I nodded. "I know about the scholarship part. I just c [art, I'm an't move away from home now."
"What about the University of Washington, then? You could go to school right here in Seattle. We could line you up for applying to the UW next year at least. Or you could do some prereqs at the community college and then transfer in later. Didn't you say you were interested in science? Or maybe I read that in your file somewhere...?"
"I don't know anymore."
Mr. Croft leaned back in his chair, tucking the silver pen behind his right ear. "It hasn't been easy to find your way." I knew he was talking about Rob. That was the first thing people ran to when I didn't quite fit what other people thought I should be doing. Feeling. Being. And in all honesty, they were pretty freaking right when they did that.
"I'm finding my way okay," I said. "I'm doing my best to manage."
"Well, first everything that happened with Rob, and now I hear from your mother that your grandfather has come to live with you."
"Wait. Are you actually counseling me? 'Cause that would be a first for this high school." I gave him a hard look, but he just smiled.
"Yeah. You caught me." I had him pegged as one of those adults who tried to get down on your level. The kind that tries to say things like "way cool" and "my bad" to be one of the kids but just comes off fake, but his sarcasm surprised me. He was coming from somewhere real. "It's my job. If I don't counsel people, then it's all over. I'm canned. Kaput."
"Fine. Counsel away," I said. "Oh, wait—I've got a good one for you. You know anything about Alzheimer's patients seeing ghosts, or how to get a nine-year-old to brush her teeth properly?" Or what to do about my kissing a guy who is not Rob, I added silently.
Mr. Croft gave me a puzzled look. "I'm serious." He leaned forward in his chair, pulled the pen down, and made some notes in my file. "Next year. UW. Think about it. And in the meantime you could think about what you want to do. What you want to study. What you want to be. The kind of stuff everyone else in your class is thinking about their last years of high school."
I smiled. "You want me to think like everyone else in this school? That sounds pretty lame."
"No." He clicked his pen closed. "I'd really like you to think about what you want. Simple, really. What do you want to do with your life, Holly? What's next?"
I felt a little shiver run down the back of my neck as I stood up from the plastic chair. "Thanks for the counseling," I said, grabbing my backpack from the floor.
Mr. Croft gave me a little wave and started digging in the pile of folders, searching for his next victim. I let the door swing closed and went out into the fluorescent-lit office. The brightness of the tiled floor, the clicking of computer keys, the whir of the copy machine, the smell of stale coffee, blanketed me in familiarity as I contemplated his suggestion. I really had no idea what I wanted.
"You all right, honey?" asked one of the office ladies as I passed.
Once outside the glass-windowed doors, I swam into the stream of kids flowing down the hall. Glad to be absorbed, anonymous again. Free from scrutiny.
***
Jason had been anticipating Holly's company all morning long. Well, truthfully, since last night in the car, but he'd held himself back, trying not to call her, just figuring he'd see her at school that morning. His first chance came in chem class, but she'd been sent to the counselor's office, he'd hoped for nothing too serious. The last thing she needed was more trouble at home. She didn't answer his text between classes, but he knew that her cell phone was for emergencies only—maybe her mom had disabled the text plan to save some cash.
At last, hanging out front of the lunchroom before lunch, he saw Holly moving toward him, her blue hoodie setting off the color of her eyes, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Tired, beautiful. He wondered if she'd had another long night at home with her family. As he approached, she gave him a small smile, which he felt strangely grateful for.
"Hey." Jason snagged her hand. "Let's go grab a hamburger off-campus."
"Um. Okay." She waved bye to Marisa, who gave her a huge grin at the sight of the two of them.
They headed out to the parking lot, which suddenly seemed so far away. But maybe that was because they were passing small clusters of kids, including Mark, standing with a group of his and Jason's friends. Mark cocked his head and gave him a strange look, but at least he didn't say anything.
Jason squeezed Holly's hand as they reached the car. "So ... um ... this is great. I'm glad you were free."
"Yeah," she said, sliding into the passenger seat of the Audi. "Thanks for taking me to lunch. I'm starving."
"Sure. I kinda wondered about yesterday..."
To her credit, she didn't try to hide the embarrassment that took over her expression. "Yeah. That was awkward."
No, this is awkward, thought Jason.
Holly zipped up her hoodie and fastened her seat belt across her chest. "I'm not sure I can talk about, you know, what happened."
Jason started up the Audi and buckled himself in. "So we just go on and pretend like you didn't kiss me?"
"God." Holly put her hood up over her head. "I'm sorry. I thought you were talking about the thing with my mom," she said, shrinking in her seat.
"Oh-kaay." Jason backed the car out of the parking space, and they headed out toward the street.
"No, seriously. I mean, I did think you were talking about my mom."
"So the kiss was no big deal to you?"
"Well, was it to you?" Holly peered out from underneath her hood.
"Uh ... you have to ask?" Jason gave her a half smile.
"Okay, yeah. It was a big deal," she said.
Inwardly, Jason let out a sigh of relief. He remembered Holly seeming to shake on her way out of the car. Her small hand on the armrest of the door, searching for the handle, needing to get out, away. Away from him ... As sweet as the kiss had been, that need of hers to escape had worried him, made him wonder if she'd meant it.
"Maybe I got a little carried away. I was upset. This is all a little weird for me."
And there it was—the excuse. The pullback. Jason's mind flashed to Rob. He'd been so good about girl stuff—always knew just what to say, was able to give him advice and help him read between the lines. Here and now, though, without Rob, he felt lost. But if Rob were here, it wasn't like Jason would be asking his advice on what to do with Holly. What she felt. What she was so afraid of.
Jason pulled up into a parking spot at the burger place and cut the Audi's engine. "What's weird about it?"
Holly peeked out from under her hood. "You know why ... but I know I like hanging out with you."
"Well, that's a start," Jason said with a nervous laugh.
"Yeah." Holly managed a small smile.
"All right. Progress." Jason's heart lifted a little, along with the mood in the car. "Well, I like hanging with you, too," he said. "I like you."
Holly pulled her hood back and fixed her ponytail. "Why me? I'm just your average dead best friend's girlfriend."
His mouth dropped open. "What?"
"Kidding. I'm kidding." She laughed, shoving him.
Jason rubbed his shoulder. "Ouch, you're stronger than you look," he said. "Funnier, too."
"Yeah, that's what they say. A laugh a minute ... C'mon, there's a line. We should get some chow before our time's up."
"And what about this?" Jason said, motioning between them.
Holly turned back toward him, uncertainty in her eyes. "I'm not sure what this is. I mean, I don't know what we're doing."
"Well, I've been thinking about that kiss all day," Jason admitted.
"I've been thinking about the kiss too." She leaned close enough that Jason smelled her fruity lotion, the scent of her hair. She rested her head on his shoulder and looked up at him. Blue, blue eyes rimmed by long black lashes. That sweet mouth that so rarely smiled.
"You're only the second boy I've kissed," Holly whispered.
A shiver passed though Jason,
but he moved closer, until her mouth was a fraction from his. The heat from her lips buzzed against his as they met skin to skin, but not kissing. He hadn't lost his nerve, he just wanted to savor this second. To make this the first real one. The first one on purpose.
"Did you hear me?" Holly said.
He gave the slightest of nods, which sent them into the kiss. A kiss he hoped, unkindly as it may have been, would free her from the ghost of boyfriend past.
***
I couldn't speak.
I untangled myself from Jason's arms. His hair was mussed where my hands had been, his lips flushed, red. I felt disoriented, suddenly moved from the absolute darkest night into this bright sunlight surrounding us.
I acclimated to the smell of french fries and the sound of car honks in the parking lot outside us, outside this world of Jason's Audi, because that's where we were, in our own universe. A universe of heat and steam and emotion that I thought had been lost inside me.
I hadn't been kissed like that in a long, long time. And it made me wonder if one kiss could cancel a hundred that had come before it. Was it possible for it to have so much power that it wiped away the memory of my lips against Rob's?
"Let's, um, get some food," I mumbled.
Jason ran a hand over his hair to smooth it. I knew I was fine. My ponytail was messy to begin with, and I was only wearing clear lip gloss, so it wouldn't be all smeary. I got out of the car and stood up on wobbly legs. Jason met me up on the sidewalk and did a boyfriend thing—he slipped a hand around my waist.
Panic gripped me. Was that what we were now? Were we a thing? I watched the kids waiting for their food at the counter. They were focused on the big menu board, not paying any attention to a boy and a girl who'd just made out for the first time. Well, a few looked up, and one or two nodded at Jason, which made me want to pull away from his grasp, but I didn't. I told myself to chill, that everything was fine.
"Would you like a chicken sandwich or a cheeseburger?" Jason asked.
"Um, chicken."
He walked up to the register and then pointed at the menu board, gesturing that he was getting me a chocolate shake. I reached in my bag to get some money.
"I got this," he mouthed.
I shoved my wallet back into my bag. That was what guys sometimes did, I reminded myself. They liked to buy you lunch. My hands suddenly felt sweaty.
He put change in his pocket and headed back to where I was waiting. "You okay?"
I nodded. He put his arm around me, and the unasked question was like an imaginary flashing neon sign over my head. What am I doing?
"You like chocolate, right? Was that a good guess?"
"Sure."
He smiled proudly. It was an expression that said, I am going to take such good care of you, baby.
"I'll be right back," I said in a small voice. I wandered down the narrow red-tiled hall to the ladies' room. Just to get far from him for a moment.
I washed my hands and splashed some cool water on my cheeks. I almost expected to hear some girls from my school hiding in the stalls, talking about who that loser girl with Jason was—or, if they knew me, about how I could even think of hanging around with Rob's best friend. But no one was there. I was alone with my own reflection in the mirror, a mixture of fear and excitement written all over my face.
***
The gentle winds of Umbria. The rolling hills. The lush olive groves and ancient walled towns. Aldo's memories of growing up warm you like sunshine. For the second day in a row, he's wrapping you in story, but this time, you're hanging at the senior center.
You sit on a wrought-iron bench, in the large courtyard of the community center, and it's the perfect place for Aldo to mumble and gesture without arousing too much concern.
"Bocce," Aldo says. "It's quite serious. Used to be very competitive in my town."
"I've heard of it," you say.
"Not so much here in Washington..."
"Yeah, I was going to ask why you moved here," you say. "Italy sounds so amazing."
Aldo adjusts his gray cap. "Ah. That is easy. Love."
"You moved here for love?"
"I met an American girl who was on holiday in Perugia. For weeks after she left, I wrote her letters. In my best English, of course. She lived here in Seattle with her family."
"Yeah, I guess in those days you couldn't just write her an e-mail."
"Ancient times, right?" Aldo chuckles.
A robin chirps on the lawn near the bench and distracts Ald [disnt face="to for a moment. He seems to love nature and has already told you all the names of the plants surrounding the lawn of the courtyard.
"So, you met a girl?"
"She didn't answer my letters," Aldo says. "She ignored me."
You shake your head. "Oh, man. That's cold. What did you do?"
"I came to Seattle in search of her."
"And that was Holly's grandma?"
"No." There's a smile in Aldo's voice. "When I finally came to her house, she sent me away. She was engaged to be married. I don't know what happened to her after that."
"Huh? I don't get it."
"I stayed at the hotel for a few days, deciding to make the most of my trip to Seattle. It had taken nearly six months to save up the money for the airplane ticket, you see. Then, one day, I went to the Seattle Center."
"Holly's grandma worked there, right?"
"You do not believe in fate, do you, Roberto? You keep guessing the easy answers." Aldo chuckles. "No. She was not there working, my friend. I sat down near the International Fountain to eat my sandwich. I didn't know what I was going to do when I got back to my town. My friends would have a good laugh at my expense, running off after a girl and coming home alone. I must have sat there for an hour. Then I heard a chorus of little voices."
You hold up a finger. "Got it—your wife was a singer performing a concert."
Aldo laughs at you again. "No, a tour group of little schoolchildren were trooping around the fountain, and at the back was a tall blond woman with the most patient smile on her face." Aldo moved a hand to his heart. "I am telling you, when I saw that beauty, I knew that she would be mine. Fate is something you can't change. It's meant to be."
You smile at his smile. "Fate. I usually don't think of it as a good thing. You know, someone goes to meet their fate, and it usually means they bite the big one."
"Destiny, then. Some people are destined for things."
"Was I destined to die, or was that me meeting my fate?" you ask quietly.
Aldo shifts on the bench. "That's a tough one. I'm not sure."
"If things happen for a reason, then all of this was supposed to happen," you say.
"That's one way to see it."
There are thoughts niggling at the back of your mind. Thoughts that feel unripe. You let out a sigh. "Do you think I'm destined to get out of here?"
"Certainly," Aldo says. "Why would God keep you here forever? What purpose would that serve?"
"True."
A light wind ruffles strands of hair sticking out from Aldo's cap. "You died in a crash, Roberto. Correct?"
"Yeah."
"That's not a pleasant way to go," Aldo says. "When I die, I hope I drift off to sleep."
You nod. "Much nicer, I'm sure."
"I imagine it was painful," Aldo says.
Instinctively, you reach up to touch your forehead. "Yeah. The car hit a tree, and it smashed the windshield. I faded in and out, and then it was all over."
"Winter time, eh? Snowy roads?"
"No. September."
Aldo's eyebrows raise slightly. "Ah."
You feel an ache in your heart. "You don't know about the crash, Aldo? Well, Holly—she was in the car with me."
"My sweet girl?" He nearly imperceptibly shakes his head. "No. I didn't know."
The ache in your heart spreads to your gut. "I thought they would have told you."
"They don't tell you shit when you're like this, kid." Aldo lets out a long sigh. "So, you cr
ashed with Holly in the car. Not good."
"Obviously, she survived," you say.
"Yes." Aldo's eyes take on a glazy look, like he's about to cry.
A light breeze kicks up again, freeing some cherry blossoms from the branches overhead. Pinkish white blooms rain down all around Aldo. There are some on his hat, on his light nylon jacket. If you could, you would reach out to brush them away.
"My Holly, she's strong," Aldo says.
"Yeah," you say. "Always had her stuff together."
"After her grandma died, I didn't see Holly very much," Aldo says. "This coming to be with her, with Julia and little Lena, it's a gift. A half-given gift, but a gift nonetheless. I know you want to get out of here, but did you ever think that maybe this time given to you is the same?"
"A half-given gift," you repeat. "Isn't that worse than no gift at all?"
His eyes are clear again. "It's some kind of second chance, even if it's not ideal," he says.
He doesn't return to the topic of the night you crashed. He doesn't ask you aga [t av> in about Holly. He simply gets up and walks back inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
And you are relieved. More than you can admit.
Chapter Nine
"I'm only here to talk to my son, Mona. Oh, good. Here he is now."
"Peter, he's got plans with his friends, probably."
Jason could hear his parents on the front porch as he cut the engine of the Audi and glided into his parking place next to his dad's Beamer in the driveway. He'd been in a good mood up until that point of the day, buoyed by the time with Holly at lunch. He was sure something had shifted between them, that he'd shown her, finally, how great things could be between them. He'd been smiling since he'd walked her to her fifth period class. Humming along to the indie radio station as he drove home.
And now ... back to reality. He pushed his sunglasses back on his forehead and pulled the keys from the ignition.
"Hey," Peter called, jogging over. He was wearing a Cornell tee, shorts, and tennis shoes, like he'd just come from working out. On the porch, his mom stared over at the two of them, her mouth pulled into a tight line. Jason gave her a wave.
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