I closed my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek. She always did this—baited me, hoping I would bring a girl along.
“No, Mom, ten’s fine,” I said, glancing over at Luke. He was sitting upside down on the chesterfield, absorbed in some psychological thriller. Up until Mom had called, I’d been reading too. His worn copy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I wasn’t really a reader, but Luke laughed when I’d told him that. “I’ve seen your English grades, C. You can read just fine.”
“Oh,” Mom replied, disappointed. “Okay. We’ll leave it then.”
“Ten?” Luke asked after she and I hung up. “For what?”
I rejoined him on the couch, slumping so that I could rest my head back against the cool leather. Luke shifted so his legs were now across my lap. “Just this dinner,” I answered, stomach churning a little. “On Saturday, after my game. She and my dad always take Nick and me and some hockey guys to Bistro.”
“Ah,” Luke said. “So it’s a team thing.”
I nodded as I swiped into my phone and quickly texted Mom: Actually 11. I’ll bring Sage.
Wonderful, she responded with a smiley emoji. I can’t wait to see her!
Not only did Bexley love the idea of Sage and me together, but so did my parents. I imagined Mom already having a box of pictures labeled Wedding Slideshow.
“Is Emma going?” Luke asked.
“Yeah,” I said. Since yes, Emma was coming. Nick had invited her.
“Because she’s team manager…?”
“Right,” I lied. “Because she’s our manager.”
Luke was quiet, like he knew I was lying. I’m sorry, I wanted to say. But not yet. My parents…I could barely control myself around Luke already. I had to mentally straitjacket myself these days, so I didn’t fiddle with his fingers during lunch or slide an arm around him as we walked to class. Sometimes I imagined myself actually doing it, but then my heart would clench. No, I’d think, scared shitless. No one can know.
Because they’d be merciless. Tristan Andrews had been whispered about for weeks when he arrived on campus as a freshman (you just sort of knew with him), and even though Luke had held his head high, he had too. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.
“Well, that actually reminds me,” Luke said, “I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the game. I have a history paper due Tuesday.”
“What?” I said. “Really?” I liked having Luke in the crowd, liked seeing him airborne after jumping off the bleachers when we scored. That goal was for you, I’d texted him from the locker room last week, in between periods. Bet you said that to all the girls, he’d texted back (but then later in his room, he declared hockey was the best sport and threw himself at me).
“Yup.” He lifted his leg and lightly kneed me in the jaw. “I’d like to bang it out this weekend.”
“But we’ll see each other later?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “If I make decent progress, sure.”
“And if I’m not held captive at dinner,” I mumbled.
Luke glanced up from his book. “Then don’t be,” he said. “If you don’t want to be held captive, C, then don’t be. It’s your life.” He kneed me again. “They’ll understand.”
But would they? I wondered. Would they understand?
* * *
Bexley ended up winning the game 4–3, and I felt like a douchebag by the time our appetizers were served. Sage had steered us away from Nick and Emma, but I caught her sneaking peeks at my brother. She wasn’t just fooling around with him, I realized once her hand found mine under the table. Whatever they had, it meant as much to her as it did to Nick.
I cringed when I remembered what I’d said to her, and worried that it was now too late to fix things between them. Don’t center the conversation at dinner around Emma, Nick texted our family group chat today. She gets shy sometimes. Please be cool.
He actually liked her; this was more than just a homecoming date. Nick was trying to move on, and I’d guess it was working based on the way he’d introduced her to our parents, smiling proudly with a hand on her lower back. “Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend, Emma.”
He also wasn’t returning any of Sage’s stolen looks.
Not that it was easy to keep track—our table was loud and full, Nick and the guys trying to talk over one another. “I’m glad your last slapper went in,” Dad told Cody when things calmed down some. “Because, man, those refs…” He let out a low whistle. “Absolutely terrible. I’d say your buddy Jack had the best heckle of the game.”
“‘Get off your knees, ref!’” Paddy quoted. “‘So you can stop blowing the game!’”
They all cracked up, Emma giggling alongside them. Mom shook her head, but even she was fighting a smile. “Really, Jay?” she said as my spine straightened. “Really?”
“And who was that one Ames kid?” Dad asked once we got our entrees. I glanced down at my chicken piccata; my swishing stomach not interested. “Number nineteen?”
“Dan Richards, left wing,” Nick said automatically. He knew every prep school player and their stats. “What about him?”
“Nothing,” Dad said. “Just that he…”
“Twirls,” Paddy said, snorting. “He twirls instead of sprints, like he’s figure skating.”
“That’s because he figure skated growing up,” Emma chimed in, her cheeks pinkening a little. She knew her stats too. And did extra research.
More laughter, but it was drowned out by this buzzing noise in my ears. I felt myself slump down in my chair when I saw Dad open his mouth, which was when Sage decided to come to life, straightening her shoulders. “Don’t come at men’s figure skating, Mr. Carmichael,” she said firmly. “If I’m remembering correctly, you lost it when Nathan Chen choked in PyeongChang, and cheered the loudest when Adam Rippon won his bronze.”
Everyone was silent until Dad chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare, Sage.” He raised his beer. “To Chen’s comeback in 2022!”
Mom toasted her wine. “Hear, hear!”
Meanwhile, I slipped away to the bathroom, sagging back against the door after I’d locked it behind me. It was a one-person sort of deal. “How’s it going?” I asked when Luke answered his phone.
“In the library, starting the footnotes,” he said. “What’s up?”
I swallowed. “We’re still seeing each other later?”
“If you hang up and let me finish, yeah.”
“Okay, cool,” I said, and then asked, “Was it a pain to write?”
“Nah, pretty straightforward. I’m not sure it’s my best effort, but it’s done.”
I shook my head. “I bet it’s groundbreaking.”
“Well, I’d read it first,” Luke said, “before such a sweeping declaration.”
I laughed. “I miss you,” I murmured, even though that was stupid. Luke and I had seen each other at breakfast. I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds…”
“Would you like to stay over tonight?” he asked.
Would you like to stay over tonight? I ran a hand through my hair, wishing everyone wasn’t right down the hall. But another part of me didn’t care, didn’t care at all. Just thinking of Luke made my heart ignite. He made everything better. Everything would be better when I saw him.
“I mean, you’re allowed to do that, right?” Luke went on. “Sleep over in other houses?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “But we need to get permission.” I’d done it a few times this year to sleep in Nick’s room. All I had to do was text my housemaster, Mr. Fowler.
Luke laughed. “So get permission.”
I let out a deep breath. “Should I bring my sleeping bag?”
“Yeah, plus your pillow.”
“And you’ll handle the snacks?”
“Only if you have a few ghost stories prepared.”
I smiled
. “They always were my specialty.”
* * *
We were all over each other about two seconds after Luke’s door slammed shut, once the lock had clicked into place. I was still in my coat and tie from the game, so he helped me shuck off my blazer while I unbuttoned his black peacoat. “That was really impressive,” he breathed when it hit the floor.
I kissed him. “Thanks. I’m really good at unbuttoning things.”
“I had a hunch.” He grinned and unknotted my tie so I could ditch my shirt. I grabbed his hat and flung it in some direction. We started to move backward, toward his bed. “Is this okay?” he asked, our hands everywhere. “Or should we leave and go climb onto the MAC’s roof?”
I laughed and kissed him again, remembering what I told him the first night we went up there. Leni Hardcastle and her rite of passage. “Nah,” I said, nervous but also feeling this warm burst inside me. Something amazing was about to happen. “Here’s great.”
Luke tackled me onto the bed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, and we both cracked up while we maneuvered his sweatshirt and T-shirt up and over his head.
“Holy shit, you wear so many layers,” I told him.
“Because I get cold easily.”
I grinned. “So high maintenance.”
Luke broke our kiss. “Says the person who clearly has separation anxiety.”
“Undiagnosed,” I said after the next one.
He rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh, sure.”
I hugged him close. “I just like hearing your voice.”
“Me too,” he said. “We have really great voices.”
“We do,” I agreed.
And then we didn’t use them for a while.
* * *
“I love you,” I whispered later. “I really fucking love you.”
Luke’s hand found mine. “That’s very cool,” he whispered back, entwining our fingers. “Because the feeling’s mutual.”
* * *
He watched me fumble to get dressed after the alarm went off at 7:15. This morning’s game was at 9:00 a.m. “Can I borrow a tie?” I asked as I buttoned my wrinkled shirt. It probably wasn’t a good idea if I wore mine two days in a row. Someone would notice.
Luke nodded. “Closet.”
I opened the door and grabbed the first one I saw, solid gray. I quickly knotted it and turned back to look at him. He was still under the covers, his hair an absolute train wreck. I smiled. “You’re adorable.”
He smirked. “So I’ve been told.”
“By who?” I pulled on my blazer.
“Well, let’s see…my mom, my sisters, my grandmother, Sage, Nina…”
I laughed and flopped down on top of him to say goodbye. “Yeah, I get it. Everyone’s in love with you.”
Luke shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Must be tough.”
“I manage.”
“Will you come today?” I asked, sort of quietly. Mom and Dad were going to be there again, but it would be Sage making the introduction, not me. “My dear friend Luke!” was probably how she’d do it, exactly how I needed it to be. I wasn’t ready for more than that.
But suddenly I did want them to meet him.
If only for just enough time for a handshake.
“You should be there to see me suck,” I added, since I was exhausted. We hadn’t gotten much sleep. “There’s a high possibility I’ll get benched.”
“Of course.” Luke grinned. “I’ll text Sage, and we’ll get coffee first.”
I grinned back and hugged him hard.
Chapter 23
Sage
I was with Luke when I got an email from Daggett House, saying Charlie had “cordially invited” me to their Tacky Christmas dinner this week. Last year Paddy had asked me, and we’d obnoxiously mimed gagging ourselves while Charlie and his fling-at-the-time canoodled over decorating Christmas cookies.
“I feel kinda bad,” I admitted after Luke skimmed the invitation. We were at the bakery in town, waiting to get cupcakes for Reese’s birthday. “You should be his date, not me.”
Luke shrugged. “Better you than someone else.”
I laughed, but it felt forced.
“Just don’t get too handsy with him,” Luke warned. “I hear he’s taken.”
“Noted,” I said as we moved up in line.
“What can I get for you kids?” the friendly-looking woman behind the counter asked.
“We’ll take a dozen, please,” Luke replied, and I listened as he relayed our Reese-approved selection, ending with: “And one Boston Cream in a separate bag.”
My brows knitted together. “Is that last one for you?”
He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”
We paid for Reese’s birthday goodies and then headed back to campus. “Where’s Charlie?” I asked after we made room in Brooks’ fridge for our white bakery box. I shook the brown paper bag. “You gonna deliver his special treat?”
Luke shook his head. “Nah, I thought you could do that. I have to call Keiko Morrissey, Esquire, about a very important matter.”
I sighed. “He’s going to be so disappointed.”
“He shouldn’t be…after all, you’re his date to the Christmas thing.”
“I thought you said you didn’t care.”
“I don’t.”
My eyes narrowed. I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me or not. “Where is he?”
“Knowles Basement.”
I nodded. “You want me to give him a message?”
“Yeah.” Luke smirked. “Tell him he has to settle up with me tonight.”
* * *
Daggett’s date party was the same day a bunch of early college decisions came out, including Yale, UVA, and my first choice. Jennie had gotten into Stanford yesterday (I’d abandoned my math homework and raced down the hall to congratulate her after hearing her happy scream), and at 5:00 p.m. tonight, I could finally find out my own fate. Although it would really be later than that, since I’d decided I wouldn’t check until after the party. Charlie was still staying pretty quiet on the college front. All he’d said was that he’d applied to several schools EA, and one ED.
He wouldn’t reveal anything else, but after the party, where everyone had been decked out in ugly Christmas sweaters, Charlie suggested we take a campus stroll. We walked in silence for a few minutes, passing by the girls’ houses and the library, and then Charlie spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for us not getting to hang out lately.”
“Oh,” I said, somewhat surprised. Yes, he and I hadn’t hung out one-on-one for a few weeks, but I wasn’t hung up on it or anything. We saw each other all the time at meals, and I’d lost track of how many “dates” to the movies or Pandora’s I’d gone on with him and Luke.
“It’s totally my fault,” he continued. “I spend all my time with him…”
I squeezed his arm. “Hey, relax. It’s okay. You really dig him, I get it. I don’t feel neglected or anything. I feel like we hang out tons.”
“We don’t make you feel like a third wheel all the time?”
I shook my head. “No, not usually. In my mind, I’m hanging out with my two best friends.”
Charlie nodded. “Okay, good.”
“Yeah, good,” I echoed, and forced my best smile. I really did love hanging out with Luke and Charlie, but at the same time, it could be so painful. Their inside jokes, their laughter, and the way they looked at each other…
It was a constant reminder of what I no longer had with Nick.
“So…” I ventured after another beat of silence. “Any news from Nick?” It was almost 8:00 p.m., so odds were he’d found out about Yale by now. I wondered if he’d been nervous…
Probably not, I decided, since Charlie had mentioned h
is brother getting a “likely letter” several weeks ago. It basically told him that he was guaranteed to get accepted as long as he didn’t screw anything up before official decisions were released. He had nothing to worry about.
Charlie laughed. “He’s probably ordering Yale-themed Christmas presents as we speak.”
He swiped into his phone to show me a text: RIDE OR DIE, BULLDOGS!
“Oh, I knew he would.” I let out a sigh of relief, breath visible in the cold air. “I bet the hockey coach would’ve burned down the admissions building if they didn’t accept him. Please tell him I say congratulations.”
Even though all I wanted to do was tell him myself.
“I will,” Charlie said, and then we randomly slowed to a stop in front of the chapel. “Should we check?” he asked. “You said your school was tonight…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I have one too. Well, a couple, actually.”
I felt a jump of excitement. “Yeah, yeah, let’s do it.”
We pulled up our emails, Charlie glancing at me. “On three?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Okay.”
We moved closer together, and Charlie took a deep breath. “One…two…”
And when three arrived, I clicked on the link to my decision and watched it slowly load pixel by pixel. Dear Miss Morgan, finally appeared. We are delighted to offer you a place…
Time froze for a second, and I stared at the letter until Charlie elbowed me. “So?”
“I’m in.” I turned to look at him, heart pounding. “I got in! To Middlebury!”
“Middlebury?” he exclaimed. “Holy crap, Sage, yes! Fire up the confetti cannon!”
I grinned. Middlebury, up in gorgeous Vermont, with kick-ass academics and where I could ski and bike to my heart’s content. (“A reach,” my college counselor had called it, just like Yale and Bowdoin. “Who cares?” Nick had said when I told him that. “A reach doesn’t mean impossible.” He squeezed my hand. “Go for it, Morgan. Don’t just play it safe.”)
I need to text Nick, I almost said, but then remembered Charlie. “What about you? Thumbs-up?”
He nodded. “Johns Hopkins.”
If We Were Us Page 18
