4,090February
Like A Friend (Blue)
"I don't understand why we can't just go to a movie," Erica huffs. "I'm not saying we have to go shopping."
I lean into the mirror in the hall, carefully brushing eyeliner down the length of my eye. "Come on, Ric, the arcade will be fun."
"Why are you getting all dressed up, anyway? Is it because of this Zach guy?"
I point my mascara wand at her. "You're the one who's always saying I need to stop hiding myself and do what I can to make the best of myself."
Ann pops up out of nowhere in her hideous tan coat. "Eric's throwing a fit."
"Ric!" Eric shouts on cue from the kitchen. "I need my shoes back, okay?"
"Sucks to have your needs!" Erica hurls back.
"Has anyone seen –" Michael ambles out of the living room, glasses in hand. "You look nice," he says carefully, taking me in.
"Thanks," I smile.
"This family going-out business is so complicated," Erica sniffs.
"You just don't want to go to the arcade!" Eric shouts.
Ann's coat re-pops into my field of vision. "Summer, come help Eric find another pair of shoes, please."
"Why does Summer get to invite a friend when I don't?" Erica whines as I rush over to the kitchen.
"Ric took my shoes because I voted for the arcade," Eric tells me indignantly.
The doorbell rings. "I'll get –" I hear Erica start, then stop abruptly.
"Hold on," I tell Eric, hurrying back outside again. Zach, I think, suddenly feeling pleasantly warm.
"Oh, my God," Erica is saying. "Oh, my God, you are, like, so famous at our school, all my friends literally want to be you –"
"Ric, don't smother –" I stop halfway to the door. "Roxanne?"
"Sophomore, your sister's gorgeous." Roxanne runs a hand through her hair and smirks at me. It really is her, standing at the entrance of my house in a low-cut black jacket that offers a glimpse of her glittery orange cocktail dress. And Eve is right next to her, looking equally glamorous in yellow that sets off her hair.
"What are you guys doing here?" I say guardedly.
Roxanne pushes past Erica and stomps into the house with her red strappy stilettos. "Huh. Small." She spins around, waving her arms. "Like my dress? We're going clubbing. You're coming."
"I have plans," I say slowly. After Bangkok and the dining hall incident, I'm not sure how to respond to her.
"With the friend who wants to be more?" Roxanne arches an eyebrow.
"No, with us, you know, her family, but you should totally come with –" Erica trips over her words in her haste to get them out.
"Yeah, with my family," I cut her off firmly. "We're going to the arcade in Snellwood. Air hockey, bowling, stuff like that."
Roxanne rolls her eyes. "How very middle-class-American of you." She turns away, but not before I see her disdainful expression flicker slightly. "Come on, Evie, I guess we're not wanted here."
"You could come with us," I find myself saying.
Erica looks like she's about to have an orgasm. "Yes! Oh my God, yes, please!"
Roxanne turns her head. "You want me to go bowling? Put my manicured feet in bowling shoes that have carressed hundreds of moldy toes and, what, flirt with a bunch of other middle-class-American boys who think video games are a sport?"
I throw up my head. "Well, if you don't want to –"
"Summer, tell your friend –" Michael walks out of the living room and pauses. It's an almost imperceptible pause as he takes in Roxanne and Eve, but because he's Michael, I know he's thrown. "You're not Zach."
Roxanne's lips curve upwards. She shifts herself, just a little, her jacket sliding down without her touching it. "You're not Zach, either."
"He's my brother Michael," I say through gritted teeth.
"He's going to Harvard next year," Erica says eagerly. Eve stirs suddenly, looking interested for the first time. "He works at the hospital now."
"What do you want to study?" It's Eve who says it, not Roxanne.
Michael scratches his head. "I'm pre-med."
"What was your SAT score?" Eve marches purposefully past Erica and Roxanne and stops in front of Michael. The overhead light catches her golden hair and makes it burst into flame in a way that causes Michael's eyes to widen a little. "I would like to study Economics – do you think it's a terrible idea to say that on my application when it's such a popular concentration?"
I glance at Roxanne, thrown. I've never seen Eve so animated before.
"I guess we're going to the arcade," Roxanne mutters.
"O-M-G, Roxanne's here!"
I whee around. Talia is standing at the door, hip thrust out. And next to her – finally, finally – is Zach. He's wearing a green T-shirt instead of his usual dark apparel. Orange letters spell out "Equal Opportunity Annoyer" across his chest.
I smile wide, my breath catching in my throat. "Hey."
He nods. "Hey."
Talia barrels past me and throws herself into Roxanne's waist."O-M-G, I totally wanted to wear my sparkly blue Marc Jacobs, but Mother said I'd be overdressed, but you're wearing glitter! Why didn't you tell me?"
Eric bursts into the room. "Ric, if you don't give me back my shoes, I –" He stops, a blush rising over his neck. "You guys weren't here before."
"Let's go, shall we?" Ann says cheerfully behind him. Her mouth falls open as she takes in Roxanne and Eve's sparkling dresses and Eric's stare."We are going to the arcade?"
"Are you Summer's Mom?" Talia pipes up. "It figures. I hate that coat."
Zach chuckles, a sound low in his throat that makes me forget anything I could have retorted with.
Ann blinks. She looks down at herself. "It was on sale," she says to nobody in particular.
"Mrs, Ward, I apologize for tagging along at the last minute," Roxanne says sweetly, taking Ann's arm. "I hope it's not too much of an imposition."
Ann smiles uncertainly. "It's no problem. And please, call me Ann."
Erica hip-checks Zach on her way out in her haste to be next to Roxanne, who she can't stop staring at. I reach for his hand as if in apology and when he lets me take it I'm breathless.
"God, it's loud in here," Roxanne complains. The arcade is noisy with the beeps and bleeps of video games and the thumping and victorious screams of the bowlers. Everywhere I look, there's a flashing neon-lit screen or a small child in purple or blue. Eric has dragged Ann off to play Asphalt Urban GT, but the rest of us have grabbed a table and piled it with hot dogs and french fries.
"You're so full of it," I say. "It would be just as loud in a nightclub." A guy about our age passes by the table, staring openly. Erica stares right back.
Roxanne bites into a fry. "I'm going to ignore that."
"Aren't you on a diet?" Erica asks her curiously.
"I am," Roxanne says calmly. "Not the Shaya diet, either. But try these. They'll make you forget your own name."
Hearing Shaya's name makes me uncomfortable. I squirm in my seat.
"Come play Barbie games with me, Ric!" Talia says brightly.
Erica can't take her eyes off Roxanne. "In a bit, okay?"
"No, now!" Talia pushes out her lower lip. "Roxy, tell her to go with me."
Roxanne looks at Eve and Michael, who are discussing the relevance of Ivy athletics in real sports (what?), and then at Zach, sitting silently next to me. "You know what, I'll go too."
"Really?" Erica breathes.
"Sure, why not." She puts one arm around each of them, leading them away. "So you're going to be a freshman at Thornton next year, right, Erica?"
Erica studies her feet. "Actually, no. My grades aren't very good, so I'll probably just go to Linbury Pub –"
"Nonsense," Roxanne says breezily. "My Dad's the principal at Thornton. I'll talk to him."
"Are you serious?" Erica looks orgasmic for the second time in the last few minutes.
I look at Zach. "Your sister seems to like my sister a lot more than she likes me."
"Must break your heart," Zach says carelessly. "I'm going to go play something."
A flush warms my face. I want to ask him to stay with me, but that seems pathetic. "What, you have a secret passion for video games I didn't know about?"
He shrugs. "Something like that."
I watch him walk away, suddenly feeling very alone.
"Oh, my." Ann fans her face as she settles into his vacated seat. "I simply can't get to the third lap." She picks up a hot dog. "He's very good-looking."
I flush again. I don't have to ask who she's talking about. "I know."
"A little quiet, don't you think?"
"He doesn't make the best first impression," I admit.
She smiles, almost teasingly. "He looks at you when you're not looking."
"Yeah?" I say, disheartened. "Then why'd he jump up and walk away the moment Roxanne left us alone?"
"Maybe he's not enjoying being your friend as much as you are," Ann says.
I poke at a fry. "I'm not ready. Yet."
"I know, baby." She pats my hand soothingly. "It'll be all right. I'm sure he just doesn't want to fake contentment when he doesn't feel it."
"Yeah," I sigh. "He's not much of a faker."
Erica bobs up. "Zach's beating Eric at GT! What kind of asshole doesn't let the little kid win at a video game?"
"He's not all that little," I say, as Ann says, "Language, Erica."
Erica rolls her eyes. "Nathan would have let him win."
I stiffen, pulling my hand away from Ann's. "Look, Erica. I'm sorry that things not working out with Nathan disappoints you so much, but I can't help it, all right? And I don't want to talk about him."
"But he was so nice." Erica hovers defiantly over the subject.
"Why don't you date him, then?" I say before I can stop myself.
"I wish I could," she mumbled, lowering her gaze. "I wouldn't have dumped him."
The words hang between us for a moment.
I soften. "Oh, Ric. I know you liked him –"
She leans against Ann, who is looking away tactfully. "Whatever. I don't see why you like Zach more than Nathan. I just think it's kind of masochistic."
"Ric, let's not argue about this. Please?"
She sighs. "Yeah. Okay. Whatever." She studies a group of blue-haired bowlers for a minute. "He is hot," she admits grudgingly.
I sigh, too, but it's a different kind of sigh. "Yeah," I say. "He is."
Eric chooses that moment to come running up to the table. "Summer, Zach's asking if you want to play air hockey with him."
Hope lights up my insides. "Sure."
Zach is lounging by the air hockey table, juggling the bright blue puck in his hands. I saunter up to him and snatch it out of his hands. He looks up slowly. "Huh. After that ass-kicking I gave your brother, I didn't expect you to agree to play me."
I cross my arms over my chest. "I used to play this with Rachael and Curtis all the time. I'm really good."
"I bet," Zach says, "that I kick your ass."
"What do you bet?" It's a familiar feeling, that half-competetive half-excited thrumming in my chest.
"You'll see." He picks up a paddle and tosses it at me. It almost slips through my fingers, but I manage to hold on to it.
"Whatever." I fake boredom as we face off.
Zach hits first, hard. I'm expecting the aggressiveness and block his shot with my paddle. He leans halfway across the table to shoot it back, continuing the attack. My hand is already aching as I leap to defend the goal, but the puck skids into the slot.
Zach raises his eyebrows. "Really good, huh?"
I point my paddle at him. "Your arms are longer than mine. And I'm out of practice."
But I'm out of excuses when he beats me 7-4.
"Fine," I say, sweeping my hand across my sweaty face. "What do you want?" I ask warily.
Zach points at a red-headed girl in a green miniskirt playing air hockey with another girl two tables away. "Get me her number."
My heart skips a beat. I'd expected something else entirely. "What?"
"Do you want me to say please?" Zach's tone is mocking.
"I don't –" I stare at him. "Why do you want her number?"
"Why do you think I want her number?" He takes a step towards me.
"But –" My voice is small. "What about – us?"
"There is no us, is there?" He takes another step towards me. "You said that. You aren't ready. We're friends."
"You said you would wait for me," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"So I'm supposed to ignore my needs while I wait?"
"I thought –" I look around frantically, searching for a solution.
"Would you be jealous?" He's close enough to touch. To disorient. The thoughts in my head slacken and go spinning away, too far away to pull back. He smells like something floral, something…
"You smell different," I blurt out.
"What?"
"You do," I say thickly.. "Different than usual."
He looks at me like I'm crazy. "I ran out of soap in the shower. I used Talia's."
In the shower. Heat wraps around the length of my body. "You smell like a girl."
He takes another step forward. "Do I?"
"I would be jealous," I half-whisper.
"Zach!" Talia breaks into the minute space between us. "I need to pee!"
I blink, stumbling backwards. Cold air hits my body.
"Take me, Zach," Talia commands imperiously. "I can't find Roxy or Erie."
"Okay," Zach says, and I don't know if he's speaking to me or to Talia. "Okay."
March
Kiss Me (Sixpence None The Richer)
"You have to come over," Talia says tersely.
"My lit mag meeting ran late," I say. "I'm not sure if –"
"Zach's locked himself up in his room," Talia interrupts. "Ever since he got back from school. And he won't open the door and I don't know why and Mom and Dad are out and it's not like – please, Summer, it's scary here all alone."
I haven't been at the Gellar home in a while, and I pause for a second to get my bearings before I head upstairs. "Not now," Zach yells when I knock on his door.
"It's me," I say.
There's a thud and then the door swings open with a gasp. "What the hell do you want?"
"What's wrong?" I walk into his room. It looks different, a little less antiseptic – there are a couple of posters of bands I've never heard of on the walls, and books are spilling over everywhere. "What happened?"
"Yeah, I want to know," Talia squeaks from behind me.
"Fuck the fuck off," Zach says to her.
She opens her mouth, but falters at his expression and scampers away. I narrow my eyes at him. "You didn't have to talk to her like –"
"I got rejected from Yale."
The words float around the air, indecipherable like the Chinese alphabet. It's not that I don't hear them; it's just that they don't register.
"Oh." I sit down heavily on his bed.
We stare at each other. A thousand responses flutter around my head, but none of them seem right.
"Are you okay?" I say nonsensically.
"Oh, yeah," Zach spits, so sarcastically that I wince. "I'm fucking dandy."
"I don't know what to say."
"Yes, you do." He flings himself down next to me, on the covers of his bed that are the Yale shade of blue. "You know exactly what you want to say – if I really wanted Yale, I would have tried, right? I wouldn't have cut school, I wouldn't have pissed off my teachers, I wouldn't have just assumed that –"
I don't even think about it. I lean forward and press my lips to his.
He goes very still. After a moment that lasts a lifetime, I pull back. His eyes are the darkest shade I've ever seen them, his breathing uneven.
And then he's wrapping his hand around my neck and kissing me like he's never kissed me before and somehow our legs are tangled and my hands are searching for more and I can't breathe and –
He lifts his head from mine. "Are you done being a tease?" he pants out, his heartbeat staccato against my chest.
"I wasn't being –" I start, but then he's kissing me again and I don't know how or why I've stopped myself from doing this all this time and it doesn't matter –
I let my thoughts go into the night.
Don't Need You (Kenny Rogers)
"You're smiling." Roxanne is at my side the moment I get out of Michael's car at school. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"Take a wild guess."
She narrows her eyes. "The friend is no longer a friend, is he?"
I look at her. "How do you do that?"
"Practice," she says breezily. "So? How'd it happen? I'd expect long speeches and kisses in the rain after all the beating around the bush that you two have been doing."
I frown. "He got rejected from Yale."
"Now there's an aphrodisiac." Roxanne looks at me. "Is he okay?"
"I don't know," I confess. "I sort of – well, we fooled around but then his parents came home and I – left. We haven't talked about –"
My phone beeps, cutting me off. I fish for it with eager fingers. "Hello?"
"Where the hell are you?"
"Good morning, Zach, it's nice to hear your voice too," I deadpan, but I'm smiling. I can still taste him, still feel the imprint of his fingers on my skin – and the world suddenly seems sharper, brighter.
"Just meet me inside, okay?" The phone goes dead.
He reaches out as soon as he sees me and almost snaps my neck in half as he pulls my face roughly up to his. My knees feel week and I clutch at him, telling myself it's just so I don't fall down.
"Oh, God," Roxanne groans. "At least with Nathan the PDA was less pornographic."
"Congratulations!"
Zach and I break apart at the scream. Karin Wu, cheerleader extraordinaire, barrels down the hall and latches herself onto Nathan, who's materialized out of nowhere. Karin kisses his cheek effusively and gives Shaya, standing next to him, a quick squeeze. "Princeton Boy," she squeals.
I feel Zach stiffen.
"Thanks, Kar." Nathan is smiling modestly. He doesn't look at me – even if he does, I know that he'll look through me in a way that cuts me to the quick. I can taste a certain kind of sadness on my tongue – this is Nathan, how can I not have known that he got into his first choice?
"Hear that, Zach?" Shaya looks directly at me. My stomach lurches sickeningly. She knows, I realize suddenly. God knows how, but she knows about Yale. "Nathan got into his dream school."
Roxanne pushes me out of her way and tilts her head at Shaya. "See this, Nate?" she says sweetly. "Zach got into Summer's pants."
I see Nathan clench his fists as my stomach flips. I wish myself a thousand miles away. I make myself take a step forward. Brave, I tell myself.
"Don't, okay?" I say quietly. "You're not hurting each other. You're just hurting Zach and Nathan. It's not funny." I look at Roxanne. "Please."
Shaya looks away. "Let's go tell our friends," she says to Karin and Nathan, and none of them look back as they walk away.
Thornton students are milling into the building. I can feel their curious stares prickle my skin. I lean into Zach, curling my fingers around his.
He shakes his hand free. "I can't do this. I can't watch everyone celebrate theirs – I can't. I'm getting out of here."
"Do you want me to come with you?" I ask tentatively.
He doesn't meet my gaze. "No," he says.
"Convincing," Roxanne snorts.
"Come on." I nudge his hip, trying for a light tone. "You have to take me out sometime anyway."
"Don't patronize me," he snarls.
"I'm not," I start, but he's already walking away.
"I'll take you out at night," he says brusquely.
The Way I Loved You (Taylor Swift)
He takes me to a Dairy Queen.
I look around, at the toddler beating his fists on the table at a booth, at the baby licking ice-cream off his oblivious mother's jacket, at the paper napkins and bright white lights, and have a ridiculous urge to giggle when I remember my first date with Nathan at the Regency.
"Romantic," I deadpan.
Zach is wearing a blue T-shirt that says "Whatever" on it in green. So maybe it is romantic.
"What did you expect, a jet to Paris?" He sits down at a table for two. He's not looking at me – he seems far away, distant. "I can't do the diamond jewelry crap, you know. I don't have much of an allowance."
"Do you hear me complaining?" Annoyance lights up my face like a flame.
"I'm just saying." He motions the waitress over and points to a banana sundae. "I know you're used to Princeton Boy spreading himself out at your feet and licking your toes, but – "
"I don't want that," I hiss. "I told you."
"Could've fooled me," Zach says blandly.
I lean forward, ignoring the waiting waitress, and glare at him. "Look, Zach. This isn't going to work unless you stop comparing yourself with Nathan. Do I think about Nathan? Sure I do. He was a good guy, and the flowers and stuff – all of it was nice. And it was nice that he wasn't a jerk, and that he didn't drive me completely crazy –"
Zach's eyes flash. "I'm sorry I'm not your doormat –"
"But then I think about you," I forge on determinedly, "And I can't think about anything else. And I can't imagine being with anyone else. So just shove what you can and can't do up your ass, okay?"
He regards me silently for a moment. "I'm going to NYU," he says.
I flounder at the sudden change of topic. "You are?"
"I went to see it that day you went to see your meathead ex-boyfriend." He studies his menu. "I…liked it. It seemed like the kind of place I'd fit into. And bonus point – I got in."
I lean back in my chair. "I never understood why you wanted to go to Yale," I admit. "Maybe it's just a stereotype, but it always seemed too…type-A for you."
He lets out a tired sigh, clutching at his hair. "I wanted to prove my parents wrong for once."
My lips curve upwards. "That's almost as bad as fucking up just to piss them off."
He studies me. "You're such a supportive and understanding girlfriend."
My heart thumps at the word girlfriend. " And bonus point," I mimic him. "I'm your girlfriend."
"Well, going to a state school will certainly accomplish the pissing-them-off part." Zach picks at his sundae. "Shit."
"A state school that's the perfect fit for you," I point out.
"At least I'll have your hot sister to keep me company."
I ignore the comment. "What do you want to do when you grow up, anyway?"
"Including or excluding tapping your hot sister?"
"Who the hell says tapping outside a fraternity?" I keep my voice calm, refusing to take the bait.
"I want to fool around now," Zach says, leaning across the table so his face is close to mine.
A flush rises over the back of my neck. "I want to finish my ice-cream," I lie.
He kisses the corner of my mouth lazily. Bits of my skin come alive under my layers of clothes, making it a struggle to think. "Seriously," I say, breathlessly, "Wait."
His eyes bore into mine. "I've been waiting for months."
I fight to keep my tone calm. "Is that all you want from me?"
He doesn't say anything for a minute and my stomach turns over. But then he leans back and settles into his seat, face blank. "I want to go to grad school for English," he says tonelessly. "Maybe teach English. In college. Not to moronic high school sophomores like you."
My heart feels full. I smile like it's Christmas morning.
April
The Happy Birthday Song
My sixteenth birthday coincides with the first warm Saturday of the year.
Erica drags me outside the moment I get out of bed. They've set up a table in the backyard, and it's groaning with breakfast food – bacon, eggs, juice – as well as cupcakes frosted in all kinds of colors. They hand me presents as I eat – a voucher for the bookstore from Erica ("You're a really predictable person to shop for!), a gold bracelet from Ann ("This was my great-grandmother's – she her husband gave it to her when he went away to fight for the Confederates."), a tie-dyed top ("I painted it myself!") from Eric and a set of notebooks from Michael ("….").
Dad sends a letter and five hundred dollars in cash. It makes me tear up. Erica teases me about keeping one eye on the phone and the other on the door throughout breakfast. It's true, though. I can't help expecting Zach to call or show up.
Roxanne calls. Chris calls. Eve calls – and asks to speak to Michael three seconds after wishing me a happy birthday. I see a flush spread over his neck as he takes the phone and disappears into the house and my smile widens improbably. To my surprise Alex Reiser, a sophomore on the literary magazine who wear Converse high-tops in a sea of loafers and writes witty stories about preteenagers on Facebook, calls. CeeCee and Ross send a handmade card ("We're taking blow-painting lessons in the Village!").
Roxanne tries to coerce me into going to a club with a fake ID at night, but I tell her that I want to spend the day with my family. So she provides us – the entire family – with gift cards for an extravagant spa treatment at the Regency.
They make me turn my phone off in the spa. I'm getting worried about Zach.
"Chill, sophomore," Roxanne says airily as a spa attendant rubs something salty and sticky over my foot. "You know he said he was getting around to telling his parents about NYU this week. He's probably grounded or something."
"What kind of boyfriend doesn't call his girlfriend on her birthday?" Erica never misses an opportunity to get in a dig about Zach.
"Um, one who's going to make it up to her?" Roxanne looks pointedly at me. "I have another question. What kind of girl doesn't want a massive blow-out on her sixteenth birthday?"
"You know it'll get complicated," I mumble. "Shaya and Nathan –"
"Hate you already," Roxanne says.
"I just…" I sigh. "I want to be with the people I care about today, okay?"
"Aw, you care about me," Roxanne says in a falsetto. "That's such a boost to my ego."
Erica giggles. I can't resist a smile.
Zach finally calls me at night.
"Hey!" I can't help feeling a little giddy at the sound of his voice. My birthday's almost over, but I feel like I've just gotten the best present of the day. "Did you tell them?"
"Yeah." He sounds exhausted.
"And?"
"My mother cried," he says wearily. "And Dad said he knew I wouldn't get in. They competed to see who could screw me up more, as usual."
I exhale, thinking of my own supportive family, the hugs and the kisses and the presents I've gotten today. "I'm so sorry."
"Whatever," Zach says flatly. "It's not like you were there."
I sit up. "You didn't ask me."
"Like you would have come," Zach says darkly.
"I would have!"
"Whatever," Zach says again.
"But I would have." I scramble for a different topic. "It's my birthday."
"Oh, yeah," Zach says absently. "I forgot about that."
I recoil into my sheets. "Right," I say tightly.
He's silent.
"Zach," I say quietly. "You're not screwed up. You're brilliant. You know that. You're going to be NYU's best student and graduate with honors and –"
"As opposed, what, to being in the top ten at Yale?" His voice is heavy.
I want to see him all of a sudden, wrap him up in my arms and kiss him until he forgets. "You know you'll be happier at NYU."
"Right." He imitates my tight tone.
"I thought about you all day," I say tentatively.
"I'm outside."
I drop my phone, aching with anticipation, and hurry to the window. He's standing with his motorcycle popped up by his hip, staring upwards.
I yank on a skirt and sneak downstairs, almost tripping over my own feet in my haste. He reaches for me the moment I'm facing him, cradling me into his long lean body as he kisses the side of my neck. It turns urgent fast, his hands fluttering up my thighs, his teeth scraping my shoulder.
I clutch at his hand. I feel feverish, but I keep my tone light. "Late night booty call, huh?"
He lets go of me so abruptly that I almost fall. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," I say quickly. "I just missed you today –"
"Excuse me for being a little preoccupied about being a failure."
"God, Zach, enough with the pity party!" I burst out. "Thousands of brilliant kids with tons of extracurriculars and great essays and whatever apply to Yale every year, and you know what? Most of them get rejected. It doesn't mean they're not brilliant, doesn't mean they're not going to be rich and famous and great someday, it just means they were unlucky in that particular respect. Okay? You're the smartest guy I know, and when you win a Nobel Prize for Literature, Yale – and your unsupportive douchebag parents who don't deserve you – are going to know about it. Okay?"
His eyes are cold. "Maybe you're a patronizing bitch who's okay with whatever state school agrees to waitlist her, but I'm not."
I feel my anxiety freezing and swelling, turning into something like hard anger. "Would you prefer it if I told you that I knew it, too? Or do you want me to cry? Will that help you?"
He steps away. "Fuck you."
I grasp for something to do or say that will bridge the chasm that's appeared out of nowhere between us, but his bike is already purring away.
I spend the night sleepless, staring at the ceiling. I try to call Zach the next day, but he doesn't respond. I stay in bed in the evening. I cry a little. Mostly I just try not to think.
It's at one in the morning another sleepless night later that my computer beeps.
yourstalker: come down
I throw a curious, half-frightened glance outside the window. It's Zach, leaning against his bike, the moonlight illuminating his pale skin. My heart jumps into my throat and I don't stop to think as I fly down the stairs, skidding to a stop a few paces away from him.
"Get on," Zach says briefly, motioning at his bike.
I keep my sheer relief at seeing him again hidden under my guarded expression. "Why?"
"Just get on, okay?"
My throat stings. "So, what, you just walk away and ignore me for two days straight and then you show up and I'm just supposed to –"
He cups my face in his hands and kisses me. It's a surprisingly gentle kiss, nothing like I'm used to, and I melt into it. "Get on," he repeats huskily.
We fly through the dark streets on his bike. The wind whips my hair into a frenzy and I shiver in the cold. I clutch him tightly to me, afraid that I'm dreaming, afraid that I'm going to wake up and he won't be there. We whip past the 'Snellwood, New Jersey' signboard and stop at the bar I'd danced for him at.
He twists around to look at me, a smirk fluttering around the corners of his mouth. "Come on."
"Here?" I say uncertainly.
"What, do you want a red carpet? Or is that too Wellington-ish?"
I glare at him as I climb off his bike.
The bar looks exactly the same it did the first time. Except that it's empty, the karaoke machine is playing the Shania Twain song I danced to on a constant loop, a fire is roaring in the fireplace, and one of the tables is covered with a red-checkered cloth with a box of my favourite Oreos cereal perched on top it.
I open and shut my mouth like a fish.
"Don't tease with that unless you plan to use it," Zach says into my ear.
I turn around and throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, grinding my hips into his. "I can't believe you did this," I mutter into his shirt. "After what I said to you. I'm sorry about your parents, I'm sorry about –"
"Whatever," he says gruffly, and I know him and I know it's an apology and an acknowledgment all at once.
I look up into his intense dark eyes as I kiss him slowly, dragging out the moment as long as I can.
"Happy belated birthday, kid," he whispers against my mouth.
May
On The Ride (Aly and Aj)
On the first day of May, my doorbell rings as I'm pouring cereal into my breakfast bowl. Erica comes scowling into the kitchen. "It's Mr Sunshine."
I drop my cereal bowl on the table and dash outside. "What are you doing here?" I ask Zach.
He shrugs. "Taking you to school."
"What's the occasion?" I ask suspiciously.
"Thank you, Zach, it was wonderful of you to offer and I'm going to reward you with earth-shattering sexual favors the second I can," he says, poker-faced.
I roll my eyes, keeping my cool even as my stomach flips in excitement. "You have to wait. I'm eating."
"Hurry up."
I pretend to drag my feet into the house, moving my arms in exaggerated slowness. He grabs my arm and twists me around, stamping a hard kiss onto my nose. "Hurry up," he repeats.
I do.
The motorcycle roars through the street and I'm so happy it hurts. I squeeze the life out of his waist and press myself into his back without caring if anyone's watching. I lean forward and take his ear between my lips, grinning goofily when he shudders and throws out a leg to stop the bike.
He twists around. "Are you trying to get us killed?"
"No," I say, my grin widening. "I'm trying to reward you with earth-shattering sexual favors."
Realize (Colbie Caillat)
I would die if he knew it, but I watch him when he's sleeping sometimes.
He wears cotton T-shirts that smell like citrus-y shower gel, and I can see his chest rising and falling through the fabric. He's a rapid breather, even at night, and his eyelashes flutter on his cheeks like they're trying to catch on them. I move closer to him until my hair is mingling with his on his pillow and inhale, cataloguing the tiny scar at the corner of his eye that he got when an older cousin slammed a soccer ball into his face, the way he sometimes licks his lower lip in his sleep.
The thought leaps into my head during one of those moments in a way that squeezes the breath out of my lungs. I love you.
I scoot away and prop my head up on my arms, my head aching with a sudden onslaught of questions. Is it true? Do I?
He sighs and his hand flutters onto my stomach. I freeze, my heart filling with something big and all-encompassing that can't be anything else but the truth: I do.
"I'm in love with you," I whisper aloud, tasting the words, secure in my knowledge that he can't hear me, that I'm not lying, that it doesn't matter even I'm proved wrong later, because right now it's truer than anything I've ever said.
Broken (Amy Lee and Seether)
The list of class rankings go up on the Thornton bulletin board towards the end of May.
Roxanne drags me out of class the second she hears. The bulletin board is guarded from view by hundreds of students jostling each other, but they part like the Red Sea to let Roxanne and Zach Gellar's girlfriend through.
Roxanne smirks at me. "I'm number two." She runs her finger down the list, and I know she's searching for Shaya's name.
It's a strange thing, her rivalry with Shaya. Most often, she's not the one attacking – it's Shaya who makes the first move (raising her hand in class before Roxanne can, dating Derek Kettering, never leaving Nathan's side, a snide comment in a dining hall) and Roxanne who defends. I see her pass Nathan without either of them saying a word and feel a strange sense of loss; it's not that I miss the Champagne Gang or being attacked by Roxanne, it simply seems so different, so unreal to have the school split down the middle into sides, to have the Champagne Gang splintered into opposite sides, to be stared at during class, to have my name whispered in the halls along with Thornton's elite.
To feel like I was never the person Nathan told things to. To feel like I don't know anything about Nathan anymore, and perhaps never did.
"Come to check your rank?" Roxanne's smug voice breaks into my reverie. I tense, realizing that Shaya and Karin have appeared. "Don't worry. You're in the top twenty. Just about."
Shaya crosses her arms over her chest. "I don't have Eve to cheat off like you do."
"Tell that to the Ivy League admissions officers who see her number two next to your number nineteen," Lauren Morgan, who hasn't deflected like Karin has, says.
Shaya rolls her eyes. "Must be nicer to be able to be prouder of Roxanne's accomplishments than you can be of your own."
I edge away, not wanting to be noticed by Shaya. I'm still reeling from being number six – it's a heady feeling that I'm in the top ten.
A pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind. My face breaks into a smile of its own accord. I lean into Zach. The contours of his chest fit my back better now, I know from memory the exact place under his chin that my head fits best into.
"So?" His voice vibrates through my skin as he speaks.
"I'm sixth in my class," I say, unable to keep my voice restrained. "I can't believe it. I should give Eve a thank-you gift – she's number one, unsurprisingly."
Zach lets go of me. "I'm twenty-two," he says tonelessly.
"I beat you," I joke.
He looks unamused. "Kind of emasculating, huh?"
I squint at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"My girlfriend being sixteen ranks above me."
I half-grin. "Oh, yeah. I'm totally the smart one." When his expression doesn't change, I frown. "You're serious?"
He doesn't respond.
I laugh, even though it's not funny. "Okay, you're being totally archaic. I just showed up to more classes than you did, that's all. And – I'm not making excuses for having the highest rank I've ever had!"
"You had a lot of help," Zach says dully.
"You have got be kidding me." My voice rises a few octaves. "What the hell is wrong with you? I did well in school – can't you just be happy for me?"
He doesn't say anything.
I step away from him. "I can't believe you, Zach! I thought – I don't know what I thought. I – I –" I fish for words to express the way I'm feeling, but I feel choked. "I mean, honestly, do you have to make this a competition? I'm in love with you, but sometimes I don't understand –"
I halt abruptly. His expression ices over, his body stiffening, his eyes opening wide. Shit.
A few intolerable beats of silence pass.
"That wasn't – I didn't mean to say it like –" I can't look at him. My thoughts are a whirlpool, my heart pulsing in terror.
"Summer! Zach!" Karin appears out of nowhere, bubbling over with smiles. "Just the people I was looking for."
I wheel around, relief rising inside me. She's with Deborah Wilson and Julie Miles, who are wearing the blue-and-gold Thornton cheer squad uniforms.
Karin claps. "Give me a P!" she squeals.
"Give me an R!" Julie points at her.
"Give me an O!" Deborah tosses her hair.
"And an M!" Karin bows. "What does that spell? Prom!"
"What does that mean? Senior prom!"
"What do we have? Tickets to prom!"
"Who are they for? The couple of the year!"
"And who are they? Zach and Summer!"
"Go, Zach – and – Summer!" Karin thrusts her fist into the air with a flourish. "So?"
I say the first thing that comes into my head. "Won't Shaya mind if you speak to us?"
"But we're selling tickets for charity," Deb says earnestly.
"Shaya's totally into charity," Julie Miles informs me.
I stare at them. Anything to avoid looking at Zach.
"You guys are going, right?" Karin says, frowning a little.
"Um, sure," I say, just as Zach says, "No."
"But you have to go." Julie looks horrified. "It's senior prom."
I turn around, keeping my eyes on the ground as I face Zach. "It could be fun."
"Do you seriously think I'm going to dance?" Zach says, and his voice is blank and cutting at the same time. "Prance around in a tuxedo? Whisper sweet nothings into your ear as everyone looks at us starry-eyed and then fuck you in a suite at the Regency?"
My throat hurts. I stare at him, feeling as though my heart is being ground into powder with a pair of tongs.
"Right!" Karin says, mock-cheerfully. "Come to us if you need those tickets after all!" She swishes off with her friends. I hear a burst of giggles as they round the corner.
I look at Zach, my face burning. "There was no need for that. If you don't want to go, you don't want to go. You don't have to –"
"I'm sorry," Zach says sardonically. "Did I hurt your feelings? Should I have pretended I'm passionate about dancing and tuxedoes because I'm the center of your universe and you're – what did you say? In love with me?"
My eyes sting with tears. "I didn't ask you to feel the same way. You don't have to talk to me like that –"
"I'm not going to Prom," he says forcefully.
My stomach churns with nausea. I feel like a shrivelled-up, spit-out piece of filth. "I hate you," I spit, even though I only wish I did.
"No," he says. "Actually, you're in love with me."
I walk away from him.
Forever and Always (Taylor Swift)
I can't stop crying.
Ann and Michael bring me ice-cream. Eric forces me to sit through a whole season of 90210. Erica puts her hands on her hips and spits, "I told you he was a jackass."
Eric kicks her. "Not helping," he hisses.
"You know he makes her cry more than anyone else ever has," she says accusingly.
"But he makes her happier than anyone else ever has," Eric says.
I can't take it anymore. I run out of the room and dive into mine.
I curl into my bed and close my eyes and cry until my throat feels scraped and raw. And then I cry some more. I scream into my pillow, press my chest with my hands to hold in the pieces of my heart, smash my fist repeatedly into my mattress, but none of it mitigates the sheer sharpness of the pain coursing through my body.
I'm calmer on the third day. I eat breakfast. I flop around the couch and watch TV until my brain turns to mush. I don't pick up a book. I don't check my phone for missed calls or messages.
Roxanne waltz into the house at eight in the evening.
"You're going to prom," she says when I stare vacantly up at her glittering, expertly made-up face, sweeping silver ballgown and elegant updo.
"No," I say flatly.
"Yes. You're going to Prom and having revenge sex with a hot senior and show Zach Gellar that he can't walk all over you."
"I can't," I say listlessly. "It doesn't matter. I can't do this anymore."
"Sophomore, listen to me." She sinks into the couch next to me and grips my shoulders. Her gaze drills into me like a drill sergeant's. "If you just sit around like you've given up, he wins. He was a jackass to you. No, honestly, not a jackass, I don't have words to describe what he was. You can't let him matter."
"I don't care about winning," I say, tears springing to my eyes again. "I just…God, Roxanne, it's not that easy. I can't…it doesn't feel like…the end…and I feel so incomplete without him…but I can't let him do this to me anymore either, and I…I can't let him do this to me, Roxanne."
"You have to be strong," Roxanne says, and there's something in her voice that makes me look up. Nathan, I think, and feel a sudden urge to hug her.
We look at each other for a long, long minute. And then I hear myself saying defeatedly, "Fine."
Prom is set up in the gigantic football field at Thornton. The theme is Royalty, so there a lot of turrets and sparkling tiaras made of Swarovski crystals and velvet thrones and senior girls in billowing ballgowns. A few underclassmen on the Social Committee are huddled together. Roxanne is enveloped by a crowd of senior boys the moment we enter. I tuck myself into a corner and watch, as detached from the scene as if I'm not really there.
I see someone who looks like Michael talking to Eve by the goblets of punch. I blink and rub my mascara'd eyes. It is Michael. For a second I think of talking to him, but then I don't. I can't muster up the energy.
I spot Nathan twirling Karin Wu in the middle of the dance floor. They're laughing conspiratorially, faces close to each other's. The pang of missing him envelopes me, making me wish suddenly that I could be in his arms, letting him soothe the pain burning inside me.
But I know that nobody can really make the pain go away.
I'm moving on, at last I can see…that life has been patiently waiting for me…The familiar song bursts through the speakers.
It's the Rascal Flatts song. The one I heard in Nathan's car the first time he took me out.
Nathan straightens slowly, his expression changing. His eyes scan the crowded field and land on me. I hold his gaze, trying to beg for forgiveness with my eyes.
But he doesn't soften. He doesn't walk towards me. He lets out a sigh – I can see his chest rise and fall – and then he turns away, looking almost as sad as I feel.
Cut to the quick, I slump, hopelessness tearing into me.
"Hey. Summer?"
I look up. It's Alex Reiser, the sophomore on the lit mag whose stories I love. His smile is friendly. I check his feet; he's wearing his Converses.
"Oh," I say, distracted. "Hi."
"Where's your boyfriend?"
"He's…" I hold my breath, waiting for the knife-sharp bite of pain to pass. "Not…" I can't get the words out.
Alex nods, his smile spilling wider. "Do you want to dance?"
I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah. Okay."
We move into the dance floor. He folds his arms around my waist and I lean into him. He smells like mint, and he's just the right size for me to rest my head on his shoulder. For a moment it's doable, it's something that feels all right.
But then, abruptly, I can't breathe. It feels wrong, he feels wrong – he's too short, too friendly, his hair too neat, his smell too fresh, his skin too cool, his…everything. Too wrong.
I stumble away from him with haunted eyes. "I can't do this."
His smile fades. "Is something wrong?"
"I – I – I'm sorry." I back away, almost tripping over my feet. "I can't – I have to go."
I wait until I'm in the parking lot to double over and clutch my sides, trying to slow down my breathing, trying not to explode like a pricked balloon, trying to hold my swelling sadness inside my body. I burst into sobs, tiny sobs that wrack my entire body until I'm numb.
"Prom sucks that much, huh?"
The voice is like an electric shock. I bolt upright, looking around wildly.
Zach's wearing a tuxedo. With a bow-tie. He saunters towards me, hair rumpled like he's tried to comb it.
I take a step backwards, away from him. "No."
He cocks his head. "So it was good?"
"No," I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. "I can't do this."
He's silent.
"I can't keep doing this dance we do, where we just keep taking one step forward and a thousand steps backward – I can't give my heart to you and see you run away and then watch you come back. I just – it's too much, Zach, it's too fucking much, and if you keep hurting me this much I don't think I can take it any –"
"I love you."
I freeze as the words spill explosively out of his mouth. He raises a shaking hand to his head and combs back his hair, not taking his eyes off me.
"You –" The lightness fills me like air, dizzying and dazzling.
"Yeah," Zach says, almost bitterly. "I'm so in love with you that I can't – think straight. It drives me crazy, you know that? It drives me crazy feeling this way, when I've never believed in – when I feel like I'm not keeping up with you – when I –" He shakes his head, almost desperately. "Fuck, kid."
I touch my face. My eyes are wet. I can't say anything, but it suddenly doesn't matter. He stares at me, and I stare back, and my heart swells until I'm sure it's going to burst.
He's silent for a long, long time, and then he says, "You want to dance?"
I move into his open arms and bury my face in his chest as his arms fold around me. I feel encompassed and consumed by him, and it doesn't feel wrong. I breathe into him and we sway to the strains of the song coming from the field. His hand is on my hair, more tender than it's ever been before.
If I could pick a moment to live over and over again until I died, it would be this one.
June
Anywhere (Evanescence)
"I'm skipping graduation," Zach says. "I'm going to New York instead."
"What about your parents?" I say sternly. "You know, the people who are paying your college tuition? They might want to see you get your diploma."
Zach quirks an eyebrow. "That's all you've got? Mommy dearest is taking Talia to visit her sister in Miami. Dad says he refuses to watch me graduate from Thornton when the best it can do for me is send me to NYU."
I fold my arms. "What about me?"
He kisses my cheekbone. "Come with me."
We have lunch with CeeCee and Ross at the Dairy Queen. CeeCee jumps out of her chair when she sees us and kisses us both effusively all over our faces. "I knew it!" she shouts. "I knew he had a huge crush on you!"
I blush. "Well, I didn't."
"Maybe I was just putting on this brooding unrequited-love act to get you to have sympathy sex with me," Zach says lightly.
CeeCee laughs. "Too bad, Zach, I'm taken." She pauses, a giant smile spreading across her face. "And getting married in October."
"You're what?" I almost scream.
"I know!" She shouts back giddily. "We set a date!"
"Oh my God!" I shout, and then we're squeezing each other and I'm laughing and kissing Ross on the cheek and CeeCee is kissing Ross everywhere and Zach is…well, Zach is calmly eating his banana sundae with a tiny smirk on his face.
After lunch, Zach and I walk around the Washington Square Park campus. He rolls his eyes as I take pictures of the Washington Square Arch and the Elmer Holmes Bobst and squeal over how fantastic it is that he's going to college in my hometown. We visit a residence hall and sneak looks at some open rooms. I squeak as he drags me into one and kicks the door shut behind him.
"What the hell?" I rub my elbow. "You just broke my arm."
"Do you seriously think I'm going to spend four years in a room this size?" Zach's face contorts as he looks around. "It's smaller than Talia's bed."
"Total hyperbole. It's twice the size of your bed."
"Comforting," he snarks. "I'm serious."
"Zach Gellar, slumming it," I grin.
He narrows his eyes. "Bitch."
"Brat," I shoot back.
He rubs his head. "You want to fool around on that mattress?"
"No!" I nudge him away. "You know some kid is going to sleep on it, right? That would be cruel."
"If that's your definition of cruelty, I shudder to think what you're going to do when you're in the real world."
"What's your definition of cruelty? Gas chambers? Auschwitz?"
He scowls. "Hilter wasn't a bad leader. A narcissist, but a leader nevertheless. He got rid of Germany's indebtedness in very little time –"
"By refusing to pay Germany's debts, which contributed at least a bit to the Great Depression – one can't just bury your head in the sand and pretend problems don't exist like that – " I take a heated step towards him.
"Germany's debts weren't a feasible amount in the first place. Every moron knows that. The Versailles Conference went way overboard – maybe if they didn't demand so much –" He grabs my hands, which are shoving at him.
"They wouldn't have had to if Kaiser Wilhelm hadn't been a soul-sucking power-hungry idiot with delusions of his own powers!"
A sudden silence engulfs the room. I'm too close to him, I realize swiftly. Zach's hold tightens on my hands. We look at each other; I swallow.
"Excuse me?" The door swings open. A boy in a belly-baring shirt scowls fiercely at us. "You're not supposed to be here."
I step away from Zach hastily. "Sorry. We're just leaving."
Once we're outside, I smile smugly. "Guess you lost your chance at that mattress."
His eyes gleam speculatively. "You know, maybe a classroom would be a better idea."
I'll Be There For You (The Friends Theme Song)
A heat wave hits Linbury towards the middle of June. I spend most of my time in Roxanne's pool in my swimsuits from Thailand. Roxanne actually swims – she says she's put on eight pounds since the end of school – but Zach and I drift around the shallow end, kicking water at each other.
Roxanne starts a spell of serial dating. Every day a new boy, either gorgeous or ripped or both, appears in her pool and competes with her turns. Sometimes there are two; once a lifeguard lectures her on how her turns lack finesse. She smiles sweetly at him and then tells him to leave. Eve joins us sometimes, and on those days I see my brother more than I've seen him all year.
We go boating on the river, all six of us. We watch movies at Duke's. We gobble ice-cream at the Dairy Queen and chocolate chip cupcakes at Starbucks. We drive to the beach and play volleyball on the sand and play around the waves. At night, we eat dinner together at my house or at Roxanne's and play board games in front of the TV. Roxanne turns up her nose at the 'pedestrian pursuits' but never turns down an invitation to join us.
I ask her about Nathan once. "That ship has sailed," she says haughtily.
"I heard you guys danced together at Prom," I say hesitantly.
"We did," she says. "It was a goodbye dance. I just can't – see him again. He makes me forget who I am."
"I wish things didn't have to end the way they did," I say softly.
"Yeah, well." Roxanne shrugs. "You win some, you lose some."
I exaggerate my look of shock. "I never thought you'd be okay with losing some."
"Not when it comes to Shaya, I'm not." Roxanne grins brilliantly.
I sigh. "You were right about Thornton, you know. You either have to fade into the shadows, serve royalty, or fight for royalty to survive. Shaya's not the kind to fade or serve. And neither are you. That's her problem."
"Are you defending her?" Roxanne says sharply.
"No," I say. "I'm just…it's kind of sad, in a way. She used to be a nice person."
"Oh, sophomore, don't get so maudlin."
I smirk at her. "I'm a junior now, you know."
"Don't remind me." She shudders theatrically.
"Do you miss Nathan?" I say softly.
She's mute for a while. "Like I said. You win some, you lose some."
I look across at Zach. His brows furrow in concentration as he forms some neverending and complicated word on the Scrabble board. If I reach out, I can touch him, and knowing this makes me uncomplicatedly joyful. "Yeah. I guess you do."
July
I'm With You (Avril Lavigne)
June melts into July and it gets a little cooler, but not much. I'm beginning to miss Zach already, sadness swelling as I think of the next year. We spend most of our time vined around each other outside on his park bench. My hair bleaches a lighter colour and his skin bronzes and I imagine that the sunshine is a secret between us.
I coil into his lap as we flip through books from the library together. He snaps at me every time I reach a page before him, calling me a competetive pain in the ass who's going to go blind from reading too fast, and I snap back calling him a page-fascist, and then of course we pause to make out, which makes reading lose its appeal a little bit. It takes us a week to finish a book.
We go the bar in Snellwood once. I get really drunk on tequila shots for the first time and dance on a table again, and he strokes my hips as he pulls me off it. We lie down on the grass where we kissed for the first time and kiss again, a thousand times, until I give up counting.
We eat french fries at Dairy Queen and he takes me home. I'm laughing as I key the door open, and then, suddenly, I'm not.
"Hadley?"
My stepsister lets out the loudest bellow I've ever heard and flings herself at me. For a second I rear back, remembering all the times she'd thrown bottles at me, and then I realize what she's doing: she's trying to hug me.
She squeezes the breath out of me. Her eyes are bright. Her hair is the original brown it was before she started colouring it yellow and red and neon blue. Her mouth is dancing and she looks like she did before Neil died.
"I'm dreaming, right?" I say dazedly.
"I got released from rehab," she says joyfully. I've never heard anybody sound as joyful as Hadley can. "I'm okay, little sis. I'm fine."
My eyes are moist. "I can't believe it."
"Well, you better!" She slaps my butt. "How are you?!"
I fight to pull myself together. "Zach, this is my sister Hadley. Hadley, my boyfriend Zach."
She surveys him critically. "Turn around," she commands.
Zach raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Don't argue with the former coke whore," Hadley says. "Turn."
Zach narrows his eyes at me, but he turns. Hadley laughs loudly. "Totally a better ass than Curtis's. Good going, sis. I assume you dumped that Neanderthal?"
I suddenly remember what Neil used to call her: Hurricane Hadley. "Yes," I say, unable to resist a laugh.
Zach stares at her unabashedly. "Hey, kid, you didn't tell me you had another hot sister."
I roll my eyes at him, but Hadley's eyes snap. "Dude. Show some respect. Don't go calling other chicks hot in front of her. It hurts a girl."
Zach's eyes go frosty. He takes a step towards me, curving his arm protectively, possessively over my shoulders. "I don't think anyone can hurt Summer as much as you already have."
Hadley looks taken aback. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"You're the coke whore," Zach says, in his measured, most cutting tone. "Aren't you? The one who threw bottles and said things without giving a shit about how it made her feel? I love Summer, so don't judge my relationship with her when you've hurt her far more than I ever will."
Fear speeds up my heart. I reach for his arm. Hadley's jaw drops. She stares at him, her expression unreadable.
And then she grins. "Aw, man," she says heartily, giving his shoulder a loud, resounding slap. "You and I are going to get along just fine."
I let out the breath I'm holding in.
"But for now," Hadley says, "get out, okay? My sis and I need to get some stuff out of the way."
She pulls me down on the couch the moment Zach exits. "So?"
"Are you really okay?" I feel weepy.
"Yeah," Hadley says earnestly. "I mean, I still need to meet with a shrink every week and all, but I'm clean. Have been for months."
I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder. "I've been so worried about you."
She ruffles my hair. "I know. I suck. Are you really mad?"
"I was," I say truthfully. "But I…thought about it, and…I figured there had to be a reason. You know? A reason you felt so much worse than we did."
Hadley kisses my forehead. "Honestly? Neil was my baby. More than anyone else's. I took care of him, I was always with him. Mom and Frank had each other – or I thought they did, anyway – and you had Curt and CeeCee had Ross and Michael and the twins were busy with…other stuff. But Neil was my everything. I was crazy about him. And when he died…"
"You don't have to talk about it –"
"No, baby, I've got to explain," she says resolutely. "The thing is, when Neil died, I blamed myself. If I hadn't tried to teach him to swim, if I had been in the pool during the earthquake…" She looks at me, tears glittering in her eyes. "I just couldn't stop thinking about it, you know? I wanted to die."
"But it wasn't your fault," I insist.
"Believe me, I've had that drummed into my head multiple times at rehab." She shakes her head rapidly. "But I want to…make it up to you guys. You know? I know I can't think like that, I know I…Neil's gone. Blaming myself won't bring him back. I know that."
I hug her tighter. "I'm sorry, Hads."
She kisses my cheek. "I know. I'm sorry, too."
"I love you," I say, because maybe she needs to hear it, and I need to say it.
She grins, bouncing away from the moment with her usual alacrity. "As much as you love Mr Tight Ass?"
I can't help it; I burst out laughing.
August
It's Not Over (Chris Daughtry)
The closer Zach gets to starting college, the more he talks about NYU. He talks about Writers in Paris, a study abroad program. He talks about classes he wants to take: Caribbean Literature, Romance languages, History of Drama and Theatre. He talks about the Lillian Vernon Creative Writers House and the prestigious Creative Writing minor. He talks about the literary magazine, about New York City, about the book his roommate has written.
It makes me happy to see him so excited about something, but it also hurts me in a strange. I think of wars, soldiers leaving the girls who love them. I think of how I can't share the world he's entering. I think of how I feel several steps behind him. I think of college parties, older girls with seductive laughs and insightful ideas, being left behind and forgotten.
It gets harder to smile.
"What?" Zach snaps at me when I turn away from him mid-sentence. He's shirtless, the muscles on his stomach coiling and uncoiling as he stuffs socks into his bag.
I grab the bag from him. "Nothing. It sounds really big, what's going to happen. Meaningful."
He reaches for me and traces his fingers over my collarbone, his other hand reaching for the hem of my shirt. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I let him pull my shirt over my head. I shiver slightly as his gaze drifts over me, feeling intolerably vulnerable. "College isn't high school."
"Your point being?" He drags the word out, exxagerated patience.
"I'm high school."
He doesn't say anything. I flush from my stomach to the roots of my hair, ashamed. "God, I sound like a needy pathetic bitch, don't I? Don't listen to me. I'm really excited for you. You just have to tell me all about it, okay? Because, I mean, I have to live vicariously through you while I sit through a bunch of stupid AP classes and watch Roxanne and Shaya unleash World War III on –"
He drags me closer to him, twining his legs around my waist as he pulls something – a purple T-shirt in my size – out from under his pillow and smooths it over my upper body. I look down at the NYU logo on it in silence.
"You're an idiot," Zach says briefly. "What else?"
I look up at him. "Blond Park Avenue princesses," I say. "Alternative genius filmmakers with green hair. And berets. Sexy girls who like to experiment –"
"Nathan Wellington, an hour away at Princeton," Zach cuts me off. "Alex Reiser, the kid in all your clubs who has a raging crush on you. Roxanne Cartwright's many, many cast-offs who will date any girl with a modicum of popularity."
I blink. "But I don't want –"
He kisses me with an open mouth, wet, demanding. "Exactly."
Riding Off Into The Sunset (The Dwayne Dibley Band)
Three days before school starts, Zach and I go to New York in Michael's car.
We're quiet as we drive through the sunny greenery of Linbury and onwards. We take turns at the wheel. He keeps his fingers in my hair when I drive and I hum softly along to the radio when he does. He naps for a while and I glance at him every few seconds, frightened by my own happiness.
We park when the sun sets and I gloat as he demands the turkey sandwiches he ribbed me for packing in the first place. He holds me for a while and soon we're clutching at each other in the backseat, kissing until my face is slick with tears. He takes my hand when we start moving again and I brush my lips across our intertwined fingers, tucking them under my chin.
The sunset fades away into darkness, but his hand remains warm and solid and real in mine.
THE END
(like, finally).
A/N : OHMIGOD OHMIGOD OHMIGOD FINALLY!
Ok. Minor freakout over. Sorry. :) Aaah. This was such a long, LONG cheesefest. I was afraid to look at the word count. To those of you who wanted Nathan to end up with Roxanne – I'm sorry, but I just don't see that happening. And I know it would have been nice if he and Summer could fix things, but I don't see that happening, either. Unless she stopped dating Zach, which, clearly she didn't. To those of you who now need glasses because this chapter was SO FREAKING LONG, or who had to puke after the fluffy sappiness, well, I apologize for that, too.
Oops, I just realized that I made NYU a state school when it's NOT (as pointed out in a review.) Sorry, chalk it up to I-can't-apply-and-participate-in-its-awesomeness-because-they-don't-have-fundings-for-international-students bitterness!
I have so many people to thank. Every single person who's every left a review, you've motivated me and literally FORCED me to end this despite how much I often didn't feel like I could. Those of you who, like Skeeter the Groundhog, have been with me since my Snapple Coffee days. Mackenzie, who's helped me out of a quagmire or two. shake., for rather FP-unrelated reasons. TO ALL OF YOU. I mean, seriously. I LOVE YOU GUYS. THANK YOU.
We're done here, folks.