I kept waiting for Mom and Dad to ask me about camp. They did, but in a vague kind of non-meddling way. It was almost as if they intuitively got that something must have happened that I didn’t want to talk about. It was a good start. As soon as I shower and get rid of the camp grunge look, I’m going to see Matt! I hope that’s good too.
2:59 p.m.
Home from Matt’s
Not so good
I didn’t stay long. Twenty-three minutes to be exact. But I could have just stayed for three and I think Matt would have been happier.
He answered the door when I rang the bell. He looked cuter than ever. He was super tan and shirtless. He hadn’t cut his hair all summer, and it was blonder than ever, I guess from spending so much time outside at the baseball field. I gave him a cute, happy-to-see-you smile, but he didn’t smile back. “I just got back from camp,” I said.
He ran a hand through his hair. “How was it?” he asked after a long hesitation.
“Fun,” I said.
Matt shifted from one foot to the other. But he didn’t say anything back like, “Fun, how?” or “Tell me about it.”
He just stood there, doing the Matt Parker quiet thing, so I rambled on a little bit about camp. But he didn’t seem interested. “How’s your team doing?” I asked.
“Fine,” said Matt. He looked down at his hand and scratched a spot on his thumb.
“Do you have a bug bite?” I asked. I regretted the question as soon as it left my mouth. Matt looked down at his hand and stopped scratching. “No,” he said. Then he just looked at me. I wasn’t sure what to do.
“I just wanted to say hi and tell you I’m back!” I tried to say the words in a light, happy, no-big-deal way.
“OK.” Matt did his head-bob thing, and then he closed the door as I turned to leave. No hug. No kiss. Barely a smile. He seemed super distracted. Maybe something happened with baseball, or his dad, or he just wasn’t in the mood to talk. I probably just caught him at a bad time.
As Ms. Baumann says, timing is everything.
5:32 p.m.
OMG
I can’t believe what just happened. In my wildest dreams I never would have expected it.
After I left Matt’s, I went to see Sophie. I texted her as I was walking to Gaga’s that I would be there in less than 90 seconds. That’s how excited I was to see her.
But I could tell something was off with Sophie as soon as she opened the door. She seemed anxious, which is a very un-Sophie-like thing to be. She gave me a hug, but it was awkward. As we started to talk, she barely made eye contact with me. “Is everything OK?” I asked as we walked toward the Cold Shack.
“Yeah,” said Sophie. But I wasn’t convinced.
“So how was it being in Faraway for the summer?” I couldn’t wait to ask her what I really wanted to know.
Sophie talked about how she knitted during the day with Gaga and watched TV with her grandpa at night.
I made a face. “Sounds boring,” I said.
Sophie laughed. She seemed to be feeling more comfortable. “It was fun.”
I couldn’t wait any longer. “Did you see Matt?” I had to ask.
All traces of Sophie’s smile disappeared. We were already in line. “Let’s get our ice cream,” said Sophie. “Then we’ll talk.”
She made it sound like we had something to talk about. As we settled into a booth, I instinctively knew I wasn’t going to like hearing what Sophie had to say.
As soon as we sat down, she confirmed it.
“April, something happened this summer and I just need to be totally honest with you. I couldn’t sit at Gaga’s all day and knit. One day Amanda called and asked if I wanted to go to the pool. It sounded like fun, so I went.”
She paused. “I saw Matt at the pool.” She paused again. “It wasn’t a big deal. He just asked how I was doing and if I was having fun in Faraway.”
I wanted to ask if he asked about me but I didn’t. The answer seemed obvious. My stomach was in knots.
Sophie continued. “I told him that I pretty much was just hanging out with Gaga and my grandpa all day. It was the truth. Matt said I should come to one of his baseball games. He said that lots of kids go and it would be a good way to meet people.”
I felt ice cream dripping down my hand. I hadn’t taken a bite of my cone.
Sophie kept talking. “So I went to a game. It seemed like it would be fun. Kind of an all-American thing to do that I’d never done.”
I watched as Sophie took a deep breath and swallowed. I knew the worst part of the story was still coming.
Sophie continued, but her words seemed slower and more measured, like she was thinking about each one before she said it. “As I was leaving the game, Matt caught up with me. I was walking back towards Gaga’s house, and he sort of fell into place beside me. We were going the same direction, so it wasn’t like I could tell him not to walk with me.”
Sophie looked at me to see how I was handling what she was saying. I tried to appear calm, but I wasn’t feeling it.
“We walked home through a park, and he told me it was called Central Park. I told him that was cool because we have a Central Park in New York. When I said that, he told me this park has much cooler places. I said no way, and he said he’d show me one.”
I felt the chicken and mashed potatoes I’d had for lunch turn over in my stomach.
As Sophie continued with her story, her voice picked up speed. “Matt took me inside this little circle of trees. I told him it was cool because it was like a little room no one could see in.”
Sophie paused but only for a second. “When I said that, Matt tried to kiss me. As soon as he did, I pulled away. I got really mad. I told him that I couldn’t believe he’d done that.”
I started to get up. I had to get out of there. I thought I was going to be sick. But Sophie grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let me leave.
“April, that’s all that happened. I swear. I haven’t even seen Matt since then. It didn’t mean anything. I don’t know why Matt did it. Maybe he thought I was flirting with him when I told him no one could see us. But I didn’t mean it like that. Or maybe he just missed you and he was with me but thinking about you. I don’t know why it happened. I’ve thought about it a thousand different ways, and I honestly just think it was Matt being a dumb guy. I would have told you about it in a letter, but I didn’t want to upset you at camp.”
I couldn’t speak. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. Neither Sophie nor I had touched our ice cream. Sophie squeezed my hand. “April, I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t not tell you now that you’re back.”
“Yeah,” I said like I was glad she had.
But I wasn’t sure if I was. I wasn’t sure about anything.
10:02 p.m.
In my room
Alone
I have been here for hours. My eyes are puffy and swollen. My family keeps trying to come in my room. Sophie has called and texted a bunch of times. She feels terrible. I told her I appreciate her honesty and that I’m not mad at her. I just don’t want to talk. To her or to anyone.
I still can’t believe it.
I shouldn’t have gone to camp. If I’d stayed home, none of this would have happened. I wish my parents had made me go. Then I could at least blame someone.
But I’ve got no one to blame but myself.
No, scratch that. There’s one more person to blame.
Matt Parker.
If you’re going through hell, keep going.
—Winston Churchill
Sunday, July 13, 9:02 a.m.
Should still be asleep
How can I sleep when Sophie keeps calling me? “You have to talk to Matt,” she said for the third time this morning.
I wished she would just let this go. “I told you. I don’t know what to say to him.” I didn’t know how to make it any clearer.
“It’s simple,” said Sophie, who was ignoring what I’d said.
“You think everything is simple.” My tone was
too sharp. I wanted to be mad at Sophie even though I knew what happened wasn’t her fault.
She could tell. “April, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean talking to Matt would be easy. I meant when you talk to him, you simply need to ask him why he did it and how he feels about you.”
“So you want me to tell him you told me what happened?” I ask.
“I don’t have anything to hide,” said Sophie.
“OK. I’ll do that,” I said. But to be honest, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.
9:45 a.m.
While I was pretending to eat breakfast so Mom and Dad would stop asking what’s wrong, I was trying to decide what to do.
Should I talk to Matt? Even though Sophie was so clear about how she’d handle it, I’m not sure how I want to handle it. I’d like another opinion. I could talk to Emily, but she’d tell me I shouldn’t have gone to camp. I’d really like to talk to Brynn, but we’re not really talking about anything. It’s not that we’re not talking. We’re both just sort of pretending like we don’t both know that I’m upset about the fact that she and Billy are a couple and it’s something we’ve never really talked about.
That only leaves one other person.
11:59 a.m.
Back from Billy’s
It was a little weird to talk to Billy about what happened with Matt. I mean, given our history, it was probably the last thing he wanted to talk about, but he gave me some good advice.
“You have to talk to him,” said Billy. “You’re supposed to be in a relationship. It’s not OK that he just kissed someone else.”
I tried to ignore the awkwardness between us. It was more than I could deal with, but we both knew that’s what I did to Billy when we were going out.
“I’m sorry,” said Billy. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. You’re one of my best friends. I just want you to be happy. Talk to Matt. You’ll feel better.”
“Thanks,” I told Billy. He was right. He almost always is.
Then he looked at me and paused. “Hey, I’m sorry about everything with Brynn.” I don’t think he meant he was sorry they were going out. Just that he was sorry that it was hard for me.
“It’s OK,” I said. Just having him acknowledge it made me feel better. It also made me realize how much I miss talking to him. Even though I don’t feel the same way about him that I do about Matt, it’s hard not to love Billy. He’s just so Billy.
I’m just starting to wish Matt wasn’t so … Matt.
3:15 p.m.
In my room
With Gilligan
I talked to Matt. I kept thinking about it all day and trying to decide how and when and what I was going to say. Finally, I decided to just go over there and say whatever came out.
As soon as Matt answered his door, I started talking. I knew if I didn’t, I’d chicken out. “Sophie told me what happened.” I waited for him to respond.
But he didn’t confirm or deny anything. He just stood there, feeling his abs. Usually I like watching him do that. Today it made me feel sick.
I kept going. “I don’t understand how you could do that. We seemed close before I left for camp. You told me you really liked me.”
It was definitely Matt’s turn to say something. But he was being so annoyingly Matt. How could he just stand there not saying anything? I’d come to find out how he was feeling, and I was determined to do so. “So do you like Sophie?” I asked. My voice was rising. My words were coming faster. “Or me? Do you still really like me?”
Matt blinked like my questions were too rapid-fire to answer.
The confidence I’d felt just seconds earlier drained out of me. “Do you still like me?” My voice was softer.
But I could tell by the look on Matt’s face that I wasn’t going to like his answer.
Matt took a breath. “I think we need to take a break.”
I looked down. I was scared if I looked at Matt, I’d start crying. “Does that mean we’re breaking up?”
“Let’s see how things are when school starts,” said Matt.
“Sure,” I said, like that was fine.
But it wasn’t. As I walked home, Matt’s words replayed in my head. Let’s see how things are when school starts. I fail to see how they’ll be any different. Nothing is going to happen that will erase the fact that he tried to kiss Sophie or that when I asked him about it, he refused to tell me why he did it or how he feels about her. Or how he feels about me.
For that matter, how do I feel about him?
a) Mad.
b) Dumped.
c) Disillusioned.
I’m going with d) All of the above.
6:45 p.m.
Crying
Mom, Dad, May, and June know I’m upset. I haven’t come out of my room all afternoon. They just tried to get me to come eat dinner. I’m not hungry.
“You have to eat,” Mom just said through the door.
Why?
8:02 p.m.
Brynn just left
Billy texted me to see if I’d talked to Matt and how I was doing. I told him terrible, and he must have told Brynn because she came over to see me.
I could tell she felt a little weird about it because I hadn’t told her what happened, but she didn’t let that stop her. “Billy told me you could use some girl love.” She got in bed beside me and pulled the covers up over both of us. “What now?” she asked.
Even though I’d been upset before she came, and truthfully, even more upset when she walked into my room without warning, her words made me smile. It’s what she used to say when she slept over when we were little. As soon as my mom would turn out the light, she always wanted to know what we were going to do next.
“We could play When I Grow Up,” I said.
Now it was her turn to smile. Brynn always loved that game.
“OK,” she said, clearing her throat. “When I grow up I want to be a journalist.” I gave her a duh look. “I’m not finished,” she said. “And I want every room in my house to be decorated in turquoise.”
I shook my head. We’d gone down this route before. “A whole house in one color is tacky,” I reminded her.
Brynn pursed her lips like that was perhaps a true statement, but one she’d forgotten. “You’re right,” she said. Then she looked me. “And when I grow up I want to have you as my best friend so you can remind me not to make my whole house all one color.”
I teared up all over again. I knew this wasn’t about color schemes.
“April, I’m sorry about Matt. I know how much you like him. But I really came to say that I’m sorry about everything with Billy.” She rested her head on my shoulder, and we stayed like that for a long time.
“I really hope we’ll always be best friends,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said, like I hoped so too, but we both knew being grown up was a lot more complicated than playing it.
10:54 p.m.
I just took off the necklace Matt gave me, which got me thinking about all the conversations we had. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s like my brain wanted to do a mental review of everything we ever talked about. Not just about the big things like our relationship, but about the little things too, like baseball. For some reason, Matt’s explanation of batting averages stuck in my head. I remember exactly what he told me. A batting average is the number of hits a player has in comparison to the number of times he’s at bat.
I looked in my jewelry box at the necklace Matt gave me next to the bracelet from Billy. I guess when your batting average is zero, at least there’s nowhere to go but up.
There’s an end to every storm.
—Meredith Grey
Friday, July 18, 4:45 p.m.
I know how to knit
For the last five days, Sophie has been like an activities director for girls who get dumped. “The only way to get over a boy is to stay busy,” said Sophie. So that’s what we’ve been doing all week. I call it Camp Sophie.
We did yoga every morning in Gaga’s backyard, follo
wed by a run. She taught me how to make a croque monsieur, which is the French version of a ham and cheese sandwich but much more delicious. She had Gaga demonstrate her DVR skills, and she taught me how to knit. Sort of. Actually, it was Gaga’s idea, but I know Sophie was in on it.
“We should teach April how to knit,” said Gaga.
“April doesn’t want to learn to knit,” I said.
Sophie and Gaga gave each other conspiratorial winks, like it had already been decided.
So this week I learned to knit and purl, and I not only finished two ski caps, but also ended up crying (some) and talking (a lot) to Sophie and Gaga about what happened with Matt, and it was totally therapeutic. I knew Sophie would be a good listener, but Gaga surprised me. She really rose to the occasion.
Basically, she and Sophie came up with three theories about what happened with Matt.
Theory #1: He’s a boy. That was Sophie’s. She said that while factually unsubstantiated, in her opinion 90 percent of boys under the age of sixteen are hopelessly and impossibly immature, incapable of making consistently good decisions, and that Matt falls squarely into that category.
Theory #2: He’s from California. That one was Gaga’s. She said she’s never been there, but from everything she’s read, they do things differently out West. Her talk of “free love” and noncommitment actually made me laugh. I think the last time she read anything about California must have been in the sixties, but I appreciated her efforts.
Theory #3: He has problems with intimacy, like, in the sense of getting and staying close with someone, and just not being a jerk. Sophie and Gaga agreed this had to be Matt’s issue. They both said that based on how hot and cold he was when we were going out, that had to be why Matt wasn’t the best boyfriend.
They might be on to something. What they didn’t know, what no one in Faraway but me knows, is what happened with Matt’s dad. I’m no psychologist, but what he and his mom got away from … it must still be hard on Matt. But even if that’s the case, how could I not be mad at him? It wasn’t something I could discuss with Sophie or Gaga.
Anyway, none of their theories really gave me the answers I was looking for. Still, just talking to them made me feel better.
Love or Something Like It Page 8
