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Ten Things We Did (and Probably Shouldn't Have)

Page 25

by Sarah Mlynowski

I looked over at Lucy and swallowed hard, feeling ashamed. Maybe I’d been left behind, but she had lost her father. That was loss I couldn’t even imagine. I let my head fall against the wall. “I’m sorry I thought you were a psycho.”

  “I’m not psycho,” she said. “I just wanted to move home.”

  “What about the blackmail?” Vi asked. “Let me Hula with you or I’ll tell my mommy on you. That was borderline psycho.”

  Lucy waved her hands in the air. “You had a freaking hot tub! I had to get in somehow! And you guys seemed cool.”

  “We are cool,” Vi answered.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucy said, biting her lip.

  “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Noah,” Marissa said to me. Her cheeks were red. “I should have.”

  “I’m sorry I took it out on you,” I admitted.

  “There’s a whole lot of sorry going on here,” Vi said. “Let’s play I Never with ‘I’m sorry.’ If you are sorry about something, you have to take a bite of the donut.”

  We all laughed.

  I picked up a donut. “I’m sorry Noah cheated on me. After I . . . after I stayed in Westport.”

  “Twice,” Vi said.

  “That means two bites,” Marissa said. “Big ones.”

  “Did you really stay for him?” Marissa asked.

  “A little bit for him. And for you guys. And I was afraid to try something new.”

  “But why didn’t you go with your mom?” Lucy asked. “Maybe I wouldn’t have come here if I’d had a choice but . . . she’s my mom.”

  “I didn’t want to leave my life. Or my dad. And I was really mad at her. I guess I’m still really mad at her.”

  “She was really upset when she called,” Vi said. “She misses you.”

  “I know,” I said. I thought about me and Vi and my mom and Marissa and Noah and my dad. No one was perfect. But we all did the best we could. I guessed you had to forgive when you could, move on when you couldn’t, and love your family and friends for who they were instead of punishing them for who they weren’t. “I miss her too,” I said.

  “Do you know what would be awesome?” Lucy said, picking up another donut.

  “What?” I asked, still thinking of my mom.

  She took a large bite, and then chewed and swallowed. “Finishing this conversation . . . while Hulaing.”

  HE RETURNS

  We soaked and watched the sunrise. The Long Island Sound turned white, then yellow, then pink, then blue. When our stomachs started to rumble we made omelets. At about eight A.M., we called it a morning. I was just about to crawl under my covers when—

  WEEEooooWEEEooooWEEEoooo!

  I thought about letting it ring. What was the difference? What would happen if I didn’t answer? Clearly, he was not going to make me move in with him.

  WEEEooooWEEEooooWEEEoooo!

  Aw, hell. “Dad.”

  “Hi, hon. Did I wake you?”

  “Nope.” At least this time I wasn’t lying.

  “Good. I’m outside Vi’s house. Can we talk?”

  I sat back up. “What about your out-of-towners’ brunch?”

  “I’m skipping it. I wanted to see you.”

  “Oh. Sure. Gimme a sec.”

  A few minutes later I was opening the passenger door to his rent-a-car.

  A bouquet of tulips was on the passenger seat. “Are those for Penny?”

  “For you,” he said.

  “Oh!” I picked them up and put them on my lap. “What for?”

  “They’re an apology. For what I said yesterday. I’ll always have a room for you. If you want to move in the middle of a semester—then you can move in the middle of the semester.”

  My eyes filled with tears. “That’s not how you felt yesterday. You made it sound like you didn’t want me at all.”

  “I . . . you surprised me. And I was just so proud of you. About how you made a life for yourself here. I was thinking about logistics. Which was dumb. If you’re not happy here, then come live with me. We’ll figure out a way. And if there’s no room in our house, then we’ll move somewhere else. There’s always room for you and Matthew.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Yesterday, I’d wanted to run. But today . . . well, my friends had found me today. And anyway, I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I knew that if I left Westport, I wouldn’t be running to Ohio, I would be running from Westport, and for me, that wasn’t the right reason to run.

  “Dad? Are you happy?”

  He blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “After everything that happened with Mom. You got through it, right? You’re happy?”

  He nodded. “I’m happy. Very happy.”

  I was thinking about lightning, but I didn’t want to bring it up.

  But he answered me anyway, as if he could read my mind. “You know, April,” he said. “Sometimes you don’t need lightning to start a fire. Sometimes, it builds on its own.”

  I nodded. My throat hurt.

  “I’d love to have you if you want to come to Cleveland,” he said. “But I won’t be hurt if you want to stay.”

  I nodded again. “For now . . . I think I’m going to stay here.”

  He kissed my forehead. “Stay for now, think about things, and let me know what you want to do next year. If you want to get an apartment. Or move in with us. Or if you want to stay at Suzanne’s. No rush.”

  “Vi’s finishing school this year,” I admitted.

  “I know. But Suzanne doesn’t mind you staying. She wrote me this morning saying so, actually.”

  Ha. Did she? I contemplated telling him the truth. Telling him that the emails from Suzanne were actually from Vi.

  But . . .

  No rush.

  ONE MONTH LATER

  I knocked. Twice. My heart fluttered with the sound.

  “Who is it?” the voice said.

  “I heard you were having a party,” I said. My heart fluttered again. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to try something new? Trust someone new? I straightened my shoulders and tried to channel Vi. If she could trust someone new, so could I.

  Hudson opened the door and smiled. “How did you know where I was?”

  “Dean is over at our place. I beat it out of him.”

  “Dean is always over at your place,” he said, stepping onto the porch.

  That was true. Dean and Vi had been locked in Vi’s room for the last month, since my birthday. And it didn’t look like they would be separating any time soon. Vi had gotten a full scholarship to Columbia, and Dean had decided to go to NYU. “New York girls are the hottest,” he’d proclaimed. “Someone should write a song about them.”

  “Welcome to Ms. Franklin’s,” Hudson said. “I’m glad you finally made it.”

  “Me too.”

  “I hope you know that the reason I haven’t been by in the last month is because I wanted to give you some space.”

  “I know,” I said. “Thank you. All is settled.” Noah was history. There had been lots of crying, lots of Hulaing, and a follow-up visit to Rosini. But it was done. He was done. “And I know we have a lot to talk about.”

  “Since the kids are in the living room, can I just do something before we go inside?”

  I nodded.

  His hand cupped my cheek and he leaned toward me. As our lips touched, my whole body sizzled.

  It was lightning.

  what i did

  (and probably should have done earlier)

  GOT ON A PLANE

  The three kids in row fifteen were moving like glaciers. I’d be a hundred by the time they were done. And we were back in row twenty-four.

  What time was it anyway? Poor Donut. Stuck with the bags. The amount of paperwork required to get her here had been insane, but worth it.

  I switched on my phone. Seven A.M. local time. A text popped up:

  How’s the hottest girl in Paris?

  Hudson. I smiled. Typed back:

  She’s sti
ll on the plane!

  Marissa grabbed my hand. “Movement! Are you ready?”

  I nodded. Yes. I felt ready. To explore Paris. To see Matthew. To work on my relationship with my mom. I stuck my phone in my purse and felt my heart leap. I gave Marissa a huge smile. I had her with me for the whole summer. And then . . . I was staying for senior year.

  I was a little nervous. I was a little scared. But it was time to be a little gutsy.

  “This is going to be awesome,” she squealed. “Can we go to the Eiffel Tower today? And then the Seine tomorrow? I definitely want a baguette. And an espresso.” She squeezed my arm. “You are going to come back for college. Right?”

  I nodded. Probably. I skipped in my spot. Row twenty-three was on its way. I picked up my bag. Pulled it over my shoulder. I was ready to explore.

  “Let’s go,” I said. And I went.

  TOLD MY DAD THE TRUTH

  “So are you up to anything fun today?” I asked my dad one night in November. I was sitting on my favorite spot on the couch, chatting with him on the phone, while Matthew did his homework on the living room floor and my mom and Daniel made dinner in the kitchen. It was already evening here, but only noon in Ohio. I had just gotten off the phone with Hudson at Brown. We had been planning his trip—he was coming to spend New Year’s with me.

  “Penny got us tickets to see Mary Poppins! It’s a national production that’s in Cleveland for two weeks. It was her favorite movie as a kid and the play’s gotten rave reviews.”

  I almost dropped the phone. I swallowed a nervous laugh. What was he going to do? Set a nine o’clock curfew? “Dad? Um, listen. I have kind of a crazy story for you. . . .”

  fifty-eight people i’d like to thank

  (and probably a few i’m forgetting)

  Laura Dail, my incredible agent.

  Tamar Rydzinski, the queen of foreign rights.

  The most excellent gang at HarperTeen: Farrin Jacobs (still brilliant), Kari Sutherland (thank you thank you thank you, Kari), Elise Howard, Catherine Wallace, Allison Verost, Christina Colangelo, Kristina Radke, Sasha Illingworth, Melinda Weigel, Amy Vinchesi, and Rosanne Lauer.

  Joel Gotler and Brian Lipson for all their hard work in Hollywood.

  Elissa Ambrose, my mom, for her love and willingness to read, edit, and discuss on command.

  Lauren Myracle and E. Lockhart: I have no idea how I ever did this without you two. You are my cheerleaders, my editors, and my co-conspirators. Thank you for everything.

  Emily Bender for her terrific suggestions.

  Tricia Ready for her fantastic help.

  Jessica Braun, as always.

  Bennett Madison for helping me shape and title this book.

  Alison Pace for her notes and friendship.

  Little Willow, aka Allie Costa, for her awesome insights.

  Veterinarian Lindsay Norman for all her suggestions about Donut. (Of course, any mistakes are all my own.)

  Pierrette C. Silverman from Planned Parenthood of Southern New England for taking the time to chat and explain. (All mistakes, also my own.)

  Susan Finkelberg-Sohmer for her medical expertise. (Mistakes—mine.)

  Targia Clarke for taking such great care of my little one.

  Ronit Avni, who took me in and housed me in her basement when I was seventeen.

  Shobie Riff and Judy Batalion for being my friends and saviors during the year of the futon. (Todd too, but more on him later.)

  Aviva Mlynowski, my little sister, for introducing me to all the movie people (and because I love her and am very proud of her).

  Larry Mlynowski, my dad, for his constant support and for always trusting me (even when he probably shouldn’t have).

  Love and thanks to my family and friends: John & Vickie Swidler, Louisa Weiss, Robert Ambrose, Jen Dalven, Gary Swidler, Darren Swidler, Ryan and Jack Swidler, Shari and Heather Endleman, Leslie Margolis, Bonnie Altro, David Levithan, Avery Carmichael, Tara Altebrando, Ally Carter, Maryrose Wood, Jennifer Barnes, Alan Gratz, Sara Zarr, Maggie Marr, and Jen Calonita.

  And, of course, a million thank-yous to the loves of my life, my husband, Todd, and our daughter, Chloe.

  About the Author

  SARAH MLYNOWSKI is the author of GIMME A CALL and the Magic in Manhattan series, which kicked off with BRAS & BROOMSTICKS. She is also the co-author of HOW TO BE BAD and has written several novels for adults. She currently lives in Manhattan and can be found online at www.sarahm.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  Credits

  Jacket photo © 2011 by Jill Wachter

  Jacket design by Sasha Illingworth

  Copyright

  Ten Things We Did (and Probably Shouldn’t Have)

  Copyright © 2011 by Sarah Mlynowski

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Mlynowski, Sarah.

  Ten things we did (and probably shouldn’t have) / Sarah Mlynowski. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Sixteen-year-old April, a high school junior, and her friend Vi, a senior, get a crash course in reality as the list of things they should not do becomes a list of things they did while living parent-free in Westport, Connecticut, for the semester.

  ISBN 978-0-06-170124-5

  [1. Conduct of life—Fiction. 2. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 3. Self-reliance—Fiction. 4. Connecticut—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.M7135Ten 2011

  [Fic]—dc22

  2010045556

  CIP

  AC

  * * *

  EPub Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780062084613

  11 12 13 14 15 LP/RRDB 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  First Edition

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