I think I made a few friends. I can’t tell if they just pity me or if they genuinely enjoy my company. Everything would be so much better if you could be here though! I miss my boyfriend. It would be so nice showing you around, and being able to hang out every day. Maybe, I’d even sneak into your dorm. ;)
I wish summer hadn’t ended.
I love you.
Emily
It’s almost midnight when I finish Mason’s letter, I glance down at my handiwork and smile. Stacks of paper with green, red, blue and yellow writing sits in front of me. I pop The Princess Diaries into the DVD player on my laptop and start assembling the rest of the package (Pop Rockets, Fun Dips, Doritos, and lots of chocolate).
Chapter Seven
The following morning I wake up late and rush down to the cafeteria before they stop serving breakfast. My whole day feels thrown off and out of whack if I eat something other than breakfast food as soon as I wake up, even if it is almost noon. The cafeteria is practically empty when I arrive, a few students stand in line getting food. I glance at our usual table and am pleased to see Ian sitting there. I walk to the cereal bar and pour a big bowl of Cocoa Puffs and then join Ian.
“Good morning, Sunshine.” Ian whistles and I’m vaguely aware of my messy hair, baggy sweatpants and makeup streaking down my face. I debated showering before eating, but in the end, my stomach won. He reaches over and steals a Cocoa Puff from my bowl.
“Fantastic!" I stomp my foot. “Now I have to get another bowl.”
Ian’s shoulders sag. “Sorry, I didn’t think it would bother you.”
I pull out the chair next to him, put my bowl down and sit. “Oh, it doesn’t. I just wanted to see your reaction, and it was priceless.”
I scoop a spoonful of Cocoa Puffs into my mouth. He leans back in his chair, puts his hands behind his head and laughs. His laugh is soft and calm like the after-tide brushing against the sand.
I spin my spoon around my bowl. “I wish there was more variety though.”
“Like what?”
I cover my mouth with my hand to hide a yawn. “Apple Jacks, ooh, or Fruit Loops!”
He pulls his face up and sticks his tongue out. “Blah,” he says pretending like he’s gagging. “Fruity cereals are disgusting, not to mention they’re so bad for you.”
I stare at him. “Yeah? And so is like every other sugary cereal.”
“But the food dyes in those cereals are like super bad.” He protests. “That’s why fruity cereals are banned in most European countries.”
I wink at him. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re in America.”
Liam and Calliope walk over to the table and join us.
"Where was Sarah last night?” Calliope asks, sitting down next to me. “I thought we were all going to meet up downtown.”
“Something came up,” Ian says. “She said she felt really bad about canceling and promises we’ll all get together soon.”
Liam glances at Ian, wearily, but doesn’t say anything.
“Oh, good.” Calliope beams. “I can’t wait to hear what life’s like after graduation. You’re going to love Sarah,” Calliope says, turning towards me.
“I can’t wait to meet her. Sorry, I didn’t hang out with you all last night.”
“What did you do instead?” Ian asks.
“Nothing much. I stayed in, organized my room, talked with my family and wrote a friend.”
“Thrilling!” Liam chuckles. “You really know how to party.”
I roll my eyes.
“Have you gone out to see the city?” Calliope asks.
“I went out with Danielle when I got here.”
“And since then?” She prompts.
“Sure.” I lie. “Danielle took me to the store on Monday.”
Calliope shakes her head. “A trip to Walmart hardly counts.”
“Hmm, so let me get this straight,” Liam says, placing his fist under his chin like The Thinker. “You’ve been here for two weeks and you’ve yet to explore the city?”
“I’ve been chased down by a guy dressed as Spiderman, gotten off at the wrong stop on the subway and I see bits and pieces of the city every morning walking to campus.”
Why are they making such a big deal out of this?
“What are your plans for tonight?” Ian asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, slowly emphasizing each word and gritting my teeth. “It’s only been a week.”
“Uh-huh.” Ian looks away and changes the subject, letting me off the hook.
When I get back to my dorm I decide to email Mads to see how things are going with school and how babysitting Sammy is going, but most of all I want to check up on my mom. I hate my father for sending me away. I wish I could be home to hold my mom's hand after each chemo round. I wish I could make her laugh again, but instead, I'm stuck in this sinkhole, miles away.
My laptop bleeps, a little black box appears on the screen, informing me I have a video call from Mason. I hastily throw a hoodie on and clean up the makeup around my eyes from last night, before accepting the call. Mason would freak if he knew I was still in my pajamas, even if I am planning on staying in my dorm all day. He expects me to look my best whenever we hang out, even if we are just watching a movie together at my house.
His face fills the screen and I smile greedily. My heart tugs in my chest. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen his cute dimpled-face.
“Hey, there,” Mason says. And, just like that, I can’t remember how to breathe. His black hair is a lot longer than it was when I saw him last. It hangs around his face like Shaggy’s from Scooby-Doo. He’s wearing a black Iron Maiden shirt with a scary skull. Heavy metal plays in the background.
I squeal.
“Mason! How’s Africa? Tell me everything!”
His mouth quirks up into a smile. “Things are perfect. My friend Amanda has a fantastic taste in music and is super funny. Her parents own a yacht and we’re planning on going sailing this weekend.”
My heart sinks in my chest at the mention of another girl. The way he pronounces her name makes me want to hurl my Cocoa Puffs into the trash can.
Has he forgotten about me completely?
My throat aches. I quickly wipe the tears forming in my eyes before Mason notices I’m crying. I take a deep breath and smile.
“That’s great Mason! I’ve made a lot of new friends too, and I'm really enjoying my classes. My English teacher is really—”
Mason stares at me, his eyes full of impatience.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s great. Anyway, I was telling you about how Chester saw an alligator last week in the school’s parking lot. Isn’t that wild? An alligator.” He shakes his head as if someone just told him Santa isn’t real and he’s been a firm believer all his life.
Hells Bells. Is he serious?
It’s been weeks, weeks since we’ve talked last and all he cares to talk about is himself? My hands clench at my side. I try singing “Hakuna Matata” to calm myself, but it doesn’t work.
This isn’t the way a relationship should work. Is it?
Someone knocks on my door and I almost fall out of my seat. Cyprus Hall has been so quiet the past two hours, I didn’t think anyone else was here.
“Emily?”
My heart flutters. It’s Ian.
“Who’s that?” Mason asks, his face a giant scowl. “Is that another boy?” I shrug my shoulders, although I know who’s standing on the other side of my door. Mason scoffs as I stand. “You’re not even dressed yet? Geez, Em! Isn’t it like late afternoon?”
“I have to go, Mason,” I say refusing to avert my eyes from the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He hangs up.
As soon as Mason ends the call I dart to my closet, knocking over my chair in the process. It makes a loud thud as it hits the wooden floor.
Crap! I’m not even wearing a bra.
“Are you alright?” That beautiful British accent asks and my heart speeds u
p.
“Mhm.” I hook my bra and pull on the first shirt I grab; a faded baseball style t-shirt with The Lion King Broadway picture on it. Today felt like the perfect curl-up-in-bed-and-read day and it’s not like I was planning on doing anything . . . well, at least not until Wonder Boy showed up at my door.
I hop into my jeans quickly and then answer the door. "Hey. Uh, come in."
Ian looks at me. Then he smirks.
“What?” My hands rush to my face. “Is there something on my—”
“No.” He laughs, cutting me off. “Your shirt is inside out.”
“Oh.” I feel completely mortified; apparently, I can’t even dress myself. “Give me a second?” I ask motioning for him to wait out in the hallway.
After I fix my shirt, I apply a light coating of mascara and dab some lip gloss on, before letting Ian back into my dorm. He walks around my room slowly, looking at the bare white walls, perfectly aligned books, and jars full of Starburst wrappers lining the top of my bookshelf. He stops at my desk and picks up the picture of Mason and me from junior prom. Mason's hair is a disheveled mess and my corsage is droopy and limp. We're both sweaty and tired, but you can tell we're happy.
“Is this your boyfriend?” His voice is soft, almost inaudible. It almost sounds like he’s hurt.
But why should he care when he’s dating Sarah?
“Yeah.” I smile sheepishly. It’s quiet for a few seconds, and my room suddenly feels a lot smaller.
“So, how did you two meet?” He asks, but doesn’t look at me. His thumb rubs the corner of the picture frame.
“Uh.” I shift my feet and then sit on my bed. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “At the hospital, actually.”
“Really?” He meets my gaze. “What happened?”
“Oh, nothing really.” Part of me wants to tell Ian about my mom, but I’m too scared to talk about it aloud. I’m worried uttering those dreadful words, will somehow make her cancer resurface. “I was visiting a family member. I went down to the cafeteria to get some food, and there he was.”
“Oh. Cool.” He puts the picture down. “How long have you—”
“Sorry.” I giggle. “I didn’t mean to cut you off. How did you and Sarah meet?”
“Just here at school.” He flashes me that breathtaking smile and puts his hand out. “C’mon. We’re going to the park.”
Ian is inches away from me as we walk to Adam’s Park. I try to concentrate on the cracks in the sidewalk, and not Wonder Boy walking next to me.
I love Mason, I love Mason . . . so why is it so hard to be next to Ian?
I barely know him. And, I don’t want to feel this way around him. I want things to be normal. I want to be his friend, not another girl pining after him only to get her hopes crushed. He has a girlfriend, and I have Mason. And, that’s the way it should be.
Ian leads me out to an opening in the field, unzips his backpack and pulls out an oddly shaped ball. “This,” he says, holding up the ball, “is a rugby ball.”
“It looks like a wonky shaped football.”
“Oh. Rugby is so much better than American football.”
“How?” I cross my arms, challenging him.
“Well,” Ian says. “Let’s just say rugby is a lot more intense and far more interesting. Besides football is soccer, anyway.”
I nod.
Every time I hear his accent my heart does a little flutter and my brain forgets how to operate. I’m silent for a few seconds as I try to calm myself and gather my thoughts.
“That’s only because you’ve never been to a real football game. If you grew up in my hometown, then you would understand why Americans eat, breath and live football.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” I reach out to shove him, but think better of it and awkwardly drop my hand.
“So how does this work?” I ask, pointing to the ball, Ian and me. Ian slides off his sandals and kicks the ball. It flies over the telephone pole.
“Ouch.” I wince. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
Ian smiles at me and shakes his head. “Not when you’ve been playing all your life.” He runs to grab the ball and my eyes follow him. The muscles in his calves are chiseled and toned. I want to trace my fingers across them. He starts walking back and I quickly avert my eyes.
“I was thinking we could just kick it around for a bit.” He hands me the ball. “Wanna try?”
“Sure, but what do I do?”
Ian places the ball on the ground in front of me and then walks behind me.
“First,” he says, his body presses against my back. Shivers run up my spine, as my pulse quickens. Calm, down Emily. He's just a friend, nothing else. But oh, Hells Bells he smells wonderful like vanilla and pine and Tide detergent. And, that accent is to die for! How on earth am I supposed to control myself around him?
"You need to stand straight, like this." He grabs my arms, then my waist as he starts to position me. My heart thumps loudly in my chest.
Get a grip girl.
He leans down and touches the top of my right shoe. "Try to only hit the ball with this part of your foot."
I feel woozy and lightheaded. "Okay."
My first attempt at kicking the ball is horrible. The ball barely comes off the ground. It does a pathetic jump and then rolls away. I glance at Ian to see if he’s laughing, but instead, he says, “That was great!”
I glare at him. “You’re full of it.”
He puts his hands up as if to surrender. “No.” He shakes his head. “It was good, I swear.”
We spend some more time kicking the rugby ball back and forth and then head to a shady spot under the trees. I lie on my back, put my hands behind my head and look up at the sky. It's a sunny afternoon; A few clouds scatter across the sky, birds chirp in the tree above us, and squirrels scamper up the tree trunks.
I look at Ian. Why is it so easy to be around him?
He’s so carefree. It feels like I can be myself around him like I don’t have to try to impress him. It feels like he likes me for me, and that’s how things used to be with Mason. But things got complicated over the summer, and I don’t know how to fix them.
Whenever Mason and I are together I always feel I have to be on my best behavior. Even today while we were video chatting, I felt embarrassed to not live up to the standard of perfection he expects from me. That’s why I threw a hoodie on before accepting the call, I didn’t want him to know how dressed down I was.
Lately, things have only gotten worse between us, since he’s moved to Africa. We don’t talk as frequently and even when we do I barely get a word in. He always wants to talk about himself, and never cares what I have to say. In fact, sometimes he gets downright mad if I try telling him about what’s going on in my life.
Ian, on the other hand, is completely different. We’ve done nothing but talk since he arrived at my dorm. He asked me about my Starburst wrapper collection, my obsession with Disney and wanted to know what Ohio is like. I told him about my mom (minus her cancer), Mads and Sammy. All day he asked me question after question, and I’m probably boring him to death, yet he’s shown nothing but interest in what I have to say.
Ian sees me staring at him. His face spreads into a wide, crooked grin. My face turns bright red.
Can he read my thoughts?
I point dumbly to a cloud. “That one looks like a dragon.”
Ian looks confused. “Nope. I don’t see it.”
I trace the ‘dragon’ with my finger, even though the cloud looks nothing like a dragon. “It’s right there.”
I glance at the sun poking through the trees, trying to sort out my feelings once and for all. It doesn’t matter how Ian makes me feel, I love Mason and we are going to grow old together, and Ian . . . I’m not exactly sure what Ian is to me yet, but he has Sarah, and they seem happy together, so does it really matter?
“Can I read your fortune?” Ian asks, rolling onto his stomach. His face is inches from mine as he r
eaches for my hand.
Breathe. Emily, you have to breathe. He is just a friend.
“Sure,” I say, slowly. He grabs my hand, faces it palm up and then intensely stares at it. Little tingles shoot through my body as his fingers brush against my palm. I close my eyes and sing “A Whole New World,” trying to slow down my thumping heart and control my breathing.
When I open my eyes Ian is looking at me. I raise my eyebrows. He traces a long line on my palm. “This line means a major change is about to happen in your life.”
I pull my hand away, my thoughts instantly on my mom. “Er, right,” I mutter. “What does your palm say?”
He holds his hand out so I can see his palm, too. “See how these lines form an ‘M’?”
I nod.
“I’m going to get married soon,” he states like he’s listing off the elements in the periodic table.
“Oh. I didn’t realize Sarah and you were that serious.”
He makes a face like he’s in pain. I’m not sure what to say.
His phone vibrates on the grass next to him. He rolls over to his side, glances at the screen and the color drains from his face.
“Ian, what’s wrong?” I ask as he starts shoving his rugby ball back inside of his bag.
He ignores me and presses the phone to his ear. “Sarah, slow down. Chelsea doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Ian looks at me his eyes full of panic, and motions that he needs to go. I stand up and follow him back to the dorms. Ian pauses, while Sarah replies on the other end of the phone. “I went to the park to play some rugby and I wanted to show my new friend around.”
The park is quiet as we make our way back to Cyprus Hall. The volume on Ian’s phone must be up all the way because I can just barely make out Sarah’s voice and she sounds furious. “Are you with another girl right now?”
“Yeah, but it’s not like that, I swear. She’s just started at Baldwin Hill and I wanted to show her around.”
“You were supposed to come to my bake off today, but instead you’re waltzing through the town with some other girl?” She asks, her voice rising an octave.
The Missing Piece Page 5
