Out of Character

by Annabeth Albert

  “Wow.” I’d done my own thinking during our time apart that evening, but he might have outdone me in the profound realization department. My neck relaxed, a tension I hadn’t even known I’d been holding ebbing away. “Thank you.”

  “So this is me, asking. Not telling. Not trying to solve the problem. What are you going to do?”

  “I think you already know.” I pointed at the car.

  “You’re going to sell it?” Jasper put deliberate emphasis on the word sell, a question, not a statement.

  “It’s the right thing to do. And you made me see that.” I pulled him closer, both because of the cold and because his nearness made it easier to make these big confessions.

  “I did?”

  “When you said that I didn’t have to handle things myself, I realized the opposite. I need to handle this. I spent weeks running from the real solution. And not simply the owning up to Bruno part—you’re not wrong there either—but I have the way to make this right.”

  “But it’s your dad’s legacy. You said that yourself. It’s the one thing you can’t part with.” Jasper bit his lip like he was trying hard not to be too argumentative.

  “And maybe it’s the one thing I should,” I countered. I’d been round and round on this point in my own head, but saying it aloud actually helped me to feel more definite about the idea. Mom liked to go on about how people like Dad and Nona were guardian angels now. And I’d never bought that, especially in the case of Dad who could have done a lot more protecting when he was alive. I was done elevating him to a pedestal he didn’t deserve. However, if he were watching over me, was it so terrible to use the car to ensure my future?

  “If I sell, I might get enough to replace the cards and to help make finding a new place to live easier. Maybe even have something left over to take a few art classes. I can make my dreams come true, at least some of them.”

  “You can make your dreams come true even without the car, but I get what you’re saying.” Jasper exhaled, his breath warm against my neck. “I hate to think of you parting with it though. Your dad wanted you to have it.”

  “And I did. I kept it even when I probably should have sold it to repay Bruno after the accident. I kept it even when I was scared to drive it. But like you said the other day, I’m not fourteen anymore. I can’t live my life by what he would have wanted for me. He wouldn’t have wanted any of this.” I did a broad, sweeping gesture encompassing myself.

  “He didn’t know what he was missing.” Jasper gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, but I turned in to him so that our mouths met, more comfort than sizzle, but so very necessary right then.

  “Thank you.” I hugged him against me. “I mean that. Thank you. And you do see me. You see all the parts he didn’t. And I’m done trying to hide the real me. The truth is that he wasn’t a very good dad—”

  Jasper was quick to cut me off. “He wasn’t terr—”

  “Yeah, he kinda was.” I appreciated him trying to be tactful, but I was done with dancing around the facts. “It’s okay. We can say it now. He was narrow-minded and mean. And yeah we built that car together and not all my memories are bad, but that’s okay. I’ll keep the good times. Now I’m going to use what he left me to have the life I want—need, even if it’s not one he would have agreed with.”

  “Okay.” Jasper nodded like he’d finished a page of equations and was happy with the solution, even if it wasn’t the one he’d wanted. “So you’ll sell it then?”

  “Yup.” As I said it aloud, a weight rolled off me, like leaving all my winter gear behind to enjoy spring and summer. I was free.

  “You were so sure that I’d object that you couldn’t tell me the plan back at the store?” There was no mistaking the hurt in Jasper’s voice, and I didn’t blame him. Walking away had been a dick move on my part.

  “That and I thought I wanted to be alone to do this. Solve everything on my own, and then come to you with it all fixed. Be more worthy of you. But then my leg started to ache on the walk here—”

  “Oh crap.” Jasper flipped from justifiably annoyed at me to worried. “Do you need—”

  “It’s fine.” I waved off his concern. “And then this car passed me, full of rowdy teenagers. A soda can landed right near my feet.”

  “I should have—”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m the one who left. My point is that I was cold and my leg hurt and these kids were laughing at me out the window. And then I thought, ‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Because if I was trying to make a point about how I could do it all on my own, I was doing a shit job at it.”

  “Wanting to be self-sufficient isn’t a bad goal. I get that desire. I do.” Jasper was so earnest, I very nearly had to kiss him again, but I wasn’t done yet.

  “Thanks. But what I realized in that moment was that I was acting exactly like my dad would have. Angry. Storming off alone. Insisting on no help.”

  “Oh, Milo.”

  “But maybe there’s a better way. Maybe I don’t have to do it entirely on my own.” I exhaled hard, because this was tricky, the balance between being needy and being resourceful, between being a loner and being independent, and between being stubborn and being smart. Even now I wasn’t sure I had it right.

  “You don’t have to do it all. But I don’t think you’re in the wrong for wanting to. And I was trying to take over a bit. I get why you needed me to back off.” Jasper’s expression was as earnest as I had seen it as he held my gaze. “You’re not your dad. You’re never going to be your dad. You’re a way better person and always have been.”

  “Maybe not always.” Unable to keep looking at him, I studied my scuffed shoe.

  “No, I mean it.” Jasper tilted my chin up with his fingers. “Unlike him, you’ve owned up to your mistakes.”

  “I’m trying.” I met his determined gaze, wanting to convey how much it meant that he believed in me.

  “You’re doing a good job.”

  “Thanks.” That did it. I had to give him another kiss, this one more lingering. “And maybe it’s okay to admit when I need help.”

  “And when you don’t. It needs to be your plan.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “So tell me what the plan is and how I can help. I want to help.” Jasper squeezed my arm.

  “I figured I’d wait until morning, then take the car to my dad’s friend, the one storing Bruno’s car, find out what a fair price would be, hope I don’t get screwed—”

  “Is this the part where I can offer help?” Jasper was practically bouncing next to me, a sure sign that he’d had a big idea.

  “You can offer to help.”

  “I might not be a car guy, but I am an expert at pricing rare items and at research. I can make sure you’re getting a good deal. If you want, I mean.”

  “I want.” I kissed his temple. “I do want your help, and I want you.”

  That little speech earned me another kiss from him. The paver was cold under my butt and the air still nippy, but things were heating up right where they counted. In Jasper’s parents’ yard. In the middle of the night. Oops. I pulled away, breathing hard, and he laughed.

  “And we can cross-check my research with Professor Tuttle tonight. He knows classic cars. If that’s okay.”

  “It’s okay. What I realized is I don’t have to do it all on my own and neither do you.”

  “Assemble the team!” Jasper pumped a fist upward like his invisible cape might carry him skyward.

  “Shh.” I was laughing too hard to do a good job quieting him. “Dork.”

  “You—”

  “Love you. Yeah. I just might.” I went ahead and said it because maybe he needed to hear it. And maybe I needed to say it. “And yes, assemble the team. The dynamic duo rides at dawn.”

  “Maybe not dawn.” He yawned wide. “How about first some sleep,
then we save the world?”

  “Deal.” I still didn’t have all the answers and neither did he. I had no idea how things were going to turn out—the car, the cards, Bruno, my living situation—all of it. But I knew I had Jasper, and that was what truly mattered.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jasper

  “Oh, good. You’re here.” Professor Tuttle was laughing, expression sly as he opened his door. “What we need is a heist.”

  As the professor moved aside so we could enter, Milo leaned in close, whispering, “When I said assemble the team, I didn’t mean criminal masterminds. We can’t let the old guys get arrested on my behalf.”

  “They won’t.” Of that I was pretty sure, and I sneaked a quick pat on his back as we shed our coats. He was still a little jumpy after our late-night soul-baring conversation. Professor Tuttle being apparently ready for grand larceny was not helping matters.

  “A heist?” I asked louder.

  “A cookie heist.” Professor Herrera came into the hall, drying his hands on a dish towel. “They’re cooling. And none until after your game and after the snack I’m making.”

  “Darn.” Professor Tuttle gave him such a fond look that my stomach cramped from the sweetness. Maybe someday. Despite the lack of sleep, Milo and I had lain awake, talking more until the sun was teasing the sky, and then we’d finally drifted off for a couple of hours. Waking up with him was fast becoming my favorite thing on earth.

  “And Milo! Exactly the nongamer I was hoping to see!” Professor Herrera clapped Milo on the back. “Want to learn some new knife skills? I’m making a new sheet-pan nachos recipe with my homemade salsa.”

  “Uh. Okay. Thanks.” Milo blinked, clearly not expecting this welcome.

  “I want to hear all about this group-house situation Jasper mentioned to me too,” the professor added as he led a befuddled Milo toward the kitchen.

  “They’ll be all right,” Professor Tuttle assured me as we headed to the dining room table. Apparently not needed for the revue that night, Kellan was already there, fiddling with the cameras.

  “No Jasmine?” I asked as I set my stuff down.

  Kellan made a sad face. “She had a paper to write. Not everyone has the cupcake of a last semester schedule like you.”

  “By design.” I pulled out a deck and started shuffling while waiting for Professor Tuttle to get situated. “I front-loaded my year because I knew I’d be ready to be done.”

  “Done?” Kellan shot me a skeptical look. “Thought you were the one who wasn’t ready to graduate and move on.”

  “That was before…” My voice trailed off because so much had happened in only a few weeks. Milo. The cards. New certainty about what I wanted. “Yeah. I am ready. Bring on whatever’s next.”

  “Absolutely agree. I’ve got two interviews for summer-stock costuming positions.”

  “Seriously? That’s awesome.” I was going to miss my friends, no question. And I’d miss my family if I moved away, even a short distance, but I finally felt ready. Ready for graduation. Ready to see Kellan crushing it with Broadway and Hollywood costumes. Ready to let people move on even as I kept others close. Like Milo. As I set up my play mat, I could see us squashed into a chair together, scrolling social media, seeing where everyone else ended up. The future might still be big and scary, but it was way more hopeful now.

  “Now, Jasper.” Across from me, Professor Tuttle slapped a deck down on the table. “I have a new gambit play I want to explain and then have you demonstrate defending against.”

  The professor’s move was truly devious, and I couldn’t decide which I liked better: the play itself, which involved discarding an entire hand, or defending against it, which took a certain deftness.

  “Aha!” I crowed as I finally mastered the timing for getting my block ready. “I see your plan and not today! Countered!”

  “Excellent, Jasper,” Professor Tuttle cheered.

  “Oh, this would be perfect against cheaters like George,” Kellan observed as he gave the signal that we were off-camera again.

  Right then, Milo came to the doorway, his speculative expression revealing that he’d probably heard George’s name. I tried not to feel a pang of regret that I wouldn’t get to play hero for him, swoop in and restore Milo’s cards, and crush George in the process.

  “Food’s ready.”

  “Cookies!” Professor Tuttle skipped the nachos to take two cookies while Professor Herrera clucked at him. They were almost too cute. The rest of us made plates of food while Milo proudly explained what was in each component.

  “Did you know dicing and mincing are not the same?” Smiling shyly, he handed me a soda.

  I blinked at him, adjusting my future vision from earlier to include lots of trips to the grocery store. “I do now.”

  “Okay, you two. Tell me about this car of Milo’s and what you’ve found on the internet already.” After putting his reading glasses on, Professor Tuttle pulled out a fancy pen and a little notepad, exactly like this was one of his seminar classes.

  Milo explained the whole history of the car, its year and make, and the prerestoration condition. He then launched into everything that had been done to it as well as how he maintained it. It was a lot, and I was staggered by how much Milo had put into the car himself, not simply assisting his dad. I wanted to tug on his sleeve, to ask him if he was absolutely certain he wanted to part with this car, but I’d promised not to talk him out of this. If Milo thought selling was the right call, then I was going to support that, even as I marveled at this side to Milo I hadn’t really seen before.

  “So anyway, the heater’s really the only drawback, but it’s functional and a top-of-the-line part. Oh, and it’s clean. I’d detail it again before selling—”

  “You could perform surgery in the back seat,” I joked.

  “We don’t need to know how you’ve seen the back seat,” Kellan tossed back.

  “Gentlemen,” Professor Tuttle gently reminded us that he was still there, taking notes. “I think what you’ve found is accurate as far as asking price. But go up a few thousand. Let the buyer talk you back down. And I agree about asking the collector who’s storing your brother’s car. However, I also know a few collectors myself who won’t haggle with you too much. Can I make some calls?”

  I liked how Professor Tuttle asked instead of telling. I was trying to get better at that myself. Milo seemed to like that, too, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’d appreciate it. I need a fast sale. And not just because Bruno’s coming back. I can’t keep crashing with Jasper in the dorms.”

  “Yes, you can.” I’d go to bat with the RA myself before I let Milo sleep in his car or something else drastic.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Milo’s eyes were serious.

  “That’s a good point.” Professor Herrera stroked his chin. “I think I might have a temporary solution.”

  He and Professor Tuttle did some sort of longtime-couple-communication magic with their eyes before Professor Tuttle pronounced, “Brilliant idea. I concur.”

  “We have a spare room—”

  Milo held up a hand. “I can’t impose like that on you guys. You’ve been so nice already.”

  “Oh, this isn’t me being nice.” Professor Herrera’s eyes sparkled like he was holding a winning card and knew it. “The room is full of boxes. Boxes that I need removed if we’re going to have more guests. And since we moved our room downstairs after Gus’s fall, I’ve had a list of furniture I want rearranged, but I can’t do it on my own. Trust me, I’ll make you earn your keep while you’re visiting.”

  “I could do that,” Milo allowed, licking at his lips. The hope in his expression made my chest hurt. I wanted him to have so much more than a safe place for a couple of nights.

  “I can help. I’m good at moving stuff.” I patted his biceps. “Maybe not as good as th
ese muscles, but I can help, spare Professor Herrera’s back.”

  “But only until I find something more permanent.” Milo remained somber, regarding all of us like this were a treat that might be yanked away. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

  “Are you going to assist in eating all the odd recipe experiments Julio dreams up?” Professor Tuttle turned toward Milo, merriment sweeping across his craggy face. “You’re not taking advantage. You’re exactly what we need.”

  “Me too,” I added. And he was. He was exactly what I both needed and wanted.

  “Dude, I’m not sure whether to ask for a group hug or text Jasmine and tell her about the new epic levels of adorableness reached tonight. Maybe both.” Kellan chuckled as he grabbed another cookie. “And I’ll come help tomorrow with box-o-palooza. We can do an assembly line.”

  “Wow. You guys don’t have to help me.” Milo darted his gaze between us, still looking wary, like the offer might evaporate any second.

  “We want to,” Kellan and I said in unison.

  “Thanks.” Under the table, Milo tapped my foot with his.

  “Did you want to stay tonight or did you have…plans?” Professor Herrera raised an eyebrow in my direction as he spoke to Milo.

  Milo glanced at me. We weren’t as skilled at the whole wordless conversation yet, so I spoke up. “He has plans.”

  “But tomorrow.” Milo had turned a delightful shade of pink at the mere implication of sleeping together. “We can’t expect your RA to ignore us forever.”

  “Sounds good.” Professor Herrera led us in cleaning up before Professor Tuttle got too worn out. Milo proved what an awesome house guest he was going to be as he washed the big pots while Kellan and I put stuff away. Meanwhile, the professors worked putting their dining room to rights again.

  “I saw George last night backstage at the revue,” Kellan said as we worked. “He was talking smack. Are you gonna put him in his place? I wanna see that.”

  “No. Probably not.” I couldn’t keep the regret from my tone, and I very carefully avoided looking at Milo.