um,sorry.”CoffeesplashedontomygloveasIstumbledoveracrackinthesidewalk.
“It’sfine.”
Yeah—sureitwas.Ilookedstraightaheadandwonderedifitwaspossibletofeellikeabiggerdork,becausehisfacehadshownexactlyhowannoyinghefoundme.Allofasudden,IwasawareofthebitingstingofcoldonmycheeksasIstruggledtothinkofsomething—anything—tosay.
“Stopit.”
Iglancedoverathim.“What?”
“Stopfeelinglikethat—I’mnotmad.”
Thatmademerollmyeyes.“HowdoyouknowhowI’mfeeling?”
“Well,yourfacegotallpinched.”
“Pinched?”
Heshruggedandgesturedtomyfacewithhisfreehand.
“Oh,okay—thatexplainsit.”
“Ms.DONC.”Hegrabbedmyelbowandledmeoutofthefoottraffic,sowewerestandingbesideaclosedstorefront.Helookeddownatmewiththathandsomeface,hissoapyscentribboningaroundme,andsaid,“Tellme.WhatepicFerrisBuellershitarewedoingfirst?”CONFESSION#12
IstarteddrinkingcoffeewhenIwaseleven.Mymomleftforworkwhentherewasonecupleftinthepot,everyday,andsinceitseemedlikeagrown-upthingtodo,Ididit.
Thatsnappedmyattentionbacktothepresent.WhyhadIbeenworryingaboutinsultinghimwhenitwastheDONC?Iblinkedandsaid,“Idon’treallyhaveaplan,perse,butweshouldcheckouttheFirstBankbuilding.”
Heraisedaneyebrow.“Doyouhavesomeinvestingtodo?”
“No,Iwanttosneakuptothefortiethfloor.”NowIgrabbedhiselbowandwestartedwalking.“Listentothis.”
IstartedtellinghimwhatIknewandwhatIwantedtodiscoveraswewalkedtowardtheskyscraper.TheFirstBankbuildingwasthetallestbuildinginthecity;forty-fivestories,tobeexact.MyAuntieEllenusedtoworkthereandtoldmethatafteritfirstopened,peoplemadeappointmentstousethefortieth-floorbalconyformarriageproposals.
Ialsoknewthistobetruebecauseitwaswheremyyoung,foolishfatherhadproposedtomyequallyimmatureandimpulsivemother.
Butnow,ifyouGoogledit—nothing.Nomentionofabalcony,noreferencetobalconiedproposals.
Itwasasifithadneverexisted.
I’dbeenobsessedwiththemissingbalconyeversinceEllenhadtoldmeaboutitwhenIwasten,andIwasfixatedonthenotionthatthesettingforthebeginningofsomanypeople’shappily-ever-afterswaseffectivelyerased.I’dfounditsad,whichhadmademymotherjokethatperhapsitwasthecosmostryingtorightsomewrongs.Allthosecoupleswho’dtrekkedupthereforthebigmomentcouldneverrevisitthespot.
Ever.
Precociousten-year-oldmehadevencalledthebuildingmanager,butinsteadofexplainingtheclosure,hetoldmeIwasmistaken.Hedeniedtherehadeverbeensuchathing.
Iknewbetter.
SoI’dalwayswantedtosneakupandcheckitout.IexpectedNicktothinkitwasabadidea,buthelistenedclosely.Henoddedandlookedupatthetoweringbuildingasweapproached.
Andinsteadofsayingno,hesaid,“I’msureweneedbadgestogetpastthelobby.”
Myeyesshottohis,surprisedthathewasmatter-of-factlyconsideringgoingalongwiththis.“Probably.”
“Sowhat’sourplan?”heasked.
“Hmmm.”Ibitmylipaswestoppedbythefountainsthatsatinfrontofthebuilding.Think,Em—think.“Wecouldpullafirealarm.”
“Nothingthatwillgetusarrested,youcriminal,”hesaid,andlaughed,hiseyessweepingovermeandmakingitimpossiblenottosmile.
“Maybewecanbribeasecurityguard—doyouhaveanymoney?”
Hejustlookedatme.
“Well?Idon’thearyou—”
“Therehastobeasidedoor.”Hetossedhiscupintoagreentrashcanandsaid,“Oneofthoseexit-onlydoorsthatnearlyeverybuildinghas.”
“And…?”
“Andwefinditandlurk.Assoonassomeonecomesout,wegoin.”
Iblinked.“That’sgenius.”
“No,it’scommonsense.”
“Fine.Nocomplimentforyou,then;Irescindthecompliment.”
“Youcan’trescindacompliment.”
“Yes,youcan.”
“Nope.MyegoknowsyouthinkI’mageniusnow,regardlessofhowhardyoumightdenyit.”
Thatmademelaugh.“Idonotthinkyou’reagenius.Isaidthatideawasgenius.”
“Potato,po-tah-toe.”
Ijustrolledmyeyesandtookasipofmycoffee.Then:“Wait—howdidyoufinishyourteaalready?”
“Ididn’t.ItsuckedandIwassickofcarryingit.”
“Butyoujustboughtit.”
“Arewegoingtotalkaboutmyteaorarewegoingtofindthatdoor?”
Itossedmycoffeeintothetrashcan.“Let’sgofindthatdoor.”
Wewalkedparalleltothebuilding,intentionallybehavingliketwoteenagerscasuallywalkingarounddowntown,justincaseofcameras.Hetoldmearidiculousstoryaswecasedthejointaboutthetimehewasworkingatadrivingrangeandhegotstuckinsidethegolfballpicker.
“Idon’tevenknowwhatagolfballpickeris,”Isaid,staringatthebuilding’sstonefacade.
“Amachinethatpicksupgolfballs.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Well,ofcourse,butIcan’tpictureit.”
Hesaid,“Youdon’thavetopictureit.JustknowIgotstuckinsideforanhourandalmostdiedofheatexhaustion.”
“Couldn’tyouhavebrokenthewindoworsomething?”
Nickshookhisheadandsaid,“Wewereallscaredtodeathofourboss,Matt—hewasatotalasshole.Weneverwould’veconsideredthat.”
“Youwould’veratherdiedinaballpicker?”
Insteadofansweringme,hesaid,“Look.”Nickpointedtoadoorthatwasatthebackofthebuilding,paintedtomatchthebrickandbarelynoticeable.
“Doyouthinkpeopleuseit?”
“Noidea,”hesaid.
Thedooropened.
Igaspedandnearlygottrampledbythethreewomenwhocameout.TheladyinthemiddleapologizedwhileNicksteppedforwardandheldthedoorforthemlikehewasatotalgentleman.
Notatalllikethegrumpy,quietlabpartnerI’dhadallyear.
Buttheminutetheyturnedawayfromus,hegavemeaneyebrow-raise.“Afteryou…?”
“Let’sgo.”
Westeppedinside,andthedoorslammedbehindus.
Wewereinastairwell.Istartedforthedoortowhateverlaybeyondwhenhesaid,“Wait.”
Istopped.“Why?”
“Wedon’tknowwhatitlookslikeontheothersideofthatdoor.Butweknowwehavetogouptoforty,so…”
Andhegavethestepsachin-nod.
“Soyouwanttoclimbfortyflightsofstairs?”Ididnotwanttoflexmyoutta-shapeitudeinfrontofhim.Nope.“Notallofusruneverymorning.”
“Wecangotwoflightsatatime,andrestinbetween.”
“Idon’tneedyourfitnesspity.”
Heraisedaneyebrowagain.“Soyouwantto…?”
Iletoutabigsigh.AndthenIgroanedbeforesaying,“Let’sdothis.”
Thefirsttwoflightswereprettyeasy,butbythethirdmyquadswerestartingtocrampandIfeltsweatstartingtoformonmyforehead.
“Youokay?”Nickaskedwhenwestoppedforourfirstbreak.
“Areyou?”ItriedtokeepmyselffrompantingbutsoundedprettyoutofbreathwhenIsaid,“Thisiscake.”Inoticedthatheshowednosignofexertion,otherthanaslightflushtohischeeks.
“Isit?”Hegavemeasuspiciouslookandsaid,“I’msorry—haveIbeenholdingyouup?Doyouwanttorunthenextflight?”
OFCOURSENOT.No,thankyou.Whatareyou,insane?Thosewouldallbeappropriateresponses,butmymouthcouldn’tseemtoformthewords.Whichwasweird,becauseIdidn’tconsidermyselftobeparticularlycompetitive,especiallywhenitcametoathleticendeavors.
ButthefactthatIcouldtellheknewIwouldn’tdoit?Itmademesaytheunspeakable.
“Howaboutthenexttwo?”
Hismouthcurledintoafull-ongrinandhetookoff.Istartedslow-joggingthestairsbehindhim,wantingtodieinmyleatherpants,andheimmediatelyslowedandkeptpacewithme.Ilookedtomyleftandtherehewas,grinninglikehecouldrunstairsallday.
Ismiledbackwhilemyheartpoundedandscreamedobscenitiesandtriedtorememberwhatitsjobwas.
Weranoneflight,thenanother,butwebothkeptrunningafterthat.Mylegsstartedburning,andIwasrunningthestepsataslowerpacethanifIwerewalkingthem,tobehonest.Myfacemust’velookedpained,becausewhenwereachedthenextlanding,Nicktookpityonme.
“Wait.”Hestopped,anditmademehappytoseethathewaspanting,too.Heheldupafingerwhilehecaughthisbreath,whichwasfinebymebecausemyearsfelttoofurrytohearoutof.
“So,”hebreathed,“everyfloorinthisbuildinghasanelevator.”
“Yeah…?”Istackedmyhandsontopofmyheadasmylungsscreamed.
“Solet’sgetoutofthestairwell.Thinkaboutit.Oddsaregoodthatwecangettoanelevatoronarandomfloorofofficesbeforeanyonewhocaresnoticesus.”
“Areyousure?”Ididn’twanttoclimbanotherstep,butIdidn’twanttogetbustednowthatweweregettingclose,either.
“Positive.Doyoutrustme?”
Inodded,stilltryingtoun-labormybreath,whichmadehimsmile.Hesaid,“Let’sstayhereforacoupleminutessowedon’tburstoutofthestairwellpantingandsweating.Peoplemighttalk.”
AnimageofNickandmeagainstthewallofthestairwellflashedinmyhead.
Whoa
Iwashappywhenhedistractedmeandsaid,“Ithinkit’smyturntoaskyouaquestion,anyway.”
“No—it’smine.”Ileanedmybacksideagainstthewallandasked,“Let’sgobig.Haveyoueverbeeninlove?”
Hegavemealook,likehethoughtitwasanabsurdquestion.“That’sahardno.”
“Notevenclose?”Idon’tknowwhy,butIwasshockedbythat.
“I’veloved,ofcourse,butIhaven’tbeeninlove.Notevenclose.”Helookeddownandstartedfidgetingwiththezipperonhisjacket.“You?”
“Hmmm.”Ituckedmyhairbehindmyearsandsaid,“WhenIwokeuponValentine’sDay,IthoughtIwasinlove.ButhereIam,afewhourslater,wonderingifIeverlovedJoshatall.”
Heraisedhiseyes.“Maybethat’sjustbecauseyou’remadathim.”
“That’swhat’ssoweird.”Ipausedtothinkforamoment,thenIsaid,“Yes,I’mpissedthathekissedhisex-girlfriend,butonlyalittle.DefinitelynotasmuchasIshouldbe.”
Itmademefeel..Idon’tknow…regretful.Hadmyfeelingsbeensomethinglessthangenuine?
Hecontinuedmessingwithhiszipper.“So…why…?”
“Thisisanewrealization,soI’mstillworkingitallout.”
“Gotit.”Heabandonedhiszipper,straightened,thenwalkedovertothedoorandopeneditacrack.Hiseyewaspressedagainsttheopeningforasolidtwentysecondsbeforehecloseditagain.
“Allright—thecoastisclear.”Helookedatmeoverhisshoulder.“Areyoureadyforthis?”
“What’sourstoryifwe—”
“Igotit—noworries.”Helookedatmewithcrinklyeyesandsaid,“Youstilltrustme,right?”
ItwasweirdhowmuchIdid.“Right.”
“Thenlet’sgo.Justpretendwe’resupposedtobehere.”
“Gotit.”
Nickpulledopenthedoorandwewalkedout.Infrontofuswasacarpetedhallway,withofficesoneachsideofit.
Officeswithglasswalls.
Westarteddownthecorridorandhewinkedatme,whichmademegiggle.Wehurriedpastofficeafteroffice,andawomaninasuitgaveusaclosed-mouthsmileasshecameoutofherofficeandwalkedpastus.
Aftershewentby,wegrinnedateachotherbecauseholycrap,itwasactuallyworking.Weweregoingtomakeittotheelevators.
“Excuseme.”
Shit.Wekeptwalking,oureyeslookingstraightaheadasweheardthedeepvoiceofanoldermanrepeatthewordsfrombehindus.“Excuseme.Youtwo?”
Nickturnedaround,andhisfacetransformeditselfintothatofasweet,innocenthighschoolboy.Iwatchedinawe,myheartracing,ashesaid,“Yes?”
“CanIhelpyouwithsomething?”
“Actually,thatwouldbegreat.Canyoupointustotheelevator?We’rehereforaninternshiporientationandweclearlygotoffonthewrongfloor.”
Wow—goodone,Nick
Iturnedaroundandthemanwaslookingatbothofusthroughnarrowedeyes.IthoughtNickwassuperbelievable,butthewell-dressedoldguystilllookedsuspicious.
Igavehimmybestgood-studentsmile.
“It’sjustoverthere,”hesaid,pointingpastus,“butIdidn’tevenseeyoutwogetofftheelevatorthefirsttime.”
“That’sbecausewetookthestairs,”Isaid,smilingevenharder.“Iliketomove,butmyfriendhereisalittleoutofshape.Ithoughthewasgoingtopukeonthewayup,whichiswhyweditchedthestairstolookforanelevator.”
Finally—finally—theguysmiled.“Noteveryonecanhandlethosestairs.”
IreachedoutandpokedNick’smidsection(whichwasincrediblyhard,fortherecord)withmyfingerandsaid,“Tellmeaboutit.IthoughtIwasgoingtohavetocarrythismarshmallow.”
“Thankyousomuchforthehelp,sir.”Nickcapturedmyfingerinhishandwhiletheguylaughed.Nicksaidtome,“Comeon—we’vegottorunifwe’regoingtogetthereontime.”
Wemanagedtocalmlywalktotheelevators,butthesecondthedoorsclosedbehindus,Iwascackling.Ilookedathiswidegrinandsaid,“NickStark,youaresuchagoodliar!”
Helaughedandmovedalittlecloser.“Andyouaresuchanenormousbratwithyour‘marshmallow’shit.”
Ifeltbreathless.Hewasrightthere,hisfacejustaboveminewhilehisbodykindoftrappedminebetweentheelevatorwallandhim,andIrealizedthatIwantedhimtokissme.SomethingaboutmystairwellepiphanyaboutmyfeelingsforJoshmademefeelwildlyfreetoexploreNickStark.
“Weshouldgotothethirty-ninthfloor,”hesaid,hisvoicedeepandquietashiseyesstayedonmine,“andthentakethestairsfromthere.”
Ijustnoddedastheelevatorwhooshedusupward.Isworehewasleaningcloserwhen—
Theelevatordinged.
Webothjumpedapartandlookedupatthenumbers.Wewereapparentlyontwelve,andmorepeopleweregettingon.Ipushedatmyhairasthedoorsopenedandasecurityguardjoinedus
Whatweretheodds?
AndwhathadalmosthappenedbetweenmeandNick?
Igavetheguardapolitesmileandhereturnedit,steppinginsideandpressingthebuttonforfloorthirty-sixasthedoorsclosedbehindhim.IgaveNickasidewaysglanceandhewaslookingstraightahead,totallyunaffectedbythisinterloper’spresence.
ThecarstartedmovingandIwatchedtheilluminateddisplayabovethedoorsdutifullyreporteachandeveryfloorwepassed.Iclearedmythroatandbitdownonmylipasthesilenceverynearlykilledme.
Whenwefinallyhitthirty-sixandtheelevatordinged,thetallsecurityguardgavemeanotherpolitesmile.Asthedoorsopened,Isaid,“Haveagoodday.”
Hegavemeaheadnod.“Youtoo.”
Oncethedoorsclosedbehindhim,IglancedatNick.Hewaslookingatmewithanunreadableexpressiononhisface,andIwasbeggingmybrainnottooverthinkwhateverwashappeningbetweenus.Theelevatordingedwhenwereachedthethirty-ninthfloor—ofcourse—andhejustsaid,“Readytodothisagain?”
Ismiledandmutteredsomethinginanswer,butthetruthwasthatIwasn’tcapableofactualconversation.Ineededaminutetocalmmyfreaking-the-freak-outnerves.
Thedoorsopened,andthisfloorhadafoyerareawithareceptiondesk.Itwasdeathlyquiet,andthestern-lookingwomansittingbehindthedeskalreadylookedirritatedbyourexistence.
“CanIhelpyou?”
Nicksaid,“Canyoupointustowardthestairwell?Theguyintheorientationsaidwecouldtakethemdownifwewantedtheexercise,butthenwegotontheelevatorandalmostforgot.Isitoverthere?”Hepointedtowardtheotherendofthebuilding,andIwasinaweofhiscomposure.
Shenodded.“I’llshowyou.”
Mybreathcaughtinmythroatasshestoodandcamearoundthedesk.Nicksmiledatherandtheystartedwalking,soIfollowed.
“Whatorientationwereyouherefor?”sheasked.
“AninternshiporientationwithHR.It’sfortheirnewsummerprogram.”
“Oh?”Shelookedathimwithhereyebrowsdown.“Ididn’tknowtheyhadsomethinglikethat.”
“Trustme,wewereasurprisetoeveryonetoday.”
ThewomanlaughedandNickadded,“I’mexcitedtoworkinthisbuilding,though.Haveyouworkedherelong?”
Shenodded.“Fifteenyears.”
“Wow—thatisalongtime.”
“Onlytoyoubecauseyou’reyoung.”Shesmiledandglancedbackatme.“Trustme,fifteenyearsfliesby.”
“Sowereyouherewhenpeopleusedtodoproposalsupstairs?”Hesaiditsocasually,likeitwascommonknowledgetoeveryoneintheworld.“Orhadthatalreadystoppedwhenyoustarted?”
“Oh,theystilldidit,butitwasusuallyoneveningsandweekendssoitdidn’treallyaffectthoseofuswhoworkedhere.”
“Doyouknowwhyitstopped?”Nickasked,soundingsosuperchillthatIwasextraimpressedbyhim.“Whythebalconykindofwentoffline?”
“Noidea.Iheardareallyuptightexecmovedintothebigofficeandshutitdown,butthatwasjustarumor.”Shestoppedwalkingthen,andgesturedtowardthedoorattheendofthehall.“Thereisthestairwell,butIwarnyou.Eventhoughyou’regoingdown,it’sstillalotofsteps.Becareful.”
“Wewill.”Iclearedmythroatandsaid,“Thankyousomuch.”
“Ofcourse.”
NickopenedthestairwelldoorandIwalkedthrough;hefollowed.Forasecond,whenthedoorslammedbehindus,Iwonderedifhewasgoingtokissme,butthenhesaid,“We’realmostthere—let’sdothis,Hornby.”
Wewalkedupthefinalflightofstairs,andIhadnoideawhattosay.Myhandswerestillalittletrembly,andmyheadwasfullofamillionquestions.
Whenwegottothetop,withoutaword,Nickopenedthedoor.Westeppedoutanditwasanotherveryquietfloor.Itseemedtobecomprisedofultra-swankyoffices—probablytheexecutives—andapparentlynooneuptheremadenoise.
Like,atall.
“Iwonderwherethebalconyis,”Iwhispered.
“IfIhadtoguess,”hewhisperedback,“I’dsaytheeastside.Wouldn’ttheywantthebalconytolookoutovertheheartofdowntown?”
“Ooh—goodpoint.”
Wewalkeddownthehallway,bothofusscanningtheareainalldirectionsinanattempttoseesomethingthatintimatedabalconywasawaitingus.Wewalkedallovertheentirefloor,butcouldn’tfindanything.
AndthenNicksawit.
“Look,”hesaid,andIlookedinthedirectionhe’dnoddedhishead.
“Noway.”
Oneoftheofficeshaditsblindsopen,andthebalconywasontheotherside.We’dhavetogothroughanofficetogetonthebalcony,becausethebankofofficeshaddoorswhichleddirectlyout.
“Let’skeepwalking—maybethere’sacommonarea.”
Westartedwalkingfartherdownthehall,butwhenwereachedtheenditwasclear;theofficesinthatrowwereouronlypointsofaccess.
“Well,Iguessthat’sit,”Isaid,irrationallysadtogiveuponthedream.“Weshouldprobablygobeforewegetarrested.”
Thebathroomdoortoourleftopenedandanothersecurityguardwalkedout.Ofcourse.Ashebentatthedrinkingfountain,Imadebug-eyesatNick.Butinsteadofrespondingtome,Nicklookedovermyhead.Iwasabouttotellhimthatweshouldjustforgetaboutitwhenhesaid,“Excuseme,sir?”
IturnedaroundtoseewhohewastalkingtoasNickwalkedpastmeandapproachedoneofthefancyofficedoorways.Theguybehindthedesklookedbusyandimportant—likeareallycrankyexec,withhisperfecttieandexpensivewatch—asheraisedhiseyestoNick.“Yes?”
“CanItalktoyouforonesecond?”Heglancedbackatme,winked,thensaidtotheguy,“Icanseeyou’rebusy—Iswearit’llonlytakeaminute.”
Ihadnoideawhatwashappeningashewalkedintotheguy’sofficeandclosedthedoorbehindhim.Igiggledawkwardlyasthesecurityguardstraightenedandgavemeachin-nod,andIhadnoideawhatIwouldsayifheaskedmewhereIwassupposedtobeorwhatIwasdoing.
“Jerome?”TheguyintheofficewithNickopenedthedoorandyelledtothesecurityguard.“Hey,canyoucomeinhereforasec?”
Weweresobusted.
“Noproblem.”Theguardwentintotheofficeandclosedthedoorbehindhim.Ilookedaroundintheemptyhallwayandsnortedoutalittlelaugh,becauselifehadgottendownrightbizarre.
IcouldseeNickinthefancyoffice,talkingtothetwoguys.Aminutelater,thesecurityguardandtheexecutivestartedlaughing.Whatintheactual…?ThedooropenedandNick—lookinglikeanincorrigiblechildashebeamedatme—said,“C’mon,Em.”
Iblinkedandwalkedovertotheoffice,cluelessastowhatexactlywashappening.WhenIreachedhisside,Nickgrabbedmyhandandsaid,“ButnowIoweBillandJeromeafavor.”
“Who?”
“Hi,I’mBill,”theexecutivesaid,smilingatmelikewe’dbeeninvitedfortea.
“Jerome.Nicetomeetyou,”saidtheguard,grinningatmelikeIwasadorable.
“Nicetomeetyouboth,”ImutteredasNickpulledmeforward.HepulledmepastBill’sdesk,turnedtheknob,andopenedthedoorthatledoutside.
“I’mhavingJeromelockthedoorintenminutes,”Billsaidascoldairrushedin.
“We’llbedoneinfive,”Nicksaid,linkinghisfingerstightlybetweenmineandpullingmeoutonthebalcony.ThesecondthedoorclosedbehindusIgapedathim.
“Ohmygawwwwwd—howdidyoudothis?”Igasped,dragginghimclosertowardtheedge.“Whatdidyoutellthem?”
Hesmirked.“WhichoneshouldIanswerfirst?”
“Bothofthem.Wow.”Webothwalkedalittlefartheroutonthebalcony,andthecitybelowwasbreathtaking.Itwasquietupthere,eventhoughIcouldhearthedistantsoundsofthestreets,andItotallyunderstoodthewholegood-place-for-a-proposalthing.
“Isimplyexplainedthatwe’dbeenonamissiontofindtheelusivebalcony.”Hisfacelookedalittleweirdwhenhesaid,“Iguessthey’rejustniceguys.”
Ilookedoutattheviewandbreathed,“Thisisincredible.”
Itriedpicturingmyparentsupthere,youngandstillinlove.Hadmydadbeennervous?Worriedmymommightsayno?Hadshecriedtearsofjoybeforeshouting“athousandtimesyes!”?Hadshegrittedherteeth,irritatedthathe’demployedsuchabig,overdramaticgesture?
Itwassilly,butIfeltalittleemotional,standingwhereithappened.
“Yeah.”Nickranahandoverthetopofhishairandsaid,“Ihadn’tpictureditbeingthiscool.”
“FortystoriesisactuallywayhigherthanIenvisioned,”Iadded,notcourageousenoughtowalktotheedge,eventhoughtherailingwouldbenearlyimpossibletogetover.“Thankyouformakingthishappen.”
“It’stheDONC,Hornby—noconsequences.”
Movementbehindhimcaughtmyeye,andthenIgasped.Becausetherewereabunchofpeople—like,asmallcrowd—gatheringonthatbalconyjustoutsideofBill’soffice.Itlookedlikeeveryoneandtheirassistants—andaw,geez,thesecurityguard—hadsteppedouttocongregateand…stareatus…?
“Nick,whatdidyoutellBill?”WhenIlookedbackathisface,hiseyeswereonmylipsandIalmostforgotwhatwashappening,butIasked,“Togethimtoletusouthere?”
Heshruggedcasuallyandsaid,“Don’tworryabou—”
“Becausewehaveacrowdwatchingus.”
“What?”Nickglancedbehindhim.“Oh,shit.”
“Oh,shit,what?Istheresomething—”
“ItoldhimIwantedtocomeouthereforapromposal.”
“Apromposal?”Icouldn’tbelievehe’dsaidthat—ofcoursetheywereouthere.Adultslovedthatsappycrap.“Nick.”
Helookedunfazedashesaid,“We’lljusttellthemIaskedandyousaidyes.”
Iwaitedfortherest,butapparentlythatwasit.“That’snotapromposal.”
Helookedsurprised.“It’snot?”
“No.”Irolledmyeyesandexplained,“Thatisaskingsomeonetotheprom.Apromposaliswhensomeonedoessomethinghugeinordertoconvincesomeonetosayyes.Gettingacelebritytohelp,makingacake,singingasong,askinginthreemillionrosepetals,doingadance—howdoyounotknowthis?”
Tobefair,thatwasjustwhatIknew—perhapstheydiditdifferentlyelsewhere.Butinmytown,atourschool,that’swhatitmeant.Next-levelstuffthelikesofanengagementproposal.
“Whywouldanyonedothatforprom?”heasked,lookingdisgusted.“It’sjustadance.”
“Doyoureallywanttodiscussthemeritsofapromposalwithmeatthismoment?Thatcrowd—andthesecurityguard—iswaitingforashow.”
Hedidn’tsayawordbutgotouthisphoneandstartedscrolling.
Iglancedbehindhimatthespectators,whowerestillstaringexpectantly.
“Um,Nick…?”
“Hangon.”Hescrolledforanotherminute,thenlookedatmeandgrinned.
“Nick—”
Hisphonestartedplayingmusic—loudly.ButbeforeIcouldaskhimwhatthehellhewasdoing—wasthat“CupidShuffle”?—hehandedmethephone.
Itookit,andthenhebackeduplikefivebigstepsandstarteddoingtheworstversionoftheCupidShufflethatI’deverseen.Heworeacheesysmilewhiledoingarigid,absolutelypatheticrenditionofthelinedance.
“Seriously?”Iyelled.
Istartedlaughing—no,cackling—whenheyelledoverthemusic,“EmilieHornby,willyouCupidShufflewithmetotheprom?”
“Um,”Iyelledbackthroughtheuncontrollablegiggles,“areyousayingyou’remyCupid,shufflingtowinmypromfavor?”
“Yes!”Henoddedwhilegoingto-the-left-to-the-left-to-the-left.“ThatisexactlywhatI’msaying!”
Andthenhedidaspontaneousspinmove.
“HowdoyouknowtheCupidShuffle?”Iasked,knowingwithoutactuallyknowingthatNickStarkhadneverdonealinedanceinhisentirelife.
“I’vebeentoaweddingbefore,andalso,thesongtellsyouwhattodo.Nowpleasesayyes.”
Icouldn’tseethroughthetears,andmystomachhurtfromlaughingsohard.“First—tellmeyouloveme.”
Heshookhishead.“Iloveyourhairandyoursensibleshoes,youannoyingpainintheass.Pleasesayyou’llpromme.”
“Yes!”Iscreameddramatically,jumpingupanddown,makingthepeoplebehindusburstintoapplause.“Yes,Iwillpromyousohard!”
Nickgavemealookandyelled,“Comejoinme,Emmie!”
“Nah,I’mgoo—”
“Getoutthere,”Jeromeshouted,givingmeadad-look.“Putthatboyoutofhismisery.”
“Aren’ttheredrugsforthat?”
Nickgrabbedmyhand,andIcontinuedcacklingfortheentirerestofthesongasweline-dancedlikewewereataweddingwithasmallteamofcorporateexecutivesjoininginbehindus.
“Thiswasagreatidea,Hornby,”Nickteasedashewentto-the-right-to-the-right
Ilaughed,stilldancingasIlookedatthebeautifulskylineandtheboynexttome.“Iknow.”CONFESSION#13
IkissedChrisBakerinthebackofanRVinseventhgrade,andtothisdayIcan’tsmellPolowithoutrememberinghownoisyhisrunningpantswere.
Whentheelevatordoorsopened,therewerethreeguysinside,dressedinsuitsandexpensivehaircuts.Westeppedinfrontofthem,quietlystandingsidebysideaswerodetheelevatorcardown.
“I’mabouttosmashsomewafflefries,”oneoftheguyssaidfrombehindus.
“Iwishthey’dbringbackBernie’sPizza.Ilikechicken,don’tgetmewrong,butit’sbeentheonlyoptionfortoodamnlong.”
“SogogetBernie’s.”
“Nah,bro—I’mtoolazyandthecafistooconvenient.”
IlookedatNicktoseeifhealsothoughtthewaytheyweretalkingwasridiculous,andthewayheheldhismouthalittletootenselytoldmehewasfightingbackalaugh,too.
Oneofthemsaid“Thisisus”whenthedoorsopened,andthetriofiledoutwhenwescootedoutoftheway.
Nickletoutabigbreath,butwhenthedoorsstartedtoclosehestuckhishandout,andtheybeganopeningupagain.Quirkingoneeyebrowinanadorableway,hesaid,“Hey.Youwannagosmashsomestripsinthecaf?”
Isquealed.“Ooh—doyouthinkwecan?”
Heshrugged.“Whynot?Iftheykickusoutnow,wealreadygotwhatwewanted.”
Istartedtogetexcited.“Mymomneverletmeeatchickenstripsgrowingup,sothey’remysecretfavoritefoodnowthatIonlygetwhenIsneak.”IknewIwasramblingbutIcouldn’thelpit.“Y’know,whenshe’snotaround.”
“Who’snotallowedtoeatchickenstrips?”Hiseyesdidthecrinklethingashesaid,“Youpoor,deprivedlittlebook-nerd.”
Ilaughedatthat.“Right?”
Hegesturedtowardtheelevatordoors.“Let’sgo,then.”
Assoonaswewalkedoutoftheelevator,thesoundsandsmellsofthecorporatelunchroomsurroundedus.Wefollowedinthedirectionofthedudes,andboom—justaroundthecornerfromthebankofelevatorswasanenormouscafeteria.
Thereweretablesinthecenteroftheroom,andfoodstationsallaroundtheperimeter.EverythinglookedlikegenericcafeteriafoodexceptfortheChachi’sChickenbooth,whereagenerouslinewasalreadyforming.
“Chicken?”heasked,hiseyesmovingaroundthecornersofthecafeteria.
“Chicken,”Ireplied.
Whilewewaitedinline,hetoldmeaboutthetimehissisterranoverthefootofaChick-fil-Aemployeeinthedrive-thru,andIwastearingupfromlaughterbythetimewesatdownwithourfood.
“Ican’tbelieveshewentbackoverit,”Isaid,andlaughed.
“Shesaidthatwhenhescreamed,itwassimplehumannatureforhertobackuptoseewhatwasthematter.”
“Thereisalogicthere,”Isaid.
“Iguess,”hesaid,dippingachickenstripintohiscupofranch.
“So.”Igrabbedthetable’sketchupbottleandsquirtedablobontomyplate.“Yousaidyou’veneverbeeninlove,but…like,youdobelieveinit,right?”
“Whoa.”Hetiltedhisheadandhiseyebrowswentdown.“Youarepersistent.What’reyoudoing,Hornby?”
“LearningaboutmyDONCpartner.Now,ifyou’reshy—I’llstart.”Inreallife,IwouldneverbroachthistopicofconversationbecauseofcourseIwouldcomeoffasstiflingandpathetic.ButIwantedtoknowthesethingsabouthim,soIwastakingadvantageofthiserasableday.Itdidn’tmatterwhathethoughtofthisbecausehe’dneverrememberit.
AssoonasIthoughtthat,though,Ifeltalittleacheofsadness.I’dbeenhavingsomuchfunthatthefactthattomorrowwouldbeareset,andNickwouldremembernothing—seemedkindoftragic.“Okay.So.Eventhoughyoudon’tseeitveryofteninreallife,Iabsolutelybelieveintruelove.Ithinkitrequiresworkandlogic,asopposedtofate,butit’sthereifyoulookhardenough.”
Hegaveanod,likehewasacceptingmypoint,andwipedhishandsonhisnapkin.“Butdoesn’tthatsoundalittleoversimplifiedtoyou?ItsoundslikeakidsayingtheybelieveinSanta.Like,yes—ofcourseitsoundsgreat—butifitsoundstoogoodtobetrue,itprobablyis.”
Idippedafryinmyketchup.“Socynical.”
“It’snotcynicalatall.”Heslidahandfuloffriesthroughmyketchupblobandsaid,“Idon’tgrouchilybegrudgelove—Ijustdon’texpectittocomedownmychimneywithasackfullofpresents.”
“LoveisnotthesameasSantaClaus.”
“Howisitnot?”heasked,pickinguphissodacup.“Youhopeandwishforit,peekingtoseeiffatehasbroughttheOnetoyourdoorstep,theOnewhomakesyouhappyforever.”
Ipickedupastripandpointeditathim.“It’snotthesamebecauseyou’renotrelyingonmagicandpretend.”
“Haveyoueverseenafirstdate?”Hetookasipofhispopbeforesaying,“Talkaboutyourmagicandpretend.”
“Howareyouevergoingtogethappy,”Iasked,takingabitebeforesaying,“whenyou’rethinkingthatway?”
Helookedatmeandcrossedhisarmsoverhischest.“I’mnotlookingto‘gethappy.’?”
Istoppedchewing.Hedidn’tappeartobejoking.“Areyouoneofthoseguyswholikesbeingbroody?”
Hiseyebrowsfurrowedandhelookedoffended,likethatsuggestionwasaninsult.“No.”
“Sowhywouldn’tyouwanttobehappy?”
Heshruggedandpickeduphissoda.“Ididn’tsaythatIdon’twanttobehappy.IsaidthatI’mnotlookingtogethappy.It’snotmygoal.”
Iwipedmymouthwithmynapkinbeforesettingitdownonthetray.“But—”
“Imean,areyoualwayshappy?”heasked,andIgotalittledistractedbythesightofhisAdam’sapplemovingasheswallowedhisCoke.
“Well,ofcoursenot,”Isaid,puttingmyfingeroverthetopofmystraw.“ButI’dliketobe.Imean,happykindofisthegoal.Like,forlife,right?”
“Well,sure,but—”
“Becausehappyislife’sdefault.”Ipulledthestrawfrommycup,liftedittomymouth,andmovedmyfinger,lettingthesodadripintomymouth.“Contentisthebaseline.Sometimeswe’renot,andsometimeswe’refreakingecstatic,buthappyisthedefault.”
“You’reabsolutelywrong.”Hesetdownhiscupandlookedalittlebitintense.“Existenceisthedefault.Merelyexisting,emotionally,isthebaseline.Happyis,like,thisfloating,fluidthingthat’simpossibletoholdonto.Elusiveasfuck.Sometimesyougetluckyandhaveit,butit’sonlyamatteroftimebeforeitslipsbackoutofyourhands.”
Ishookmyhead,tryingtofigureouthowhecouldhavesuchableakoutlook.“ThatisthemostdepressingthingI’veeverheard.”
“Noit’snot.”
“Yes,ittotallyis.”Idroppedeverythingonthetray,donewithfidgetingbecauseIneededtofindawaytochangehisridiculousmind.“Accordingtoyourtheory,anytimeyou’rehappy,youhavetosleepwithoneeyeopenbecauseit’sgoingtoimplodeatanymoment.”
Hegaveasurprisedlittlecoughoflaughterandrubbedhischeek.“That’skindofthetruth,though.”
“Whohurtyou,Stark?”Iteased,andregrettedittheinstanthelookedatme.Because—man,ohman—therewasawholelotofsadinhiseyes.Forjustasplitsecond,helookedlikeaverysadlittleboy.
Thenhesmirked,andjustasquicklyitwasgone.“Whoshotyouupwithhappyfairydustiskindofthebiggerquestion.”
“It’snothappydustatall.IknowthatI’mtheonlyonewhotrulycaresaboutmyhappiness,soImakeitapriority.Youshouldseriouslytry—like,reallytry,lookingateverythinginadifferentlight.”
Nowhesmiled.“Isthatso?”
“Yes.”Ismiledbackathimandsaid,“Thinkaboutit.Onanormalday,youmightbethinking,‘ItsucksthatIhavetogotoschool.’?”
Hesaidwithastraightface,“Iwouldneverthinkthat—educationisimportant.”
“YougetwhatImean.Onanormaldaywhenyou’refeelinglessthanpositive,forceyourselftochangeyourthinking.Insteadof‘ItsucksthatIhavetogotoschool,’think‘It’ssuchanicedaythatmaybeafterschoolIwillreclinetheseatofmytruckandreadagoodbookwhilethebreezesmellslikespringtime.’?”
Nowheflat-outlaughedatme.“WhywouldIeverthinksomethingthatridiculous?”
“Howabout,‘AtleastIgettositnexttoEmilieHornbyinChemistry—hubba,hubba.’?”
“Reallywiththat?”hesaid,backtofull-onsarcasticteasingwithhistwinklingeyes.
“Oh,likeyou’veneverthoughtthewords‘hubba,hubba.’?”
Hesaid,“IcanpromiseyouIhavenot.”
“Well,whataboutyourfriends,Mr.ExistenceIstheDefault?”Ileanedonthetable,wantingtolearneverysinglethingabouthim,andasked,“Howisitthatyou’reabsolutelyfreeofhighschoolcliquesanddrama?Iseeyouaroundschoolsometimes,andyouappeartohavefriends,butIneverhearaboutyousocializingatall.Neverseeyouatanyparties,orfootballgames,anyotherschoolfunctions…”
“And…?”
“And…what’sthestory?Doyouhangwithyourfriendsanddoactivities,orareyouanactualhermit?”
Helookedovermyshoulder,likehewaswatchingsomeoneorthinkingaboutsomething,andIexpectedhimtogivemeasmart-assnonanswer.Butthenhesaid,“Iusedtohangwithmyfriendsalotmore.Butsomewherealongtheway,Istoppedcaringabouteverythinghighschool.Itjustfeelsso…pointless.Notthelearning,butallofthegames.”
Hiseyeslandedonmineandhelooked…intense.“SometimesItrytopowerthroughsoI’mnota‘hermit’—asyousodelightfullyputit—butitjustfeelsmeaningless.”
“Oh.”Ididn’tknowwhattosaytothat.“Well,maybeifyoutreatit—”
“SweartoGod,Hornby,Iwillloseitifyoutellmetobepositive.”
Thatmademesmile.“Well,itwouldn’thurt,youknow.”
Onecornerofhismouthslidupasmidge.“Ithinkitmight,actually.”CONFESSION#14
Ioncewrote“BethMillssmells”onabathroomstallatmyjuniorhighaftershetoldeveryonethatthesummercampIattendedwasactuallyasthmacamp.
AfterleavingtheFirstBankbuildingcafeteria,Nickgavemeapiggybackridetothetattooshop,lettingmeburymycoldnoseinhisneckwithoutcomplaining,andwhenhefinallystopped,hestraightenedandIclimbeddown.The402Inkstorefrontlookedcoolbecauseithadnomarkingsatall,otherthanaredneonsignatthebottomofthewindow
Hepulledopenthedoor,andIfollowedhiminside.
Hesaidoverhisshoulder,“Gettingscared?”
“Notatall.Bringontheneedling.”
Istrolledthroughthelobby,wherethereweredrawingsoftattoosalloverthewallsandtheceiling.Iwasnervous,yes,butmostlyIwasexcited.GettingatattoowassomethingI’dneverconsidered,somethingIneverwould’vehadthegutstodobeforethiswholerepeating-daysfiasco.
Now,however,itfeltlikesomethingIhadtodowhileIhadafreepass.Itwouldserve,howevertemporarily,asaprintedreminderofthedaywhere—foronce—IdidwhatIwantedinsteadofwhatIthoughtIshoulddo,insteadofdoingwhateveryoneelseexpected.
IbarelyhadachancetotakeitallinbeforeIheardNicksay,“IsDanteworkingtoday?”
Iraisedmyeyesfromthewallandlookedathim,standinginfrontofthereceptiondesk.“Soyoudohaveacontingent.”
Hejustlookedoveratmeandwinked.
I’dalwaysthoughtwinkingwascheesyuntilthatday.Nick’swinksmademewarmandmelty.
ThepersonIassumedtobeDantecameoutfromthebackroomandtheydidawholehandshakethingwhileIstrolledtheroom,lookingatpictures.Afterasolidtenminutesoflow-talking,IheardNicksay,“WhataretheoddsthatyoucouldfitmyfriendEmilieinthisafternoon?”
“Sure.”Danteglancedoveratmeandasked,“Doyouknowwhatyouwant?AndhaveID?”
IpulledmyIDoutofmypocket,walkedovertohim,andranahandthroughmyhair.“Yeah.Here.Andit’sjustsevenwords.ItookascreenshotofafontIlike.”
“Whatsevenwords?”NickputhishandsinhispocketsandlookedatmyIDsuspiciously.
“Noneofyourbusiness.”
“That’sfour,”Dantesaid.
“Keepinmindthatthisisonyouforlife,Hornby,”Nicksaid.
Idon’tknowwhy,butIreallylikeditwhenhecalledmebymylastname.“Er,doy,Stark.”ButlittledidheknowthatI’dwakeuptomorrowonanotherFebruary14,skinfreshandun-inked.
Dantehadtogohelpsomeonewhowalkedinafterus,andNickgavemealook.Heleanedcloser,loweredhisvoice,andasked,“WhydoyouhaveafakeID?”
MyfacegotwarmasIstuttered,“Idon’t—Imean,it’snot—”
“I’mnotgoingtotellonyou.”Henudgedmewithhiselbow,andmystomachwentwildwithbutterflies.Hisdeepvoicerumbledout,“Ijustcan’tbelievebookishEmilieHornbyhasafake.Afakelibrarycard,maybe,butafakedriver’slicense?Notsomuch.”
Ifeltalittlelessridiculousandsaid,“Chrisworkswithaguywhoboughtsomekindofblack-marketmachineandhepracticedonus.”
HismouthdroppedintoanO.“Chris?Ultra-niceChrisfromDrama?”
“Yup.”
Heshookhishead,smiling.“Yougoody-goodiesareouthererunningwild.Whoknew?”
“Ready?”Dantewasback,andIfollowedhimtoaroom,gratefulNickwaswithme;Iwasactuallyalittlenervous.WhenIshowedDantewhatIwanted—oneofmyfavoritelyrics—Nicksaid,“Areyousure?Imean,Igetthatyou’refeelingbravetoday,butinafewyears,orevenhours,youmightregrethavingthistattooedonyourskin.”
Isaid,“Believeme,IknowwhatI’mdoing.”
Ididn’t,oratleastwithregardtothetechnicalitiesofatattooIdidn’t.IstartedtogetnervousasNicksatdownonthechairtomyleft,andDantegrabbedthestooltomyright.AfterDantewipeddownmyforearm,rubbedonthetemplate,andturnedonthegun,Iquicklylearnedjusthowpainfulgettingatattoowas.
Imean,yeah,itwasrelative.Itwasn’tlikegettingatoothextractedorgettingstabbedinthefacewithascrewdriver,butitfeltlikesomeonewasstickinganeedleinmyarmandthendraggingitdownmyskin.
Because,youknow,theywere
“Sohowdoyouguysknoweachother?”IfelttheneedtosaysomethingasDanteleanedovermyarmandworkedmeover,eventhoughIknewexactlyhowtheykneweachother.“JustfromNick’stattoos?”
Nicksaid,“You’resonosy.”
“Heworkshere.”Dantedidn’tglanceup,butsaid,“Stark’sourlittlebitch;hedidn’ttellyouthat?”
IraisedaneyebrowandgrinnedatNick,andhegavemeahead-shakewhilehalfsmiling.Lookingathisfacemademethinkofthealmost-kiss,andIdon’tknowifmyfacechangedornot,buthisdid.
Hisjawflexedandhiseyeswerehotasthemomenthungthere.Itfeltliketherewasaninvisiblestring,pullingmeinhisdirection.Aninvisiblestringthathadanelectricalcurrentthatactuallyfeltstrongerthantheneedledraggingthroughmyskin.Iswallowedandblinked.
WhathadDantejustsaid?
“No,um,hefailedtomentionthatdetail.”
“What,areyouashamedofus,Nickie?”Danteteased.
Nicksaid,“She’stoonosyanddoesn’tneedtoknowshit.”
Thatmademesnort.“Whatever.Nickie.”
Dantethoughtthatwasprettyfunny,butIcouldn’tlaughbecauseNickwaslookingatmelikethatagain.TheintensityofhisgazerenderedmeincapableofallthoughtandcommunicationasDantegruntedandmutteredsyllableswhilefinishingmytattoo.
WhenDantewasfinallyfinished,heshowedmethetattooandIgasped,lightlyrunningmyfingersaroundthenewlyinkedspotonmyarm.“Wow—thisisincredible.”
Ihadamarveloustimeruiningeverything
Ilovedit.
Dantelefttheroomtogogetsomething,andNickstood.Hesteppedclosertomeandslidhishandundermyforearmsohecouldraiseittohiseyes.Mybreathgotstuckinmychestashemovedhisthumbjustunderthetattoo—eversosoftly—whilehewassoclosetomethatIcouldn’trememberwhattheworldlookedlikebeyondhisface.
“Ilikeit,”hesaid,histhumbstillbrushingbackandforthovermyskin.Itfeltlikehewastalkingaboutmorethanthetattooashisfacehoveredovermine,aninchaway.
“Letmejustputthisonyourarm,”Dantesaidashechargedbackintotheroom,atubeofsomethinginonehandandSaranWrapintheother,“andyoucanbeonyourway.”
Nicktookastepback,andIwastooshockedtodoanythingotherthannodandtrytomakemyheartbeatslowdown.NickwalkedoutoftheroomandDantetalkedtomeabouthowtotakecareofthetattoowhileheputsalveonitandcovereditinabandageandplasticwrap.Ibarelylistened,knowingthetattoowouldbegonewhenIwokeuptoanotherFebruary14.
WhenDanteledmeouttothelobby,myDONCpartnerwasstandingoverbythefrontdoor,talkingtoaguywithspikyblackhairandtattoosalloverhisarms.Mycheeksgotinsta-hotwhenNickglancedoveratme,andIquicklyfollowedDantetothecounter.
Ipaid,andwhenIwassigningthereceipt,Dantesaid,“How’dyougetthelittlehermittocomeoutandplay?”
“Iactuallybulliedhimintocoming.”Ihandedhimthepieceofpaperandhesmiledareallynice,reallywarmsmile.
“WellI’mglad.Nickie’sgrownuptoofastsincetheaccidentandheneedstohavealittlefun.”
“Accident?”IglancedbehindmetomakesureNickdidn’thearandthinkIwasbeingnosy.“Nickwasinanaccident?”
“NotNick—Eric.”
“Eric…?”
“Hisbrother.Today’stheanniversary?”
Nickcameoverandstraightenedthelookbookonthecounter.“Youready,Hornby?”Hedidn’tlooklikeheoverheardanything,andIcouldn’thelpbutfeellikeIstumbleduponsomethingNickdidn’twantmetoknow.
Inoddedandclearedmythroat.“Ready,Stark.”
Nicksaidagoodbyetohisfriends,andIyelled,“Thankyou!”aswewalkedoutthefrontdoor.
“Jesus,it’scold,”Nickgrumbled,zippinghisjacket.
Ihuggedmyownjacket—no,hisjacket—tightertomybody.“HaveIthankedyouforyourdelightfulcoat?”
“Noproblem.”Helookedatme,andhiseyesroameddownoverthebigcoatbeforehegotafunnyexpressiononhisface.Heswallowedvisiblyandhisjawflexed,andhewasquietforamomentbeforefinallyclearinghisthroatandsaying,“Sowheretonext?”
Iglancedtomyleftandpointedtotheladderbesideusthatranupthesideofasquattybrickbuilding.Myeyesfolloweditsupwardtrajectory,anditlookedlikethebuildingwasonlyafewstorieshigh.AllIwantedwastodistractNickfromwhateverhadjustmadehisfacelooksad,andwhenyoucombinedthatgoalwiththefactthatitwastheDONC,climbingontoarooftopseemedlikeagreatidea.
“Nope,”Nicksaid.
“Becausewewerealreadyuponabalcony?”
“Becauseifwe’regoinguponaroof,we’retakingsomethinghottodrink.”Heturnedhisattentionfromtheladdertome.“AndIknowabetterspot.Comeon.”Nickgrabbedmyhandandpulledme,tuggingmecloserashestartedwalkingdownthesidewalk.Hislegsweresomuchlongerthanminethathewaspracticallydraggingme.
“Slowdown,”Isaid,andlaughed.
“It’stoocoldforslow,Em.”Hebroughtustoastop,turnedaround,andgavemehisback.“Geton.”
“Again?”Iasked,alittlebreathlessovertheintimateuseofmynickname.“Icanwalkfaster—youdon’thavetocarrymelikeasmallchild.”
Helookedatmeoverhisshoulder.“Nah—Ilikeit.KeepsmewarmandIgetbuzzedonyourperfume.”
WesharedafunnysmilebeforeIclimbedon,likewewerewordlesslyacknowledgingthisattraction.Iwrappedmyarmsaroundhisneckandhesaid,whilegrabbingmylegsandholdingthemtighteragainsthisbody,“Let’sgo.”
Hetookoff,walkingsofastthatitwasthespeedofmyrun.Luckilytherewasn’tmuchpedestriantrafficsoitwaseasyforhimtotrudgedownthestreetwithapassengerclingingtohisbody.
“Youokaybackthere,Hornby?”
“I’mgettingheavy,aren’tI?”
“Getting?”
“Shutup.”
IcouldfeelthevibrationofhislaughthroughhisbackandIlaughedtoo,tighteningmylegsaroundhimandearninganotherlaugh.Hewentanotherblock,thenputmedownwhenwegottoasmallcoffeecartonthecorner.THRIVECOFFEEappearedtobeacharminglyrestoredcamperthatwasallshinywoodandcontemporaryfinishes.
ThepersonwhowasworkinglookedatusthroughtheorderingwindowandsaidtoNick,“Isawyourparentsyesterday,andyourmomstilllookspissedatme.”
Nickgrinnedandsaid,“Youwreckedhercar—doesthissurpriseyou?”
Theguy—hisnametagsaidTylerandhelookedlikehewasprobablyinhisearlytwenties—laughedandstartedtellingmeastoryaboutthetimeNickgavehimaridetoworkinhismother’scaranditgotstuckinthesnow.Apparently,TylerwassupposedtojustgivethecaralittlegaswhenNickgotbehinditandpushed,butTylerthoughtitmademoresensetogunitand“blowthatbitchoutofthesnowbank,”whichresultedinthecarshootingforward,swervingandslammingintoaparkingmeter.
Nickwasfull-onlaughing.“Tygotoutofthecar,lookedatthedamage,andthenseemedgenuinelyoffendedbywhattheparkingmeterhaddone.”
Itwaskindofamazing,witnessingNicklookingtotallyhappy.Iwasalmostovercomewiththedesperateneedtodowhatevernecessarytomakehimlikethatallthetime.
“ThisisEmilie,bytheway,”NicksaidtoTy,andweexchangednice-to-meet-yous.
ThenTylerasked,“Shouldn’tyoukidsbeinschoolrightnow?”
“Weactuallyshould,”Nicksaid,turninghissmilingeyesonme.“Thiscriminalconvincedmetoditchwithher.Nowshewantstoclimbontoaroofinthecoldlikethisisagoddamnmovie.”
“Nice.”Tylernoddedhisapproval.“TakingherthroughT.J.’s,then?”
Nicknodded.“Yeah,butweneedhotdrinksfirst.”
“Theusual,BigMan?”
“Makeittwo.”
Tylerdisappearedfromourlineofsighttomakeourdrinks,andIsaid,“Whoareyou,NickStark?”
Henarrowedhiseyes,andagustofwindblewbetweenuswhenhesaid,“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Imean,peopleouragedon’thaveactuallives.Wehangoutwithschoolfriendsandmaybe,like,drivetothemall.Buthereyouare,”Isaid,gesturingatthecoffeestandandthedowntownbuildings,“Withgrown-upfriendsand,like,adowntownlife.Areyouasecretagent?Areyouactuallyforty?”
Hiseyesmovedallovermyfaceandhesaidinalowvoice,“Icouldtellyou,butthenI’dhavetokillyou.”
“Theyalwayssaythat,butdotheyreallyhavetomurder?”Ituckedmyblowinghairbehindmyearsandsaid,“Can’titbe‘Icouldtellyou,butthenyou’dhavetopromisetokeepmysecretforever’?”
“Twolargemochas,extrachocolate,doublewhippedcream.”Tylerappearedinthewindowwithtwohugepapercoffeecups.
IlookedatNick,whoclearlyhadamassivesweettooth,andsaid,“Ihaveacavityjustfromhearingthatorder.”
“Right?”TylergrabbedNick’sdebitcardandtheystartedtalkingaboutsomeoneIdidn’tknowasheranguptheorder,andIjustwatched.Nickseemedsocomfortable—sowarm—whenhewaswithhisfriends,andthatwasasideIhadn’treallyseenbefore.Atschool,healwaysjustseemedlikehewastryingtogetthroughthedaywithouthavingtotalktoanyone.
This…wassodifferent.
Afterwefinishedatthecoffeestand,Nickledmeoneblockover,wherewewentinsideanunmarkedapartmentbuilding.Herefusedtoansweranyquestions,simplywalkedaheadofme.Wetookanelevatortothetopfloor,wentdownalonghallwayandintothemaintenancecloset,andthenNickgesturedtoaladderthatsatbetweentworustyboilersandlookedlikeitleduptoacage.“I’llgofirstandopenthehatchifyou’llholdmycup.”
Iblinked.“Um,what?Whathatch?”
Heheldouthissteamingdrinkandsaidwithhiseyesonmine,“Doyoutrustme?”
Ijustnoddedandheldoutmyfreehand.
“Goodgirl.”Hegavemehiscup,thenturnedandstartedgoinguptheladdertoGodknowswhere.Iheardhisshoesoneachmetalrung,andthenallIcouldhearwasthesoundofhardwarebeforeagustoficywindblewaroundmeandtheboilerroomwasfloodedwithlight.
“I’mcomingformycoffee,”Iheardhimsayasheclimbedbackdown,“sodon’ttrytostartclimbingwithfullhands.”
Asecondlaterhislegscamedowninfrontofmeandhegrabbedhiscoffee.“Youshouldprobablygoupfirst,soifyouslip,I’mheretobreakyourfall.Doyouthinkyoucanclimbone-handed?Ifnot,I’llleavemycupdownhereandIcancarryyours.”
“Wow.”Ilookedupatthechuteandsaid,“Sochivalrous.”
Heraisedhiseyebrowsandsaid,“That,orIreallylikethelooksofthoseleatherpantsfrombehind.”
Ifsomeoneelsehadsaidthat,Imight’vewantedtoslugthem.Buthislopsidedgrintoldmehesaiditonpurposebecauseheknewitwouldrilemeup.Irolledmyeyesandstartedclimbing.
OnceIgottothetopoftheladderandsteppedoutontotheroof,Iwasassaultedbyfreezing-coldwinterair.Nickemergedbehindme,andbeforeIcouldevenlookaround,hesaid,“Closeyoureyes.”
Idid,butIsaid,“Thisseemslikeabadideaonaroof.”
“Iknow,Iknow,”hesaid,andIfelthimgrabmyfreehandandstarttoleadme.“ButIpromisenottokillyou.Ijustdon’twantyoutoseeituphereuntilyou’reintheperfectspot.”
“Ialreadysawthecityfromtheforty-secondfloor.Howdifferentcanthisbe?”
“Youhavenoidea.”Ilethimmaneuverme,leadingmearoundthingsuntilfinally,hestopped.Hisbreathwaswarmonmycheekasheleanedincloseandsaidinaquietvoice,“Okay,Emmie—openyoureyes.”CONFESSION#15
IwentoutforbasketballinseventhgradebecauseIthoughtitwouldmakemepopular.IworepinkChuckTaylorsandIscoredtwopointsovertheentireseason.Itdidn’twork.
IopenedmyeyesandwasbreathlessasItookinthebeauty.Wheretheskyscraperhadbeencoolbecauseyoucouldseeeverythingfromwayabove,thisviewwasasifIwassurroundedinahugofmyfavoritecity.WewererightintheheartoftheOldMarket,justaboveit,sowecouldseethehorse-drawncarriagesandthepeoplewalkingandthehugefountainthey’djustinstalledlastsummer.
WewereintheOldMarket,asopposedtoaboveit,butwewereinvisible.
Itwasbreathtaking.Iwhispered,“Thisismagical.”
“Right?”hesaid,lookingoutatsomethingonthehorizon.“Thisismyfavoritespotinthecity.”
“Again,whoareyou?”Itookasipoftherich,decadenthotchocolatecoffeeandlookedathisstrongjaw.“Howdoyouknowaboutthis?”
“Mybrotherusedtoliveinthisbuilding,”hesaid,stilllookingatsomethingfaraway.“SoeverytimeIcameover,wealwayshungoutuphere.”
“Lucky.Mysiblingsaretinyandnotreallymyrealsiblings.Wheredoeshelivenow?”
IwasstaringoutatthefountainbutwhenNickdidn’tanswer,Iturnedtohim.Fidgetingwiththecuffsofhissleeves,hesighedandsaid,“Yeah,thisisawkward.Hedoesn’t.”
Ohno.THEaccident.“Um,Nick,I—”
“HediedinanATVaccident.”
“Nick,Iamsosorry.”
Heshrugged.“It’sokay;it’snotlikeitjusthappened.Imean,it’sbeen,like,ayear.”
“Ayear?That’snotaverylongtimeatall.”Ayearwaslikeithappenedyesterday.
“It’sfine.”Hedidn’tlookdevastated,liketherewasfreshgrief.Helooked…weigheddownwithit.Exhaustedbyit.Drainedbyitashegavemeatiredsmile.“Ididn’tmeantodropthatonyou.It’ssoweirdtotalkabout.”
“Well—”
“It’sactuallyayeartoday.”Heswallowedandlookedlikehewastryingtosoundcasualwhenhesaid,“HediedlastValentine’sDay.”
“Seriously?”
Hegavemeahalf-smileandsaid,“How’sthatforaHallmarkholiday,right?”
“Iwouldwanttodrop-kickeveryonetalkingaboutflowersandcandy,ifIwereyou.”Itfeltsick,theideaofsomeonedyingonadaywherepeoplesentballoonbouquetsandheart-shapedpizzas.Ialsofeltlikeatotalbabyforfeelingsorryformyselfaboutmyparents’breakupanniversarywhenNickwasdealingwiththis.“Like,whogivesacrap?”
Thatmadehissmilegrowjustalittle.“Right?”
Ittotallymadesensenow,thewayhelivedhisadult-in-a-high-school-bodykindoflife.Howwouldthingslikepromandpartiesandbasketballgamesseemlikeanythingotherthanpointlessnessafterexperiencingalosslikethat?
“Itotallygetitifyoudon’twanttoDONCwithme,Nick.”Isetmycupontherailingbesidewherehe’dsethis,shovedmyhandsinmypockets,andfeltguiltyfordragginghimalongonmyadventures.“Maybeyou’drather—”
“Hangoutwithmyparentsandlistentohowquietthehouseis?Nah—thisiswaybetter.”
Ifollowedhimovertoabenchthatsatnexttoadeadplantontheroof’scorner.Hesatdown,andwhenIsatbesidehim,hegrabbedmysleeveandpulledmecloser.Slidmeintohimsomybackwasleaningagainsthisfront.Hewrappedhisarmaroundmyshouldersandrestedhischinontopofmyhead.
“Thisokay?”hemurmured,andhisvoicevibratedthrougheveryfollicleofhaironmyhead.
“Mm-hmm,”Ireplied.
Wesattherelikethat,quietlywatchingtheworldalllaidoutinfrontofus,forwhatfeltlikeaverylongtime.Itwasn’tuncomfortable,though—justsilent.
“Y’know,theweirdestthingaboutitisthedisconnectinmybrainbetweenlifeanddeath.”Nick’svoicewasnonchalantwhenhesaid,“Icanspendanhourthinkingaboutthefactthathe’sdead,butthenfiveminuteslaterifIhearanoisedownthehall,I’llthinkbizarreshitlike,Emustbetakingashower.It’slikemybrainknowsbutmymemoryforgetsorsomething.”
“Um—that’ssoincrediblyawful.”
“Inaway.”Hisvoicewasquiet,andthesunmademycheeksmarginallylesscoldashesaid,“Butpartofmelikesthatconfusionbecauseforthathalf-second,itfeelslikethingsarenormal.Weird,right?”
“Notatall.”Myhearthurtforhim,andIsetmyhandontopofhis.“Butthehalf-secondafterthathalf-secondhastobeawful.”
“Theworst.”Hemadeahalf-laugh,half-groannoiseandsaid,“Howdidyouknowthat?”
“Idon’tknowhowitcouldn’tbe.”Iranmyfingeroverhisknuckleandaskedhim,“Wereyoutwoclose?”
“Yeah.Imean,closethewaybrothersthreeyearsapartareclose.Wespentmostofourchildhoodfighting,butwewerealwaystogether.”
“Youmustbesolonelynow.”Iknewtherewerethingsfarworsethanloneliness,butIalsoknewfirsthandthattheemptyachinessoffeelingalonecouldbeutterlysuffocating.Iturnedaroundonthebenchandsetmyhandsonhischeeks,strickenbythesadinhiseyes.
IhadnoideawhatIwasdoing,butIkissedthetipofhisnose.Becausethiswasn’taboutboysandgirlsandloveandattraction,thiswasaboutahumansoulneedingtofeelseen.Iknewthatbecauseeventhoughitwasn’tcomparableinscaletowhathemustbefeeling,Ifeltthatlonelinessoften.EverytimemymomforgotitwasherweekendormydadleftmeanotetellingmetojustorderapizzabecauseheandLisaandtheboysalreadyhaddinner,IfeltlikeIwasallaloneintheworld.
“Stopthat.”Nick’shandscoveredmine,trappingthemonhisface.“Stopwearingthatheartbreakinglookonyourface.WereyoujustthinkingaboutSutton?”
“What?”Thatmademesnort.AndIrealizedthatIfeltnothingatthementionofmyex-boyfriend.“Youknow,Iactuallyforgotthatheexisted.”
“Thenwhatwasthat?”Histhumbstrokedovermyhandasheremoveditfromhisfaceandthenwrappedhisfingersaroundmine.“Whatmadeyourfacesosad?”
Irubbedmylipstogether.Inever—ever—talkedaboutmyparentstoanyone.ButasNicklookedatmeasifheactuallywantedtoknow,Ifoundmyselftellinghimeverything.Ourfingersendeduplinkedtogether,caughtinbetweenusasIgotlostinramblingawayaboutinfightingandshinynewfamilies.
Ididn’trealizethelevelofshareIwasatuntilIsawthebubbleoftearsblurringmyvision.
No,no,no,youdork—don’tcryinfrontofNickStark,theonepersonwhoshouldbecrying
“Sorry.”Iblinkedfastandsaid,“Thatwasweird—Inevertalkaboutthatstuff.It’sprobablythelastthingyouneedtohearabouttoday,mypatheticallymundanefamilylife.”
“You’rewrong.”Heswallowed.“SomehowknowingI’mnottheonly,um…fuck…lonelyone?Yeah,somehowIthinkthathelps.”
Iforcedmymouthupintoasmile.“Soyou’rehappyI’mcrying.Suchadick.”
Thatmadehimgrinandsqueezemyhand.“Littlebit.”
Webothlaughed,andIsaid,“Iactuallydoknowwhatyoumean.Nothingmakesyoufeelalonequitelikethinkingyou’retheonlyonewhoisalone.”
Nicksmiledandsaid,“Tellmemoreaboutyou.It’sagooddistraction.”
Itoldhimamillionlittlestories,butheseemedfascinatedbyeachandeveryone.Hejokedandteased,butitwaswarmandsweetandeverythingmylonelyheartneeded.
“Yousociopathiclittledeviant,”helaughed,tuggingonapieceofmyhairafterItoldhimaboutmysecretboxoflifetimeconfessions.“Hazelwood’svaledictorianisnotatallwhatsheseems.”
“Fortherecord,Ihaven’taddedanyconfessionsinquitesometime,”Iclarified.
“Bullshit,”hecoughed,andwebothlaughed.
“Oh!Thisisagoodone,”Isaid.“AllIwantedformyninthbirthdaywasthispurpleunicorncakefromMiller’sBakery.Itwasmajestic,Nick,forreal.Ithadglitterinthefrosting,soitlookedlikeitwasdustedwithathousandtinydiamonds.EverySaturday,whenmygrandmatookmetogetdoughnuts,Iwouldgazeatthatglittery,beautifulcake.Iloveditforlikeayear,andIwanteditasmypresent.Notoys,noclothes;itwastheonlythingIwanted,andItalkedaboutitnonstop.”
“Soundslikeanuglycake,”heteased,hisfingersgentlyrubbingagainstmine.“Butcarryon.”
“SomybirthdaycomesandIambesidemyselfwithexcitement,right?Mymomandherboyfrienddrivemetotheroller-skatingrink,andIambouncingoffthewalls.Iskatewithmyfriendsforabit,andthenitcomestimeforthecake.”
“IfeellikeI’mgoingtohatethispart,”hesaid.
“Oh,absolutely.”Ismiledatthewarmthinhiseyesandsaid,“Becausemymomlooksatmydadandgoes,‘Tom?Cake…?’?”
Ishookmyheadatthememory.“Andhesays,‘Beth?Cake…?’?”
“No,”Nickgroaned.
“Yes.Sothentheymorphintotheirwholefake-smile-but-homicidalwayofconversing,arguingbecausesincethepartyisonmymom’sday,hethinksit’sherresponsibility.ButshethinkssinceIsawthecakewhenIwaswithhismother,it’shisresponsibility.”
“Meanwhileyou’rejusthearingtheword‘responsibility’andfeelinglikeapieceofshit,right?”
“Exactly.Like,iftheycaredaboutmeandmybirthday,shouldn’ttheyhavewantedmetohavethatpurpleunicorncake,nomatterwhat?”Irolledmyeyes.“Thentheysaid‘Ohwell’andjuststuckabunchofcandlesinthepepperonipizzathatkidshadalreadystartedstealingpiecesfrom.”
“Therewasnocakeatall?”hesaid,lookingoutraged.
“Nope.”Ikindofwantedtolaughathowoffendedhelooked.“DidyouandEriceverhaveanycheesyroller-skatingbirthdayparties?”
“Hellno—wewentwithlasertag.”
“Studs.”
Hestartedtalkingabouthisbrother,sharingmemoriesthatmadehisvoicecrackwhilehiseyessmiled,andIcouldn’tgetenough.Hetoldstoryafterstoryofthetwoofthem,runningaroundafterEricmoveddowntown,doingobnoxiousthingsandtextingeachotherimmaturememes.Iwascryingagain,butthistimeitwasbecauseIwaslaughingsohard.
“So.”Isatupstraighter.“IsyourtattooaboutEric?”
“Yeah.”Helookeddownatmy—his—jacketandputhishandsonthefront,pullingthetoptogetheralittlemore.Itwasanurturinggesturethatmademewarmerthanthecoatitself.“It’stheexactmatchofwhathehad.”
“Exactly?”
“Yep.”
“That’sactuallyreallycool.DidDantedoit?”
“Yep.HedidEric’s,andthenhedidmine.”
“CanIseeit?”
Hesmiledadirtysmile.“I’dhavetotakeoffmyshirt.”
“Oh,well,I’msureyoudon’twantto,”Iteased,pretendingmycheeksweren’tsuddenlyonfire.“You’reprobablyashamedofyourmarshmallowbody,anyway.”
Hiseyescrinkled.“Youreallywanttoseemychest,don’tyou,Hornby.”
“Don’tflatteryourself.”Igesturedtomyforearmandsaid,“I’mjustsuperintotattoos.Obviously.”
“Yes,that’sright,youbadass.”
“Justforgetit.”Irolledmyeyesdramaticallyandsaid,“Idon’twanttoseeitanymore.”
Hegavemeagrinandstood.Hehadthatornery-little-boylookinhiseyes—theoneIimaginedhe’dworneverytimehescrewedaroundwithhisolderbrother—ashetookoffhiscoatanddroppeditonthebench.
“It’sfreezing,Nick—maybe—”
“IfEmilieHornbywantsyoutoshowheryourtattoo,”hesaid,casuallypullingthebackofhissweateroverhisheadlikehewaschangingaloneinhisroomanditwasn’tfreakingfreezingoutsideinthemiddleofthecity,“youshowher.”
Igotup,laughingashestoodtherewithhissweaterinhishand.
Steppingcloser,Iforcedmyeyestostaytrainedonhistattoo,whichwassomekindofCelticpatternthatwounduphisbicepandtwistedaroundhisshoulder.
Isetmyfingersonhisskinandletthemglideovertheinkedlines,myeyesneverdaringtolookupathim.Hewasallleanmusclesundertightskin,anditfeltmorelikewewerealoneinthedarkthanexposedontheroofasmyhandsmovedoverhim.
Hegroaned.“Okay—stop.Thiswasaterribleidea.”
Ilookedupathisfaceandhiseyeswerehot.Imanagedtonodandtakebackmyhands,andIwatchedasheputhissweaterbackon,andthenhisjacket.IstartedtowonderifIshouldfeelawkwardforfeelinghimupashezippedhiscoat,butthenhesaid,“Igottahandittoyou,Hornby—theDONCwasonehellofagoodidea.”
Thatdissolvedanytensionthatmight’vebeenbuilding,andIgrinned.Isaid,“Okay.Ihaveanideaofwhatwecandonext,andit’seithergreatorterrible.”
“Soprobablyterrible.”
“Probably.”Itookafewstepsawayfromhim,pacingasItriedpitchingitinawaythatwouldmakehimseeitsmerit.“Butsinceit’stheone-yearanniversaryofEric’sdeathandhe’sobviouslyonyourmind,whatifwe,like,payhimtribute?”
“Emilie.”
“No—hearmeout.”Ikeptwalking,takingstepsbackandforthtokeepwarm.“Itsoundslikeyouguysalwayshadablastinthecity,likeitwasthesettingforalotofyourbestmemories.So,whatifwerevisitsomeofthoseactivities?”
Heopenedhismouthtospeak,butIranoverandsetmyhandontopofit.“Letmefinish,Stark.”
Hetiltedhisheadandhiseyescrinkledatthecorners,soIletgoandstartedwalkingagain,happythathewassmirking.AnytimethatIcouldberesponsibleforthatlookonhisface,Iwasthrilled.“Whatifwe,um,zipthescootersovertotheJoslynlikeyouguysdidontheFourthofJuly?Ormaybewecouldridebikestotheparkandgodownthebigslides.Feedtheducksthewayyouguysdidwhenyourmombroughtyoudownhereingradeschool.Idon’twanttooverstep,butit’dbekindofcoolifyouwereabletofeellikeEricissomehowwithusontheDONC.”
“Hornby.”
“Pleasedon’tbemadthatI’mbuttingmy—”
“Emilie.”
“—nosein.Ijustwant—”
“FortheloveofGod,Em,stoptalking.”Hesteppedovertome,grinning,andputhishandovermymouth.“Ifyoudon’tshutup,Ican’ttellyouthatIthinkit’sagreatidea.Christ.”
Ilookedupathim,givingmeteasingeyesfromsuchcloseproximity,andIrealizedthatIwasactuallyfeelingkindofbigthingsforhim.Imean,yes,wehadn’tknowneachotherlong,butIfeltlikeIknewmoreabouthimthansomanypeoplewhowereimportantpartsofmylife.
Ifeltlikeheknewme.
AndIrarelyfeltthatfromanyone.
Heliftedhishandfrommyfaceandsaid,“Shallweembarkuponthenextpartofourjourney,then?”CONFESSION#16
WhenIwaslittleandmymothermademeapologize,Isilentlyadded,“…thoughIreallyamnot”totheendofeverysingleapology.
“Sothat’swhyyoudon’tdate?”IstoppedchewingmypizzaandgaveNickthemostscrewed-upfaceIcouldcomeupwith.“Youdon’thavetimeforit?”
Itwasstartingtogetdarkoutside,soNickandIhadwanderedintoZio’sPizzaforafewslicestofillourbelliesandwarmusup.Afterhangingontherooftop,we’driddenscooterstotheJoslynMuseum(NickstillhadEric’sadmincodefromhisbriefstintworkingasa“scooter-jockey,”sohe’dbeenabletooverridetheBluetoothsowecouldleavethezone),wherehe’dtaughtmefivethingsI’dneverknownaboutVanGoghaswe’dexploredtheartmuseum.
SomepeopletheorizethattheartistGauguinwasactuallytheonewhocutVanGogh’searanditwasn’tself-inflictedatall.
VanGoghpaintedaportraitofhimselfwithabandagedearafterthecutting.
Heonlysoldonepaintinginhislifetime.
Heshothimselfinthechestinafieldwherehewaspainting,butmanagedtowalkbacktohishouseafterwardanddidn’tdieuntiltwodayslater.
Hislastwordswere“Thesadnesswilllastforever.”
Imight’vebeendepressed,becausethatwaswildlydepressinginformation,butthenNicktaughtmetwomorethingsaboutVanGoghthatwereobviouslyuntrueandmademefeelmuchbetter:
HisfriendsactuallycalledhimVan,andwhenhestuckaroundtoolongandbecameannoying,theytormentedhimwiththeircriesof,“Van,go!”
ThewomanwhoreceivedVanGogh’searsolditoneBayandmadesomuchmoneythatshestartedloppingoffherownbodypartsandsellingthem.OneofhertoeswentforamilliondollarssoshelivedhappilyeverafterandnamedallsevenofhersonsVinnie.
Afterthat,weditchedthescootersandrentedbikes,whichwerodeoversnowbanks(verydifficult)andthroughslushypuddles(verymessy)untilwereachedthebigslidesinthepark.Nickwiththegreatideasranintoaconveniencestoreandboughtwaxpapertoslideupon,soweshotdowntheslidessofastthatouronlyoptionhadbeentogetbigairandthenlandinahugedriftofsnow.
While,ofcourse,screamingatthetopofourlungs.
Afterthatwefedbirdseedtotheducks—Nickhadpurchasedthat,aswell—untilourtoesweretoofrozentodoanythingelseoutside.Iwasalittleafraidthataftersittingintheheatedpizzeriaforwelloveranhour,weweregoingtofreezetodeathwhenwefinallyhadtoleave.
“Don’tsayitlikethat—it’ssmart.”Hepickeduphissodawithonehandandpointedatmewiththeother.“Idon’thavetimeforalloftheemotionalbullshitapersonhastoputoutinordertomakeanotherpersonhappy.It’dbeworseifIdatedpeopleandthenjustpissedthemoffbybeingacold,distantasshole,wouldn’tit?”
Irolledmyeyesandsetdownmypizza.“There’sabackwardlogictowhatyou’resaying,Isuppose,butIreallythinkyou’reoverestimatingtheactualnumberofminutesrequiredtoemoteyourfeelingsproperly.Atextthatsays‘Ilovethesoundofyourlaugh’takes,like,fifteensecondstosend,andit’dmeaneverythingtosomeonewhoreallycaredaboutyou.”
Hesaid,“You’rebeingobtuseonpurpose.”
“No,you’rebeingobtuseonpurpose.Yourexcusesarevagueandovergeneralizedandquitefrankly—pathetic.”
“SoI’mpatheticnow.”HisfacewasseriousandintenseandIwasinfatuatedwiththewayheteased.
Inodded.“Littlebit.”
“Givemeyourcrust.Now.”
Hereachedoverandgrabbedmycrust.Iwasonmythirdpieceofpizza,andwe’dalreadyestablishedthatmyleast-favoritepartwashisfavorite,makinghimmycleanupcrew.Heliftedittowardhismouthandasked,“IsitsowrongthatIlikebeingsingle?”
“It’snot,butyoudon’t.”
Hetookabiteofthecrustandsaid,“Howdoyouknow?”
“BecauseIknow.”Iwasn’tbeingdelusional,convincingmyselfofwhatIwantedtobelieve.Iwasn’teventalkingaboutmeinthisscenario,tobehonest.Iwasabsolutelyjusttalkingabouthim.NickStarkwaswarmandfunnyandcaring,andhisfacelitupwhenhewaswithhisfriendsandrememberinghisbrother.
TheNickhewasforcinghimselftobeatschool,though,distantbecausehecouldn’tworkupthestrengthtotakeonanyadditionalemotionallifting,wasworkforhim.Ithinkhetrulybelievedthathappinesswaselusiveandfluidbecauseofwhat’dhappenedtoEric,andinsteadofreachingforitandriskingbeingshattered,hewasjustnolongerinterestedinreaching.
Forlove,orevenforfriendship.
“Well,letmeaskyouthis,then,”hesaid,grabbinganapkinfromthedispenserandwipinghishands.“Ifyouknow,howcomeyouthoughtyouweremadlyinlovewithsomeonethismorning,andnowyou‘forgotthatheexisted’?”
“Let’snottalkaboutthat,”Isaidinateasingvoice,butIreallydidn’twanttotalkaboutit.IwaswaymoreinterestedinNick.“Howaboutwemoveon.”
“Okay.But.”Henarrowedhiseyes.“First,tellmethethinghedoesthatworksonyourlastnerve.”
“OhmyLord,”Ilaughed,“Ithastobehisringtones.”
“Pleaseexplain.”
Iliftedmycupandpouredanicecubeintomymouthbeforesaying,“Hestillthinksringtonesarehilarious.Y’know,likewealldidinmiddleschool?Heactuallytakesthetimetosaveadifferentoneforeverysinglepersonheknows,andhefindsitfunnytosneakintomyphoneandaddthemwhenI’mnotpayingattention.”
“Hegetsinyourphone?”Heshookhishead.
“Idon’tcareaboutthat—Ihavenothingtohide.Butheassignedaneighinghorsetohisnameinmycontacts.Hethinksit’shilariousthateverytimehetexts,Ihearthesoundofastallion.”
“Whatatool,”Nicksaid.
Nicklookedalittlejealous,andIwantedhimtobe.Isaid,“Thefunnythingisthatitjustbugsme.Thesoundofthathorsemakesmewanttothrowmyphonethroughawindow.”
“Ibet.”
“Buthethoughthewasbeingnicebyaddingitforme.”Igrinnedandsaid,“Hebeamseverytimehehearsthatstupidwhinny.”
“Soyoupretendtoloveit?”heasked.
Ijustnodded,whichmadehimmakeafaceandshakehisheadlikeIwaspathetic.
“Canwestoptalkingaboutrelationshipsnow?”Hepushedhisplateandcupintothecenterofthetablebeforecheckinghisphone.“Weshouldprobablyheadbacktothetruck,actually.”
Afterwebundledbackupandwentoutside,Nickgavemeanotherpiggybackride.Icouldn’tstoplaughingashedecideditwouldbefunnytoloudlyhum“ourthememusic,”whichsoundedalotlikethe“ThongSong”eventhoughhedeniedit.MystomachhurtfromlaughingasIsnuggledmyfacedeepintothesideofhisneckforbodyheat.
“Jesus,yournoseiscold,”hesaid,soundinglikehisteethwereclosetochattering.
“Sorry,”Isaid,butIwasn’t.Ifull-onletmyfaceabsorbhiswarmth.
Hecoughedoutabreathylaugh.“I’mnotcomplaining.”
IrealizedthatNickwasincredible.HewasfunandbeautifulandI’dneverfeltmorecomfortablearoundaboy.Like,ever(exceptforChris).
Weird,right?
Becausethisno-holds-barredEmthatIwasbeingontheDONCwasn’tmeatall,somylovesickmusingsdidn’tevenmakesense.TherealEmilieHornbywouldnevergetthisclosetosomeoneshebarelyknewbeforetoday,sothispersonhewasseeingwasn’tactuallyrealatall.
Right?
Orwasthisactuallymaybesortofme…?
Aswewalkedbyanapartmentwiththeblindswide-open,wesawitatthesametime.OntheTVinthatstranger’slivingroom,RoseandJackwerestandingondeck,watchingsteeragepassengerskickaroundaballoficethathadfallenfromtheicebergtheshiphadhit.
Titanicwasplaying.
Nickdidn’tbelieveinfate,andneitherdidI,buthowweirdwasitthatTitanicwasplayingattheexactmomentwewerewalkingby?
“Wow,youweresoright,Hornby,”hesaidsarcastically,stoppinginfrontofthewindow.“Playingsoccerwithicebergchunks?Thatisobviouslythebest.Movie.Ever.”
“You’reaghoul,Stark,”Ireplied,climbingoffhisback.“Anabsoluteghoul.”
Westoodthereforaminute,justwatchingthemovieinthewindow,andwhenIglancedoverathim,Iwasterrifiedatthethoughtofgoinghome.Ofendingtheday.
He’dagreedtotakemetomydad’swhenweweredonesoIcouldsneakinandgrabakeytomygrandma’shouse(whereinhecouldmakefunoftheboy-bandpostersthatheknewadornedmybedroomwalls)andthenhewasgoingtodropmeatherplacewhereIcouldsleepinpeacewithnoparentalthirddegree.
Buthewasn’tgoingtorememberit.
Notanyofit.
Thedayhadbeenunbelievablywonderful,yetwhenIwokeuptomorrowmorning,itwouldn’thaveexistedforanyonebutme.Forsomereason,Ihadtoclearmythroatandblinkfasttorecoverfromtheemotionthatcamewiththerealization.
Helookedoveratme.“Youokay?”
ItriedtosoundlightasIsaid,“Idon’twanttheDONCtoend,NicholasStark.”
“Same.”Hesteppedcloser,sohisfacewasallIcouldsee,andhisvoicewentdeeperandquieter.“AndI’vethoughtaboutit,andIreallywantmyDONCtoincludekissingyou,Em.”
“Youdo?”Myvoicewasembarrassinglybreathy.
“Yes.”Heputhishandsonmywaist,oneoneachside,andleanedevencloser.Icouldfeelahintofhisbreathonmyearashesaid,“ButIdon’twanttoifyou’restilltiedupaboutSutton.”
MyvoicebarelyhadsoundwhenIsaid,“ImeantitwhenIsaidIforgotthatheexisted.”
“Soit’sokay,then?”
Onanormalday,Iprobablywould’vegivenhimashakyOkayormaybeevenaYes,please.ButitwastheDONC.ThesecondhalfoftheDONC,tobeexact.
Inoddedandinonemove,liftedontomytiptoes,putmyhandsonhischestandmymouthonhis.
Hislipswerewarm,andhekissedmelikehe’dbeendyingtokissmeforthewholeofhislife.Myfingerscurledintothesoftfabricofhisjacketasheopenedmymouthwithhis,makingmealittledizzywhilehewrappedhisarmsallthewayaroundmywaistandpulledmecloser.
Justlikethat,Icouldfeeleveryinchofhissolidbodyagainstmine,kneestochesttolips,anditmademeweakasIslidupmyhandsandgrabbedontohisshouldersforsupport.Itwasheady,headystuff,beingkissedbyNickStark.Hekissedmelikehewastryingtoprovesomething.
Everythingdisappearedexceptthefeelofhisstubbleagainstmyskin,hisfingersflexingonmyback.Hefinallyliftedhisheadandpushedapieceofmyhairbehindmyear.
Ifeltalmostshyaswelookedateachother.Iranmytongueovermybottomlipandsaid,“Don’tyouthinkit’sweirdthatbeforetoday—”
“Wedidn’treallyknoweachother,andnowitfeelslikewe’veknowneachotherforyears?”
Inodded.“Yes.Imean,it’skindof…”
“Bizarre?Forsure.”HiseyesmovedovermyfaceandIcouldfeelthevibrationofhisvoiceinhischestagainstmychestwhenhesaid,“Ididn’tknowyouthismorning,andnowIknowthefeelofyourhandinmine,thesoundofyourvoicewhenyou’retryingnottocry,andthetasteofyourmouth.Iknowthatyouhatepotatosaladandlovethatvideowiththecatthatdingsthedinnerbell.”
Igrinned,feelingsweptoffmyfeetbyhiswords.Isaid,“AndIknowthatthescaraboveyoureyebrowwasfromthetimeEricchasedyouintoaheatingvent;Iknowthatyouscreamobscenitieswhenacoolgirlisbeatingyouinascooterrace;andIknowthatyoukisswithteeth.Inagoodway.”
Hislipsturnedup.“It’sreallyonlybeenoneday?”
“Hardtobelieve.”Iwashappyhehadn’tsteppedback;Ilikedbeingpressedagainsthisbody,heldtherebyhisarms.Igrinnedupathimandsaid,“Ihaveaconfession,bytheway.”
“Letmeguess—youcheated.Youhadthoseanswerswrittenonyourhand.”
Iheldupmyhands.“Nope.”
“Then…”
“Then,um,IhavetoconfessthatIthinkI’mobsessedwithyou.Withthis.”Iswallowedandsaid,“Withus.”
Acreaseformedbetweenhiseyebrows.“Emilie.”
“Ohmygosh,don’truinit,Stark.Idon’tcareaboutanythingbuttoday,okay?”Irolledmyeyesandpokedhiminthechest.“I’mtalkingaboutbeingobsessedwithusontheDONC.I’mtalkingaboutbeingobsessedwiththedaywejusthad.Idon’tcareaboutthefuture,soquitlookinglikethat.”
Ileanedmyfacecloser,likeIwasgoinginforanotherkiss,butIreachedintohiscoatpocketinstead,andwrappedmyhandaroundhiskeys.
Hegroaned,andthesoundofhisdisappointmentmademefeelvictorious.
“LookslikeEmmie’sdrivinghome.”Ipulledthemoutandheldhiskeysovermyhead,givingthemaquickshakebeforeIturnedandstartedrunninginthedirectionofthelotwherewe’dleftBetty.
“Givemethekeys,Hornby,”hecalledcalmly,followingme,stillleisurelywalking.
IlookedovermyshoulderasIjogged.“Idon’tthinkso.I’mgoingtocruiseinBettyandyou’regoingtoridebitch.”
Hiseyebrowswentupandhesaidaroundalaugh,“Youbettergivemethekeys.”
“These?”Istartedgigglingandjingledthemagain.“Youwantthesekeys?”
Hisfacebrokeintoagrinandhesaid,“That’sit.”
Iscreamedandstartedrunningfaster,andIcouldhearhimsprintingbehindme.
“You’regonnaregretthis.”
“Idon’tthinkso—”
Hecaughtme,wrappinghisarmstightlyaroundmybodyandliftingmeofftheground.Iscreamed,andthenIscreamedagainwhenheloweredhisshoulder,liftedmehigher,andthenthrewmeoverhisshoulder.
“Nick!”Icouldn’tstoplaughing.“Putmedown!”
Heeasilygotthekeysfrommyhand,andthenheswattedmybackside.“Idon’tthinkso.”
“Comeon!”Icried,laughinghystericallyaswewalkedbyanoldercoupletakingtheirdogout.
“Notachance.”Hetightenedhisgriponmeandsaid,“Ifyoubehavelikeawildperson,younglady,I’mgoingtotreatyoulikeone.”
“Goodevening,”theparkingattendantsaidaswepassedtheticketbooth.
“Goodevening,”Nicksaidinaboomingvoice,asifhewerethefriendliestwoman-totingpersonontheplanet.
“Arewealmosttothecar?”Iasked,staringdownathisvery-perfectbutt.
“Icanseeher,”hesaid.
“Soputmedown—I’llbegood.”
“Ithinkthat’simpossibleforyou,”hesaid,butthenaminutelaterhesetmedownbesidehistruck.
“Thankyou,”Isaid,pushingbackmyhairandstraighteningmyshirt.“Fortheridetothecar.It’sactuallywhatIwantedwhenIstoleyourkeys.Walkingisforsuckers.”
Nick’sentirefacechangedintoasmileandheslowlyshookhisheadashelookeddownatme.“Ilikeknowingyou,EmilieHornby.”
Iswallowedandthoughtagainashegrinneddownatmethathewasn’tgoingtorememberthis.Anyofthis.Hewasgoingtowakeuptomorrowandnotknowmeagain.
IhatedthatsomuchthatIfeltapinchbehindmyeyes,butmanagedtosoundcasualwhenIsaid,“Same,NickStark.Ihadthebestdaywithyoutoday.”
Hisfacegrewserious,buthedidn’tsayanything.Themomentjusthungthere,strunginbetweenbothofourgazes.Hiseyesroamedovermycheeksandforeheadandchin,anditoccurredtomethatthetwoofuswereseeingthatmomentinentirelydifferentways.Iwasdesperatelyhopefulthathewouldrememberitallthenextday,andhewasmemorizingeverymomenttolookbackuponfondly.
BecausetheDONC,forhim,meantforgettingtodayoncethesuncameuptomorrow.
“Readytogohome?”heasked,hisvoicequietandalittlegruff.
Inodded,incapableofspeakingthroughthedisappointment.
“Em.Wakeup.”
“Hmm?”MyeyesflutteredopenandtherewasNick,smilingatmeasIawokefromthenapI’dapparentlyjusttakenwhilemyheadwasrestingonhisshoulder.
Thatface—damn.Helookedsweetandamusedandhot,andIreallywantedtogobacktosleep.Onhim.Forever.Hesaid,“We’reatyourdad’shouse.”
Ilookedthroughthewindshield,alittledisoriented,andwasrelievedwhenIrealizedhe’dparkedbythebackofmyhouse,insteadofinthedriveway.
“Oh.Yeah.”Pleasedon’tletmebedrooling.Isatupandreachedforthedoorhandle,alittlesleep-drunkfromthesmellofNickandthewarmthofhistruck.Isteppedout,andhewasrighttherebesidemeinthecolddarkness.
“Yousureyouwanttosneakin?”heasked,walkingbesidemeafterIclosedthedoorandheadedforthebackofthehousewheremywindowwas.“Seemsrisky.”
“It’snot.”Iopenedthegateandwentintothebackyard.Themoonwashighandbrightasourfeetcrunchedoverthesnow,andIwasalittlesurprisedhewascomingwithmeandnotwaitinginthewarmtruck.“Myroomisinthebasement,somydadandLisasleeptwofloorsaboveme.Andhesnoreslikeafreighttrain.”
“Spokenlikeacriminal,”hesaid,andmylaughmadeacloudinfrontofmyface.
Iunlockedthebasementdoorandpusheditopen,andIcouldfeelNick’swarmthashefollowedmeinside.Hedidn’tsayanythingasIopenedthedoortomybedroom,butassoonasIcloseditbehindusandwefeltalittlesafefromgettingcaught,hefull-ongrinnedinthedark—thankGodforthebrightmoonlightshiningthroughthewindow—andwhispered,“Youareasociopath.”
Ifollowedhisgazetomybookshelves,whichwerecolor-codedwithoutasinglebookoutofplace,andIhadtoadmitthatmyroomlookedalittle…sterile.Evenwithoutthelightson.IjustshruggedandsmiledasIopenedmynightstanddrawerandgrabbedthekeys.
“Isthat…?”Hepointedtomyclosetwithhiseyebrowsraised.“Thecloset?Wheretheinfamousconfessionboxlives?”
Somethingaboutthefactthatherememberedmademyheartflutter.IfeltlikeNicksawme—sawallofme—anditcausedawarmpinchinmychest.Inodded,givinghimanembarrassedsmile,andthenIsaid,“Wannasee?”
“Stoptryingtogetmetoplay‘fiveminutesinthecloset’withyou,”hewhispered,hiseyesplayful.“AndofcourseIwanttosee.”
Iopenedthedoor,flippedonthelight,andpointed.
Hesteppedinsidethewalk-incloset,andIwentinbehindhim.MymindimmediatelyracedtointimateplacesasIquietlyclosedthedoor;wewereso,soalonetogetherinthequietofmybasementbedroomcloset.Thankfully,beforeIcouldoverthinktoomuchanddieofaheartattack,hegavemeanopen-mouthedgrinofsurpriseandsaid,“Wow,yourclosetiscolor-coded,too.Areyouadeviant?”
“No,Ijustliketoknowwhereeverythingis,andthissystemmakesitsimple.”
Hewhispered,“Imightbealittleafraidofyourightnow.”
“Thenmaybeweshouldn’tpullouttheconfessionbox.”
“Pleaseshowme.”Hecrisscrossedhishandoverhischestandsaid,“I’llbegood.”
AquietgiggleescapedasIreachedbehindhimfortheshoebox.HepokedmeintheribsasIstoodonmytiptoes,andIwassoticklishthatInearlyfellontopofhimasIgrabbedit.Iheardhisdeep,quietchuckleinmyear—hewassoclose—anditoccurredtomethatmyclosetwasareallyniceplacetobe.
Especiallywhenhesaidintomyneck,“Yourperfumeismakingmedizzy,sweartoGod.Weneedtohurry.”
ThatmademebreathlessasIspunaroundandheldoutthebox.“Thisisit.”
Henarrowedhiseyes.“Justashoebox?Really?Ipicturedsomethingmuchmoreinteresting.”
“It’sundercover.Hidinginplainsight,andallthat.”
Hetooktheboxinonehandandsettheotherhandonthelid.“CanI…?”
Irolledmyeyesandnodded,nervoustoletsomeoneseeallthosepastvulnerabilitiesbutconfidentthatNickwassafetoshareitwith.
Heopeneditandpickedupapaperstrip.Readthewords,thenraisedhiseyestome.“Youthrewpotatoesinyourneighbor’spool?”
“TheywereoutoftownandIwasbored.IwantedtoseeifIcouldmakeitintotheirpoolfromourdeck.”
“And?”HewaslookingatmelikeIwasabouttoconfesstomurder.
“AndIdid.Chuckedfifteenspudsinarow.”
Hisgrinreturnedwithavengeance.“Didyougetcaught?”
“Nooneeverevensuspectedme.”
Hereachedintotheboxandgrabbedanotherstrip.HeimmediatelystartedcrackingupwhenhereaditandIhadtoshushhimasIlaughed,too,andwaitedtoseewhathe’dread.
Hewasstilllaughingasheasked,“YouhaveaperformancevideoonYouTubewithahundredthousandviews?”
Inoddedandbitmylip,tryingtoquietmygiggles.“Iwasinseventhgradeatthetime.It’snotundermynameandIwaswearingadisguise,soyou’llneverfindit.”
“Butyou’llshowme,right?”
“Maybesomeday.”Ishrugged,tryingtobelightandflirtybuttheawarenessofhisimpendingamnesiaaboutallofthisalmostmadeitimpossible.Isaid,“Youhavetoearnthatprivilege.”
“Isthatright?”
Thewayhesaidit,hisvoicequietandhiseyeshot,madebreathingdifficult.
Ijustnodded.
“Atleasttellmewhatsong.”Heputthestripbackintheboxandaskedaroundasmile,“Whatsongdidthelittlebookwormdeviantsing?”
Iclearedmythroatbeforewhispering,“?‘LoseYourself’byEminem.”
Hedidn’tevenblink.“You’rejoking.”
Iraisedmychinandmethisgaze,whichmadehimsmirkandshakehishead.
Wewentthroughafewmoreconfessions,buthadtostopwhenNickcrackedupuponlearningI’dusedmydad’screditcardtosendflowerstoJustinBieber’shotelroom,andwewereafraidofwakingupmydad.AndjustasIwastuckingawaythebox,weheardfootstepsupstairsandwebothfroze.
Waited.
Whoeverwasupthereseemedtobepacing,orwalkingincircles,andfinallyafterafewminutesIwhispered,“Let’sjustgo.”
“Yousure?”hewhisperedback.
Ishrugged,rememberingitwastheDONC.TherehadbeentimesthatdaywhenallI’dbeenfocusedonwastheDayofNoConsequences,yetatothertimes,I’dforgottenaboutitentirely.
Butthebottomlinewasthattomorrowwouldn’tcount,sotonightwasallIhad.
Tonightwasmyeverything.
Hegrabbedmyhandandwemadeitoutofthehouseundetected.BythetimewegottoGrandmaMax’s,IwasgladI’dstoppedforthekeybecausethelightswereallofflikeshewasalreadyasleep.
NicklookeddownatmeundertheyellowyglowoftheporchlightasIstuckmykeysinthelock.Heopenedhismouthandgotout“Well”beforeIcovereditwithmyhandforthesecondtimethatday.Ifhewasnevergoingtorememberthis,IwasgoingtotellhimhowIfelt.
“Iloveyou,NickStark.”IblinkedfastandwassurprisedbyhowemotionalIfelt.MythroatwastightasIsaid,“Itwon’tcounttomorrowandit’llbelikeIneversaidit,butonthisValentine’sDay,Ifellinlovewithyou.”
Hisjawclenched,flexingandunflexing,andIwatchedhisthroatmoveasheswallowed.
Iwhispered,“Butonlyfortoday,Ipromise.Tomorrowit’sallgone.”
Helookedatmelikehewasfrustratedandconfusedandalsocompletelyintomeinspiteofhimself,andIfeltthegravitationalpullofhimleaningcloser.
Andthenhelookeddownathiswatch.Pressedabutton.
“Comeon,”hesaid,grabbingmyhandandleadingmeofftheporch.Hewasnearlyrunningashepulledmeovertothedarksideofmygrandma’shousewheretherewerenoporchorstreetlightsshining.Hisfeetcrunchinginthesnow,hewalkedtowardmeuntilmybackwasagainstthecoldsidingofthehouse.
Wewereface-to-face.Withashakybreath,Isaid,“Whatareyoudoing?”
“There’sonlysevenmoreminutes.”
Ifeltdizzyashelookeddownatmethroughthemostintensegaze.“So?”
Hisbodyleanedintomineashecuppedmycheeksandbreathedagainstmylips,“Youonlylovemeforsevenmoreminutes.”
Iraisedmyhandsandsetthemonhisjawline.Heloweredhisface,andIwhispered,“Let’smakeitagoodseven,then.”
Hecouldn’tknowthattomorrownoneofthiswillhavehappened,buthekissedmelikewehadsevenminutesbeforetheworldended.Ifelthisfingersonmybackandagainstmyskinastheyslippedundermysweater.ThiswasNickStark—thosewerehisconfidenthands—andmyheartwasabsolutelyhisatthatmoment.
Hisheartwaspoundingundermyfingers,andourbodiesstrainedagainsteachother.Andthen,intheblinkofaneye,itchanged.Ourkissdidn’tgetslower,butsuddenlyfeltdeeper.Ormaybethatwasjustme,becauseIwashyperawareofhowthismomentwoulddisappearwiththemorning,butthingsbecamerich,everymovementmeaningfulandinfusedwithemotion.
Nickkeptkissingmelightly,buthiseyesopened.Ifeltlight-headedaswewatchedeachother,hisblueeyesmakingmedizzywiththeirintensity.Hishandswerestillonmyback,buthisfingertipsweresoftlystrokingalongmyspine.Heliftedhismouththetiniestamountandwhisperedmynameagainstmylips,andthen—
“Dammit.”
Hesteppedbackandhishandsfelltohissides.Ittookmeasecondtohearthebeepingandunderstand.
Oursevenminuteswereover.
TheDONCwasdone.
Hescrubbedhishandsoverhischeeks,lookeddownatmyfacelikehewasdisoriented,andthenhesaid,“Christ.Idon’twantthis,Hornby.”
“What?”Iswallowedandshookmyhead.“Oh.Iknow.Itwasnothing.”
“Emilie!”Mygrandma’svoicerangoutfromthefrontyard.“Areyououthere?Yourkeysareinthedoorandthere’satruckinmydriveway.I’mcallingthecopsifIdon’thear—”
“I’mhere,Grandma,”Iyelled.NickandIputevenmorespacebetweenourselvesandstraightenedourclothes.
“Listen,Nick—”
“Comeon,beforeyourgrandmothercallsthecops,”hesaid,cuttingmeoff.Hegrabbedmyhand,leadingmearoundtothefrontyard.Ifollowed,stillprocessingwhathadhappened,andwhenwereachedtheporch,mygrandmalookedalittleferociousasshescowledatus.
“Grandma,thisisNickStark,”Isaid,hopingmylipsweren’tswollenfromthekissing.“Nick,thisismygrandmaMax.”
“Nicetomeetyou,”hesaid.
“Pleasegetoffmyporch,”shereplied.
Henoddedandsmiledlikeheappreciatedherbluntnessbeforehewalkedtohistruckanddroveaway.Ijuststoodthere,watching,asmymindreplayedeverylittlethingwe’ddoneonthatincredibleday.
“I’mgoingtokillyouinthemorning,dear,”mygrandmasaid,openingthedoorandsteppinginside.“ButIneedsomesleepfirst.”
Istayedontheporch,wishingthenightwouldneverend.“Iloveyou—g’night,Grandma.”
“G’nighttoyou,youlittlepainintheass.”
Itwasn’tuntilIwentinsideandslidoffmyshoesthatIrealizedIwasstillwearingNick’sjacket.CONFESSION#17
IwentthroughaphaseinsixthgradewhereIworethesameT-shirteveryday,justtoseeifanyonenoticed.Theydidn’t,soIgaveupaftersixteendaysinarow.
“Wakeup,Emilie!”
Mydad’svoicewokemeupwithastart.MyheartwaspoundingasIsquintedupintothebrightlightandtriedtoseehim.Hewasstandingbesidethebedwithhishandsonhiships,lookingfurious.Isaid,“Whattimeisit?”
“Thatisagreatquestion,Em.”Hisvoiceboomed.“Itisonefifteeninthemorning.”
“What?”Isatup,pushedmyhairoutofmyfaceandgrabbedmyglassesfromthenightstand.“What’swrong?”
“What’swrong?”Hisfacewasbeetredandhisvoicegotevenlouder.“What’swrongisthatmydaughternevercamehomelastnight.What’swrongisthatyouignoredmytextsandstayedoutwithouttellingmewhereyouwere.Wecalledallofyourfriendsandwerejustabouttocallthegoddamnpolicebecausewethoughtyoumightbedead!”
Wait.Onefifteen?“It’snotValentine’sDayanymore?”
Hehuffed.“Didyounothearmesayit’sonefifteen?Getyourstuffandlet’sgo.Now.”
“Thomas,youneedtosettledow—”
“No,Idon’t,Mom.Shedidn’tcomehomelastnightandIwasworriedsick.”Mydadliterallyspatthewordsatmygrandma,hisvoicelouderthanI’deverheardit.“Ishould’veknownshe’dbehere.”
Orinthebasementcloset—underyourfeetinyourhouse—withNickStark
“Oh,now,that’shelpful.”Mygrandmacrossedherarmsoverherchest.“Iassumedyouknewshewashere.Thepoorthingalwayscomesherebecauseshe’sinvisibletoyouandBeth.”
“Spareme.”Mydadturnedbacktome.“Getyourstuffandgetdressednow.”
Iscrambledoutofbed,grabbedmystuff,andranintothebathroom.Iclosedthedoorbehindmeandquietlydugmyphoneoutofmybag.
“Where’smycar?”Mydadyelledthroughthedoor.“Outonthestreetwhereitcangetdinged,I’massuming?”
“Um,notexactly.”Isetdownthephone,openedthedoor,andwishedtherewereawaytomakethisseemlessbad.IgnawedonmylipandlookedatmygrandmawhenIsaid,“Igotpulledoverforspeeding,andtheyimpoundedthecar.I’vegottheinformationabouthowtogetit—”
“Theyimpoundedthecar?”Okay,nowthatwastheloudestI’deverheardhisvoiceashestackedhishandsontopofhisheadandstaredatmeasifI’djustconfessedtomurder.“Howfastwereyougoing?”
Iswallowed.“Um—”
“Gochange,Emilie.”Mygrandmasteppedbetweenmeandmydadandstaredatmewithhugeeyes.“Now.”
Iclosedthedoorandletoutabreathasmygrandmaarguedwithmydadandledhimdownthestairs.IpickedupmyphoneoffthecounterandmyhandsshookasIpowereditonandwaitedforcalendarconfirmation.Because—um—wasitactuallythefifteenth?
IcouldfeelmyheartbeatinginmyneckastheapplelitupmyphonejustbeforeIsawmyhomescreen.
Holyshit.ItwasFebruary15.
IquicklychangedoutofthepajamapantsthatIkeptatmygrandma’sandpulledontheleatherpantsfromthedaybefore,absolutelyfreakingoutasrealityhitmesquareintheface.FlashesofthingsI’ddonethedaybeforestartedrushingoverme.
StealingthePorsche,tellingoffLallie,Lauren,andNicole,breakingupwithJoshviatheintercom,quittingmyjob,taggingtheaforementionedpeoplewhenIpostedapictureofmytattootosocialmedia…
Iwasgoingtobesick.
ThenIglanceddownatmyarm.Ohno.No,no,no.Ipulledbackthebandageandgasped.
Ihadamarveloustimeruiningeverything
DearGod,Ihadatattoo.Thatsaidthat
“OhmyGod.”Ilookedintothemirrorandstaredatmyownface.
WhathaveIdone?CONFESSION#18
I’vegottenthreeflattiresinthepastyear.AllthreewerebecauseIwasn’tpayingattentionanddrilledacurb.
“Yourmotherishere—that’sawesome.”
Wepulledintomydad’sdrivewayandIfeltqueasywhenIsawmymom’scar,parkedalittleoff-kilternexttothecurbasifshe’dsquealedontotheblockandsprintedtothehousefromhervehicle.
Inside,shewasstandinginthekitchenwithherarmscrossed,andthesecondweentered,herlongindexfingerpointeddirectlyatme.Herteethweregrittedandshesaid,“EmilieElizabeth,gogetwhateveryouneedfromyourroom.Youarecominghomewithme.Now!”
“ForGod’ssake,Beth,canyousettledownforaminute?”Mydaddumpedhiskeysonthecounterandlookedexhausted.Ifeltguiltyformakinghimworry,especiallysincehe’drefusedtotalktomeinthecar.
Theminutewe’dwalkedoutofmygrandma’sI’dmanagedtogetouttheword“I’m”beforehebarked,“Don’ttalktomerightnow,Em.”
I’dspenttherestofthethree-minutedrivethinkingofallthethingsI’ddoneontheDONC.ItseemedfuzzyafterthemultipleValentine’sDays,andIwasn’t100percentsureitallhadreallyandtrulyhappened.
Becauseitcouldn’tallhavehappened,right?Imean,repeatingdaysdidn’texistinreallife.Surelytherewassomeotherexplanation.Maybeit’dbeenadreamontopofadream,likeadreamaboutrepeatingdays.
“Areyoukiddingme?Settledown?”Mymom’seyeswerenarrowedandshewasreadytofight.ShewaswearingtartanplaidflannelRalphLaurenpajamas,andherhairwaspulledbackinatightponytail.Thefaintsmellofhermoisturizercreamwaftedacrossthekitchenandhitmewithaone-twopunchofnervousdreadandhomesicklonging.“Ihaveahardtimesettlingdownwhenyourlaxparentingledtoourdaughtermisbehavingatschoolandnotcominghomelastnight.”
“Shh.”Lisa,whowassittinginachairatthetable,movedherhandslikeshewaspattingtheairtoremindeveryonethattheboysweresleeping.
“Oh,comeon,youknowI’mnotalaxparent.”Mydadloweredhisvoiceanddraggedahandthroughhismessyhair.“Emilieisateenager.Teenagersmakestupiddecisionssometimes.Justbecauseshediddoesnotmeanthat—”
“Yes,itdoes!”
“Youguys—shhh!”Lisapointedupstairs,wherethetwinsslept.
“No,itgoddamndoesn’t,”hewhisper-yelled.“Iknowyou’reperfect,Beth,buttherestofus—includingourdaughter—arenot.Canyoujustbereasonable—”
“Don’tyoudarecallmeunreasonablewhenyoucouldn’tfindher!”
“Shhh!”
“Youshh,Lisa—Christ!”Mymomgaveuponvolumecontrolandbarkedatme,“Gogetyourthingsnow;tomorrow—today—ismyday,regardlessofthisbullshit.”
Iwasstilljuststandingrightinsidethedoor,paralyzedbytheirfighting.Iglancedatmydadandhegaveatersenod,soIranuptomyroom.IblinkedfastandtriednottocryasIjammedclothesintomybackpack;Iwaswaytoooldtocryaboutparentsfighting,right?
Itwasjustthatit’dbeenawhilesincethey’dhadabigfight.AndIhatedwhenIwasthecauseandtheytalkedaboutmelikeIwasn’tthere.LikeIwasanobjecttheywerearguingoverinsteadofthekidtheyweresupposedtolove.
Thankfully,IdiscoveredearlyonthatIhadthepowertoextinguishmanyoftheirEm-relateddisagreements.Bybendingoverbackwardtopleasewhicheveroneofthemwasaggressivelyupset,Iwasoftenabletocurtailthefight.
Mysuperpower,ifyouwill.
Unfortunately,thatwasn’tgoingtohelpme—atall.Notthistime.
Irandownthestairs,andthesecondIwalkedintothekitchenmymomsaid—
“Iwillbeatmylawyer’sthesecondhisofficeopens,Tom.I’mfilingtoamendourcustodyarrangementbecausethere’snowayinhellI’mlettinghervisityouinTexasafterthis.”
“Ihaven’tevenhadachancetotellher—”
“Good.”
“Beth.”Hisbreathhissedthroughhisteeth.“YouareoutofyourmindifyouthinkEmforgettingtotextmeisgroundsforanamendment.”
Fromupstairs,andthroughthemonitoronthekitchentable,Logan’ssleepywailrangout.Lisaglaredatbothofmyparentsforasecondbutthenswunghergazetome,accusingmeofonceagainscrewingeverythingupbeforeshestoodandmarchedupthestairs.
Logan’scrygotlouderthroughthemonitor,andthethreeofuskindofjuststaredatitforasecond,listening.
“Comeon,Emilie.”Mymomhadherkeysinherhand.“We’releaving.”
“Um.”Iclearedmythroat.“I’llberightout.Ijustneedtograbonemorething.”
“Youhaveoneminute.”
Shewentoutthedoor,andIturnedtomydad.“I’lltalktoher.I’llmakeher—”
Heheldupahand.“Justgobeforeshecomesbackin.”
Iswallowed.“I’msorry,Dad.”
Hefinallylookedmeintheeyes,andtherewassomuchdisappointmentonhisfacethattearsblurredmyvision.Heswallowedandhismouthwassadwhenhesaid,“Youhavenoideawhatyoujustdid,kid.”
Assoonaswegottomymom’shouse,shelaunchedintoaforty-five-minutetiradeabouthowirresponsibleIwas.Apparentlyshewasn’tconcernedaboutherhusbandorpugglesleeping,becausesheyelledthehousedown.
ShetookmyphoneandtoldmeIwasmoregroundedthananyonehadeverbeen.Nofriends,nophone,nolibrary,nocar—Iwasessentiallyunderhousearrest.Icouldwalktoschoolandbackandthatwasit.
Shegroundedmefromreading.
Seriously.
“Iremovedallthebooksfromyourbedroom,anddon’teventhinkaboutcheckinganythingoutfromthelibrary.”She’dcrossedherarmsandlookeddisgustedbymewhenshesaid,“It’sabizarrethingforaparenttohavetodo,butIthinkyou’dbehappyinsolitaryconfinementifyouhadabooktoread.”
ShechangedtheWi-FipasswordsoIcouldn’tgoonlineatall,andshetoldmeshe’dcalledBoystowntogetallthedetailsonhowtosenda“troubled”childtolivethereforawhile.Iknewshewasjustblowingsmoke,butwhenmymomgotinarageyoujustneverknewwhatshe’ddo.
AndIcouldn’tblameherforbeingmad.Imean,Ihadcrashedatgrandma’swithouttellinganyone,makingthemfreakoutandworryandspendhourscallingeveryoneIknew.
Iwenttobed,butsleepwaselusive.Therewassomuchpingingaroundinmybrainthatthepowerbuttonwastotallystuckintheonposition.
Firstofall,Icouldn’tstopwonderingwhy.WhyhadIexperiencedthatcosmicanomaly,thatit-isn’t-possiblemovie-plotrepeatingofdays?BecauseasmuchasIwantedtosweepitundertherugasablip,therealitywasthatithadhappened.
Ithad.
Whetheritwasanalteredstateofconsciousness—likeadruginteractionorsomebizarrelylongdream—ortherealthing,IhadexperiencedmultipleValentine’sDays.
Iwasn’tdelusional.
So…why?
Itossedandturnedforawhile,butworryingoverwhathadcausedmybizarreexperiencewasultimatelyovershadowedbytheenormoussenseofimpendingdoom.Becausewitheverypassingminute,Irememberedsomethingelse—somethingawful—thatI’ddoneontheDONC.ThingsI’ddone,wordsI’dspoken,peopleI’dsurelypissedoff.
HowwasIgoingtogotoschoolinthemorning?
Wasthereawaytochangemyappearancesonoonewouldrecognizeme?CouldIswitchschoolsbeforetomorrowmorning?Iburiedmyfaceinmypillowandgroanedbecause,shortofaviolentaccident,therewasnowaymymotherwouldgivemeabreakonschool.
Andthatwasn’tanexaggeration.
Icouldbeprojectilevomitinginthemorningandshe’dtellmethatIshouldjustgrabaZiploctospewintoduringmyclasses.Everytimeyouhurl,Emilie,thinkabouthowyoucould’veavoidedthissituation.It’llbeagoodlesson
Therewasnowayofgettingoutofit.IwasgoingtohavetogotoschoolandbedestroyedbytheentirestudentbodyofHazelwoodHighSchool.Lauren,Lallie,andNicoleweregoingtoannihilatemeinsomesortofpublicspectacle,andnooneintheentireschoolwasfoolishenoughtojeopardizetheirownsocialstatusbygoingagainstthosegirlstosupportme.
Everyoneelsewouldpileontosavetheirownasses.Andwhocouldblamethem?
AndIhadnoideawhattoexpectwithNick.
Justthinkingabouthimonthesideofthehousemademelight-headed.It’dbeenaperfectdaywithhim,endingonaperfectlyhotseven-minutemake-out,buteverysecondofithadbeenframedwithaDONCexpirationdate.
Whatwasgoingtohappenthedayafter?Wouldhepretendit’dneverhappened,orwouldhebethesamewithmeashewasontheroofofhisbrother’soldapartmentbuilding?
Idon’tknowwhattimeIfinallyfellasleep,butatthreefifteenIwasstilllyingthere,rotatingbetweenswoonyrecollectionsofNickStarkandnightmarishimaginingsofwhatwasawaitingmeatschool.
WhenIwokeupatsix,Igotoutofbedandwentstraightdownstairswithoutconsultingmyplanner.Screwtheplanner.
Thehousewasquietanddeserted,andIimmediatelystartedpracticingmyargumentbecauseIhadtobebrave.AfterschoolIhadtofindawaytogetmymomtolisten.Iwantedmydadtoberightabouthernothavingenoughtowarrantanamendment,butmystomachclenchedasIworriedaboutwhattheydidn’tyetknow.
Wouldshehavegroundsifshefoundoutaboutmyreckless-drivingticket?
Icouldn’tbearthethoughtofnotbeingabletogotomydad’s;hishousefeltmorelikehomethanmymom’s.Evenifhemovedandleftmebehind,Iknewhe’dsendplaneticketssoIcouldvisitallthetime.Butifmymomconvincedthejudgethathewasabadinfluence,Godonlyknewhowoften—ifever—I’dbeabletoseehimuntilIwaseighteen.
Iunloadedthedishwasher,putinaloadoflaundry,andgotreadyforschool.I’dbelyingifIsaidIdidn’tspendextratimeonhairandmakeupthatmorning.IwantedNicktogivemethatlookwhenIwalkedintoChemistry,andifmascaraandlipglosscouldmakeithappen,Iwasallaboutit.
Unfortunately,Ididn’trealizeuntilitwastimetoleavethatsinceIdidn’thavemyphone,Icouldn’taskRoxaneorChrisforaride.Iwasgoingtohavetowalktoschool,andthatsoundedpositivelyawful.
Ilookedatthethermometeroutsideofthekitchenwindow.Thirteendegrees.
Awesome.CONFESSION#19
IalmostdrownedinthePlatteRiverlastsummeronadaywheremyparentshadn’tevennoticedIwasgone.ThankGodRoxwasagoodswimmer.
ThesecondIwalkedthroughthefrontdoorofHazelwoodHigh,allhopeofnoonerememberingthepreviousdaydisappeared.
Iunzippedmycoatandpulledoffmyhatandgloves,frozentothecoreandmissingmyAstrovaninadesperateway.Iglancedattwopeoplestandingbytheoffice,tworandomgirlsIdidn’tknow,andtheywhisperedandwatchedmewalkby.
Infrontofmewasagroupoffourguys—theyweredressedlikeburnersbutIdidn’tactuallyknowthem—andtheyturnedaroundandallsmiledandchuckledatme,butinasupportiveway.LikeI’ddonesomethingfunnytheyapprovedof.
Myfacegotinstantlyhotandmyvisionfocusedsharplyonthefactthateveryonewaslookingatme.Like,every-freaking-one.Thatgirlbythesnackstore,thosedudesbythetrophycase,themathletesbythecounselor’soffice;everyeyeinthebuildingwasonme.
Ipretendednottonoticeandheadedforthesafetyofmylocker.
“Holycrap,Em,youaremyhero!”ChriscameupbehindmeandI’dneverbeensohappytoseehiminmyentirelife.“Iseriouslycannotbelieveyou.Eventhoughthetattooisover-the-topnutjob,thefactthatyouhadthegutstodoit—andtagJoshinyourpostaboutit—isblowingmymind.”
“Ican’tbelieveitmyself.”Ilookedaroundandnooneseemedtobepayingattentiontous,thankGod.Chriswasbeaming,whichmademeask,“SowhathappenedwithAlex?”
“Em—listentothis.Wehadtheperfectnight.Hecameover,anditfeltlikewe’dhungoutahundredtimes.Like,sochill,justtalkingandwatchingmovies.Andthen,”hesaid,loweringhisvoiceandglancingovermyshoulder,hiseyeswidewithwild-happiness,“whenIwalkedhimtohiscar,hepressedmeagainstthesideofthatsilverCRVandkissedmelike…like…”
“Likehewasstarvingandyouweretheonlythingthatcouldnourishhim?”
Hismouthdroppedopenandhesquealed.“ItsoundslikesomethingoutofTwilight,butyounailedit—that’sitexactly!”
“Shutup!”
“Icannot!”Hewasjumpingupanddownalittle,andIjoinedhiminhiscelebration,becausenothingwasbetterthanChrisfindinglove.Hedeservedallthemoviemoments.“Andhealreadytextedtotellmehecan’tstopthinkingaboutme.”
“Ofcoursehecan’t;youkisslikeadream.”
“Youwishyouknew.”
“Idon’tneedtowishwhenyou’vetoldmethat,like,ahundredtimes.”
“Ido,though.”Heleanedcloserandsaid,“It’smyspecialgift.”
“Weallhavespecialgifts.”
Herolledhiseyes.“Don’tquotePrettyWomanatmewhenI’mhavingmygreat-datefreak-out.”
“Carryon,then.”
“DidItellyouhe’sgoingwithmetoVillagePointeafterschooltoshopforjeans?”
Thatmademesnort.“Seriously?Imean,jeans-shoppingistheworst,right?”
“Focus,Em.Hewantstogo.”Hebeamedandlookedtotallylove-drunkwhenheasked,“IsittoosoonfortheL-word?”
Iloveyoutoday,Nick.Ishookmyheadandsaid,“Notatall.”
Helookedathisphoneandsaid,“I’vegottogo.”
“Hey,canIgetaridehome?”
“Ofcourse.”Hestartedwalkingawayandsaidoverhisshoulder,“Meetmeatmylockerafterschool.”
Imadeitthroughmyfirstfewclassesbypretendingnottonoticethattheeyesoftheworldwereuponme.IignoredeverythingandreplayedinmyheadthemomentswithNickthedaybefore,choosingtoconcentrateontheswooninsteadoftheactualdumpsterfireoftheday’sreality.Ioverheardpeoplesayingmynameinthehallsduringpassingperiods,butIpretendednottoasIcounteddowntheminutesuntilMr.Bong’sclass.
OnthewaytothirdhourIsawthosegirlswalkinginmydirection.Lalliewastalkingandtheothertwowerewalkingbesideher,listeningtowhatwascertaintobearivetingconversation.Thehallswerejam-packedwithstudentsbecauseitwasapassingperiod,anditfeltliketimewasmovinginslowmotionasLaurenturnedherheadandlookeddirectlyatme.
Ohno,theyweregoingtodestroyme
Ididwhatanyonewoulddoinmysituation.Iturnedtomyrightandpulledopenthedoortotheauditorium.Itwasmostlydarkinside,withjustacoupleofstagelightsshining,andIcrepttotherightasthedoorclosedbehindme.
Wouldtheyfollowmein?IheardthebellringasIrandownthelastrowoftheaterseatsandcrawledbehindthebigboxthattheyusedforpropsstorage.MyheartwaspoundingasIsquattedandwaited,andIwonderedifthiswasrock-bottom.
IheardafewrandomvoicesasIcrouchedbehindthecontainer—clearlytherewasamusicclassabouttostart—andmyheartpoundedasIliterallyhadnoideawhattodo.Crap,crap,crap.Thiswasnotnormalbehavior,right?Peopledidn’tjusthideduringthecourseoftheschoolday.
“Allright,allright,settledown,”Iheardsomeonesay,awomanwhosevoicesoundedveryteacher-yasitboomedthroughtheauditorium.“Iknowyou’reexcited,soifeveryone’sready,let’sjusttryitfromthetopandseewherewe’reat.”
Mysquattinglegsfeltwobblyasmusicstartedplayingoverthesoundsystem.Thenoisemademethinkitmightbesafetocomeoutandsneaktowardthedoor,butassoonasIpeekedaroundthecorner,IknewIwasscrewed.
Becauseatthatexactmoment,fifteenorsopopchoirstudentsonthestageburstinto“SummerNights”astheybeganrehearsing.EverysingleoneofthosesuperstarswouldseemeifIcameoutnow.
Dammit.
NotonlywasIgoingtogetintroubleforditchingtheclassIwassupposedtobein,butnowIwasgoingtohaveDannyandSandy’smeet-cutesongstuckinmyheadallday.
Isatdownbehindmyboxandgotcomfortable.
Asitturnedout,theyweren’ttoobad.TheirloudrenditionofthesongsfromGreasekindofmademeforgetmytrainwreckofalifeforalittlewhileasIhummedalong.“HopelesslyDevotedtoYou”wasstillkindofcatchy—whoknew?Whenthebellfinallyrangandtheauditoriumstartedemptyingenoughformetobeabletoleavemyhidingspotwithoutbeingnoticed,Istraightenedmycrampedlegsandhightaileditoutofthere.
Unfortunately,thesecondIopenedtheauditoriumdoorIranrightintoJosh.
“Gah!”Ijumpedback,mybodyfeelingthecollisionevenafterthesplit-secondbumppassed.
“Emilie.”Josh’snostrilsflaredandhiseyesmovedovermyfacebeforehesaid,“Whatwereyoudoingintheauditorium?”
“I,um—”
“Youknowwhat?Idon’tcare.”Hetouchedmyarmandsaid“C’mere”asheledmeovertotheenclaveofhallwaytrophycasesandawayfrompassingstudents.Hemovedclosertomeandaskedinaquiet-but-angryvoice,“Whatinthehellwasyesterday,Em?”
Iclearedmythroat.Whattosay?Um,Ididn’tknowthefifteenthwouldactuallyevercome?IsawyoukissingsomeonebutIdon’tevenknowanymoreifitwasrealornot?Yeah,likethatwasn’tbonkers.“Ithought—”
“Thingswerefinewithusinthemorningatmylocker,andthenyoujustwalkedawayfrommetogohumiliatemeovertheintercom?Andthenthetattoo?Whodoesthat?”
Hisfacewasalittleflushedandhelookedhurt.Sad,actually,ashelookedatmyfacelikehegenuinelyneededananswer.Itookadeepbreathandsaid,“Listen,Josh,Iknowitseems—”
“Likeyou’reanasshole?”
Wow.ThatwasthefirsttimethataguyI’dlovedhadevercalledmeaname,anditwasajarring,nastyfeeling.Isaid,“MaybeIwouldn’thaveactedlikeoneifyouweren’tstillinvolvedwithyourex.”
Hiseyeswidenedalittle,likehewassurprised.Butitwasn’tjustsurprisethatIsaw—therewassomethingelseashisheadtiltedthetiniestbit.AlmostasatisfactionthatIwasjealous…?Hesaid,“MacyandIarejust—”
“Justwhat?Friendswhokiss?”
Heblinked,aslowblinkthatsomehowmadehimlookprettyandaccentuatedhisridiculouslylongeyelashes.“Wedidn’tkiss.”
Itiltedmyhead.“Don’tlietome.”
“Ihavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout.”Hiseyebrowswereallscrunchedtogether.“YouthinkIkissedMacy?”
Man,hesurelookedlikehewastellingthetruth.“Didn’tyoutakeherwithyouonacoffeerunyesterday?”
Hiseyebrowsunscrunched.“Yeah…?”
“Youdidn’tshareamomentintheparkinglot?Inyourcar?”
Henarrowedhiseyesandopenedhismouthtospeakbutthencloseditagain.Swallowedbeforesaying,“I’lladmitthatthingsarealittle,um,complicatedwithMacy.ButIsweartoGod,Ididn’tkissher.”
“Really.”Ilookedathim,reallylooked,squintingmyeyestotrytofindmyhurt.ThefirstcoupleoftimesI’dseenhimkissher,it’dfeltlikemyinsideswerebeingtwisted.ButnowIlookedathimandjustsaw…aguy.Aguywhowasarelativelyattractivepersonbuthadabsolutelynoemotionalholdoverme.“Well,IguessIuncomplicateditforyou.Later,Sutton.”
IturnedawayfromhimandverynearlysprintedtoChemistry,headdown,desperatetoavoidmoreconversation.Ididn’twanttobedecimatedbythemeangirls,andIdidn’twanttobetalkedaboutlikeIwassomesortofurbanlegendforbeinganasshole.
Itookadeepbreathandwalkedintotheclassroom.Itdidn’tlooklikeNickwasthereyet,andIwasgladtohaveaminutetogetmyselftogetherbeforeseeinghim.Isatdownandgotoutmybook,morenervousthanI’dbeenallday.
BecauseIhadnoideawhattoexpect.
WouldNickbefunnyandwarmlikehe’dbeenthenightbefore?WouldhebethesurlylabpartnerI’dhadallyear?Washegoingtoaskmeout—andmaybekissmeagain—orwasheregrettingallofhischoicesfromyesterday?
MyheartwaspoundingasIwaitedforhimtoshowup.
Butwhenthebellrang,hestillwasn’tthere.Bongmarkedhimabsentandstartedtalkingaboutourupcomingprojectsasmybrainkickedintoparanoidhyperdrive.
Wherewashe?Washesick?Absent?Ditchingclass?
Andwasitbecauseofme?Imean,Iknew,logically,thatitwasn’tthecase,butmyinsecurehearthadabadfeelingaboutNickStark’sabsence.
Mr.Bongspokeforasolidfiveminutesbeforeheturnedhisattentiondirectlytome.
“Areyourecoveredfromyesterday’smisbehaviors,Ms.Hornby?”Bonglookeddownhisglassesatmyface.“I’massumingtheofficespokewithyouregardingpunishment?”
“Um,yes,”Isaid,dyingofmortification.
“Good.”Helookedbackattheclass.“We’vegotalottocover,solet’sgetrighttowork,folks.”
HestartedlecturingandIstartedtakingnotes,faceaflame,buttheburningballinthepitofmystomachdidn’tgoaway.Itgotworsewitheverypassingminute.
WasNickavoidingme?
Twelvehoursagohe’dbeenkissingme,butnowhewasnowheretobefound.
Therestofthedaywentbyinablur.Betweenmylackofsleep,Nick’sabsence,andthefactthatalleyeswereonmeallthetime,Iwasbasicallynumb.Iwentthroughthemotionsoftheafternoon,shufflingfromclasstoclassandtryingtobeinvisible,andwhenIfinallygothome,Iwentstraighttomyroomandshutthedoor.
Hopefully,Icouldavoidparentalconfrontation.Iknewmymomwasprobablychampingatthebittogivemealittlemorehell,butIdidn’thavetheenergy.
Apparentlymyclosed-doorplanworked—incrediblywell—becauseIstress-ateCheetosandwatchedrerunsofGilmoreGirlsuntilIfellsoundasleepinmyclothes.
Didn’ttalktomymotherorToddatall.
Didn’twakeupuntilthenextmorning,infact.
Assomeonewho’dalwaystakengreatprideinself-discipline,wakingupinthepreviousday’sclothingwithCheetoresidueonmyfingertipswasn’tagreatsign.Andyet,forsomereason,Ididn’thatethewayitfelt.
Itookadeepbreathandwalkedintotheclassroom.IcouldseethebackofNick’sheadashelookedatthebookonthetableinfrontofhim,andjustlikethat,Ihadastomachfullofbutterflies.
WhenIgottoourtable,hewastextinganddidn’tlookup.Isatdownandgotoutmybook.
Nicklookedupandoureyesmet,andallthememoriesoftheDONCcamerushingatme.
Hegavemeaclosed-mouthsmile,likehedidn’tknowme,andthenhewentbacktohisphone.
IfelttheheatfloodmycheeksandIsweartoGodIlosttheabilitytohearforasecond.
Ilookedathim,butNickwasstilljuststaringathisphone.
Whywouldn’thelookatme?
IopenedmymouthtotellhimIhadhisjacketinmylockerwhenBongwalkedinandsaid,“Putyourbooksaway—it’stesttime,kiddos.”
Ugh—I’dforgottenallaboutthetest.I’dforgottentostudy.Iputawaymystuffandmovedtotheothertable,buttheknotofdreadinmystomachkeptgrowing
Andithadnothingtodowithmylackofpreparation.Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Ididn’tgiveashitaboutmygrades.
AllIcaredaboutwasthefactthatNickwasignoringme.
Avoidingme.
Twodaysbefore,he’dbeenmakingoutwithmeinthedarkonthesideofmygrandma’shouse,butnowhecouldn’tevensmileorsayhiorjustacknowledgemyexistence?
Ispenttheentireclassperiodworkingonmytest,strugglingtokeepmythoughtsatbaywhileIgraspedforanswers.Whenthebellfinallyrang,Ipackedupmystuff,andwhenIgrabbedmybackpack,Nickwasalreadywalkingaway.Iwasn’tabouttobegorchasehimdown,butIdidwalkalittlefasterthanusual,desperatelyhopingtoseehimwaitingforme.
Hewasn’t.
Ispentthenexthourbeingsad,feelingabsolutelydestroyedbyhisrejection.
ButthenIrealizedsomething.
TheoldEmmightjustaccepthisbrush-offanddealwithit,buttheDONChadchangedme.Itmight’vebeenawildtimeandanabsolutelyridiculousday,butlivingmylifeformyselfhadfeltgood.I’dalwayslivedtopleaseeveryoneelse,butwhowouldeverdowhatIreallywanted,ifnotme?
ItfeltalittlebitlikefatewhenIwasabouttoenterthelibraryatlunchandNickcameouttheverysamedoor.Helookedseriousandinhisownheadanddidn’tevenseemeuntilIsaid,“Hey,you.”
IturnedaroundsoIwaswalkingbesidehiminhisdirection.“Sodidyougetdetention,too?”
Hiseyebrowswentdownjustalittle,likehewasprocessingmywordsandsuddenappearance,buthedidn’tsmile.Hesaid,“Notyet.”
“Lucky.”Ilightlybumpedintohisside.“I’mgoingtohavedetentionfortwoweeks,butabigpartofthatismyintercomthing.ApparentlyIusedtheA/Vequipmentto‘bullyanotherstudent.’Canyoubelievethat?”
“Yeah,um,wild.”Hestoppedwalking.“Listen,I’vegottogothatway.”Hepointeddownthehalltoourleft.“So,seeyoulater?”
“Sure,later,”Isaid,butashewalkedaway,Ipushedthroughpeopletocatchupwithhimagain.
“Nick!”
Helookedbackatmebutkeptmoving.“Yeah?”
“Areweokay?”
“Um…sure?”HiseyebrowswentdownandhelookedatmelikeIwasoutofmymind.“I’mkindofinahurry,soI’llseeyouinChemtomorrow.”
Peoplewentaroundme,bumpingandjostlingasIjuststoodthere,unmoving.Iwatcheduntilhisheaddisappearedinthecrowd,myheartbreakingintoathousandtinypieces.
“Anditdidn’thurt?”Roxwastalkingaboutmytattooasweexitedthesidedoorafterschool.“Man,mymomwouldkillmeifIdidwhatyoudid.”
“Imean,itdid,butitwasn’ttoobad.”IpicturedNickinthechairtomyleft,keepingmecompanywhileDantetattooedme.
“DidNickStarkholdyourhand?”sheteased,wagglinghereyebrows.
“Shutit,”Ijoked,butforsomereason,Ihadn’ttoldmytwobestfriendsabouteverythingthathappened.NoonebutNickandIcouldeverunderstandhowonedaycouldbesohuge;Iwouldn’thavebelieveditmyselfbeforeit’dhappened,andIwasn’treadytoopenitupfordiscussion.
“She’ssomumaboutthewholething.”Chrisputonhissunglassesandsaid,“Partofmethinkssomethingmajorhappened.”
Irolledmyeyesbutcouldn’tfindasmile.“NoteveryonehasaperfectValentine’sDaywithahottie,Chris.”
Roxsaidtome,“CanyoubelievehekissedAlex?”
Chrissaid,“Itwaslikemovie-levelshit.”
IwasjealousofChris’slovehangoverasIsaid,“Soromantic.”
“Shotgun.”RoxopenedthefrontdoorofChris’scarandgotin,andIwasabouttopileinthebackwhenIheardChrissay,“LookslikeEm’stattoobuddyishavingcarproblems.”
Istoppedandturnedaround.ThehoodtoNick’struckwasupandhewasleaningoverthesidewithacanofstarterfluidinhishand.
“Screwthis.”
“What?”Chrislookedatmeoverhisshades.
“Oh—Ididn’tmeantosaythatoutloud.”Iblinked.“ButIdeserveaconversation,atleast.”
“Em.Um,what?”
ChrisandRoxexchangedanis-she-okaylookwhileIunzippedmybackpack,pulledoutNick’sbigjacket,thendroppedthebagontotheground.“I’llberightback.”
IwalkedovertoNick’struck.“Needmetogetinandturnherover?”
Helookedup.Swallowed.Said,“Nah,I’mgood,butthanks.”
Irolledmyeyes.“ButifIstartitwhileyouhooshitwithfluid,isn’tthatwayeasier?”
“Igotit,Emilie.”Hisvoicewasclipped,likewhenI’daskedhimabouthisfamilyafterthecoffeeshop.
“Whyareyouactinglikethis?Areyoumadatmeorsomething?”
Hesighedandshookhisheadwithpursedlips.“No.It’sjust—Imean,ItoldyoutheothernightthatIdon’thavetimeforthis.”
“Forwhat?I’mnotaskingyouforanything.Iofferedtohelpwithyour—”
“Emilie.”Hebitoutmyname.“Itwasreallyfun.Itwas.Afunday.Butit’sadifferentdaynow,okay?”
Iclosedmymouth,mortified.Iwasabouttowalkaway,butthenIchangedmymindandsaid,“SoIhadanepiphanytheothernight,afterbothofmyparentsscreamedatme,groundedme,andvowedtofighttothedeathincourtoverwhoIshouldlivewith.Doyouknowwhatitwas?”
“Idon’t—”
“Itwasthatnomatterhowitturnsout—goodorbad—I’mgoingtostartlivingformeandwhatIwant,insteadofforotherpeopleandwhatIthinktheywantmetodo.BecauseifIdon’t,whowill?”
Hestraightenedandputhishandsinthepocketsofhiscoat,hisfaceunreadable.
“Thatday,withyou,wasincredible.Iknowyoudon’t‘havetime’orwantarelationship,andI’mcoolwithwaitingorjustbeingfriends.ButtheDONCwas—”
“Afantasy,”Nicksaid.“Itwasamirage,Emilie.”
“So…what?You’regoingtoavoidhappinesscompletelybecauseitmightfloataway?”
Helookedatmeformomentbeforeheturnedawayandsaid,“I’mjustnotinterestedinyouthatway,okay?”
MybrainimmediatelywenttoImusthavemisunderstood—I’msosorry
Mymouthactuallyopenedtosayit.
ButIhadn’tmisunderstood.
AndIwasn’tsorry.
“Youcaninsistonthat,Nick,”Isaid,angryanddisappointedthathewouldratherbeadicktomethanbehonestwithhimself.“ButI’mnotimaginingwhatthatdaywas.Dayslikethatdon’thappen,Nick—theydon’t.Igetwhyyou’rescaredtoputyourselfoutthereafterEric,but—”
“Pleasedon’tbringmybrotherintothis.”
Ipressedmylipstogetherandlookedaway,frustrated.
Hedraggedahandoverthetopofhisheadandsaid,“Youdon’tknowshitaboutmybrother,andyou’reusingwhatItoldyoutoconvinceme—andyourself—thattherewasmoretoourskipdaythanthereactuallywas.I’msorrytobreakittoyou,Emilie,buttheDONCwasjustaplaydate.Adaywheretwopeopleblewoffschoolandscrewedarounddowntown.That’sit.”
“Um,okay,then.”Iblinkedbackbig,fattearsofhumiliation.
“Idon’twanttohurtyourfeelings,Em,butthat’sallitwa—”
“Gotit.”Ithrusthisjacketathimandwentbacktothecar,whereChrisandRoxweresittinginsidewiththewindowsdown,witnessingtheentiremortifyingrejection.Isqueezedintothefrontseat,andmyfriendsdidn’taskmeasinglequestion.Roxputherarmaroundme,andChrishandedmeoneoftheKleenexpoucheshealwayskeptinhiscenterconsole.
JustaplaydateCONFESSION#20
Insixthgrade,whenIding-dong-ditchedFinnParkeracrossthestreet,Ifelldownhisstepsandbrokemywrist.Tothisday,myparentsthinkIbrokeitroller-skating.
AfterIgothome,Ifinallyletmyselfcry.IfeltanachingemptinesswhereNickhadbeen,whichwasweirdwhenI’donlyeverknownhimonFebruary14.ButIfeltlikehesomehowsawme—allofme—andunderstoodme.Noneofitwouldevermakesense,butIfeltahugesenseoflossoverNick.
Iheardmymomcomehome,andIdidnotwanttodealwithheranger.Iwascertainshewasprobablystillpissed,especiallysinceI’dhiddeninmyroomlastnight,butIjustdidn’tfeelemotionallyequippedtodealwithanymoreconflict.
Istartedonmyhomework—Ididn’tknowwhatelsetodowithmyself—andmystomachdroppedwhenIheardheryell,“Em!Dinner!”
Itookadeepbreathandrandownstairs.Icouldsmellspaghettiandmeatballs—myfavoritemeal—butsomethingaboutthescentaddedtomymelancholy.Itbroughtbackmemoriesofspaghettiattheoldhouse,whenitwasjustmymom,mydad,andmeinthatoldyellowdiningroom.Thenitmademethinkofmealsinmydad’stinyapartment,whenit’djustbeenthetwoofus,anditbroughtbacksneakymemoriesofbothofthemfeedingmespaghettiandintroducingmetothenewlovesoftheirlives.
IknewNickhadmademesoftwhenspaghettiwasmakingmesad.
Isatdown,andIcouldfeelmymomlookingatme.Isteeledmyselfforalecture.
“Areyouokay,Emilie?”
Todd,mymom’shusband,wasnice,aharmlesssalesmanwhoalwaysseemedlikehehadanopiniontoshareoneverything,includingthingsthathadnothingtodowithhimandeverythingtodowithmeandmydad.
Sohisquestionmademenervous.
“I’mfine.”Ilookeddownatmyspaghettiandputmynapkinonmylap.“Why?”
“Youjustlook…”Hegesturedtowardmyfacewithhisfork.
“Likeshewasouttoolatetheothernight?”
Thanks,Mom
“Likeshe’ssad.”Toddtiltedhisheadandsaiditlikeitwasextremelyimpossible.“Likeshe’sbeencrying.Yousureyou’reokay,kid?”
Inodded.SomethingabouttheunexpectedconcerninhisvoicemademefeelmoreshatteredthanIalreadyfelt.
“Em?”Nowmymothertiltedherhead.“Everythingallright?”
Inoddedagain,butmyvisionblurredwithtears,myeyestoofulltokeepthemallinside.
“Emilie.”Mymomsoundedtrulybewilderedbythesightofmytears.“Honey?”
Theendearmentdidit.Icrumpledintoasobbingmessatthekitchentable,blubberingintomyspaghettiandmeatballswhilemybaby“brother,”Potassium,staredatmelikeI’dlostit.
“You’reshittingme.”
“I’mhere,aren’tI?”ItookasipofmyAmericanoandsaidtoRox,“Mymother,thewomanwhogaveawaymyguineapigwhenIwassevenbecauseIforgottocleanhiscage,actuallyungroundedme.”
“Aw,IforgotaboutDre.”
Isighed.“RIPtoDre,theguineapigmymothergavetotheFinklebaumsnextdoor,whoproceededtoimmediatelylosehimintheirbackyardtheverynextday.”
“So,Idon’tgetit.”Roxtookoffherglassesandlookedatthem,wipingsomethingoffoneofthelenses.Shewasoneofthosepeoplewholookedgoodinandoutofglasses.Herskinalwayslookedperfect,whethersheworemakeupornot,andshelookedgoodinanyhairstyle.SinceI’dknownhershe’dhadbraids,dreads,shorthair,longhair,blondhair,pinkhair,andanAfro,andshelookedgoodinthemall.
Iranafingeroverthelogoonthecupandwonderedifperhapsitwastimeformetochangemyhair,too.Allofasudden,myusualaestheticfeltwrongforme.
Roxsaid,“Youactuallydeservedtobegroundedthistime—nooffense—andnowshe’sbeinglenient?”
“Well,no.”Isatbackandfeltalittleshaky,still.“It’smorelikeshedecidedtobeahumanmom.IhadabawlingmeltdownatdinnerlastnightthatstartedbecauseofNickbutthenmorphedintothelatestsituationwithmyparents.”
“Whichis?”
Itoldheraboutmydad’spromotionandmyparents’fight.“ThegoodthingaboutmymeltdownwasthatIwasalreadysoblubberythatIblurtedoutmyhonestfeelingsaboutwhoIwanttolivewith.”
Sheasked,“Andthatis…?”
Igroaned.“Bothofthem.”
Butforonce,mymomhadactuallylistened.She’dhuggedmeandthenwecalledmydadonspeakerphone.Ididn’tknowifultimatelyitwouldchangeanything,buthe’dpromisedtotalktoLisaandexploreallpossibleoptions.
Andthatmatteredalot.
Roxsaid,“I’mgladithappened,then,becauseyouneededtotellthem.It’saboutdamntime.”
Iswirledthedrinkinmycupandsaid,“Agreed.”
ThepatheticpartwasthatI’dwantedtotellNickaboutit.He’dbeensoamazingwhenItoldhimaboutmyparentswhenwewereontherooftopdowntownthatmyheartthoughthewouldappreciateit.Imean,he’dhadempathetictearswhenI’dcriedaboutit,forGod’ssake.
Itwasjustaplaydate,Iremindedmyself,thememorystillstinging.
Roxlookedatherphone—probablyamessagefromTrey—andsaid,“DidChristellyouthatAlextookhimtodinneraftertheywentshoppinglastnight?”
“No.”Chris’sdreamylovestorywastheonlythinggettingmethroughallofthis.“Wasitgood?”
“Thatboycalledmeatonea.m.andtalkedforanhouraboutAlex.It’sthecutestthingI’veeverseen.”
IwatchedoverRox’sshoulderasthebaristayelled“Carl!”forthethirdtimeandIsaid,“Iwantthemtoneverbreakup.”
“HetoldmethatAlexsaidhedidn’twanttofreakhimout,buthethoughthewasalreadyinlovewithChris.”
“What?”Thatbroughtmyeyesbacktoher.“Seriously?Wow.”
Shenoddedandlookedcurious.“AreyouevergoingtotellmewhathappenedwithStarkonValentine’sDay?”
Ithoughtaboutitforasecond.“Um.BasicallywehadanamazingdaytogetherandnowhewantstopretendIdon’texist.”
Roxshookherhead.“Whatadick.”
“Yeah.Butthat’swhatmakesitsoshitty—he’snot.”
AndthenIdidwhatIpromisedmyselfIwasn’tgoingto.Isatthere,atourfavoriteStarbuckswindowtable,andtoldhereverything.Notabouttherepeatingdays—IwasprettysureIcouldnevertellanyoneaboutthose—buteverylittledetailaboutwhathappenedontheDONC.
WhenIwasdone,Idon’tknowwhatkindofreactionIexpected,butIwasmetwithherpityingface.Shetookadeepbreathandsaid,“Hetoldyoualldaythathedidn’twantanythingmorethanthatday,andwhatdoyoudo?Youassumehe’shurtorwounded.Afraidtoputhimselfoutthere.IloveyouandIthinkhe’saginormousprick,buthecalledhisshot,sweetie.”
“Yeah,but—”
“Andyougotyourphoneback,right?”Shegavemealookthatwas100percentarealitycheck.“Werethereanymessageswaitingforyoufromhim?Didheevenapologizeformakingyoucryafterschool?”
Myeyesitchedagain,becauseofcourseI’dcheckedthesecondmyphonehadbeengivenbacktomebymymother.“No.”
“No.”Sheliftedhercuptohermouthandsaid,“ButI’mglad.Nowyouknow,soyoucangetonwithitandnotlookback.”
Becauseshewasanamazingfriend,sheslidrightintolistingofffifteenreasonswhyhewasnotnearlygoodenoughforme,followedbytenamazingthingsshelovedaboutme.IwasstillsuperbummedaboutNick,butshe’dmadeitmarginallylessawful.
OnMonday,Iworejeans,aT-shirt,ChuckTaylors,myglasses,andamessybun.Iwasseriousaboutthewholeliving-for-myselfthing,andIdidn’tfeellikemakinganeffort.
Ididn’tevenknowwheremyplannerwas
Ibreezedthroughthefirstcoupleofhoursofschool,andthenbeforethirdperiod,IturnedacornerinthehallwayandwalkedrightintoLauren,Lallie,andNicole.Howweretheyalwaystogether?TheirgazesmetmineandIknewIwasdead.
“Youguys.”Itookadeepbreathandblurtedout,“I’msorryforbeingabitchlastweek.Ishouldn’thavefreaked,butIfeltbadforIslawhenyouweretalkingcraponher.”
Lallyblinkedandsaid,“Oh.”
Laurensaid,“WerewetalkingcraponIsla?”
AndNicolesaid,“It’swhatever.”
Shegavemethebrush-off,likeIwasn’tworthhertime,buttheydidn’tdestroyme.
Icouldn’tbelieveit.
Then,onthewaytomyfollowingclass,IsawJosh.Hespottedmefromtheothersideofthecommonsandheadedstraightforme.
“Em!”
Igraspedthebooksinmyhandandsaid,“Yeah?”
“Canyoutalkafterschool?”
“What?”
“Ineedtotalktoyou.Willyoumeetmeafterschool?”
“Um—”
“Please?”
“I—maybe.Letmethinkaboutit.”
Iwalkedaway,wonderingwhathecouldpossiblywanttotalkabout.AndIwasstillwonderingaboutitwhenIwenttoChemistry.Butthenanxietytookover,andIswalloweddownmynervousdreadandwenttomyspot.Nickwasalreadythere,butwebehavedthewaywealwayshad.
Likewedidn’tknoweachother.
IfelthimlookoveratmewhenIwasscrollingthroughmynewsfeed,butIjustkeptscrollinguntilmyphonewhinniedbecauseIgotatextfromJosh.IglanceduptomakesureMr.Bonghadn’theard,buthewasn’tevenintheroom.Iputitonvibrateandreadthemessage.
Josh:Hi.
Istaredatitforasecond.
Me:Hey.
Josh:Haveyoudecided?
Me:Decidedwhat?
Josh:Ifyou’lltalktome.
Me:NO.
Josh:No,youwon’t?
Me:No,Ihaven’tdecided.Honestly,whatdoyouwant?
Josh:Ouch.
“Tellmeyouaren’ttextingtheguywhocheatedonyou.”
IraisedmyeyesandNickwaslookingatme.Therewasannoyanceinhisvoicewhenhesaid,“You’resmarterthanthat.”
Iwantedtogooffonhim,butthenhe’dthinkIwasstillintohim.Icalmlysaid,“I’msorry,butIdon’tthinkit’sanyofyourbusiness.”
“Iknowit’snot.”Helooked…frustrated.Hescratchedhiseyebrowandsaid,“ButI’dhatetoseeyoutrustaguywho’sonlygoingtocheatagain.”
“Iwilltakethatunderadvisement,thankyou.”
Myphonevibratedonthetableatthatmoment,andI’dneverbeenhappiertoignoresomeoneandlookatmyphone.Ipickeditup.
Josh:Ineedtoexplainsomething.
IcouldfeelNick’sgazeonmeasIstartedtypingoutaresponse.Me:Let’sjustmovepasteverything.You’reforgiven.It’swaterunderthebridge.
Josh:Seriously?
Me:Yeah.
“Areyoudoingthisonpurpose?”
Ilookedathimoutofthecornerofmyeyes.“Doingwhat?”
“Textinghim.”
Ishookmyhead.“Firstofall,no.Believeitornot,Itextlotsofpeopleandithasnothingtodowithyou.Secondofall,Ican’tunderstandwhyyou’reinsertingyourselfinthissituation.”
“Ijustdon’twanttoseeyouget—”
“Hurt?”Ilookedhimsquareintheeyes.ItfeltlikemyheartskippedabeatwhenIsaid,“Youarethelastpersonwhocouldprotectmefromthat.”
Heswallowed.“That’snotfair.”
Hewaslookingatmewiththoseeyesandithurttolookathimatall.Iglanceddownatmyphoneandsaid,“Okay.”
Thankfully,Mr.Bongwalkedin,shuttingdownthechanceforanymorepainfullyawkwardconversation.ButIwasbotheredbyourexchangefortherestoftheclass.Becausehedidn’thavetherighttobejealouswhenhedidn’twantme.WhywouldhecareifIwastalkingtoJosh?
ItextedJosh:Canyougivemearidehomeafterschool?
Josh:Yougotit.
Whenclassended,IpackedupandleftasfastasIcould.Ineededtoforgetallaboutthesurlyone,evenifitwashardtofocuswhenthesmellofhisIrishSpringfounditswaytomyolfactorysensesandtormentedmewithmemoriesofthesevenminuteswewereinloveonthesideofmygrandma’shouse.
“Em!”
IheardChris’svoiceinthehall,andwhenIturnedaround,therehewas,walkingmywaywhileholdinghandswithAlex.
“Hey.”
“Yourlook?”Chrisraisedhiseyebrowsandsaid,“Didyouhavetocleanoutabasementbeforeschooltoday?”
Alexpressedhislipstogether,toopolitetolaughatChris’ssnark.
Isaid,“NewEmiliedidn’tfeellikeglammingituptoday.”
“NewEmiliedoesn’tlooklikeshe’severheardofglam,”hereplied.
“Whydon’tyouleavemealoneandfigureouthowtofixyourowncowlick?”
Hewasobsessedwiththeonetinyimperfectioninhisthick,curly,gorgeoushair.
“Oh,Godhelpus,”heteased.“NewEmilieisevil.”
“ThenewEmilie,”Alexsaid,grinningatme,“looksadorable.Justlikeyourcowlick.”
AlexandChrissharedaglancethatmademeenvious,soIrolledmyeyesandsaid,“You’regivingmecavitieswiththesweet.Knockitoff.”
Itookastepintheotherdirection,thenturnedbackandsaid,“Oh,yeah—Idon’tneedaridehome.”
“?’Kay,”hesaid,andIknewhewouldtextmenexthourtoseewhy.
Itonlytookfiveminutes.
Chris:Whoisdrivingyouhome?IsitStark?
Me:Josh.
Chris:Omigodwhatintheactual?
Me:Noidea.Saidhewantstotalktome.Can’thurttolisten,right?
Chris:Iguessnot.Butdon’tlethimbackin.
Me:Trustme—Iwon’t.
Afterschool,Joshwaswaitingformeatmylocker.Myheartdidn’tflutterwhenIsawhimthere;infact,myfirstthoughtwas,Doesheevenownapairofjeans?
“Hey.”Iopenedmylocker.“CareifIstopbytheofficeonthewayout?”
“Sure.”
IdroppedtoasquatandgrabbedmyChembookoutofthebottomofmylocker,addingittomyalreadybulgingbackpack.“Itshouldonlytakeasec.”
Istraightened,shutmylocker,andwestartedwalkingtowardtheoffice.Itshould’vefeltlikesomething,walkingwithhimaftertheturmoil,butIfeltreallydetachedfromthewholething.
“Whatdoyouhavetodoattheoffice?”heasked.
“Well,”Isaid,givinghimahalf-smile,“Ihavetoschedulemydetentionforbullyingyou.”
Hegavehisheadaconfusedshakeandsaid,“You’rekidding,right?”
“Nope.ApparentlyIviolatedthestudentbillofrightsanddiditovertheintercom.”IsmiledatMr.Bongaswepassedhimandhedidn’tsmileback.“AndthenIhavetopickupmydepositfortheNorthwesternsummerprogram.”
Helookedstunned.“Why?”
“Well,forstarters,IfoundoutthattheapplicationswerescoredincorrectlyandIdidn’tactuallygetaccepted.”
Helookedsuperstunned.“Forreal?”
“Forreal.”IgaveaheysmiletoagirlfrommyGovernmentclassasshewalkedby.“ButI’mactuallykindofglad.AfterIthoughtaboutitforawhile,IrealizedthatI’dreallyliketojustchilloutandrelaxthissummer.”
Hiseyebrowswentdown.“Relax?”
I’msurehecouldn’tfathomthatsentiment.Isaid,“Iknow—Icanhardlybelieveitmyself.
JoshwaitedoutsideoftheofficewhenIwentin,andthingswentfairlysmoothly,forwhatitwasworth.Iapologizedtotheprincipalandscheduledthedaysformydetention,whichhewassurprisinglycoolabout,andthenIpoppedovertoMr.Kessler’soffice.
Helookednervoustoseemeaftermyoutburstthedaybefore,butonceIapologizedandsaidIwasnolongerinterestedinjoiningtheprogram,heturnedintotheguywhowasonceagainwildlyenthusiasticaboutmyfutureplans.
WhenIcameoutoftheoffice,JoshwasstillstandingwhereI’dlefthim.
“Thanksforwaiting,”Isaid,hitchingupmybackpack.
“Yeah,”hereplied,givingmeaweirdlooklikehewastryingtofiguresomethingout.Hedidn’tsayanythingelseaswewalkedtohiscar,butassoonashestarteditandbuckledhisseatbelt,hesaid,“Sohere’sthething,Em.”
Iwasalittledistractedlookingathiscar,becausethelasttimeI’dbeeninthere,I’dbeenwedgedbetweenhimandMacyandmybootshadsmelledlikegarbage.
“ThereasonIwantedtotalkisbecauseIoweyouahugeapologyforMacy.”
Wow—thatwasn’twhatI’dexpected.Nodenial?Noblame?“Really?”
“Icareaboutyou,Em;you’reseriouslyoneofmyfavoritepeopleandIhatethatIhurtyou.SheaskedtogoalongonthecoffeerunandIknewshelikedme—Iwaswrongtotakeher.”
Ilookedathisfaceandfelt…unfazed.
“Butyouhavetobelievemethatnothinghappened.”
Ithoughtaboutwhathewassaying,andtheweirdthing?Igenuinelybelievedhim.EventhoughI’dseenhimkissheronothercosmicdays,Ibelievedhimthathehadn’tonthatday.Andreally,hewasn’tthekindofguywhocheated.
Thatbeingsaid,ifIstillwantedhim,hiswordsprobablywouldn’thavemattered.
Iwould’vebeentoohurttoforgivehim.
LikeI’dbeenonthefirstValentine’sDay.
Butnow—meh.
Hewasn’tfinishedexplaining,though.
Hesaid,“Idon’texpectyoutoforgiveme—Iwastotallyinthewrongandyouhaveeveryrighttohateme.ButIjustwantyoutoknowthatyou’reamazing.Iwastotallyhappywithyou.”
“Um.”Ididn’treallyknowwhattoevensaytothat.“Sorry.Ijust—I’mstunnedyou’rebeingsoniceaftertheintercomthing.”
Heglancedover.“Imean,Ididn’tlovethat,butIprobablyhaditcoming.”
“Wow,Sutton—yousoundsomature.”
Thatmadehimlookatmeagain,IthinkcheckingtomakesureIwasteasing.Whenhesawmygrin,hesmiled.“We’llcallitpersonalgrowth.”
“So.”Ituckedmyhairbehindmyearsasmybrainfilteredthroughinformation.“Yousaidit’scomplicated.AreyougoingtoaskMacyoutnow?Reconnectwithher?”
Hecrinkledhisnose.“Idoubtit.”
“What?”HewascrinklinghisnoseaboutMacy?“Imean,it’snoneofmybusiness,butwhynot?”
Hedownshiftedandglancedoveratme.“BesidesthefactthatIjustgotoutofarelationship?”
Igavehimaneyeroll.
“Well,”hesaidaroundasighasheturnedhiseyesbacktotheroad,“I’mjustnotreallyintoMacyanymore.”
Thatanswerirritatedme.“Butyoutwohavechemistry.”Isawit.MoretimesthanIwantedto.
“Wehavehistory.”
“That’sapointlessdistinction.”
“It’snot.”Heswallowed.“Imean,ofcourseitis.Butdoyouknowwhatpoppedintomyheadwhenwewerealoneinmycar?”
“?‘WWJD’?”
“Hilarious.”Hereachedoutandadjustedoneoftheheatvents.“Whatpoppedintomyhead,smart-ass,wastherealizationthatyou’veneverbeenlikethatwithme.”
“Likewhat?”
“Buzzing.”Heshookhishead,hiseyesstayingontheroad,andhesaid,“Nervous.I’vealwaysknownthatyoulikeme—asaperson—butI’veneverfeltlikeyouwereintome.”
Isquirmedalittleinmyseat.“Whatisthis,couples’therapy?AreyoufilingacomplaintthatIwasn’tattentiveenoughsoyouhadtogoelsewhere?”
“That’snotatallwhatI’msaying.”Heturnedontomystreetandsaid,“ItwasmorethatIhadthismomentwhereIwonderedifyou’deverbeenintomeatall.”
“That’snotfair,”Isaid,evenasIdoubted.
“I’mnotdirectingthisatyou,Em.MypointisthatIwondered,whenIwentbacktoclassafterthenear-kisswithMacyandtriedtofigureoutwhatinthehellhadjusthappened,whyweweredatingatall.”
Ilookeddownatmylap;Icouldn’tmeethiseyes.Thewords“becauseyouwereonmychecklist”hoveredonmylips,butIheldthemback.
Joshwastheperfectboyfriendformeonpaper:smart,motivated,andcharming.ButIdidn’trealizeuntilIwatchedhimkissMacythatthepaperdidn’talwaystranslate.
JoshwastheguythatthegirlIwantedtobeshouldwant.
MythroatfelttightasIthoughtabouthowwrongI’dbeen,howwrongIstillwas.Ifplanningdidn’trootouttruelove,andfatedidn’teither,wasitevenatangiblethingonecouldhopefor?
“Welikeeachothersomuch.”Heclearedhisthroatanddownshifted.“Wehavesincethebeginning—we’re,like,theperfectmatch.Andwehaveablasttogether.Butcanyouhonestlysaythatyouhavefeelingsforme?”
Iraisedmyeyestohisface,andhewasgivingmeapatientsmile.ButthenNick’sfacepoppedintomyhead,thefacethatweakenedmykneeseverytimehelookedatme.TheboyIhadinstigatedadowntownkisswith.
“That’swhatIthought.”Helookedatmeandslowlyshookhishead,butitwasn’tmean.Itwasalittlebitsweet,likeagazeoffondness.“Ithinktheideaofustogetherwassogoodthatwebothmight’veforcedit.”
ItookinthefactthatJoshknewhowIwasfeelingbeforeIdid.“Soyounever—”
“Ithinkyou’rehot,Em—don’tworry.”Likealways,hekindofunderstoodthewaymybrainworked.“Ijustthinkthatmaybewe’remeanttobethebestoffriends.”
“Stopsayingthingsthatmakeitsoundlikeyou’redumpingme.Remembertheintercom.”
“Oh,Iremember.”Hecoughedoutalaughandsaid,“I’llbeninety-fiveyearsoldatthehome,andI’llstillrememberyouslammingmeandtheBards.”
Thatmademelaugh.“Gah—isthisweird?Thateverythingfeelsjustascomfortable,eventhoughwearen’tathinganymore?”
Heshookhishead.“Itfeelsright,Ithink.”
“CanItortureyoualittle,though?”Icrossedmyarms.“Kindoflikemyownspecialgoodbyetous?”
Heslowedasacartriedmiserablytoparallelparkonthestreet.“I’mscaredbutokay.”
Ilookedoutthewindowatthelate-daywintersunandIsaid,“IgotyoutheCoachwatchbandforValentine’sDay.Ifwehadn’tbrokenup,you’dhaveastunningchocolateleatherbandonyourwrist.”
HeliftedhishandofftheshiftertocoverhisheartasifIhadmortallywoundedhim.“Youknowhowtodeliverquitethepartingblow.”
“Right?”Isaid,grinningathimashesmiledatme.
“Iknowthisisabsolutelyunheardofinreallife,butdoyouthinkwecanstillhangout?Andnot,like,justsayit?”Heswallowedandsaid,“BecauseIreallydon’twanttoloseyou.”
“Let’splayitbyear.”Ipulledoutmyphoneandcheckedformessages.Nothing.“ButIcouldtheoreticallycontinuetokickyourassatScrabbleifyoudon’tpissmeoff.”“Good.”Heturnedintomydriveway.“Becauseifyoudesertme,whowillcallmeoutonmycontrarianshit?”
“Ooh—Idoenjoydoingthat.”
Hegavealittlelaugh.“Thankyouforhearingmeout,bytheway.”
“Ditto.”Iopenedthedoor.“Thanksfortheride.”
“Anytime.Seriously.”
Igotoutandslammedthedoor,andwasalmosttotheporchwhenheyelled,“Em—wait.”
Ilookedbackandhiswindowwasdown.Hewaswavingmeover.Idroppedmybagandjoggedtohiswindow.“I’mnotgoingtokissyougoodbye,Sutton.”
“Ha,ha.”Heputthecarinreverseandlookedatmeintently.“So…what’sthedealwithyouandNickStark?”
Ifeltmyfaceflush.“?‘Deal’?”
“WhenIwaswaitingforyoutocomeoutoftheoffice,wehadalittletalk.”
Wait.“What?YoutalkedtoNick?”
Hisbrowneyeswerefullofhumorwhenhesaid,“Thesecondyouwentinsidetheoffice,hewalkeduptome.Honestly,helookedmadandhe’skindoftall,soIwasalittleintimidated.”
MylipsweretinglyandIfeltbreathless.“Whatdidhesay?”
“Hesaid,‘Idon’treallyknowyou,Josh’—andhetotallysaidmynamelikehethinksI’madouche.”
“Well,Imight’ve—”
“Ifigured.”Hegavemealookandsaid,“Butthenhegoes,‘Emilie’stoogoodforyou.Ifshetakesyouback,don’tscrewitupthistime.’?”
Icouldn’tbelievewhatIwashearing.“What?Hesaidthat?”
“Thethingis,andIcan’tbelieveI’msayingthis,theguyseemsreallyintoyou.”Joshrestedhiselbowontheopenwindowandsaid,“Soifyoulikehim—”
“Idon’t.”Ishookmyheadandfeltsicktomystomach.MybodywasallaflutteratthethoughtofNickpiningovermeorgivingashit,butitwasn’tenough.“Thanksfortellingmeallthat,butNicklikesmeenoughtowantmenotwithyou,butnotenoughtoactuallydosomethingaboutit.”
“Oh.”Helookedsurprised.“Well.”
“Yeah,”Isaid,tryingtoforcemylipsintoasmileasmyheartachedinsidemychest.
Thatmadehimgetoutofthecar.“Comehere.”
Joshwrappedhisarmsaroundmeandpulledmeclose.Itwasn’tacasualhug,butatight,all-encompassingembracethatfeltlikeagoodbyetous,toJoshandEmilie.Thesmellofhisfamiliarcolognecomfortedme,butinafriendway.
“Youokay?”hesaidintomyhair,andIjustnoddedandswallowed.
Somehow,overthecourseofmanyFebruaryfourteenths,oneDONC,andmultipledaysoffallout,everythinghadchanged.
Iwasemotional,yetagain,bythetimeIgotinside.Assomeonewhorarelygotfeelsy,itwasbeginningtogetridiculous.Ithrewmykeysonthetablejustinsidethedoor,butstoppedshortwhenIlookedtomyleftandsawthatmymomandToddwerealreadyhome.
“Hey.”Islippedoffmyshoes.“Howcomeyou’rehomealready?”
“Iwanttotalktoyou,”mymomsaid.“Sitdown,Em.”
Iwentintotheroomandsatdownontheloveseatacrossfromthem.“Timeforanimpromptufamilymeeting?”
Toddsaid,“Inaway.”
“YourdadandIhadlunchtoday,”mymomsaid,steeplingherfingerstogetherlikeshewasinaboardroom,notalivingroom.“Todiscussoursituation.”
IglancedatTodd,andhegavemeareassuringclosed-mouthsmile.
“HeisstilltakingthejobinHouston,buthiscompanyisallowinghimtoworkremotelyuntilAugust.Thatwayyoucanfinishyourjunioryear,andthendecideifyouwanttomovewithhimorstayhere.”
Iblinked.Didshemean—
“Aftermuchdiscussion,we’vedecidedthataslongasyourgradesstayupandyoustayoutoftrouble,youcanmakethecallonwhetheryouwanttofinishwithyourfriendsatHazelwood,orstartoverwithyourdadinTexas.”Shegavemeasmileandsaid,“Wewillrespectyourwishes,nohardfeelings.”
“Areyouserious?”
Mymomnoddedbutherbrowwaswrinkled,likeshewasunsureaboutthewholenicenessthing.IlookedatToddandhesmiled.
“Oh,thankyou!”Igotupandranovertomymom,hugginghereventhoughwedidn’treallydothatveryoften.IbreathedinChanelandhairsprayasIsaid,“Thankyousomuch!”
MymomsmiledwhenIpulledbackandshepushedmyhairoffmyface.“ItwasTodd’sidea,andyourdadwastheonewhohadtorenegotiatehisnewjob.”
“Still,”Isaid,myheartnearlyburstingwithlovefortheconfusingwomanwhomIbothlovedandwasterrifiedof,“Iknowhowharditisforyouto,um—”
“Givein?”Toddlaughedandsaid,“Yeah,she’sgrowing.”
Mymomsmiledathimlikehewasherwholeworld,andforonce,itdidn’tpissmeoff.ThenIhuggedhim,too,feelingguiltyforthethousandsofunkindthoughtsI’dhadabouthimovertheyears.
Maybehewasn’tsobadafterall.CONFESSION#21
Iknockeddownamailboxwithmycarlastmonthanddidn’tevenstop.
“Youguysareridiculous.”Ipushedthepileofballoonsintomylockerbeforeslammingitshut.“Thisishorrifying.”
“Horrifyinglyfantastic.”ChrislaughedandRoxstraightenedoneofthestreamersontheoutsideofmylocker.ItwasMarch4,mybirthday,andinsteadofbeingsubtle,they’ddecoratedmylockerandfilleditwithballoons.
Which,Ihadtoadmit,wasnice.I’dbeenbummedforthepastcoupleofweeks,butnowIwasabletomakeitthroughanentireperiodofChemistrywithoutlookingatNickStarkonce.
Iwasadamnhero.
Thingswerefeelingbetter,sothiscelebrationwaslikealittlepunctuationmarkonmylife’srefresh.I’dwornanadorablenewblack-and-whitedotteddressthatmademefeellikeAudreyHepburn,andtheruffledcardiganIpairedwithitmademefeelalittleTaylorSwift,aswell.
“I’vegottogettoclass,”Isaid,pullingmybagovermyshoulder.“Meetyouhereafterschool?”
“Yougotit,”Chrissaid,grinningatRoxliketheywerehilariousbeforewalkingawaywithher.
IhadLitafterthat,then—ugh—Chemistry.
Iwentstraighttomystool,pulledoutmybook,openedittothecorrectpage,andthenimmediatelystartedscrollingonmyphone.LikeI’ddoneeverydayforthelastcoupleofweeks.
I’djustopenedInstagramwhenNicksaid,“Emilie.”
Istoppedscrollingbutdidn’tlookup.“Yeah?”Didheneedapenorsomething?
“Happybirthday.”
Iraisedmyeyesandsaid,“Gee,thanks.”
Butinthathalf-secondbeforeIlookedbackatmyphone,mybrainarchivedhisseriousblueeyes,clenchedjaw,blackhoodie,andthegravelinhisdeepvoice.
“Isit—”
“Pleasedon’t.”Islow-blinkedandmanaged,“You’vesaidallyou’veneededtosay,okay?We’regood.”
Hedidn’tsayanything,butjustswallowedandgavemeanod.
Bongcameinandstartedlecturing,andIforcedmyselftoforgetaboutNickandthinkabouthowmuchfunIwasgoingtohavewithChris,Alex,Rox,andTreyafterschool.WeweregoingdowntownforabirthdaydinneratSpaghettiWorks—myfavoriterestaurant—followedbyicecreamatTedandWally’s.
Icouldn’twait.
Whenclassended,Igatheredmythingsandgotoutquickly,justincaseNicktriedtomakehimselffeelbetteragain.Thedaydraggedbysoslowly—probablybecauseIwasbeyondexcitedforittoend—buteventuallythefinalbellrang.
“Finally,”Isaid,smilingasIsawthemwaitingatmylocker.Alexwasquicklybecomingpartofourlittlefriendgroup,mostlybecauseheandChriswereinseparable,andIfeltluckythatwe’dfoundhim.
“Let’sgo,BirthdayGirl.”
Theyletmeselectallthesongsontheradioaswedrovethroughthestreets,whichwasmyfavoritethingintheworld.Wehadablastsingingatthetopofourlungs,butIswallowedhardwhenwegotdowntown.
Becausemyfavoriteplacewasnowstainedwithmemoriesofhim.
Ilookedoutmywindowandtherewasthebankbuilding,hoveringaboveuswiththevividrecollectionsofNickdoingtheawfulCupidShuffle,givingmeapiggybackride,almostkissingmeintheelevator,andracingmeupthestairs.
It’dbeenthebestday.
Iforcedmyselftoputthoseeventsoutofmyheadandfocusonfunwithmyfriends.
Werummagedthroughantiquestores,vinylshops,andexpensiveboutiquesbeforefinallygoingintotherestaurant.
“I’mstarving,”Isaid,breathingdeeplyasmyfavoritesmellsintheworldfoundtheirwaytomynose.
“You’realwaysstarvingwhencarbsareinvolved,”Chrissaid,andhewasn’twrong.Heactuallyattemptedtoeathealthyandhadalwaysbeendisgustedlyamusedbymyutterlackofcaring.
“Haveyoueverhadtheirchickenstrips?”Alexaskedaswefollowedthehostesstoatable.
“You’reinSpaghettiWorks,”Isaid,rollingmyeyesandmakingafaceathim.“Pleasedonotembarrassmeandorderchicken.”
“Iwouldn’ttesther,”Roxsaid,holdinghandswithTreyastheyfollowedbehindus.“She’sabsurdlyloyaltothisplace.”
“Noted,”Alexsaid.
Whenthehostessledustoabigtablethatoverlookedthesaladbarcar,Chrissaid,“I’msorry—canwegetawindowseat?”
Ilookedathimandsmiled,andhethrewonerightbackatme.ChrisandIusedtoplayagameatthewindowseats,wherewe’dguessthebackstoryofeverypersonwhowalkedby.Iwaskindoftouchedthathewasstillsentimentalaboutit.
“Noproblem,”shesaid,andgesturedtowardthetableinfrontofthebigbaywindowthatoverlookedthesidewalk.
“Thanks,”Isaid,andweallsatdownatthewindowtable.
Welostourselvesinlaughterandconversationafterthat.RoxandTreyandChris—and,asitturnedout,Alexaswell—werethefunniestpeopleIknew.Therewasnothingasfunashavingmultiplehourstojusthangwiththemwithoutthingslikejobs,homework,andboyfriendsgettingintheway.
Theymadefunofme—rightfullyso—whenIfinishedmysecondhelpingofspaghettibeforeAlexhadevenfinishedhisfirst,andIcackledwhenRoxandChrisgotsuperintothebackstorygame.
“Thecouplewalkingthedoghavebeentogetherforfifteenyears,butonlymarriedforone,”Chrissaid.“It’sbeentheirworstyear,andtheybothknowtheyruineditbytakingthosevows.”
“Dark,”Ilaughed.
“Right?”saidAlex.
“Shefinallycavedbecauseshecouldtellherannualrefusalshurthim,”Roxsaid,“butnowsheistheonehurting.Theybothwanttoendit,butneitherofthemcanworkuptheenergytosayit.”
“Heworkssixtyhoursaweekjusttoavoidgoinghome,”Treyadded.
“Actually,”Chrisadded,pointingtowardthedog,“thatdogistheirgluerightnow.Neitherofthemcanbearthethoughtofgivingupcustodyof…”
“Meatball.”
“Yes,Meatball,”Chrissaid,acknowledgingAlex’sadditionwithanodofthehead.“NeitherofthemcanbearlosingMeatball,sotheywalkthatbeasttogethereverynightafterdinner,eachofthemdreamingaboutbeinganywhereotherthanwheretheyare.”Itookasipofmysodaandsaid,“Youjusttookthegameandmadeitdepressing.Fixitwiththislady.”
Wealllookedoutthewindow,andatallwomaninajumpsuitandaberetwaswalkingby,talkingintoherphone.
Chrissaid,“ThisisClaire.Sheusedtobeamodel,butquitherjet-settinglifestyletocomehomeandtakecareofheruncleBilly.”
“Wholosthismemoryinamicrowaveovenaccident.”Alexbeamed,gettingintothegame.“NowhecanonlytalkaboutNASCARandthewomenfromTheView.”
Weallstartedlaughing.
Roxsaid,“Shetakescareofthatguyduringtheday,butatnightshelikestoputonhersupermodelclothesandsearchtheOldMarketformenwhomightbeinterestedintakingherswingdancing.”
“Doesthatmeansex?”
“Ofcourseitmeanssex.”Treyrolledhiseyesandadded,“Shedanceswiththem,andwhentheyfallasleep,shekillsthemandsellstheirorgansontheblackmarket.”
“Brutal.”
“Butlucrative.”
IgiggledandreachedforChris’sgarlicbread.“Okay,Alex—youdothisguy.”
Alexglancedatme,thenlookedoutthewindow.“Everyonewhoknowsthisguythinkshe’sajerkbecauseheneversmiles.”
Iglancedupfrommybreadandsawaguyinablackjacketwalkingbywithaboxunderhisarm.
“Buthe’sactuallyaniceguywhoiswrackedwithregretforbeingajerktosomeonehetrulycaresabout.”
Theguyglancedupatthewindowand—
ItwasNick.
“Hehadaperfectdaywiththeperfectgirl,”Roxsaid,“buthiscynicalheartrefusedtobelieveitcouldlast,sohepushedheraway.”
IlookedatRoxandcouldbarelyfindmyvoicetosay,“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Itwasn’tuntilhecleanedouthistruckandcouldstillsmellherperfumeonhisbrother’sjacket,”Treysaid,“thathewasalmostsuffocatedbyhowmuchhemissedher.”
“Whatisthis?”IsniffledandblinkedfastasNickstoppedwalkingandlookeddirectlyupatus.
Atme.
AlexcontinuedasifIhadn’tspoken.“Heknowshescreweduphischance,buthejustwantstogiveherapresentforherbirthday.Thenhe’llgo.”
Ilookeddownathisface,handsome,andtheonlyfaceintheworldthatmademewanttocry.AsIwatchedhim,heswallowedandgavemetheintensestarethatIcouldfeelfromthetopofmyheadtothetipsofmytoes.
Ishookmyheadandlookedawayfromthewindowandintothefacesofmyfriends.“Idon’tthinkmyheartcantakethisgameanymore.”
Chrissaid,“Justgohearhimout.”
Itookadeepbreath.ThenIstoodandwalkedacrosstherestaurantandovertothefrontdoor,throwingitopenandsteppingoutside.Iwasabouttowalkinthedirectionofwherewe’dseenhimthroughthewindowwhenIheard,“Em.”
Ilookedtomyrightandtherehewas,standingbesidethedoor,waitingforme.
Itwasn’tfairhowhandsomehewas.Hewasstillwearingtheblackhoodie,andIhatedhowthesightofhimnegatedeverylittlebitoffunI’dbeenhavingwithmyfriends.LookingatNickjustmademewanttogohomeandcry.
Icrossedmyarmsandsaid,“I’mtryingtohavedinnerwithmyfriends.Whatdoyouneed,Nick?”
Hegesturedwithhisheadformetofollowhimovertooneoftheoutdoorseatingtablesthatwasvacantbecauseitwastoocoldforanyonetoeatoutside.Irolledmyeyesandwalkedbehindhim,irritatedthathewassomehowmanagingtobebossyonmybirthday.
“Openit.”Hesettheboxonthetable,lookedatmewiththoseeyesthat’dhauntedmeinmydaydreams,andhesaid,“Please.”
Heseemedso…intense.Hisjawwasclenched,hiseyeslaser-focusedonme.ItookadeepbreathandtoldmyselfthatIdidn’tknowwhymystomachwasfullofbutterflies.Ireachedoutandpulledtheedgeoftheredribbonthatwastiedintoaperfectbow,butwhenIpulledthelidoffofthewhiteboxandlookedinside,Icouldn’tbelievewhatIwasseeing.
IglancedathimandtheonlywordIcouldcomeupwithwas,“How?”
HeshruggedasIputmyhandsintheboxandpulledoutthecake.
Thepurpleunicorncakewiththesparklyfrosting.
TheoneI’dwantedonmyninthbirthday.
Icouldn’tbelievemyeyesasIlifteditallthewayoutandsetitonthetable.Theshinygoldenhorn,theglitteryunicorn,thesparklypurplefrosting.ItsaidHappyBirthday,Em,thewayI’ddesperatelywantedittowhenIwasinthefourthgrade.
But…Nickhadneverseenthecakebefore.
“Howonearthdidyoudothis,Nick?”
Hegavealittleshrugofhisshoulders.“Igothelp.”
“You’regoingtohavetodobetterthanthat,”Isaid,puttingmyshakinghandsonmyhipsandtryingtofigureoutthisguywhomight’vejustgottenmethemostthoughtfulgiftI’deverreceived.
Hesaid,“Maxknowsthebakeryowner.”
“Max?”
“Yourgrandma.”
Mybrainwasn’tfiringfastenoughformetokeepup.Isquintedathimandsaid,“Mygrandmahelpedyou?”
Henodded.
“Um,asfarasI’maware,theonetimeyoumethersheaskedyoutogetoffherporch.”Isearchedhisfaceforananswer,buthismouthslidintohistinysmirk,theonethatmadehimlookpleasedwithhimselfbutnotquitefriendly.Isaid,“Pleaseexplainyourself,NickStark.”
“Iwentovertoyourgrandma’sandaskedwhatsheknewaboutthepurpleunicorncake.”Hiseyesmovedovermyface,makingmyheartpound,andhesaid,“Asitturnsout,she’sbeenhavingaflingwiththebakeryownerforyears,soshecalledhimandaskedhimtomakeoneforyou.”
Iblinked.“Mygrandma’sdatingOldManMiller?”
“Idon’tknowifit’stechnicallydatingsinceshesaidtheyjusthavesleepovers—”
“Ew.”
“Butthey’reclose.”
Istaredatthecake,unabletoslowdownmythoughts.Nickwentovertomygrandma’sjusttoseeifsheknewaboutthecake?
Imanagedtosay,“Ican’tbelieveyourememberedthecake.”
“Iremembereverythingaboutyou,Em.”
Thecrackinhisvoicebroughtmyeyesbacktohisface.
“Ido.”Hisvoicewasraspywhenhesaid,“Irememberthe‘ThongSong,’thebreathysoundofyourvoiceafterIkissyou,andthewayyoukissedmynosewhenyouthoughtIwassad.”
Atrainwhistleblewinthedistance,itssoundalmosthauntinginthecolddarkness.
“Imessedup,”hesaidashestareddownatme,“andI’veregrettediteveryminutesinceyouwalkedawayintheschoolparkinglot.”
Iswallowedandmyeyestraveledalloverhim,drinkingintheonepersonIhadn’tallowedmyselftoreallylookatsincehe’dbrokenmyheart.
“IfellinlovewithyouonValentine’sDay,Emilie,butIneedmorethanjustsevenminutes.”
“Youdo?”Warmthstartedslidingthrougheverymoleculeinsideofme.Iwantedtobeclosertohim,butfirstIhadtoask,“WhatabouteverythingyousaidafterValentine’sDay,though?Whataboutthemirage?”
Nickliftedhishandlikehewantedtotouchmyfacebutstoppedhimselfandsaid,“Youwereright.AboutmebeingstupidbecauseofEric.”
Icringed.“Ididn’tsaythat.”
“YouimpliedIwasholdingbackbecauseofhim,andit’scometomyattentionsincethenthatit’sprobablytrue.”
“Ithas?Really?”
“Yeah.”HemadeafacelikeIt’sallsodramaticandhesaid,“Asitturnsout,whenyourparentshaveayardsaleandyouloseyourever-lovingshitbecausethey’regivingawayyourdeadbrother’sbaseballhatthedayaftertheone-yearanniversary,youhaveissues.”
“Ohno.”Itakeasteptowardhim,reachingoutmyhandtotouchthesleeveofhishoodie.“Thatsucks.I’msorry.”
“It’sokay.”Heclearedhisthroatandsaid,“Believeitornot,I’mglad.I’veactuallystartedseeingatherapist.Idon’tknow,it’sreallyweird,talkingtoastranger,butalsokindoflikearelief.”
“Nick,that’ssogrea—”
“Stop.”Helookedatmeoutofthecornerofhiseyeandsaidaroundasmirk,“ThelastthingIwantisthegirlI’mobsessedwithtotellmeshe’sproudofmeforgoingtotherapy.I’vegotamotherforthat,thankyou.”
Thatmademelaugh.“Iknewyouwereobsessed.”
“Yes,EmilieHornby,I’mheretotellyouthatI’malittleobsessedwithyou.Withthis.”Heraisedhishandsandcuppedmyface.“Withus.”Hiseyescrinkledatthecornersandhismouthslidintothefull-onsmilethatmademeweakintheknees.
“Don’tgetallclingyonmenow,Stark,”Isaid,butthe“k”soundgotcutoffwhenhismouthcoveredmine.ElectricityandliquidwarmthdrizzledthroughmybodyasNickkissedmelikeonlyNickcould.
SomewhereinthedistanceIheardmyfriendsclapping,butnothingcould’vepulledmeawayfromtheonepersonintheworldwhoknewittookasparklypurpleunicorncaketosweepmeoffmyfeet.
Nickstayedforthecelebration,holdingmyhandasweallwalkedaroundtheOldMarkettogetherafterdinner.Andwhenitwastimetocallitanight,heaskedmequietly,sonooneelsecouldhear,“CanIdriveyouhome?”
OfcourseIsaidyes.
HelookedoveratmeasIheldmyhandsinfrontofhistruck’sheaterventsonthewayhome,andhesaid,“Doyoueverdresswarmenough?”
“Idon’tliketocoverupagoodoutfitwithabulkycoat,”Isaid,grinningashelookedatmelikeIwasasillychild.
“Well,here,”hesaid,reachingahandintothebackseatwhilehedrove.“YoucanwearE’sjacketagain.ItstillsmellslikeyourperfumefromtheDONC.”
Heheldoutthecoattome,anditwaslikelookingatanoldfriend.“Ididn’tknowthiswasyourbrother’scoat.”Itookitgentlyandlaiditovermylap,runningmyhandsoverthefabric.
“That’sbecauseyouactedlikeitbelongedtoyou,”heteased.
“True,”Iagreed,thinkingaboutallthetimesI’dwornitthathedidn’tevenknowabout.Somanycrashesonrepeat,somanywearingsofthatjacket.
Although.
Ilookeddownatthearmy-greencoat.NowthatIwasthinkingaboutit,I’dwornitontheveryfirstValentine’sDay.Theonethat’dstarteditall.
Valentine’sDay.
Theanniversaryofhisbrother’sdeath.
ButIneverfellasleepinit—untiltheDONC.ThelastValentine’sDay.
Draggingmeoutofmythoughts,Nickfoundmyhandandinterlaceditwithhis.Hegavemealookthatmadebutterfliesgowildinsideme,andthenhesaid,“Bytheway,IneverthankedyouformakingmegoalongwithyourDONCday.Ihadagreattimewithyou—”
“Ofcourseyoudid,”Iteased,whichmadehimgivemeafunnygrin.
“Butthestuffintheafternoon?”Helookedoveratmewithsuperseriouseyes.“Ewould’velovedit.”
“Yeah?”Ilookeddownatthejacket.
“Yeah,”hesaid,mergingontothefreeway.“I’mnotgoingtoactalltrippy-universe-hippieshit,butsweartoGod,ifyouknewhim,hewould’vethoughtitwastheperfectday.”
Whoa.Ileanedbackagainsttheseatandburiedmyhandsinthepocketsofthatcoat.Eric’sideaofaperfectday—thedayIforgottogivebackthecoat—wasthedaythetimeloopended.
“Whyareyousmilinglikethat?”
Ihadn’tevenrealizedIwassmiling.IglancedoveratNickandasked,“Likewhat?”
Hekindoflaughed,hiseyescrinklinginthehappywaythatIadored,andsaid,“You’rescary-grinning.”
“I’mnotscary-grinning.”
“Youseriouslywere.”Heshookhisheadandsaidthroughabigsmile,“Likesomecreeperwholikeswatchingtelevisedparadesanddressingcatsinsweaters.”
Hewasquotinghimself,fromoneoftheforgottenValentine’sDays,andhehadnoidea.Ifellhardintohisteasinglaughter,thewarmrumbleofhappinessthatshould’vealwaysbeenhissound,andIfeltincrediblygrateful.
Thankyou,Eric
“I’mnotacreeper.”Iscootedclosertohimonthatoldtruck’sbenchseat.“I’mjustagirlwhoisincandescentlyhappyatthemoment.”
Hiseyesmetmine,hisgrinmischievous,andhesaid,“AnygirlwillingtoripoffAustentoexpressherhappinessistotallymykindofcreeper.”
AndIwas.
IwasabsolutelyNickStark’skindofcreeper.
Iglanceddownatmyarmandsmiled.Icouldn’tseethetattoothroughthesweaterandjacket,butIcouldalmostfeelitbuzzing.Itswordswerelikeanelectricalcurrentburnedintomyskin.
Everythinginmylifehadchanged,butIhadzeroregrets.
IhadamarveloustimeruiningeverythingPLAYLIST
1.Lover(Remix)[feat.ShawnMendes]|TaylorSwift,ShawnMendes
2.Let’sFallinLovefortheNight|FINNEAS
3.coneyisland(feat.TheNational)|TaylorSwift,TheNational
4.NewRomantics|TaylorSwift
5.betty|TaylorSwift
6.PlaywithFire(feat.YachtMoney)|SamTinnesz,YachtMoney
7.…ReadyForIt?|TaylorSwift
8.ThePassenger|Volbeat
9.StreetLightning|TheSummerSet
10.Sabotage|BeastieBoys
11.Nervous|ShawnMendes
12.thelastgreatamericandynasty|TaylorSwift
13.GhostOfYou|5SecondsofSummer
14.fuck,I’mlonely(withAnne-Marie)|Lauv,Anne-Marie
15.LoseYourself|Eminem
16.Amnesia|5SecondsofSummer
17.fOolfOrYoU|ZAYN
18.SoDamnIntoYou|VladHoliday
19.IDon’tMissYouatAll|FINNEAS
20.ForgotAboutDre|Dr.Dre,Eminem
21.goldrush|TaylorSwift
22.EverythingHasChanged(feat.EdSheeran)(Taylor’sVersion)|TaylorSwift,EdSheeran
23.DrivingintheCity|BrandonMig
24.TheJokerAndTheQueen(feat.TaylorSwift)|EdSheeran,TaylorSwift
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4gex4YF0tYiPSuhID55dEYACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ThankYOU,delightfulreader,forpickingupthisbook.You’veaffectedmylifeinanincredibleway,playinganintegralpartinmydreamcometrue,andI’meternallygrateful.
ThankstoKimLionetti,myincredibleagent,forgivingmeadreamcareerthatyouconstantlymakebetter.YouaremorethanIeverknewIneeded.
JessiSmith,myeditor—thevisionyouhaveforbooksisnothingshortofremarkable,andI’msoluckytohaveworkedwithyou.YoumakemythoughtsandwordsSO.MUCH.BETTER,andI’mBEYONDthankfulforyourexpertise.
ToallthetalentedfolksatSSBFYRandS&SCanada—MarketingandDigitalMarketing,Publicity,Sales,Education&Library,SubsidiaryRights,Production,SupplyChain—thankyousomuchfortheincredibleworkyou’vedoneonthisbook.LizCasalandSarahCreech—thankyouforanotherswoonycoverthatIlovesomuch.MorganYorkandSaraBerko—thankyouforoverseeingthenutsandboltsoftheprocessandmakingsurethestorybecameanactualbook!
ThankyoutomyBerkletefriendsforlettingmejoinyourgangandhangoutwithyouallthetime(akagroupchat).You’vemadethehighshigherandthelowslesslow,andIdon’tknowwhatI’ddowithoutyou.
ThankstoalltheBookstagrammers,TikTokkers,YouTubers,andbloggers;you’reoutheredoingincredibleworkforzerocompensation,andI’mreallynotsurewhatwe’vedonetodeserveyou.Youaretalented,amazingcreators,andIcannotthankyouenoughforeverysinglethingthatyoudointhenameofbooks.HaleyPham,Iadoreyouandyourdelightfulfollowers.
LoriAnderjaska—you’rethecoolestbadassinSWOmaha;thankyouforbeingmy402editorandforlendingmeyourchildren’snames.
Also—thankstoTaylorSwift,forwritingsongsthatfeellikebooks.
Andthefam:
Mom—you’reamazingandIloveyoumorethanwords.Iwouldn’thaveTHISwithoutyou.
Dad—Imissyoueveryday.
Cass,Ty,Matt,JoeyandKate—thankyouforbeingincrediblehumanbeingswhomakemeproudandcrackmeup.Ithinkyou’reallsupercool,butthat’sprobablyjustbecauseIbuiltyou.
ANDKEVIN:
Thankyouforacceptingthatmyhappyplaceisoftenaloneinaroomwithmycomputer.ThankyouforacceptingthatIsuckatthedomesticarts,andthatIonlybringsixrecipestothisrelationship(Istillcan’tbelievethatnumber).EveryloveinterestIwriteisinspiredbyyou,becauseeveryloveinterestshouldbethoughtful,respectful,sarcastic,kind,andreallyfreakinghilarious.Youarebyfarmyfavoritehuman,andIdon’tdeserveyou.MorefromtheAuthor
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ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
LYNNPAINTERwritesromanticcomediesforbothteensandadults.SheistheauthorofBetterThantheMoviesandMr.WrongNumber,andsheisaregularcontributortotheOmahaWorld-Herald.ShelivesinNebraskawithherhusbandandpackofwildchildren,andwhensheisn’treadingorwriting,oddsaregoodshe’sguzzlingenergydrinksandwatchingrom-coms.YoucanfindheratLynnPainter.com,onInstagram@LynnPainterKirkle,oronTwitter@LAPainter
Visitusatsimonandschuster.com/teen
www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Lynn-Painter
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Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Anyreferencestohistoricalevents,realpeople,orrealplacesareusedfictitiously.Othernames,characters,places,andeventsareproductsoftheauthor’simagination,andanyresemblancetoactualeventsorplacesorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
Text?2022byLynnPainter
Jacketillustration?2022byLizCasal
JacketdesignbySarahCreech?2022bySimon&Schuster,Inc.
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LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData
Names:Painter,Lynn,author.
Title:Thedo-over/LynnPainter.
Description:Firstedition.|NewYork:Simon&SchusterBFYR,[2022]|
Summary:Sixteen-year-oldEmilie,stuckinacosmicGroundhog/Valentine’sDaynightmarewhereshediscoversherfamilyissplittingupandherboyfriendischeatingonher,decidestoembarkuponTheDayofNoConsequences,butwhenherrepetitivedaysuddenlyends,shemustfacetheconsequencesofheractions.
Identifiers:LCCN2022002446(print)|LCCN2022002447(ebook)|ISBN9781534478862(hardcover)|ISBN9781534478886(ebook)
Subjects:CYAC:Dating(Socialcustoms)Fiction.|Familyproblems—Fiction.|Valentine’sDay—Fiction.|LCGFT:Romancefiction.|Novels.
Classification:LCCPZ7.1.P352Do2022(print)|LCCPZ7.1.P352(ebook)|DDC[Fic]—dc23
LCrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2022002446
LCebookrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2022002447