“So how are you going to spend the rest of today?” Weldon said, still looking out the window.
“Sleeping,” Mir said, blowing on her tea.
Weldon grinned.
“That’s a waste of a Saturday, Kendrick,” he said.
“I like sleep,” said Mir. “Normally on weekends I sleep until eleven. Or twelve. Or later.”
“The next two months are gonna be rough for you.”
“I can do it,” said Mir.
“I believe in you,” said Weldon, still smiling. He took a sip of his coffee, his hair falling over his forehead. He brushed it back.
“I need a haircut.”
“I could give you one,” Mir said. “I cut my mom’s hair. I’m really good at it.” Weldon looked up at her, his face guileless. It took a minute for him to remember Stella’s lack of hair. He laughed.
“Good one.”
“What, you don’t think I could do it?”
“Oh, I totally believe you could,” said Weldon. “I just think—”
He stopped. He was looking at someone out the window, a tall female form walking past them. It was a girl, a little older than Mir. Mir knew her name, Ellie. She was related to Raleigh, a sort-of-distant relation, something like her mom was second cousins with Raleigh’s mom. Mir had seen her working at the yoga pants store, and at the time had felt unfairly hostile toward her, an employee of the enemy.
Ellie turned her head slightly as she walked by the window, and Mir saw her gaze catch on Weldon. Her step faltered. Ellie’s eyes were hooded slightly, and Mir saw them narrow as they darted toward her. Then with a toss of her ponytail, Ellie was gone, stomping out of sight.
Mir looked over at Weldon. He was smiling as he stared out the window, in Ellie’s direction. She recognized that smile, the one he’d beamed at her while sprawled on the ground in front of the Emporium of Wonders. She hadn’t realized how plastic it looked, something calculated to snap into place over Weldon’s real face. The fluttery feeling soured in her stomach, and she dropped her gaze to her cooling tea. For someone I think I more than like, I don’t know you at all, Mir thought. She suddenly felt very small and foolish, stupid for thinking I more than like you things about Weldon Warrick.
Weldon turned away from the window and rubbed a hand across his face, the smile deepening into a grimace.
“Well, that was awkward,” he said. Mir said nothing, staring at her hands. Weldon looked over at her, his gaze anxious.
“Mir, I—”
“I don’t really know you,” said Mir. “Our families have this weird history, but it’s not like you know me or I know you, not really.”
“I’d like to get to know you,” Weldon said. “And I feel like maybe you did too? But right now I think you’re angry with me.”
They sat silently for a moment, Mir half listening to the sounds of the other customers in the Starbucks. Someone was ordering a coffee that had about fifteen words in its name. Latte, foam, whipped, cinnamon, chocolate sprinkles. The list went on and on.
“I’m not angry with you,” Mir said. “I just … realized there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
Weldon stared out the window, his eyebrows drawn down. A small knot of tourists were ambling down the street, peering in the window of the make-your-own-pottery store. The tourists gathered in a group to discuss something, then pushed open the door to the store and went inside.
“What happened with you and Ellie?”
Weldon’s mouth twitched, and he shoved a hand through his too-long hair.
“You know her?”
“She’s related to one of my friends,” said Mir.
“Jeez, small towns,” Weldon said. “Everyone knows everyone. Must be like living in a fishbowl.”
Mir waited, watching him. She was very aware of the feeling of the cup in her hands, her fingers wrapped around it tighter than necessary. Weldon hesitated, glancing out the window one last time, then continued.
“I think she’s a little like you. Wants to leave Sandford, isn’t sure how to do that. I got—I was kind of dismissive with her. I acted like living in Los Angeles, being the son of David Warrick and all the opportunities that provided me, wasn’t a big deal.”
He shrugged.
“I still don’t want anything to do with my dad’s business, but I shouldn’t have been so casual about it. I know—” And he looked up at Mir. “I know it would mean a lot to you if your grandfather had stayed at Warrick Comics, and you had the chance to be involved with that world.”
“Yeah,” said Mir. “It would mean a lot.”
Her fingers reached for him. They slid across the knee-high table between them and brushed the back of his hand. She felt her skin against his, the tips of the first two fingers on her hand gliding across Weldon’s wrist. Mir’s stomach felt like it was trying to flutter out of her throat, Weldon’s hand still and warm beneath her fingers. She forced herself to breathe in, a quick, shuddery sigh.
“I like you,” said Mir. “Even though it kinda scares me.”
Weldon took her hand between his and turned it palm up, brushing his thumb across her palm. The feeling of his touch was strangely soothing, and the thrumming in her stomach settled to a gentle hum. Weldon’s gaze was open and hopeful, vulnerability sketched around his eyes. He could really hurt me, Mir thought, but I think I could smash him to pieces if I wanted to. It was a frightening and exhilarating thought.
“I like you too,” Weldon said.
He smiled, real and warm.
“I want to get to know you better, if that’s okay.”
“It’s okay,” said Mir.
They sat at the Starbucks corner table until their drinks went completely cold, their heads bent together over their clasped hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mir sat half sprawled on the couch in her parents’ living room, willing herself not to fall asleep. Gotta get used to getting up early, she thought grimly. Can’t take naps, gotta adjust to this new sleep schedule. I can do it. A blanket of exhausted numbness washed over her. All she wanted was to roll sideways, press her cheek into the couch cushion, and sleep forever. Mir leaned to her right, then heard her mother’s voice, calling from the kitchen.
“Miriam,” said Stella, “why is Raleigh standing in our front yard? Did she forget how doorknobs work?”
Mir sat upright abruptly, her stomach lurching. The fight flooded back into her mind, the finality of Raleigh turning away from her, hand entangled in Jamie’s. It had seemed so much like an ending she and Raleigh had been racing toward for the past year.
Stella’s head poked into the living room, peering at Mir.
“Are you going to go ask her to come inside? When was the last time she even came over here? You two usually hang out at her place.”
“She has the good internet.” Mir stood up, trying to ignore the nervous feeling jangling in the pit of her stomach. “She has Netflix.”
“Ah, yes, we are so bereft, here in the land of dial-up,” Stella said, eyeing Mir as she walked through the kitchen to stare out the front window. Raleigh’s familiar form was a few steps away from the porch, her hands stuffed into jean pockets, looking up at the house.
“Is everything okay with you two?” Stella said from behind Mir.
“No,” Mir said.
“Can you work it out?”
Mir shrugged, thinking of the fight. Evan yelling, Jamie yelling, Raleigh turning away from her.
“I don’t know.” She walked to the door and pushed it open, stepping out onto the porch. Raleigh was looking to her left, toward Stella’s vegetable garden. At the sound of Mir’s feet on the porch, Raleigh’s gaze jerked back toward the front of the house. Mir stood opposite her, waiting. Raleigh looked down, took a deep breath, then looked back up at Mir.
“My boyfriend has consistently been a total asshole to you for … well, a really long time,” Raleigh said. “I kept … I kept not seeing it. I guess I didn’t want to see it. But I should have, and I’m reall
y sorry.”
Raleigh ducked her head, as though keeping eye contact with Mir was painful.
“I should have told him to stop, that what he was doing was garbage,” Raleigh said, and Mir caught the fracture in her voice. “I should have defended you. You’re my best friend. I mean … you were. If I hadn’t … y’know, ruined everything.”
“It wasn’t okay,” Mir said softly. “I know I kept telling you everything was okay, but it wasn’t and I was afraid to say something. I mean, you’re in love with him. I thought you’d choose him over me.”
Raleigh nodded grimly.
“Yeah,” she said. “I am in love with him. My boyfriend treats my best friend like dirt and I’m still in love with him. I’m the worst.”
Mir stood on the porch, waiting. In front of her the sun was slanting downward, brightly painting the edges of the Sandford skyline. Raleigh had her back to the sun, shadows gathering across her face.
“I told Jamie he has to apologize to you,” Raleigh said. “I wanted to come and talk to you first, to see if it was okay for him to apologize. If you don’t want to see him or me again ever, I understand. But I wanted…” The fracture spread through Raleigh’s voice, splintering it. She took another breath and continued.
“You’ve been the best friend I could’ve ever asked for. You deserve all the cool things, and I hope you get to run the world someday.”
“I don’t think I want to run the world,” Mir said. “That seems like way too much responsibility.”
Raleigh laughed, wiping at her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.
“Yeah, it does,” she said, shrugging. “But I believe you could do it. Anyway, I should go—”
“You don’t have to go,” Mir said. She sat down on the porch steps, wrapping her arms around her legs. Raleigh turned away, but only to sit on the step beside Mir. She rested her elbows on her knees, looking out over the yard in front of her. A small part of Mir ached to reach out, to touch Raleigh’s shoulder, anything to prove that things would be fine. But she still felt the presence of the fight, the heaviness hanging over her shoulders, pressing her downward.
“I don’t think it’s ever going to be the same between us,” Mir said. “I don’t think it can be.” Images flickered into Mir’s mind, all the little moments with Jamie over the past year. His words that pushed her deliberately away from Raleigh, all his sharp edges that caught on Mir.
“Yeah,” Raleigh said softly. “I know.” She pushed a hand through her hair, shoving brown curls away from her lightly tanned face. “Can I tell you a story?”
“Sure,” said Mir.
“Do you remember that summer when you and your parents took that monthlong vacation?”
Mir rubbed a hand across her knee, looking at Raleigh out of the corner of her eye.
“Yeah. We drove down to New Brunswick and Maine. We camped a bit. It rained a lot. I think I was twelve?”
“Thirteen. It was the summer before we went into high school,” said Raleigh. “It was the longest we’d ever been apart. I saw you every day at school. On weekends you’d come to my house or I’d come to your house and your mom would make us eat all those horrible vegetables.”
“Yeah,” said Mir, remembering Raleigh’s face scrunching up in horror as Stella piled homegrown green beans on her plate.
“I swear I hate squash so much because in seventh grade your mom served it to us for dinner for, like, two weeks straight. I have squash PTSD. I’m never going to be able to eat squash again.” Raleigh looked down, picking at an invisible thread on her jeans. She was smiling a little.
“Yeah,” said Mir again.
“I remember when you told me you were going to be away for that month in the summer. You were really mad. You didn’t want to go. Stuck in a car with your parents and your brother for weeks. You tried to convince your parents to let you stay with me, but of course they said no. I remember being so upset because I couldn’t imagine going so long without you. A month without seeing you, without telling you something that was important to me.”
Mir stared at the tops of her knees. Raleigh’s words seemed to be coming from far away.
“For the first few days you were gone, it was horrible. I had this ache in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know who to talk to when I had something to say. You know my mom, she’s kinda—she’s kinda hard to talk to.”
Mir remembered coming home from the vacation, her family piling out of the car, exhausted from the long hours spent crammed together. Nate was cranky and Henry snapped at him when he grumbled about bringing the luggage inside. Mir couldn’t wait to see Raleigh. She had thought of Raleigh constantly for the final few hours of the drive home, feeling a fierce tugging sensation the closer they got to Sandford. She dragged her duffel bag into the house and dumped it on her bed. Stella was already in the kitchen, tiredly putting together a dinner of boxed mac and cheese. Mir had stood behind her, swaying back and forth, hurting for Raleigh. Stella had turned around and seen the anxious look on Mir’s face.
She’d sighed and made a shooing motion with her hands, and Mir tore off down the road. She ran the entire way to Raleigh’s house, arriving sweaty and out of breath. Raleigh had been watching TV. When she looked up at Mir, her face seemed different, as though she’d grown a year in the month Mir had been away.
“Oh,” Raleigh had said, “I thought you weren’t back until next week.”
Now, sitting on the porch of her parents’ house, Mir hugged her knees.
“I remember that,” she said.
“I knew you were going to leave Sandford, even then,” Raleigh said. “I knew it in my tiny tween lizard brain. You were so much better than me at school, and you were always looking forward, always thinking about stuff that you wanted in the future. We were thirteen years old, and you had a savings account to pay for university tuition. You were already collecting pamphlets from different schools. I mean, who does that when they’re a kid?”
“I did,” Mir said, half to herself. The memory warmed her. She remembered opening up her first savings account at the bank, feeling safe and happy whenever she deposited the money she got from her parents for babysitting Nate.
Raleigh continued.
“I didn’t—I don’t really want you to go. It would be nice if you stayed here in Sandford with me and Evan, but I know better. And I knew I had to figure out a way to be okay with you leaving. I guess that summer trip was me taking that first step. But I didn’t want”—Raleigh dragged in a ragged breath—“I never wanted it to happen like this. Where I screwed things up because I couldn’t see that my boyfriend is jealous of you. I always thought that … I don’t know, you’d leave, and I’d have this friend in Toronto or Montreal or wherever. And I’d get to visit.”
They sat in silence, watching the sun slip downward, toward the Sandford skyline.
“Do you want to leave too?” Mir said. It was something she’d never thought about, that Raleigh, who always seemed so grounded and content, might want to escape Sandford too.
“No,” said Raleigh. “This is my home. It’s where I’m supposed to be, I think. But it still sucks getting left behind, you know?” Raleigh stared down at her hands, her fingers spread over her knees. “I’d go back and change everything about this past year if I could. If I had the power of … who’s the TomorrowMan who can travel through time?”
“The Mage of Ages,” Mir said. “He time travels using the power of Excalibur, which never really made sense to me.”
“None of those superheroes make sense,” Raleigh said. “But I still loved their TV shows.” She stood up, brushing off the butt of her jeans. She turned toward Mir, her face falling deeper into shadow. “You’re going to do such amazing things, Mir,” Raleigh said softly.
“I’m going to try,” Mir said. “Raleigh, it might…” She paused. Raleigh stood in front of her, waiting. Mir still felt that heavy weight on her shoulders, all the hurt that had culminated over the past year. But just now the pressure had eased ever so
slightly. “It might be okay if you visited me in Toronto.”
Raleigh blinked, her eyes suddenly bright.
“Really?”
“Maybe. I don’t know how I’ll feel after we graduate, but I think it might be okay.” Raleigh smiled, and the fondness in her expression made Mir’s heart ache.
Mir watched Raleigh walk away, feeling like a cloth that had been wrung dry. She stood and walked back inside her house, to where her mother was waiting in the kitchen. Stella opened up her arms to her daughter, and Mir slipped into the embrace, wordlessly.
* * *
The first Monday of Mir’s new job came swiftly. Her alarm buzzed at 5:00 a.m., and it took every ounce of strength not to slap it silent and go back to sleep. The night before, she’d prepared a lunch and left it in a paper bag in the fridge, a pink don’t touch, miriam’s sticky note stuck to the outside of the bag. Nate had a habit of consuming everything in the fridge that wasn’t claimed by sticky notes. Mir had gone to bed early but had lain awake staring at the ceiling, growing more and more frantic as the hours ticked by. The grit in her eyes was a testament to how little she’d slept.
Mir staggered out the front door of her house. It was still dark outside, but a line of sunlight was creeping along the rim of the horizon. Mir couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the sun rise.
She woke up as she walked toward the golf course, feeling almost alert as she approached the bridge. To her surprise, Weldon was leaning against the supporting column of the bridge. His face brightened when he saw her.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” said Mir, remembering the feeling of his fingers brushing against the palm of her hand.
“I wanted to wish you good luck on your first day of work,” said Weldon. “And maybe I can walk you home afterward? We could get coffee, if you’re still awake. If you don’t want to take a nap immediately.”
“No naps,” said Mir. “Gotta try to get a proper early morning sleep schedule going, may God have mercy on my soul.”
Comics Will Break Your Heart Page 18
