“I won’t send you away without food,” I say. “But maybe leave early? We had a fight this morning. We need to talk.”
“You had a fight with Vivi too?” He whistles. “Lilla on the rampage.”
I smile, but it’s half-hearted. When I have a hard time falling asleep, I remind myself of everything that works in my life. There’s one thing always on this list: Vivi and Knox are my best friends. I need to fix this.
At the table, Knox plows through his frozen yogurt at a speed that’s surprising even for him, and claims he has to go.
Vivi jumps up, holding her cup. “Me too! I’ll walk you out.”
“Vivi,” I say. “Please. Stay.” I fight to keep my voice even. I don’t want her to do it because she feels guilty.
Knox puts his hands on Vivi’s shoulders. “Sit down, Viv. Whatever happened, you need to work this out. My life doesn’t make sense when you two are fighting.”
Vivi sits back down and stirs her yogurt. She likes it half-melted. “Well?”
“I need to tell you something.”
She raises her eyebrows again.
“Fine,” I say. “I need to tell you some things. You might not like them.”
She doesn’t tell me it will be okay, but I plunge in anyway. I have to trust her, or what’s the point?
“You will always be my best friend. I hope. But I want to be friends with Prisha too. I’ve been telling her I don’t want to hang out. Because of you. But I want to do things with her sometimes. It doesn’t mean I’m trying to replace you. I couldn’t.”
Vivi’s quiet, but I can tell it’s thinking quiet, not angry quiet. “I’m worried about high school,” she says. “If you don’t come, everything’s going to change. What if that’s the end of us?”
“I don’t think it will be. You hang out with your soccer friends, and I used to spend all that time with gymnastics girls, and we were still best friends.” In my head though, I’m less sure. My parents thought they would be together forever. Until they didn’t. I don’t know what this means for me and Vivi, except that my life needs to be a little bigger than her and Knox. Just in case.
“I don’t want to be one of those girls who says you can only have one friend. But I don’t like it when you shut me out.”
“We don’t have to do everything together to stay friends, even best friends,” I say.
“I know. But you have to talk to me.”
“I will. This Summer Wish…it’s good. You were right. I need to not be so afraid to talk to people. Especially you.”
She squeezes my hand. “You know I love you.”
“I love you too, Vivi.”
She comes across the table to hug me. We stay like that a long time, and when we break apart, I’m a little embarrassed. We’re usually not so over-the-top with our feelings.
“So,” she says with a little laugh. “What’s next on your list of things to tell me?”
“Colby?”
“Okay.” She grips the bottom of her chair. Like she’s bracing for impact.
“I don’t like Colby,” I say.
“How can you not like Colby?” she asks, all offended. Knox was so right.
“I mean, he’s great,” I say with a grin.
Vivi narrows her eyes.
“For you.”
“How did you figure it out?” Her mouth drops open. “Is it obvious? Do you think he knows?”
Given that Knox is the one who told me, that’s a big yes, but I don’t want to embarrass her. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not doing anything else. He needs to do something. Why won’t he? I’m adorable.”
“So adorable,” I agree. Waiting for him doesn’t seem like the Vivi way. “What about telling the truth? Being brave?”
“I was already brave. It’s his turn,” she says stubbornly. “I’ve been flirting and flirting with him and I can’t tell if he likes me at all. Plus, he’s giving other girls his sweatshirt.”
“Sorry about that,” I say. “But I want you to know that even if I did like Colby, I never could have liked him enough to let him come between us. He’s just a boy.”
“A cute boy.”
“Even so.”
“I wouldn’t let him come between us either,” says Vivi. “I was going to let you have him.”
“That’s sweet, but I don’t want him. And Colby might want to, you know, express an opinion?”
“No hope of that,” Vivi says. “Sorry, I flipped out about his sweatshirt.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t even realize what that was about until…” I stop. I don’t want to throw Knox under the bus. “I thought you were mad about the science museum.”
“Well, I was. It was weird you didn’t tell me. I felt like you didn’t trust me or you didn’t need me—because now you were going to be friends with Prisha instead.”
“It’s not instead. I will always need you.”
“Good.”
“And I have to tell you one more thing.”
“More?” she asks.
“Unfortunately.”
CHAPTER 23
Boys Being Boys
Vivi and I sit on a bench across the street from Matt’s fraternity house. A bunch of guys throw a football around in the front yard. My whole body feels the way it used to before a big meet—palms sweaty, skin electric, heart pounding. I force myself to take the deep breaths my coach taught us to do to calm down.
Even with the street and the trees around us, I’m a little afraid Matt will recognize me, but I want Vivi to see.
She gives me more time than I expect before pushing me. “Why are we here?”
“One of the assistant directors for the museum camps lives over there.”
Vivi looks at me carefully. I go back to watching across the street. A group of college girls go by, and one of the guys yells something. One of the girls yells something back. Not bothered. But half a block away, a girl alone crosses to the other side of the street so she doesn’t have to walk in front of the house. Which I will do. Every time I come this way. For the rest of my life.
“When I was on my way over to see you all the other night, he whistled at me.”
Vivi turns toward me, and I shift so we’re sitting cross-legged, knees touching, heads close together. It makes it easy to talk quietly.
“He didn’t know who I was,” I go on. “He said to come back in a few years.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” I give a sad laugh. “I ran away. I cried. Colby found me and gave me his sweatshirt.”
“Oh, that’s why…” Vivi says.
I nod. “And today, when I let him apologize—Matt, not Colby—he said I should think of it like a compliment.”
“Not a great time for me to start a fight, huh?”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“Yeah. That’s kind of been my point. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I lift a shoulder. “Too embarrassed. Because it happened. And because of the way I reacted.”
“You’re not the one who should be embarrassed.”
“When he told me to come back, I laughed, Vivi. You would have punched him in the face. That’s why I couldn’t tell you. I’m bad at being brave.”
Vivi does a sad smile. “I wouldn’t have hit him. The first time it happened to me, I cried too.”
“The first time?” What on earth? Not only did she not tell me, but there’s been more than one time?
“I was with my mom,” Vivi continues. “Some guy yelled something awful out a car window at both of us.”
“How many times has it happened?”
“Three.” She taps my leg. “I know you may not get this, but all this stuff is worse when you’re not white. How often it happens and what they say.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t want to worry you. You don’t like talking about anything like this.”
She’s right. I’m sure that’s part of the reason s
he didn’t want to tell me about Colby. I’m pretty private. Even with Vivi.
“What are you doing here?” I jump at the voice next to us, and my head smacks Vivi’s.
It’s Matt. I can’t believe I let him get so close without noticing.
I scramble to my feet. Vivi follows. Even so, we’re looking up at him. I take a step back.
“When I apologized today, I meant it,” he says. “But I am not going to let you destroy my summer. You need to get over it. Aman’s treating me like a criminal, and I’m supposed to be in charge.”
Boo-hoo, I think, but do not say. To my credit, I also don’t tell him that it’s okay. Part of me wants to though. Say the right words and make everything go back the way it was. Vivi doesn’t speak, but she edges closer to me so our shoulders touch.
“This wasn’t a big deal. I get you’re young. But it’s not like guys don’t do this all the time. Grow up and move on.”
He goes back across the street.
“You need to tell Kate,” Vivi says when he’s gone. “He can’t get away with this.”
“Come on,” I say, pulling her hand. I want to get away from here. Once we’re headed back toward my house, I say, “I did tell Kate.”
“What did she say?”
“That she would talk to him. And it was just boys being boys.”
We walk in silence for a while.
“Do you think that could be true? That it is just boys being boys, I mean?” Vivi asks.
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine Knox or Colby doing it. But maybe they’re different when they’re not with us?”
Vivi’s silent for a while. Finally, she says, “No. I won’t believe that. And I think guys like Matt know it’s a big deal. They pretend it’s a compliment about how you look, but really, they like that girls are scared.”
“I wish I wasn’t,” I say.
Vivi takes my hand. “I know. Me too.”
CHAPTER 24
Best for Me
That night Vivi sends me a link to a website about street harassment. I like the words—street harassment. I mean, I don’t enjoy them, but they feel more like what happened to me than catcalling. That sounds a little silly.
And all the numbers. I’m amazed. By seventeen, it happens to almost all of us. So many girls say the first time was when they were eleven. Or even younger. What is wrong with people? One in four girls have been touched while they’re out in public. The stories make me glad I live in small town without any public buses or subways. They seem awful.
I read story after story. They feel so familiar. The shock and embarrassment. The wanting to escape. I read that girls who blame themselves or who respond passively—like me—feel worse afterward. We are more afraid and more likely to worry about where we can walk and what we can wear.
Mom knocks on my bedroom door.
I flip my laptop shut. “Come in.”
She spent dinner not talking and scrolling through her phone. That suited me fine. I’m still angry with Dad, but I’m not feeling all that cozy with her either. I need to make nice though because I want to sleep up here.
It’s one thing for Dad to start dating. I don’t love the idea, but I get that it was going to happen. But it’s something else for him to flat-out lie to me about it when I was standing right there. I don’t want to feel uncertain all the time.
But I’m not starting this talk. That’s his job. So if he thinks I want more nights up here because I need time with Mom, I’m good with that. As long as I get my way.
Mom sits on my bed. “Can I talk to you about something?”
Uh-oh.
Something is never ice cream or bookstores or Disney World. It’s always your math test or the divorce or the dozen toads discovered in the washing machine because you and your two best friends thought they needed a damp environment. You know, hypothetically.
“Sure?”
“That trip I took. To Northwestern? It went really well.”
“Congratulations?” I’m not sure what she’s getting at here. Mom doesn’t usually need me to tell her she did a good job at work.
“They offered me a job. It’s a yearlong visiting position right now, but it could turn into more.”
It’s almost eighty degrees outside, and my window’s open, but all at once I’m ice cold. My mind races. How far is Northwestern? Four hours? And a whole other state? No. It’s not fair to ask this. Not right before eighth grade.
“I can’t move to Chicago.” I don’t say this as a question. I’m that sure.
She shakes her head. “No, no. I wouldn’t ask that of you. I can go down Sunday nights. Come back Fridays. You’d stay with your dad. And during breaks, you can live upstairs full time, so we can catch up.”
My dad. The one with the secret girlfriend.
“Why?” I whisper. How does this make sense? Is it to get away from him? Couldn’t we just move to the other side of town like Knox’s dad? I’d be all for that. Unless it’s to get away from me. I know I haven’t been so easy to be around these last few weeks. Am I too much for her now?
“It’s a much, much better school. More support for research, better labs, colleagues who push my thinking. It could be game-changing for my career. Even if it’s short term.”
“But what about me?” My voice sounds small. It’s one thing to think that maybe I’m not the center of my parents’ lives, but it’s something else for her to thrust the evidence in front of me like this.
“In another five years, you’ll be off to college. I wish I could wait, but I can’t pass up an opportunity this good and this close.”
Mom has never been completely happy here. I know that. But I thought it was mostly because she wanted to spend more time traveling the world looking for bugs, not that she wanted to work somewhere else. Live somewhere else. She’s made noises about moving before, but Dad always ended all that by talking about what was Best for Me. Then I get it. All at once.
“This is why you got divorced.”
After a few seconds of silence, she says, “A divorce never has one reason.” But I’m right. Dad will never leave his museum or his garden or his familiar life. And she wanted to move away as soon as I finished high school. Only now she doesn’t have to wait. Because she can leave me here with him. And he can find someone who’s happy to stay.
Good for them, I guess.
The back door of Mom’s place opens, and Mom and I look at each other, united in a sharp flash of fear. Only it must be Dad. To make it easier for me to go back and forth, we leave our back doors open. Just the one to the outside at the bottom of the stairs stays locked all the time. Still, Dad’s never walked into Mom’s house without knocking.
Dad comes into my room and looks between us.
“You told her,” he says. When Mom nods, he adds, “What do you say, kiddo? Can you survive weekdays with me?”
His hands are in his pockets, and he looks more relaxed than either Mom or me. Sure of my answer. Enjoying his chance to be the good parent.
I remember Knox snarling at his father when they came into the auditorium, and I wish I could do that. I want to hurt them both. Tell Mom it’s not fair to leave me when the whole world is getting so scary and confusing. Tell Dad not to smile at me like we are so, so close. But I can’t bring myself to do it.
Instead I say, “What does your girlfriend think about you being a full-time parent?”
Dad looks at Mom. “You told her? Why?”
“It wasn’t Mom.” He puts his eyes back on me. “I heard you on the phone. The other night.”
His face changes. Remembering. Deciding all my upset was because of him. Good. Let him think that.
“I told you that you shouldn’t have hid this from her,” Mom says. “That she needs to know what’s going on. This move is going to be hard enough without her having to worry that you’re sneaking around.”
Her anger warms me a little, but I can’t help but notice she made this about her awfully fast. And she doesn’t seem to remembe
r that she hid something from me too.
“Can you leave? Both of you.”
“I’m sorry, Lilla. I thought it was for the best,” Dad says. “There was no reason for you to know about…” He stops.
“Say it,” I say. “Her name.”
“Dana.”
“Dana?” Mom says. “I thought her name was Julie.”
He looks up into the corner of the room. “Lilla heard me on the phone with Dana. But it’s not serious, so…”
“So?” I say, not sure how I’m supposed to fill in that blank.
“So, I’m seeing a couple of people.”
“Gross.” I know I can’t expect my parents to be alone for the rest of their lives, but I definitely didn’t expect this. Dad is old. One person should be plenty.
“This is a lot to take in,” Mom says to me. Her voice is short. She’s angry with Dad but trying not to take it out on me. “But you’ll get through this. Next year you’ll still be in middle school. It’ll be fine. And if you need me back for high school to help you through the science track, I’ll do it. No questions asked.”
Before I can figure out how to answer—because hard classes aren’t what I’m worried about—Dad says, “The science track? I thought the arts program was your first choice. I may not be good for much, but I can help with that.”
“What are you talking about?” Mom looks at me. I open my mouth but can’t think what to say. Mom reads my face. “Oh, Lilla. Please tell me this isn’t about Knox. That you’re not going to decide what to do with the rest of your life because you want a boyfriend.”
I shake my head, unable to believe how off track she is. She dismissed me and what I want so quickly. Not even giving me a chance to say I want to go to a school without Knox or Vivi. Because it’s best for me.
“You’re twelve. You can’t have a boyfriend,” Dad says. “And why did you say Knox? What about this Colby?”
“Dad,” I say. “Please stop calling him ‘this Colby.’”
“See,” Dad says to Mom.
“Way to focus on what’s important, Will,” Mom says.
He glares at her.
I need my life to stop for a minute. This is. All. Too. Much. I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears until they’re quiet.
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