“Get out!” I yell.
He snaps out of it, slamming the door behind him.
“You okay?” Seth calls.
“Yeah, just a sec.” The dreamy private world has vanished. Now I’m annoyed.
When I open the door to Seth’s room, the warm, romantic atmosphere from before is gone. The room feels stark and cold. I get a whiff of dirty-laundry smell hovering under the cinnamon. The stench brings back my headache from the drive. Why do I always have to be the one to come here so we can spend the night together? If we got a hotel room, we could meet halfway in between. Driving four hours round-trip to be with Seth was fun at first. Now it’s getting old.
I hate that I’m still in high school. I hate that we can’t live together yet. I hate that Seth can’t come to my house without my parents getting all up in our business.
All I want to do is be with Seth. All the time. But it’s like, what are we doing? This long-distance thing sucks. We hardly see each other. We basically have a relationship over the phone. It’s like we’re spending more time with the fantasy versions of each other instead of the real us.
“What happened?” Seth asks when I get back in bed.
“Ick. Dorian walked in on me.”
“What?”
“It was my fault. I didn’t lock the door.”
“No, he should have knocked. What a dumbass. Did he see anything?”
“Just me peeing.”
“Oh, man. Sorry about that.”
“I’ve been through worse,” I say. Even though I can’t remember what was worse than having my boyfriend’s suitemate ogling me on their filthy toilet. Seth doesn’t need to know that it took a few seconds for Dorian to look away. They had enough drama last year over Dorian’s gaming addiction. I want to keep the peace.
“Here, snuggle up,” Seth says. He pulls me to him. The dreamy private world comes back a little.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asks.
“Hmm.” There are tons of fun things to do in Center City. Even hanging out around campus can be fun. But I can’t think of anything specific I feel like doing. “Not sure yet. Too tired.”
“Let’s sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
I’ll feel better when I know where I’m going to college. I’ll feel better when I can live closer to Seth. And I’ll totally feel better this summer. Only three more months till freedom. I cannot. Effing. Wait. Memories of Sea Bright float through my mind, warping and blurring as I drift off to sleep.
“This summer is going to be amazing,” I mumble.
Seth stays quiet.
“Right?” I ask.
“Um . . . I don’t know if I’ll be able to go to Sea Bright this summer.”
I’m suddenly wide awake.
“Why not?”
“I applied for an internship in Chicago. It’s for the whole summer.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t going to tell you until I found out if I got it.”
Our summer together in Sea Bright was the one thing I was looking forward to the most. And now it might not happen? And what’s this about an internship? Seth never said anything about applying for an internship.
“Where’s the internship?” I ask.
“At the Art Institute of Chicago.”
“I didn’t know you were thinking about art internships.”
“I wasn’t. I mean, Grant’s been talking to me about changing my major next year—”
“Seriously?” I sit up. I’ve been trying to convince Seth to switch to art forever. He never listens. But now Grant tells him and he wants to? “You didn’t tell me you were changing your major.”
“This is all new, Skye. This all just happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now. I haven’t seen you in a while and . . . I don’t know. It never came up on the phone.”
How can all this stuff be happening to Seth without me knowing about it? It’s like I don’t even know him anymore. If I applied for an internship or was thinking about changing my major, Seth would be the first person I’d want to tell. Why doesn’t he feel the same way?
I really don’t want to be like this. All nagging and interrogating Seth about why he didn’t tell me. But I can’t help it.
“So you might go to Chicago this summer,” I reiterate.
“Yeah.”
“For the whole summer.”
“If I get the internship.”
“Why didn’t you apply anywhere around here?”
“The deadlines had passed for most of the internships I wanted. There wasn’t anything local left to apply for.”
Visions of our perfect summer together shatter before my eyes. Am I horrible for hoping he doesn’t get the internship?
“Hey.” Seth reaches up to rub my back. “This is a really good internship. It could help me a lot if I change my major to art.”
“Well then. I hope you get it.”
“I’m sorry about the summer. But I probably won’t even get it. We’ll be back in Sea Bright just like you wanted.” His tone is calming, but I can hear a hint of sadness.
The edge of Seth’s blanket is frayed. A zigzaggy thread is sticking out. I pinch it between my fingers. If I pulled this thread, how long would it go? Would his whole blanket unravel?
Trying to fall asleep to the sounds of rowdy boys in the other room and Seth’s breath on my neck, I wonder what’s going to happen to us.
eighteen
Seth
if only i’d thought of the right words
CAN SOMEONE explain how we went from blissed-out lovesick territory to unrelenting tension overnight? Because I didn’t see this coming. At all.
Skye was fine when she got here last night. Everything was amazing. But then she came out of the bathroom and it was like she was a different person. She said she was tired. I thought she’d feel better in the morning.
Not so much.
Brunch at Diner on the Square was strained. We didn’t have our usual pep and zing. When Skye doesn’t bring the pep, I can’t bring the zing. Even the walk back to my dorm wasn’t comforting like it usually is.
“Why do you put up with that?” Skye gestures to Grant’s side of the room.
“That’s how Grant is. He’s not going to change.”
“But aren’t there rules about cleaning your room?”
“Not that I’ve seen.” Talking about Grant isn’t what I want to be doing with Skye right now. We still have the room to ourselves. If she doesn’t want to go anywhere, we should be taking advantage of the privacy.
Skye sits on my bed next to her bag. She wrinkles her nose at a dirty bowl on Grant’s desk. “Have you ever said anything to him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t control him.”
Skye rummages in her bag.
I sit down next to her. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing. I told you. I’m fine.”
“Except you’re not fine.”
She shrugs.
“So why are you telling me you’re fine?”
“I’m fine, okay? I’m just figuring out when I should leave. My parents have been insane and I have a ton of homework. And the drive is so long.”
“Look, I’m sorry you have to do all the driving. But it’s not like we can spend the night in your room anyway.”
“Why can’t we get a hotel room?”
“Where?”
“There are some nice hotels like twenty minutes from my house. You could take the train and I could pick you up at the station and drive us.”
“I can’t afford to pay for hotels all the time.”
“I’ll pay.”
“I don't want you to pay. I don’t have time to take the train up anyway. Putting myself through college means I can’t just take off work whenever I feel like it. This isn’t high school.”
“Excuse me?” Skye get
s off the bed. “What does high school have to do with it?”
I really didn’t want to get into this. Skye has no idea what I’m going through. I should have known this would happen that first night in Sea Bright, looking up at those massive houses on the hill. She can’t remotely relate to how worried I am about money. Saying she’ll pay for hotel rooms? Can’t she see how degrading that is?
“You just . . . you don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Your parents are going to pay for college, no question. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have to work all the time. I hate having to say no to concerts and dinners and things that I’d rather be doing because I don’t have the time or money.”
“So you’re mad at me because my parents have money?”
“No. I’m just saying that things aren’t as simple as they used to be.”
“You’re right. You used to care about what I said.”
“What are you talking about?”
“How many times did I say you should drop business and major in art? I tried convincing you so many times to follow your heart. But now Grant tells you and you’re doing it?”
“It was easy for you to say. You never have to worry about money.”
“What does money have to do with majoring in what you love?”
“Some of us can’t do whatever we want!” I yell. “You’re always going to be taken care of. It doesn’t matter what you major in or what you decide to do with your life. You never have to worry about surviving. But I’m not as lucky. ”
Skye leans against the door, crossing her arms tightly.
“You just . . . have these expectations. I can’t do whatever you want.” My head is screaming at me to shut up. Too bad I’m not listening. “Even just going out to dinner and a movie means I’m broke for a week after.”
“I said I’ll pay!”
“No, that’s not—I want to be able to take you out. When you told me about how you want to go out every weekend next year to all those expensive restaurants and plays . . . I’d love to be able to give you those nights. But I hope you’d be equally okay with just hanging out.”
“You’re acting like my life is perfect. I also have problems, in case you didn’t notice.”
“What, like Kara and Jocelyn being in a fight? How much longer are you going to let that drag on?” Kara and Jocelyn got in a huge fight right before our road trip. They haven’t talked to each other since. Skye’s been dividing her time between them. Every time we talk on the phone, she complains about being stuck in the middle of that stupid fight. Classic high school bullshit. They could make up tomorrow if Skye pushed them.
“You think I have control over them? They’re the ones who got in a fight. They’re the ones who put me in the middle.”
“You can choose not to be in the middle anymore.”
“How?”
“Tell them to get over it. Don’t girls usually make up like two days after saying they hate each other?”
“Um . . . no?”
“Why put up with unnecessary drama?”
“This isn’t unnecessary drama. This is my friends in a fight that will apparently never end. You know how stressful it’s been for me. Why can’t you be more supportive?”
“I have been supportive. I’m supportive every time you complain about it. It’s just . . . I’ve got bigger things to worry about than some high school fight. Some of us have real problems.”
Skye blinks at me. She grabs her bag.
“Yeah . . .” she says calmly. “I’m gonna go.”
“Please don’t go. I didn’t mean to—”
“No. Really. I need to leave.”
And then she’s gone.
nineteen
Skye
we’ve got to make it last
WHEN THE same group of loud girls piles into the back of my car like they did last weekend and the weekend before, I know I’m over Safe Rides.
Don’t get me wrong. Safe Rides is an excellent service for drunk kids who shouldn’t drive and for kids who have no other way to get home from parties. But there are so many other kids who get ridonculous wasted knowing I’ll be there to take them home. I see the same kids being stupid every weekend. It’s sad that their idea of fun is getting so drunk they can’t stand up. Then hurling in some bushes.
I’m not psyched to be driving these three girls home. They enjoy screaming about how they’re going to throw up in my car. Which I’ve luckily been able to avoid so far. Tonight the loudest, most obnoxious girl has a problem with me.
“So, like, you just drive drunk kids home? Instead of getting drunk yourself?” She tries to make eye contact in the rearview mirror.
“Pretty much.”
“Because you’re an uptight bitch?”
The other girls find this hysterical. One of them is laughing so hard she starts making retching noises.
“Do you need me to pull over?” I ask.
“No, it’s okay,” she slurs unconvincingly.
“Do you ever drink?” obnoxious girl presses me.
“Not really.”
“Not really as in you sometimes do, or not really as in never?”
“Drinking isn’t really my thing.”
“Oh! It’s not your thing! Hear that, ladies? Our driver here thinks she’s superior. I wonder how superior she’d be if I hurled all over her floor?”
“That vomit smell never leaves,” the third girl intones.
“Just tell me if you need me to pull over.” Why did I switch from One World to Safe Rides again? I could be painting an Earth Day poster right now.
Ever since that big fight I had with Seth three weeks ago, I’ve been throwing myself into school and activities and friends. Anything to take my mind off what’s been happening with us. Which I know is wrong. I should be trying to fix us. It just got too exhausting. We still talk, but not every single night like we used to. And we don’t stay on the phone as long. It’s like we’re pretending everything’s fine when we both know it’s not. I still don’t understand what happened. Why was I so mean to him? All this baggage I didn’t even realize I was dragging around suddenly split a zipper and burst open. Something snapped in Seth’s room that night. I used to feel like nothing could ever come between us, like the bond we have could never be broken.
Now I’m not so sure.
I said some harsh stuff. But so did Seth. He made me sound like a conceited princess who never has to worry about anything. He has no idea how stressful my life is right now. That whole thing about senior year being a breeze? Is only true about classes. Getting into college is a whole other issue.
My first college acceptance wasn’t an acceptance. It was a rejection. From Penn. I knew Penn was a long shot, but I had to at least try to get in. My grades aren’t bad or anything. They’re above average. They’re just not Ivy League material. I didn’t tell Seth I was applying. I didn’t want to feel even worse about myself when I had to tell him I didn’t get in.
Then I was accepted to Drexel and Philadelphia University. I was stoked. Those colleges are close to Penn. I’m still waiting to hear from Temple, which is about half an hour from Penn. Drexel’s campus practically touches Penn’s campus. It sucks that I would have to live in the dorms my first two years, but I could go over to Seth’s anytime. Things would be so much better if we could be together every day. So going to Drexel seemed like the best solution.
But then. I got accepted to New York University.
NYU was never part of the plan. I mostly applied to colleges in Philly. But the college advisor convinced me to apply to some really good colleges in case anything changed. Even though I told her nothing was going to change with Seth.
Only . . . things have changed. I’ve changed. I used to think Seth was all I needed to make me happy. Now I realize I need more.
There’s a big difference between NYU and Drexel. NYU is a much better college. How am I going to feel four years from now after I’ve graduated from Drexel and I
’m ready to start my career and the person who went to NYU gets picked over me for the job I want? Of course being with Seth is important. Of course I want to be with him every day. But I have to think about other parts of my life, too. Plus NYU is in New York City, which is way more exciting than Philly. Seth and I wouldn’t be that much farther away from each other than we are now.
I also got into San Diego State. In California. Which would be like starting a whole new life.
I haven’t made a decision yet.
After I drop the girls off at their houses, I drive over to Green Pond. Some kids from One World are having a bonfire. I could really use a s’more. Or twenty.
Jocelyn waves me over. The big, soft blanket she always uses for outdoor activities is spread out right near the bonfire. I sit down next to her.
“Did everyone get home safe?” Jocelyn asks. She always asks this after a Safe Rides shift.
“The important thing is that my car survived.”
“What happened?”
“Remember those idiot girls who had a burping contest last time?”
“Thanks, I was trying to forget them.”
“So was I. Until they threatened to hurl in my car again.”
“Evil skanks.”
“I think I’m done with Safe Rides.”
Jocelyn gasps excitedly. “Please say you’re coming back to One World!”
“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s so late in the year.”
“But we need help with our Earth Day fund-raiser. And everyone misses you. I miss you.”
“Ha.” I nudge Jocelyn like she’s joking. She looks serious. “What’s up?”
“I know I see you all the time. But I was sad when you left One World. That was our thing.”
“We have lots of things.”
“Not like One World. Not where I could count on seeing you for a little while every Thursday. It made me so jealous when you and Kara would do stuff without me, or when you’d call her instead of me. It made me feel like something in our friendship was missing.”
“Wow. I had no idea you felt that way.”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t say anything because I felt like a loser. It seemed like you were better friends with her than me.”
All I Need Page 12
