by Jay Asher
After Emma left my house, I took a shower and swiped some boxers from my dad’s drawer. They were in an unopened pack, and they’re a little loose, but they work. I’m planning to buy a few pairs of my own after school.
“Remember, I can tell when you’re lying,” Emma says. “And if you did that for Sydney’s sake, it’s kind of sad. Because if you think about it, you don’t even know her.”
“I don’t know her yet,” I say. “But it’s going to happen.”
“Oh, really? Did she call you last night?”
That is the question I was hoping to avoid.
“Because if she didn’t,” Emma continues, “maybe she’s having second thoughts.”
I don’t say anything. What if Emma’s right? Sydney and I really don’t know each other. Maybe she noticed me in Peer Issues sooner than she was supposed to, and now everything’s rippling in ways that will push us apart.
Emma leans over my shoulder and signs back on to AOL.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting her to call me right away.”
Before I came over, I carried my phone into the bathroom and plugged it into the jack near the medicine cabinet. I opened the bathroom window and set the phone on the sill. If it rings, I should be able to hear it from Emma’s bedroom. Then I took the cordless phone from my parents’ room and placed it by the front door. That way I can leave Emma’s house, sprint across our yards, and answer the cordless before Sydney hangs up.
“You’re right,” Emma says. “She wouldn’t call you right away. She’s going to play hard to get.”
“Do you think so?” I ask.
“Those are the rules,” Emma says.
Emma and Kellan spend hours talking about relationships and taking quizzes in magazines. Whenever I contribute my two cents, they just laugh and call me clueless.
Emma scrolls through some comments on her Facebook page, reading each one carefully.
“It’s hard to tell,” she says, “but I think Kevin Storm may be a firefighter. Or a doctor.”
Even if Sydney plays hard to get, she’ll call me eventually. Otherwise, why would she ask for my number? I hate that Emma’s trying to put doubts in my mind.
“Good for you,” I say. “So he’s better than Jordan Jones. Did you find anything else on there?”
Emma stares at the screen. I shouldn’t have asked that question when I wouldn’t answer it honestly myself. I told her I didn’t find anything interesting, but my brother ends up in a relationship with someone named Phillip!
“Nothing new,” Emma says. “But I have been thinking about your list, the one with people you want to look up. I’m not sure if—”
I remove the folded-up piece of paper from my backpack. Emma grabs it and turns it around, then starts reading through the names. I want to say we should crumple up the list and not check on anyone after all. If what I saw about David is true, then what else will we find that people may not want us to know?
“Eww!” Emma shoves the paper back at me. “Why did you put Kyle Simpson on there?”
I laugh. “What are you talking about? You dated the guy.”
“Barely! And I have no desire to find out what’s going on in his future.”
“He’s probably a Chippendale dancer,” I say. “Or he runs a nudist colony, or—”
“Stop!” Emma tosses me a pen and says, “If you insist on looking people up, cross him off.”
I cross him off, knowing we should eventually cross off every name. But if I say that to Emma, she’ll know I’m hiding something from her.
“I never understood how someone can go from dateable to eww,” I say. “I hope no one I’ve gone out with thinks of me that way.”
“I’m sure they don’t,” Emma says. “But I never really liked Kyle before he asked me out. He was just there. Like that girl in Seattle for you.”
After I got back from spring break, I talked about the Seattle girl a lot during lunch. I showed off a school picture she gave me where she wrote her phone number on the back in purple ink. I passed around the picture because she was pretty, but I also wanted to make Emma jealous.
“That was different,” I say. “A long-distance relationship is one thing. But hanging out every day when you don’t really like someone, isn’t that hard? I’d rather already like someone at the beginning, and then fall madly in love with them over time.”
“So you like Sydney?” Emma asks.
I look out toward my house. The telephone is sitting silently on my bathroom windowsill. I want to say, Yes, of course I like Sydney. She’s beautiful, and whenever I’ve seen her talking to people she always seems nice. But can I see myself falling madly in love with her? That must happen, right?
“You and I are different that way,” Emma says. “You’re always looking for something long-term, and you’ll stay with that person until you know for sure it’s not right. That’s why I know you weren’t being honest when you said you broke up with the girl from Seattle. You only said positive things about her, so you never would have broken up with her.”
Emma’s looking at me with a gentle smile, no judgment.
“That’s not what you’re looking for?” I ask.
“It’s what makes you great boyfriend material, but it also means you’re going to get your heart broken a lot.” Emma nods toward the list in my hand. “I don’t think we should look up any of these people.”
I tear a clean line down the middle of the paper. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Great,” Emma says. “We won’t look up Kellan or . . . or Tyson . . . or anyone.”
“My brother, my parents, none of them,” I add. “Because what if something bad happens between now and the future? If we can’t find out exactly what happens, it would drive us crazy trying to figure it out.”
“And some people,” Emma says, “don’t seem to have a page. Like Kevin Storm. So we might try to look someone up and think they died if we can’t find them.”
“New rule,” I say. “If someone pops up on our webpage, that’s cool. But no digging.”
Emma smiles. “No digging.”
At that moment, I hear a faint sound coming through the window. Is that . . . ?
My phone is ringing!
Emma points toward the door. “Just go, Romeo. But we should leave soon or we’ll be late for school.”
I bolt.
32://Emma
ON THE DRIVE TO SCHOOL, Josh and I barely speak. He’s looking out his window and jiggling his knee up and down. I bet he’s thinking about Sydney. He hasn’t said anything, but I’m guessing it was her who called.
“Do we have time to swing by Sunshine Donuts?” Josh asks.
I glance at the clock on my dashboard. “I don’t think so. We’re already late.”
Josh leans his head against the window and closes his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t Sydney who called, after all. Or maybe Josh didn’t make it to the phone in time. Either way, he’s on edge.
There are so many unknowns for both of us. I want to figure out what Kevin Storm does for a living. Saving a life could mean so many things. I’m hoping it means he has a take-charge personality, which is one thing that’s always attracted me to Cody. When Ruby sprained her ankle at a meet last month, Cody swooped in with an ice pack. I joked with Ruby that it made me want to get a sports injury, too.
But then I think about Kellan, and I’m the one on edge. Kellan—who bought my first box of tampons because I couldn’t stop laughing in the aisle of the drugstore—may be pregnant right now. She didn’t even tell me she was having sex, and that pisses me off. We tell each other everything.
Or maybe Kellan hasn’t had sex yet. If that’s the case, it’ll be happening soon. But how can I sit by and watch Kellan become a teen mom? She wants to go to Penn State, and dreams of becoming a doctor or a scientist. Can she do all that with a baby screaming in the background? She might not even be able to finish high school.
The school parking lot is crowded, and the only
remaining spots are way over by the field house. I pull into one and glance at Josh. He hasn’t said a word since he asked about donuts.
WHEN I SLIP INTO BAND, Mr. Markowitz doesn’t notice I’m late. He’s busy going over the lineup for this weekend’s Memorial Day parade with the girls from color guard.
I have a feeling Josh won’t be so lucky with his homeroom teacher, and that’s slightly satisfying. The way he went scrambling for his phone this morning was annoying. And I don’t understand why he didn’t just tell me if Sydney called. When I called my first husband, at least I had the guts to tell Josh about it.
Whatever. Josh can talk to whoever he wants. I have Kevin Storm waiting for me. But the problem is, that’s fifteen years from now. Today, while Josh is getting serious with Sydney Mills, I still have to deal with—
“Emma.”
Graham.
He taps his drumsticks against my thigh. “How’s it going?” he asks, sliding into the empty seat next to me. “I thought you’d be interested to know that my parents are going away this weekend. That means I’ll have a free house.”
“I assumed that’s what you meant.”
“So you can come over and we won’t have any interruptions.”
I stare at my sheet music. Last night, when I was thinking about life with Kevin Storm, I vowed to end things with Graham.
“Do you want to go to that bonfire on Friday night?” he asks. “We could stop by my place afterward.”
I think about what Josh said this morning. Hanging out every day when you don’t really like someone, isn’t that hard?
“I can’t do this,” I say.
Graham spins a drumstick between his fingers. “Can’t do what?”
“You and me. Not anymore.”
“Is this because Josh saw us the other day? If you want, I can talk to him.”
“No.” I take a deep breath. “This has nothing to with Josh. I just need to be on my own for a while. It’s nothing you did, but I—”
“Okay.” Graham runs his hands over his prickly scalp. “I’m not going to try to change your mind. We always said we were going to keep things low-key.”
Graham smiles sadly, and then holds out his arms like he’s waiting for a hug. As I lean in toward him, I notice how similar this feels to my breakup with Dylan, and even with Kyle. Unlike other people’s breakups, I never have too much drama. When Josh and Rebecca Alvarez broke up, he moped around in his room for weeks. When my mom and Erik divorced, she must have cried for a month. And when Tyson dumped Kellan—
Kellan!
I need to tell Josh about her pregnancy as soon as possible. I should have told him this morning. This isn’t something I want to handle on my own.
I SPOT JOSH in a crowded hall between third and fourth periods. I call his name, but he doesn’t respond. He’s standing with a sophomore girl and they’re both laughing. They turn and begin walking down the hall.
“Josh?” I shout again, but he still doesn’t respond. Or maybe he’s ignoring me? One call from Sydney and this is what happens!
I stand on my toes and watch them walk away. A few steps later, he reaches over and touches her back. That is so not something Josh would usually do.
“Emma?” a voice says.
I know that voice.
Slowly, I turn around. Cody Grainger is walking toward me.
33://Josh
SOMETIMES I’LL HEAR a song on the radio that launches my mood into a higher orbit. Even though I’d happily erase the moment Emma burst in on me in my underwear, “Walking on Sunshine” has been looping through my head all morning. It plays when I walk down the halls, sit in class, and say hi to people at their lockers.
When I answered the cordless phone this morning, no one responded. But then I heard Sydney’s distant voice say, “He must be on his way here” before hanging up.
She called me from her cell phone! I haven’t seen her yet, but that call has lit my path with sunshine all morning. I absorb it through the soles of my feet and it tingles up my legs, across my chest, shoots down my fingers . . . and don’t it feel GOOD!
The sunshine is magnetic, too. All morning, guys who’ve never said more than What’s up? have stopped to talk to me. And the girls! Between my morning classes, three girls have walked with me, keeping my pace . . . and I have long legs.
Like Anna Bloom right now. After history, she caught up with me as I headed for the door. I ended up walking to her third-period class even though I have gym on the opposite side of school.
“If you ever want to work on history together,” she says, “feel free to give me a call.” She writes her number on the corner of my folder.
Anna smiles up at me and then heads into her classroom. I try not to be obvious, but I can’t help checking her out as she walks away. She’s cute! Then I turn and look down the hall. I swear someone had been calling my name while I was talking to Anna. It was distant, but it may have been Emma.
And there she is, at the far end of the hall, talking to . . .
Cody Grainger?
Good for her, I guess. Cody’s a conceited dick, but whatever makes her happy.
34://Emma
CODY SMILES AT ME.
He’s wearing a dark blue T-shirt with DUKE written across the chest. Everyone in track knows he was accepted there with a full athletic scholarship. As usual, he looks relaxed with his spiky blond hair, pale blue eyes, and a faint shadow on his jawline.
“How’s it going?” he asks.
My hands start to tremble. Kellan thinks I hold Cody up on a pedestal, but he totally deserves to be there.
“Great.” I shift my books from one hip to the other. “So . . . what’s your next class?”
“Photography,” he says.
“That sounds fun.” I fidget with the E on my necklace. “I’ve got World History.”
There’s a brief silence. I remind myself that one day I will have a respected career and a life-saving husband. Even though Cody’s presence turns my brain into mush, I attempt to channel the confidence I will someday have.
“Are you going to track later?” I ask. “I missed it yesterday.”
He nods. “So that’s why I saw you running in the park.”
“You saw me?”
I went running soon after Josh left. I couldn’t stand sitting in my room with the computer right there, not being able to check Facebook because I promised Josh I wouldn’t. It turned out to be a kick-ass loop. I did my best time yet, and even sprinted for a half-mile.
“You looked great,” Cody says, combing his hands through his spiky hair. “I was working out on the nautilus course and you ran right by me. I called your name, but you must not have heard.”
“I was listening to my Discman,” I say, unable to control a grin. Cody said I looked great!
“What were you listening to?” he asks.
“Yesterday? Mostly Dave Matthews. Hootie and the Blowfish. A little Green Day.”
“Green Day?” He nods approvingly. “‘Basket Case’ was the first song I learned on guitar.”
“You play guitar?”
Cody tells me about teaching himself to play, and I nod in all the appropriate places. I am so glad I ended things with Graham today.
“We should go running sometime,” he says. “Do you live near the park?”
I happen to know that Cody lives on the east side of the park, about ten minutes from my house. To be more precise, he lives in a one-story house with purple lilac bushes and a striped mailbox.
“I live near the playground,” I say.
“Great. I’m over by the baseball field,” he says.
“I used to play Little League there.”
“Me too,” Cody says. “Hey, if you like Dave Matthews, you should come over sometime. I have a live bootleg tape from a show in Vermont.”
“Okay,” I say. “I’d like that.”
Cody touches my shoulder and smiles. “Well, okay then.”
As I watch him walk down the hall, I rea
lize this is yet another ripple brought on by Facebook. If Josh hadn’t ditched me yesterday to babysit his phone, I wouldn’t have gone for a run and Cody would never have seen me, prompting him to approach me today. And not just approach me . . . invite me to his house! I wonder if this ripple affects my future with Kevin, a man I don’t even know yet.
For Cody, I might be okay with that.
35://Josh
TYSON AND KELLAN are already at the lunch tree. I try not to read into this, but they hardly ever arrive before me. It’s been even longer since they got here first together.
“Hey, guys,” I say.
Kellan drops a ketchup-soaked french fry into her mouth.
“How’s it going?” I ask, removing my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich from my bag.
Tyson smiles at me. “Groovy.”
The only time Tyson says “groovy” is when he’s feeling abnormally awesome, like when he nails a kickflip on his skateboard. But I still refuse to read into this. If Tyson and Kellan are getting back together, they’ll tell me when they want me to know. But when Emma shows up, they’d better be more subtle or she’ll flip.
“Well, that’s groovy,” I say, laughing as I bite into my sandwich.
According to Emma, Kellan fell way too hard for Tyson, which is why the breakup nearly wrecked her. I think that’s just Kellan’s personality, but Emma warned her to be more careful about love from then on.
Kellan drags another fry through the ketchup. “Anyone want to hear some gossip?”
“Sure,” Tyson says. “But you need to eat more than just fries.” He removes the top piece of bread from his sandwich, peels off a slice of ham, and offers it to Kellan. “Here, have some of my meat.”
Still not reading into this.
“I haven’t seen Emma to confirm this,” Kellan says, folding the ham in half before putting it in her mouth, “but apparently, in band this morning, she dumped Graham.”
What? Why didn’t I hear about this?
