by Lillie Vale
“I love coffee.” I shot him a nervous smile. “But it is pretty late.”
Levi stared. Under his scrutiny, guilty heat crept over me.
“You just got here,” he said. “I thought you were staying for dinner.”
I could see him trying to work out what had changed since he’d gone upstairs. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, before I could be convinced to stay, I blurted out, “Okaybettergobye!”
“What?”
I took a deep breath. “I have to go. I’ll take a rain check on dinner. Thanks.” I wasn’t proud of fleeing but I couldn’t stay, either.
“Babe, wait.”
He caught up to me outside his front door. Levi stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with a crinkled expression of worry on his forehead. “Is it something I—” He paused, coughed delicately. “Is everything okay?”
I stared at his face, twinges of electricity still pulsing through me. The long lines of his jaw led to a squared chin and a tapered neck. The muscles in his neck were taut.
“Will you text me when you get home?” Levi asked, still not looking happy at the idea of my leaving.
Touched at his concern, I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll let you know I got there okay.” I swung one leg over the bicycle and adjusted myself on the seat, wincing at the hot leather.
“Good night, Levi!” I called over my shoulder as I pedaled away. More than anything, I wanted to turn around and go back to him, dive into his arms, and kiss him again. I wanted to assure him he hadn’t done anything wrong, that everything was still okay. I wanted to lead him upstairs and close the bedroom door. But I didn’t do any of those things. It was usually me getting left behind, but this time, I was the one doing the leaving.
fourteen
Sleep didn’t come easy after I left Levi’s place. Too on edge to stay still, I’d paced in my kitchen until realizing how unproductive that was. Then I’d swapped walking for baking, and my stomach had thanked me for it. But even that didn’t help me go to bed. All I could see stretching in front of me were the next four years he’d be at college. The times he’d be too busy studying, or hanging out with his dorm friends, or the moment he realized long-distance just wasn’t cutting it. Being without him.
I’d done this song and dance with Elodie already. I didn’t want a repeat. I didn’t want to pull a Band-Aid off slow. I’d rather let the hurt in all at once instead of little by little, torturing myself over the months, the years.
I knew what Lucy would tell me. I’d say What if we break up? What if it ends in heartbreak? And she’d say What if it doesn’t? She’d tell me to go after what I wanted, even if it meant letting someone in. Letting them have the power to hurt me just by being them. Like Mom. Like El.
Which was why, the next day, when I woke up after a restless night’s sleep, I decided not to tell her. She was coming over to get ready for the Clamshell Queen pageant. I wouldn’t be entering this year—I didn’t have a chance without Mrs. Wang and her sewing machine to help me with a dress. My heart wasn’t in it, anyway. The years I’d competed had been because Penny signed us up. It wasn’t really my thing.
I didn’t mind not being part of it, though. It was one thing to compete with Penny, and another to compete against her. So I’d taken Lucy up on her offer to get ready, much to her delight. She and her mom were coming up to my lighthouse for a photo shoot, too, while her dad was painting her clamshell backdrop in their garage. I told them to come for lunch, so at noon, I started getting everything together. My bamboo cutting board was the bed for thin slices of a ripe Roma tomato, wedges of avocado, onion, different kinds of cheese, and crusty bread.
I hummed while I pulled three glasses from a shelf. I examined the rims to make sure there were no finger smudges; satisfied that the glasses were clean, I turned my attention to my hair. I was expecting the Bishops for lunch in a few minutes, and the day was so warm that my hair already felt a little damp. I pulled the claw clip free, wincing when the prongs snagged on my hair. I flipped my head so my blonde hair pointed at the floor, then began ruffling it at the scalp to fluff up the volume.
“Babe?” a male voice called out.
Levi? A grin spread over my face as I whipped my head back up. “It’s open!” I shouted in the direction of the door, knowing it would carry. On the exposed beam next to the counter I’d nailed a thrift-store mirror. The filigree oval mirror had reminded me of the wicked queen’s magic mirror from Snow White, and at just under five dollars, I would have been dopey not to buy it.
Some of the freckles on my face were more prominent from the sun, and the blonde streaks looked extra bleached. My cheeks were pink from my blush stick, but my upper lip looked a little sweaty. Frowning at my reflection, I used a clean kitchen towel to dab above my mouth.
“Hey.”
I turned, smile at the ready. My stomach sank like a stone. “Chad?” I asked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
Chad’s eyes volleyed around my kitchen as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his baggy shorts. He glanced at the six slices of rustic country bread. “Expecting company?”
“Yeah.” I rocked on my heels, playing with my fingers. “I’m expecting Lucy and her mom for lunch. She’s getting ready for the Clamshell Queen pageant here.”
He laughed, but it sounded nervous. “Penny wants me to escort her there later. So, um, I guess I’ll see you there.”
“Guess you will.”
He didn’t take the hint. “Things seemed weird the other night. Between you and me,” he said.
The beach.
“When you were on a date with Penny?” My lips pursed.
Before I knew what was happening, he had crossed the kitchen and was in front of me. I wasn’t expecting the hug or the muffled “God, wasn’t that awkward” in the crook of my neck.
It was easy to hold still in his embrace, but then I stiffened and placed my hands on his waist, pushing him back. “I can’t do this right now, Chad. Why are you here?”
“I told you.” There was an undercurrent of frustration in his voice. “When I saw you on the beach, you were waiting for—” He broke off, frowning like he couldn’t remember the name. That was because I hadn’t given it to him.
“Levi,” I supplied.
“Levi?” Chad stared at me. “Penny’s mentor?” His eyes searched my face.
I frowned. Technically, I’d known him before she had. “Yeah,” I said, “my friend Levi. I wasn’t trying to hide it.”
Okay, so I sort of had been. But at the same time, I wasn’t trying to keep my relationship with him a secret. Everything we did, we did in public, not squirreled away in stolen moments. Unlike Chad and Elodie, I would never hide what I felt for Levi. I’d never sneak around with him, using my lighthouse as cover. A touch of anger ignited in my chest as I remembered the shifty way Chad had snuck up here last time.
“Does Penny know you’re here?” I asked, knowing I’d hit home when he flinched.
“I care about her.” He paused, then, hesitantly: “I care about y—”
“Don’t,” I said savagely, interrupting his sentence. “Don’t. If you cared about me, you wouldn’t have gone along with her icing me out. When I run into her on the street, she stares past me like I’m not even there. Things I used to be invited to?” I laughed bitterly. “I’m persona non grata around here these days because of her.”
Best friends weren’t supposed to be like paper kites in the wind. They were supposed to be people who wouldn’t float away, who would always be there.
His sigh was loud, heavy. It took up too much space in my small kitchen. “I thought I was making headway with her … and then when I saw you by yourself at the beach, I thought I’d try my luck. It just made things worse. I didn’t know she’d already told you about needing to take a break from each other.” Chad’s smile was sad. “Weird how I’m her boyfriend but you’re always the first one to know everything.”
“Weird how you think that’s some
kind of honor,” I said with a snort. “So you snuck up here again to do what, exactly? Tell me to be patient? Tell me you’re”—I air-quoted—“‘working on it?’”
“I love you.” Chad shuffled his feet. “I don’t want to lose you.” Clarifying, he added, “Or her.”
I flattened my hands against my stomach and looked away. “Please don’t say that.”
His breath was loud in my small kitchen. “Why not?”
My stomach clenched. “Because I think Penny had the right idea when she broke up with me.”
He looked stunned. It must have been the last thing he’d expected me to say, after everything we’d been through together. “W-what does that mean?”
“We’ve done everything together all our lives, and the one thing that should have been just you two … You never had a chance to figure out what you were like as a couple, or as people, because in a way, we never really grew up. We stayed the same. And it can’t be like that anymore—it shouldn’t be.”
And then, because I was afraid my voice had sounded hesitant and unsure, I repeated, more firmly, “She may have said it for the wrong reasons, Chad, but Penny was right. About all of it. Whatever was good about us, we’re choking it to death. Our roots are too tangled. We need to have space to breathe.” Relief came over me as I realized I had finally said what I had struggled with articulating for so long.
His forehead scrunched as he took it all in. “You actually agree with Penny? But she just did that to hurt you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think she did. She can be mean, but she’s not cruel.”
“So what changed? Why do you agree with her now?”
“Just … space. Distance from the whole situation.”
Chad’s expression cleared. “You love him, don’t you?”
He meant Levi. I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I barely know him!” I exclaimed.
“You want to, though. On the beach, when you were on a picnic with him…” Chad swallowed. “You looked at him the way you used to look at Elodie when you didn’t think anyone was watching.”
The kitchen felt too small to keep looking at him, so I turned around. I knew it was childish but I didn’t care. My world felt small and suffocating and for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to just leave. Not tell anyone where I was going and vanish. Do what Levi did—pick a place with a pretty name and reinvent myself, become someone new, someone without a past.
“Hey.” Chad moved behind me, hugging my waist for a brief moment before pulling away. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not.” I turned around and laughed, partly from embarrassment, and partly because my eyes were wet.
“Listen,” said Chad, rubbing the side of his nose in an awkward gesture that I’d learned to associate with his discomfort. “If you like this guy…”
I swiped at my eyes. “Not sure I’m in the place to start swapping relationship advice with my best friend’s boyfriend,” I said, trying to make a joke.
He ducked his head, running his hand through his hair. “I was always your friend before I was anything else,” he said. “I’d … I’d like to be that again. If you’d let me.”
My breath was deep, steadying. “I’d like that.”
He looked up at me, the barest glimmer of a smile on his face. “All right.” He glanced away and then back at me. “I should go. You have people coming.” He retraced his steps to the front door.
He was halfway out when I blurted out, “Wait. Chad.”
He stopped.
“You never told me why you came here in the first place.”
“I wanted to tell you I was sorry,” he said.
“You’ve already apologized.”
“For fucking everything up, sure. But not to you, for what I did. I shouldn’t have kissed you, Babe. Maybe there’s always been a little of what-could-have-been between you and me.” He paused. “I love you, but I’m in love with Penny.”
I nodded. I knew that. No matter how close Penny drew me into their relationship, I’d always known I didn’t want to get between them. “Chad … I know I said we weren’t really at the swapping advice phase, but can I give you some anyway?”
“Sure.”
“I know you love Penny, but if you’re just with her because, I don’t know, you’re scared to be alone? You shouldn’t be.”
His grin turned crooked. “You can’t just tell someone how to feel.”
“Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” I shook my head. “You can totally be scared. But you shouldn’t let it hold you back from doing what’s right for you. She broke up with you and didn’t even tell you why.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Think about it. What’s changed? What’s less same-y now?”
He didn’t have an answer.
“She’s scared to be the same, and you’re scared to be different,” I said. “Shouldn’t that be sort of a concern?”
“I don’t know, a little?” He shuffled his feet. “But it’s about to be the end of everything, Babe. It’s fucking terrifying. We’re legally adults, but I don’t feel like one. Not in any of the ways that matter.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. We should have talked about this weeks ago. I should have told him I was scared, too.
“I’m turning nineteen in fall and I still have Spider-Man bedsheets,” he burst out. “I wake up some mornings so stunned that I’m supposed to be an adult, and I don’t even feel like it. I feel so ripped off that high school is over, that Real Life is so long and everything else is so short,” he said, and every part of me ached at the helplessness in his voice. “I don’t want to be at the end of high school without my girlfriend. I know how this goes. Couples who go to college together usually break up. If she changed her mind, then … then maybe we’re not one of those couples. Maybe we’re the exception.”
Or maybe they weren’t. I’d tried to get him to think about things, but this was as far as I went. I was sad for him, but I drew the line at telling him he needed to talk with Penny about their future. I knew better now. No more getting involved in their relationship.
“You think it’ll happen again,” Chad said. “That she’ll realize nothing’s different and she’ll make the same decision again.”
“I’m just looking out for you. You can be an idiot sometimes, like when you go around kissing people who aren’t her, but you deserved better than—than what she did.”
“You’re the only person who’s said that.” He glanced down, then back up at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “John, Cary, the other guys … they just think I’m lucky to get her back.”
“What are you listening to them for? They cheated all the way through high school and still got Cs.”
“Ha. Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Seriously, though. I should go. She’ll get pissed if she has to wait for me.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it still rankled. Penny always expected more from other people. She never stopped to think about what would happen if they had enough. Maybe because it had never happened before.
“Sure. Guess I’ll see you down on the beach for the pageant.” Whether or not he’d acknowledge me with Penny right there watching him was a different story. “Good luck with…” Would it be rude to say Penny? “Everything,” I finally settled on.
“You too. I’m rooting for you and Summer Boy.” Chad’s smile was stronger than before. “See ya, B.” With one last wave, he left.
* * *
Mrs. Bishop drove us down to the beach after we finished lunch and put all the finishing touches on Lucy’s hair and makeup. Vendors had set up colorful booths along the beach, and a row of striped umbrellas provided shade for children and the elderly. The sizzle of hamburgers and hot dogs carried into the car, and the Dairy Bar’s ice cream truck was doing brisk business in the parking lot.
The moment Lucy saw the crowd already gathered, she buried her face in her hands.
“Hey!” I yelped. “Your ma
keup!”
Lucy stopped herself just in time. “There’s so many people,” she whispered.
“You’ll be just fine, honey,” said Mrs. Bishop. She met her daughter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You look beautiful.”
Lucy hunched her shoulders and didn’t reply.
I squeezed her knee. “You’ve got this.”
Parking was impossible to find, so Mrs. Bishop dropped us off near the raised stage where the clamshells were being arranged in a row. Some of the pageant contestants were already up on the stage, posing for the cameras. As we got out of the car, Lucy froze.
“Honey?” Mrs. Bishop called from the front seat. “You okay? You can just get back in the car if you’ve changed your mind.”
“No, I’m going to do it.” Lucy pressed her lips together.
We waved as the car drove off, but once the car was out of sight, Lucy fidgeted with her curls. “Penny looks gorgeous,” she said. “And Dad put my clamshell right next to hers. Ugh.”
Penny was playing up her pale skin and black hair with a striking red silk qipao. There was a slit in the side of the Chinese-inspired dress that went all the way up to her hip, golden chains underneath for a hint of modesty. Gold fish scales were painted on the fabric from the waist down, reaching her pointy golden heels. Mrs. Wang had outdone herself this year.
But so had Mrs. Bishop. She’d designed Lucy’s dress with chiffon, dying it in a gradient of black to turquoise to white. The bottom was flounced with fabric, made to resemble frothy waves. The pretty ombré dress flowed like water itself, and was offset with tiny white pearl beads stitched over the bodice. Lucy had even made herself a wire crown, stringing the same pearls onto them and forming a coral-like creation.
“Babe!”
Lucy and I both swung around in surprise to see Lorcan jogging over.
He shot me a wink. “Sorry, not you,” he said, wrapping an arm around Lucy. “You look incredible,” he said, kissing her temple. “What are you still doing down here?”
“I feel a little sick,” said Lucy, pressing a hand to her stomach.
