Grace held out her hands to me, like she expected me to take them. “Sarah, sis, it’s okay! We’re just worried! Did he upload some of the pictures? Is that why you’re so frantic to reach him?”
“Who says I’m frantic to get ahold of him?” I demanded.
“You talk when you text,” Grace said. I must have looked baffled, because she demonstrated. “Hey, Will, did Hailey give you that message? Hey, Will, could you give me a call? Hey, Will, I need to talk to you. Hey, Will . . .”
“Shh, shush, zip it,” I said. My cheeks flamed. One, because what kind of first-grader was I, that I talked when I texted? And two, because my sisters had taken a tiny scrap of inaccurate information and spun it into something completely shady.
“You can talk to me,” Grace said. She was so earnest. So incredibly earnest. I still wanted to hit her.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I told her. Snatching up sheets of newspaper, I rolled them into balls to use on the windows. “We haven’t done anything like that yet. That’s not why I want to talk to him.”
“Is there something I can do? I really am a good listener.”
She kept standing there, perched like a sparrow on a windowsill. She seemed tiny and delicate. Telling her to buzz off felt cruel. There was just enough sincerity in the air around her, and I was still so upset and confused, that I broke. I’d finished half the downstairs windows and didn’t feel any better. Maybe dumping it in Grace’s lap would do the trick.
“Dave hit on me last night after the show, okay? It freaked me out, and I wanted to talk to Will.”
“Oh,” Grace said, surprised. She must have had a no-sexting-the-Internet-is-forever speech all prepared. When I busted out with something completely different, it gave her pause. Finally she said, “He didn’t have his phone? With the time difference, he should have still been up when we got home.”
Once I’d started, the rest came spilling out in a rush. “He was up! He was at a party. I know that because his next-door neighbor Hailey answered his phone. She said she couldn’t find him, but she’d pass the message on.”
Grace blinked at me. If she’d had pearls, she might have clutched them. “Is Hailey a girl?”
“Of course she’s a girl,” I yelped.
“I wasn’t sure!”
“I told her to have him call me. Anytime. No matter what time, but he didn’t. And he hasn’t answered my texts this morning, so I’m freaking out just a little bit, Grace. Just a little bit. Do you have any idea how many windows this house has?! It’s a lot!”
Slumping, I was exhausted and relieved. At least it was out; at least I wasn’t the only one with all this garbage in my head, even if I had just dumped it all over Grace the Doomspeaker. Okay, that wasn’t fair. And I felt really bad thinking it, because Grace abandoned her tea instantly and bundled me into her arms.
I didn’t want the hug, but it was so weird that she was giving it to me that I gave in in spite of myself. My chin bumped uncomfortably against her shoulder. I felt like a little kid. Like she’d just picked me up after I fell off my bike or something.
With a soothing croon, she petted my back. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why they can’t control themselves when they go away . . .”
I pulled my head back and squinted at her. “He’s not Luke, Grace.”
A more familiar expression appeared on her face. This one was just a little bit patronizing. That older-sister-knows-best face, where she shook her head ever so slightly, pitying me because I just didn’t understand yet what she knew to be the truth. “Everybody’s different, it’s true.”
Backing out of her arms, I shook a finger at her. “No. No. What Luke did was skeevy and disgusting. I’m still actively hoping a walrus sits on him. But that’s Luke. That’s not Will.”
“I hope that’s true—”
“Don’t.”
White-hot rage flashed over me. She’d been creeping around behind me for weeks, listening for signs of trouble. It was almost like she wanted things with Will to fall apart. If they did, then it justified her suspicion. She could prove she tried to protect me. Even, perhaps, she could find some justification for Luke’s behavior if Will was just as much of a dog. If all men cheated, then she might feel less damaged.
Too bad for her, she wasn’t going to get that from me. Or Will. Snatching up my bucket of vinegar water, I pulled myself up to my full height. “We’re not talking about this. Because there’s nothing to talk about. I’m not mad that he hasn’t called me back. I’m worried. About him. Because I trust him.”
As if shedding an unwanted coat, Grace backed off. “Okay. Your life is your life. You’re the one in control.”
“You’re damned right I am,” I snapped. I sounded so fiery, so furious, that I thought Grace believed it.
I only wished I did.
~
Since I couldn’t wash windows in peace, I retreated to my room. Dragging my laptop into bed, I slipped slowly into crazy-person mode. First, I pulled up Will’s Twitter account. He’d last updated it at nine o’clock his time, which was ten my time, so just before I’d called. His last message, mysteriously, said OTP COME SEE ME OTP. No tag. No reply. It made no sense.
I plugged it into a search engine and got an urban dictionary definition that meant either Will had started to care really, really deeply about getting two TV characters to kiss, or I had the wrong definition. Back to Twitter, I dug through his friend list. A couple of other people had the same message on their timeline, at the same time. And then, nothing.
Maybe it was a party password. But wouldn’t a party have pictures? With a few quick clicks, I called up Instagram and even the sad little Facebook account that Will never updated. The last thing on his wall there was Packing for college, going to miss my girl. Wistful, I stared at that for a few minutes while I tried to examine my life and my choices.
Was I really worried about him?
My head made a good case for worry. What if he was hurt? But my heart knew that he was fine. He’d been partying. No doubt, he was sleeping it off somewhere. I didn’t want to let myself wonder, even for a second, if he was sleeping it off somewhere with someone else.
But wonder I did. Why did Hailey have his phone? Why was she—now that I was scrolling through his Instagram with a more critical eye—in all of his pictures?
With her sun-streaked hair and her freckled nose, even I had to admit she was cute. Almost every picture featured her pulling a face or striking a pose. In some shots, she had feathers dangling from her hair. In others, a peacock blue streak dyed right in. Glitter sparkled from her skin; her clothes were casual pop star, and fit her perfectly.
She looked like fun. The kind of girl that a semi-reformed party-boy would love.
Heart sinking, I slapped the lid of my laptop closed. I couldn’t keep looking at this. Instead, I pulled up the camera on my phone and sent Will a video message for once. I did my best to sound sort of okay. I wasn’t, but I didn’t want him to think I was completely unbalanced.
With the camera blinking at me, I hesitated. Then I finally just said what I was thinking.
“Hey, Will. It’s, like, three on Saturday. I haven’t heard from you, I hope you’re okay. Something weird happened after the gig last night. We can talk about it when you call. I’m missing you so much today. I’m so glad your homecoming is soon. I miss your face, and the rest of you, too. Call me. Love you. Bye.”
Rolling out of bed, I ducked my head so I wouldn’t have to face myself in the mirror. I was more than a little ashamed of myself. I just felt powerless to stop it. Will had been so good about staying in contact until now. The sudden drop-off combined with constant reminders of another girl in his life was the perfect storm of long distance anxiety.
A long, hot shower would clear my mind. Unfortunately, with all three sisters back in the house, a short hot shower had to do
. I scrubbed my skin pink and nearly broke my neck when I heard Will’s voice saying, “Hey, Athena” from the next room. I grabbed the towel, but didn’t take the time to wrap it around me.
I lunged for my phone, answering it with shaking hands. I couldn’t help but judge myself as I answered. “Will! I was starting to get worried!”
“Just got your message, what’s up?”
His voice sounded sleepy and warm. Soft, like flannel—like he was still in bed. Was it in his bed? A sour taste rose in my throat, but I forced it back down. “I tried to call last night. Hailey answered . . .”
“Yeah, she was holding my phone for me,” he said.
I wanted to ask why. I wanted an explanation for him being gone all night, for his weird tweets. For the reason he wasn’t waking up until three in the afternoon. Instead, I laid my towel on the bed and sat on it.
Shivering a little, I curled into myself. If I asked any of that, I might not like the answer. That’s not what I wanted. Or needed. I just needed Will to be there and for everything to feel right again.
My quiet went on too long, because Will said, “You there?”
Swallowing down all my anxiety, I nodded. “Yeah, I am. I just had the worst night. Dave’s not acting like himself, and the gig was . . . strange.”
With a muffled hmm, it sounded like Will rolled over. “Was he a dick?”
Suddenly, I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want him to think I had led Dave on. It was so generous of Will to be cool about the band. In his place, I’m not sure I would have been that chill. So I shook my head. “No. He was professional. The chemistry was just off.”
“You dumped the guy,” Will said reasonably. “I’m not surprised.”
“True.”
“Call me an asshole, but I’m actually kind of glad.”
Knitting my brows, I curled my toes anxiously against the carpet. “You are?”
I heard bedsprings and Will sitting up. His voice tightened, probably with a stretch. “You’re my girlfriend now. I don’t want him getting any ideas.”
Another wave of guilt rose in me. That was my opportunity to tell Will exactly what had happened. I even opened my mouth to do it. I don’t know what held me back. Probably fear. I was a coward, I could admit that. Everything felt so tenuous between us, I didn’t want to test it. As much as I wanted answers, I was terrified of losing him.
So what I said instead was, “You know I’m all yours.”
“As long as he knows it, too.”
Eager to get past this topic, I leaned over the edge of my bed. Water dripped from the curls that had escaped the loose bun on the top of my head. Each crystalline drop caught the sunlight as it fell, a little bit of ordinary beauty to distract me. “He does. But there’s something I don’t know . . .”
Amused, Will asked, “What’s that?”
Quoting his Twitter account, I said, “OTP come see me? What’s that all about?”
Will laughed. It sounded so good to me. Rich and sweet like honey, soothing me from the inside out. At least, until he followed it up with an answer.
“Omega Theta Pi. I’m rushing.”
TWENTY-SIX
The first thing I told Jane was, “Do not laugh at me.”
While she arranged her face, I peeled the breading off an onion ring and popped it in my mouth. Most people thought vegetarians were so healthy. Those people had never experienced the deep-fried wonder that was the Garden Fry at our favorite hangout, Planet Veg. Mushrooms, onion rings, french fries, green beans—yes, fried green beans. They were delicious.
Jane reached for the platter. “I’m not laughing at you.”
Slumping on the table, I dropped my head. I could barely look her in the eye. I knew she wouldn’t laugh. But I also knew that on the inside, she’d be howling. Waving a crispy bean like a baton, I moaned, “Will’s joining a frat.”
Jane didn’t laugh. She choked. Her face turned pink and she beat her chest until she caught her breath. Shaking her head slowly, she took her time. She took a drink. Then, after setting her glass back down, she asked, “Are you really surprised?”
My mouth dropped open. “Yes!”
Mirroring my expression, Jane blinked at me. “Why?!”
“Because he’s smart!” I exclaimed. Then I lowered my voice, because the people around us didn’t care and I was getting shrill. “Smart guys don’t join frats. They’re for meatheads and legacies and people who go to college to network the old boys’ club instead of getting an education and . . .”
Jane raised one eyebrow by increments, until it disappeared beneath her bangs. “Stop when you get to something that doesn’t apply to Will.”
Glowering, I said, “Let me repeat. He’s smart.”
“Okay.” Jane reached across the table to take my hand. “Personally, I find the Greek system emblematic of a privileged attempt to inject classism into an inherently classless society—”
I crossed my eyes at her. “Spare me, Margaret Mead.”
“More like Karl Marx,” she shot back. Then she went on. “But even I don’t think you have to be a certifiable idiot to join one. Like you said, they’re all about networking. Meeting the people who will get you jobs later in life. Oh, and also? Tons of beer, life off campus, and a party in your backyard twenty-four seven. Will Spencer is exactly that guy.”
Bristling, I took my hand back. “He’s not.”
With a sigh, Jane sat back in her chair. Awash in resignation, it was like she was waiting for me to come to my senses. When I didn’t, she spread her hands. “He was a jock all through high school. His mommy and daddy bought him a sports car for his sixteenth birthday. He was on both homecoming court and prom court, and he’s going to a school that costs forty thousand dollars a semester.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Oh, and also? He decided to pledge a frat. Case closed. Party animal graduates to frat brat, news at eleven.”
Clasping a hand to my forehead, I tried to force back the ache that sprang up at my temple. Those things were true, absolutely. But that’s not how I saw Will. I didn’t think it was the way Will saw himself, either. Jane was right, though—nobody was making him rush. He was doing it because he wanted to.
“I just . . . There’s, like, this innate thing inside me that got nauseated when he told me that. Like, it somehow changed my opinion of him the tiniest bit.”
Plucking a mushroom from the tray, Jane nodded. “Sorry, girl, but Will hasn’t changed. If you’d said he was joining Greenpeace, or decided to drop out and open a grow-op, then I’d be like, Bessie, take the reins!”
“Then why am I surprised?” I asked plaintively.
It was something I’d been wondering since I got off the phone with Will. My preconceived notions about what it meant to join a fraternity weren’t helping at all. But I’d visited a lot of campuses last fall, and Greek row always had two things in common: incredibly ornate mansions that screamed wealth, and a healthy garden full of red Solo cups on the porches. Or the lawns. Or both.
“You’re still wearing your rose-colored infatuation glasses,” she said.
My feelings for Will were deeper than infatuation. But Jane was right. I’d still been walking around in that glowy state, where everything seems perfect and nothing bad can ever happen. It was a hard crash to reality to realize that I didn’t know everything about Will. That he could surprise me. Disappoint me. Even hurt me.
Biting the mushroom in half, I let the earthly flavors fill my mouth. Silverware screamed on china; other people’s conversations filled my ears like the buzzing of bees. A heaviness filled my chest. Or, I think more accurately, a lightness left me. I wasn’t floating two feet off the earth anymore.
Filling the quiet in our conversation, Jane dragged a fry through ketchup and said, “Just promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t go running back to Dave
.”
I was stunned. Getting back together with Dave hadn’t ever crossed my mind. Not even a little. But it was like she opened the smallest door when she said it.
One bump in the road with Will didn’t mean I’d go running back to my ex. And that’s all this was, I decided, a bump. Things would get better. Everything would be fine. I’d see Will soon for homecoming, and we’d reconnect, and all would be well.
“That’s not an option,” I told her, and I meant it. I really, truly did.
~
Because I needed some air and to chase the sound of other people’s voices out of my head, I went back to the botanical garden.
The remnants of our private movie night there were long gone. But the ghosts of us, together, still lingered.
Sitting on the lawn, I crossed my legs. With my phone tilted to avoid the sun, I shot a message off to Will. I hated how carefully I felt like I had to word things. The last time we were here, it was perfection. I was drunk on freedom and love and the teasing spark of exploration. We played together; it all happened so seamlessly. Now it was all work, lined with doubts. My fingers felt heavy as I finally typed out my message. I wanted the joy back. I wanted it to be easy again.
can we talk for a few?
Though I didn’t watch the clock, I felt seconds ticking away. I tried not to think about Grace and her rate of return with Luke. I’d never understand her charts and graphs anyway. It was best if I kept my thoughts about me and Will separate from everybody else. Though some small part of me wondered if that was the problem all along.
The more I reflected, the more I realized I’d never spent time with Will and his friends. I’d never been part of his social circle. That public face, I’d seen from a distance all through school. That’s how he managed to sneak up on me at Tricia’s party. It wasn’t that long ago that I was incredulous to find out there was more to him than pretty, rich, and popular. It seemed like I’d known him for decades, but in reality, it had only been months.
Finally, Will replied. too much to txt?
While You're Away Page 19
