by Benway,Robin
“What do you think?” my dad asked me.
“I think that Keith should go to jail or whatever. I mean, he did a really bad thing. But at the same time . . .”
“Punishing Keith punishes Oliver, too?” my dad guessed, and I nodded.
“It’s just hard to see him feel this bad,” I said. “Like, he didn’t do anything but he keeps getting hurt, anyway. I don’t like watching him go through this.”
My dad set down his food, too, then hopped up on the counter next to me. “So. You and Oliver.”
I looked up at him, surprised. “Me,” I said. “And Oliver.”
“Those are two very different sentences, Emmy. Look,” he added quickly before I could protest. “I saw you two at the table tonight. I know there was a lot going on, it got chaotic there, but I saw you two looking at each other. And I know what I saw.”
I was blushing furiously now, untucking my hair from behind my ear so my dad couldn’t see my face. “He’s always been my friend,” I said. “Even when he wasn’t here, okay? And he still is, even though we’re . . .”
“No, I know, sweetie. But Oliver has a lot of pain right now, and I don’t want you to take his burden on yourself.” My dad stroked my hair, eventually uncovering my face, and I let him.
“Dad, it’s, like, ten years too late to worry about that,” I said.
“I know,” he said again. “You saw a lot. Your mom and I tried to protect you from most of it, but Oliver was your friend and he disappeared and there aren’t many ways you can hide that from your kid.” He was still stroking my hair. “But I don’t want you to stay in that place forever. And I don’t want Oliver to stay there, either. You kids have a chance to move on.”
“It’s sort of hard when . . . when you don’t know how.” The words hurt even as I said them and realized how true they were. I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t been worried or scared for Oliver. How do you move on from that? I could feel tears pricking at my eyes. Do not cry, I told myself. Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry.
“Well, that’s growing up, isn’t it?” my dad said. “You don’t always have to know. And things aren’t always fair. You just have to keep moving forward. A step in one direction.”
“Do you think Maureen should do the TV show?” I asked after a few minutes, while my dad rubbed my back.
“I think.” My dad thought for a minute. “I think that both Maureen and Oliver want answers that they might never get. And they need to figure out how to deal with that.”
I looked up at my dad. “Tonight, when Oliver and I were talking, I said I’d still love you, even if you kidnapped me. I really would. I get how he feels.”
My dad smiled. “That’s the nicest and most sociopathic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I said, then wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. I suddenly wanted to tell him everything—UCSD and surfing and kissing Oliver at the party—but I stopped myself.
One thing at a time.
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HarperCollins Publishers
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The buzz at school started quietly at first, like one tiny mosquito that kept floating around near you, but always just out of reach so you couldn’t squish it. Then it got progressively louder after lunch, and by the time school ended, it was like someone had smashed a wasps’ nest full of gossip onto the floor.
“Why’s everyone freaking out?” I asked Drew once I ran into him. I mean, literally ran into him. He was wearing his soccer uniform and carrying his cleats in one hand.
“UCs are notifying people!” he yelled as he kept running. “Sorry, the bus is leaving! Away game!” He blew kisses in my general direction as he turned the corner, and to be honest, it was a good thing he couldn’t talk.
Because I had gone numb.
The admission letters had arrived. The yes or no I had been waiting for for four months—no, actually, more like four years—was sitting in an in-box somewhere for me, and I suddenly felt terrified no matter what the answer would be.
What was I supposed to do? I immediately started to text Caro, just out of pure instinct, but stopped before I could even start. I couldn’t tell Caro, not yet. She didn’t even know that I had applied to UCSD. In fact, only one person in the entire world knew what I had done, and I needed to find him immediately.
Oliver was coming out of the guidance counselor’s office when I bumped into him. He was scowling a little and had a tight grip on both straps of his backpack, but he smiled when he saw me. “Hey!” he said. “Why are you still—wait, what’s wrong?”
I just shook my head and Oliver bent down and grasped my shoulders. “Em. You’re totally white right now. Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“Acceptance letters are in,” I whispered, and Oliver’s eyes grew as wide and round as I knew mine were.
“They are?” he whispered back. “What did it say?”
“I don’t know!” I was starting to feel a little hysterical. “I haven’t looked yet! And I can’t go do it at home because my mom’s there and she . . .”
“Got it,” he said. “What about the library?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what the news is, or how I’m going to react, but either way, I don’t want to have my reaction in the school library!”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Oliver squeezed my arms again and I took a deep breath. “You can’t just check it on your phone?”
I glanced at my phone. “I have two percent battery—wait, now it’s one percent battery—left.”
“Okay, what if—oh, wait! Oh my God—ballet!”
“Oliver, only one of us can have a meltdown right now, and I don’t know what you mean by—”
“No, I mean, my mom took the twins to ballet class and Rick’s up in San Jose on a business trip! No one’s home! You can check on my laptop there.”
“But we’re not supposed to be alone in the house together,” I said.
“Emmy!” Oliver gave me a small shake. “Are you serious right now?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know! Let’s go!”
I drove back to our houses in record time, my hands shaking even as they gripped the wheel. “I think I’m going to throw up,” I told Oliver.
“No, you’re not,” he said.
“No, I really think I am. What have I done? Why did I think this was a good idea?”
“Because you’re smart and want to join the surf team and move out of your parents’ house.”
“Those are pretty good reasons,” I admitted.
“They are,” he agreed.
I parked my car around the corner so my mom wouldn’t see it, then Oliver and I ran down the street and let ourselves in through the back door. The house was quiet, with some pink plastic cups sitting half full on the countertop and a small purple hoodie left slung over a chair. “Oh, no, Nora forgot her jacket,” I said.
“Worry about it later,” Oliver told me, hustling me up the stairs to his room. It smelled different from the rest of the house, like Oliver. Maureen’s scented candles from Anthropologie hadn’t made it this far, apparently. “Okay,” he said, opening up his laptop. “Type. Do whatever.”
I sat down at the keyboard, then froze. “Emmy,” Oliver said, his voice softer this time as he knelt down next to me. “The answer’s not gonna change now. You might as well open it.”
“Good point,” I said, but I didn’t move my hands. “Can you, um? Do you mind just standing over there?” I gestured toward his bed. “I want to read it by myself first, whatever it says.”
He moved without even questioning it and I took another shaky breath, let it out slowly, then typed in the admissions address. A few clicks later and I saw the letter waiting in my in-box.
I opened it and read it.
Then read it again.
Then read it once more just to make sure.
“Emmy?” Oli
ver sounded hesitant. “Are you . . . is it . . . ?”
“Dear Emily,” I started to read out loud, then stopped for a second so I could catch my breath. “Dear Emily, Congratulations! I am delighted to offer you admission to the University of California, San Diego for fall—”
“YESSSSS!!!!” Oliver grabbed me out of the chair and up into his arms and I squealed with laughter, a sound of pure delight.
“Oh my God!” I cried against his shoulder, and then I couldn’t hang on to him tight enough. “I got in!”
“You got in!” He swung me in a circle and I laughed again. “You’re going to college!”
“I’m going to college!” I cried, because in that moment, I didn’t care what my parents said, I didn’t care what anyone said. I had done it all on my own. This was all mine.
“C’mere,” Oliver said, and then he was kissing me while still holding me up. I kissed him back, dizzy from happiness and adrenaline and the spinning. Eventually, we made it back to his bed and I collapsed into the sheets, still kissing him, not letting him go anywhere.
Oliver had no problem with that.
“Good thing you’re a better kisser than a surfer,” I teased him in between kisses, moving his hair back so that it wouldn’t get in the way.
“Well, college girls turn me on,” he replied, then leaned in again as I started to giggle. He kissed my jaw instead, then right below my ear, and I instinctively turned toward him.
That’s when we heard the garage door start to mechanically grind open.
“Shit!” I cried, and we sprang apart. I slammed the laptop shut and grabbed my car keys while Oliver straightened the bed and then his shirt. We were both breathing hard, both flushed, and even though I was a minute away from being busted by Oliver’s mom and two prima ballerinas, I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Hurry,” he said. “Use the back door again.”
“Okay,” I said, then grinned at him.
“Are you trying to get us both grounded?” he hissed, but he had a pretty dopey smile on his face, too. “Go! Get out of here! Go research dorm rooms or something.”
I grabbed his hand and kissed it one last time, then disappeared down the stairs and out the back door just as the laundry room door started to open. “I’M SO COLD—” I could hear Nora start to say as I slid the door shut behind me, and I turned and went past a row of sago palms, tall enough to hide me from the windows.
“I’m going to college,” I whispered to myself once I was back in the car, and when I adjusted the rearview mirror, I didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection.
But I liked what I saw.
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HarperCollins Publishers
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I managed not to text either Drew or Caro that night, and at dinner my mom said, “Why do you have a funny little smile on your face?”
“Oh, just happy,” I said, shoving around some rigatoni on my plate. Did they have rigatoni in the campus cafeterias? Maybe I should try being a vegetarian. “No big deal.”
My mom eyed me, but said nothing more. I could tell she thought my smile was Oliver related, and I decided that that was probably safer than her realizing the truth. I was going to have to tell my parents at some point, but I was hoping it could be in the future. Like, the way future. Possibly once I was a grandmother.
By lunchtime the next day, though, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Caro!” I said when I saw her in the hallway. “Caro! Best friend for life! I have to tell you something!”
She stopped in her tracks and pulled out her earbuds so I could hear the tinny music blasting. How she doesn’t go deaf is beyond me. “Well, you can tell Drew, too,” she said, gesturing over my shoulder to our friend as he came walking over.
“Hallway meeting!” he said, flinging his arm around my shoulder. “I’m thinking of inviting Kevin to my grandmother’s big seventy-fifth birthday party extravaganza. What do you think?”
“Snore alert,” Caro said.
“Can’t you just take him to a nice dinner instead?” I asked. “And yeah, what Caro said.”
“Duh, we’ve already been to dinner, like, three times. I don’t know how much more unlimited salad and bread sticks I can handle.”
“I love the bread sticks,” Caro said dreamily. “God, I’m starving.”
“I just want my family to meet Kevin,” Drew said, and underneath the eagerness of his voice, I could hear everything he didn’t dare say out loud: I want my family to want to meet Kevin. “And everyone will be there at the restaurant and Kane will be there, so it’s not like I’m going in alone and . . .” He stopped and took a breath. I realized that he was wringing his hands in front of him.
“Drew,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “You should invite Kevin. If everyone else is bringing a guest, you should be able to, too.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Drew said, waving my words away. “I’m just worried that Kevin doesn’t want to meet my family.”
“Well, he’s already met Kane,” Caro pointed out. “That’s about as exciting as it’ll get.”
“True,” Drew said. “And there will be alcohol.”
“Tell him it’s like a booze cruise, only no boat and your grandmother will be there,” I suggested. “That’s a good sell.”
“And cake!” Caro added. “Who doesn’t love cake? Oh my God, seriously, can we go eat lunch now?” She looked pained.
“Wait, I still have news!” I said.
“Let’s walk and talk,” Drew said. “I have to head over to yearbook.”
“Can you ask them to cut back on all the picture taking, by the way?” Caro asked as we started to make our way through the hall and toward the quad. “Not every aspect of high school life needs to be commemorated.”
“Not every student hates school the way you do, Caro,” I told her, linking arms with her. “Some of us might want to remember it.”
“If Caro had her way, the yearbook would be a pamphlet,” Drew added.
“On my island,” Caro muttered. “Okay, Emmy, hit it. The big news.”
I stopped walking and turned to face them. Caro looked pained that we weren’t heading in the direction of food anymore.
“The big news—” I started to say.
“Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” she said.
“You’re pregnant?” Drew said in the loudest whisper possible. “Is it Oliver’s?”
“What?” I cried. “No, I’m not pregnant! What the hell, Caro? Do you really think I’d be announcing that in the hallway at school?”
Caro shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve never told me you’re pregnant before. I don’t know what the rules are.”
“I’m not pregnant!” I said again. “This is how terrible rumors get started! Talking to you two is like playing a sick game of telephone!”
“If you are, though,” Drew said, “then you should be on 16 and Pregnant because then Caro and I will get airtime as your supportive best friends and then you’ll probably end up on Teen Mom and make some really good money.” He nodded sagely, the oddest and youngest financial planner ever.
I just stared at both of them. “You two are the worst best friends in the history of existence.”
Caro just grinned and hoisted her backpack up farther onto her shoulders. “Well, whatever you’re going to tell me is going to be really disappointing now.”
“Thanks,” I said, then took a deep breath. “Okay, here the actual news. I got into UCSD.”
“Oh my God!” Drew said, then reached forward and grabbed me up in a hug. “Congratulations! Wait. Did I even know you applied?”
“No,” Caro said, but her voice was oddly flat. “I didn’t know you applied, either, Emmy.”
I hugged Drew back, then pulled away to see Caro’s stony face regarding me with . . . well, I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t exactly pride or happiness. “I didn’t tell anyone,” I said. “I just d
id it to see if I could get in. And I did!”
“And you did,” Caro repeated. “When were you planning on telling me, though?”
I glanced at Drew, who gave me the “you’re on your own with this one” look. “Um, right now?” I said. “I couldn’t obviously tell you that I got in until I knew whether or not I had, Caro.”
“Because it’s not like we had plans to go to community college together for the next two years or anything?” she replied.
“Plans?” I asked. “I don’t remember having plans. We talked about it, yeah, but we didn’t—”
“Did you tell Oliver?” Caro continued like I wasn’t even speaking.
“He knows that I got in.” Why was I starting to feel so defensive about this? Wasn’t Caro supposed to be happy for me? That was Rule Number One in the Best Friend Handbook, right?
“No, I mean, did you tell him you applied?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes. But Caro—”
“Fucking forget it,” she said, then started to walk away.
“Caro!” I yelled after her, but she waved her hand at me and kept walking.
I looked at Drew. He looked at me. “I’m out,” he said, holding up his hands. “This is between you two, not me.”
“Great, thanks,” I said, still watching Caro as she slipped around the corner. “I guess I have to go after her now.”
“Probably a good idea,” Drew agreed. “You shouldn’t let Caro stew for too long or she gets . . .”
“Yeah,” I sighed. I knew what he meant. Caro was an excellent stewer. She could turn a splinter into a redwood if she thought about it long enough. “Talk to you later?”
“Go, before her head explodes,” Drew replied, and I hurried off after Caro. “Hey, Emmy, wait!”
“Yeah?”
Drew smiled at me. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Drew.” I smiled back at him. And then it hit me. In six months, we wouldn’t see each other every day, that we’d be in separate schools—separate parts of the state—for the first time in our lives.
