All I Need

by Susane Colasanti

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “I know.”

  “You know we’ll always be BFFs, right?”

  “Always.”

  Jocelyn looks over to where Luke is playing soccer with some other guys. He catches her looking and smiles. She blows him a kiss. Jocelyn is so happy with Luke. I wish I’d known that she felt bad before, though. I would have totally reassured her. It’s good that she’s with Luke. He appreciates how awesome she is. She’s completely confident around him now. After the whole crashing his boys’ night disaster, Luke calmed Jocelyn. He told her he liked her just the way she is and that she shouldn’t try to be anyone else. Jocelyn relaxed after that. It took her a while to trust that she’s enough for him. But she finally got there. She realized that if she can’t be herself around him, what’s the point?

  “Hey,” Kara says. She’s hovering tentatively by the blanket with a supercute boy. “This is Anton.”

  Jocelyn and I say hey to Anton. Then we just gape at his adorableness.

  Anton notices the soccer game. “You think they’ll mind if I join?”

  “You can totally join,” Jocelyn breathes.

  “Cool.”

  I try not to stare too hard as Anton jogs toward the game.

  “I didn’t know you were coming,” Jocelyn tells Kara.

  “We weren’t sure what we were doing.”

  “Want to sit?” I ask. We make room for Kara on the blanket.

  Seth was crazy when he said I could get Kara and Jocelyn back together. Or I thought he was crazy. Then I thought about it some more on the drive home. If I didn’t speak up, was either of them going to?

  I called an emergency meeting with Kara and Jocelyn at The Fountain. I wasn’t even sure if they’d show up. Jocelyn was the first to arrive. I waved to her from our couch.

  “What’s this about?” she asked.

  “I’m worried that I’ll be stuck in the middle of your fight for the rest of the year and we’ll graduate and go off to college and then what? You and Kara will never talk to each other again?”

  Jocelyn twirled the sash of her wrap dress around her finger.

  “New dress?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I made it.”

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. I know this fight is stupid. But we’ve been mad at each other for so long I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “That’s why we’re here.”

  Kara came in and stalked over to the couch. She didn’t sit down.

  “Ladies,” I said, “we need to end this. I can’t stand that we’re not best friends anymore. I hate that you guys haven’t made up yet. Don’t you?”

  Kara softened. She sat down next to me.

  “I’m listening,” she said.

  That was the start of the end of their fight. We sat on that couch for three hours, talking about everything that had been bothering us. Jocelyn and Kara found their way back to each other. They weren’t mad anymore. They were mostly exhausted that the Longest Fight Ever had gone on for so long. All of us wanted to get back to what we had before.

  I want us to stay friends forever. But I know that staying friends after we graduate means our friendship has to change. I have to keep hoping that we’ll all want to change with it.

  “So,” I say. “Anton.”

  Kara nods.

  “Is it official?”

  “Well, I broke up with Dillon last night, so—”

  “You what?” Jocelyn says. Kara called me last night after the breakup, but this is the first Jocelyn’s hearing about it.

  “We’d been growing apart for a while. We both knew it was coming. But Dillon went ballistic. He kept asking if there was someone else. At first I said it was about how we weren’t connecting anymore, but he finally made me admit I was interested in Anton. Then he went off on this tirade about how Anton wanted to break us up all along and I was like, ‘We’re not breaking up because of him. We’re breaking up because of us.’ I didn’t bother with the whole it’s-not-you-it’s-me thing. Because it really was both of us.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Jocelyn says.

  “You know what I realized?” Kara says. “Dillon was my Aidan, but Anton is my Big.”

  We nod contemplatively. Sex and the City has vivid moments of clarity. The whole Aidan vs. Big dynamic is one of them. With Aidan, you’re getting a fiercely loyal boyfriend who would do anything for you. The boy is an amazing support system and your best friend. Mr. Big is different. He’s not as reliable as Aidan. He’s not as eager to drop everything and come over to catch that mouse you swear ran under the bed. There will be stomach-churning days of uncertainty with Big. Questions like these will keep you up at night: Does he love me as much as I love him? Will he ever leave me? Why isn’t he calling me back? But you tolerate the unknown because what you do know is powerful. You connect with Big in a way you never have with anyone else. The chemistry is unreal. Being with Big is what it feels like to be with a soul mate. And soul mates are undeniable.

  I’m not sure if Seth is my soul mate anymore. We definitely had that Big connection. But he’s also like Aidan in a lot of ways. It is possible for a boy to be both your best friend and burning desire? Does the complete package really exist? Before Seth and I got in our fight, I would have said yes. But now . . . a lot came out that I didn’t know he was thinking. I don’t know if he’s the person I thought he was.

  I hate the distance between us. I hate what it’s doing to everything we could become. And I really hate feeling like I don’t know Seth anymore.

  twenty

  Seth

  tides have caused the flame to dim

  I KNOW I need to get a grip. Stop moping around. Start being my normal self again.

  But it’s hard.

  Why was I so heinous to Skye? I basically accused her of being a conceited snob. It’s not her fault she’s from money and I’m not.

  I wasn’t expecting Skye to walk out on me. That was cold. I thought I could trust her. What if I was wrong? What if she walks out every time I tell her something she doesn’t want to hear? She might walk out one day and never come back.

  Grant comes back to our room from class. He throws a pity glance in my direction. Maybe because ever since Skye left after our fight I’ve been a miserable wreck. Or maybe because I’m sprawled out on my unmade bed staring at the ceiling when I should be studying. I haven’t moved for a long time.

  Grant just stands there, staring down at me.

  “Take a picture,” I grumble. “It lasts longer.”

  He whips out his phone and snaps a pic.

  “You better not post that,” I warn.

  “Or what? You’ll be inspired to get out of bed and act like a member of the human species?”

  “No. But I would be inspired to hunt you down and strangle you.”

  “Dude.” Grant surveys my side of the room. “Since when is your side messier than mine?”

  He’s right. I haven’t felt motivated to clean since the fight.

  “That’s it.” Grant walks through the bathroom to Dorian and Tim’s room. “Hey, man,” I hear him say. “Time for the intervention.”

  “Game on, bro,” Tim says.

  Then Tim and Grant are hanging over me like they’re visiting some dying relative at the hospital.

  “What?” I say.

  “This,” Tim booms dramatically, “is an intervention.”

  “Yeah, I heard.” I smush a pillow over my face. “I don’t need an intervention. I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine,” Grant protests. “Not getting out of bed all day is not fine.”

  “I got out of bed yesterday.”

  “For one class. Not good enough.”

  “I go to the dining hall.”

  “Barely. Did you even eat today?”

  “Whatever, Mom.” I yank the pillow off my face. “Food is overrated.”

  “Can we talk about the real problem here?” Tim says.

  “Which is?”


  “Um, the fight you’re in with Skye?”

  “We’re not in a fight. We made up.”

  “Did you? Or did you just start talking again without resolving anything?”

  How does Tim know that? I called Skye right after our fight to apologize. She was sorry for what she said, too. That was about it. But when we talk now, it’s not the same. Skye was the person I couldn’t wait to tell when something awesome happened. Or when something awful happened. She was my best friend. And now it’s like . . . we still talk and stuff, but it’s not the same. The things we said came between us in a way I don’t know how to fix.

  There was more bothering her the morning of our fight, though. She was cranky the night before. She was all confrontational, like why didn’t I tell her about applying for the internship or changing my major. But I was only trying to protect her. I didn’t want her to stress out about some internship I probably won’t even get anyway. And it’s not like I wasn’t listening to her all those times she told me to switch majors. It wasn’t until Grant helped me figure out how I could use an art major to actually make a decent living that I was convinced. He went on this twenty-minute diatribe about design, graphics, marketing—every conceivable way to build a successful career with an art major.

  “Maybe things aren’t exactly resolved,” I admit. “We just need time.”

  “Time for what?” Tim challenges. “Time for Skye to find a new boyfriend who isn’t afraid to speak up?”

  “I did speak up. That’s what got me in trouble.”

  “Skye is perfect for you.” Grant says. “We can’t watch this. You need to get back to normal.”

  “How is that possible? Everything I said to her is already out there. I can’t take it back.”

  “But you can explain where it came from. So you have baggage. We all do.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got enough baggage for a bellhop, three U-Hauls, and my dad’s truck.”

  “Then tell her that. Explain who you are. Trust me, she wants to know.”

  Of course it would take a philosophy major to point out that Skye needs to know more of me in order to understand who I really am. The parts I was showing her weren’t enough. If I’m going to trust her with my whole heart, I can’t hide the parts I don’t like. I have to trust that she’ll still love me even with all of my flaws.

  “Get up,” Tim says. “Fine dining-hall cuisine awaits.”

  All I want to do is stay in bed and figure out the magic words I need to tell Skye. But I let the guys drag me to the dining hall.

  “I am so over make-your-own tacos,” Tim complains. “They used to be my favorite dinner. Now I can’t stand them.”

  “The brain is hardwired to absorb habits,” Grant says. “It might not have been that you enjoyed tacos per se, but rather your brain was used to going through the motions of expecting and making tacos to allow more energy for deeper thought processes. The concept is closely tied to—”

  “Okay, professor, thanks for sharing.”

  We get seats. The guys dig in. I have no appetite.

  A familiar girl’s voice says, “Hey, Seth.” Then Karen is standing by our table. Smiling down at me like I never broke up with her.

  “Hey,” I say back.

  “Hey, guys.”

  “Hey,” Grant says. Tim nods over a fried chicken leg.

  “So,” Karen says. “How’s it going?”

  “Okay.”

  “I haven’t seen you around.”

  “Yeah, no, I’ve been . . . busy.”

  “Oh. Well, I hope things clear up for you. It would be fun to hang out sometime.”

  How can she do that? Just come up to me like nothing ever happened, like we weren’t together, like she didn’t get dumped, and say that it would be fun to hang out sometime?

  “Uh . . . yeah,” I say.

  “How are your parents?”

  Mom came to visit me after the fight with Skye. She called the next day and didn’t like how I sounded. So she drove down to see me. I begged her not to, but there was no stopping her. She took me to a Mexican restaurant off campus for dinner. Being both good and cheap makes it a popular place.

  “Please eat something,” Mom said. A giant plate of enchiladas sat untouched in front of me.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You have to eat.”

  I glanced around at the other tables. I wasn’t in the mood to run into anyone I knew.

  Mom took a tortilla chip from the bowl between us. She broke it in half. “I have a new doctor,” she said. “He thinks he knows what was wrong with me.”

  “Really?”

  “Apparently, your dad leaving had a psychosomatic effect on me. All of that stomach churning was a symptom of anxiety.”

  “Why didn’t any of those other doctors figure that out?”

  “Probably because they only spent about three minutes with me. They didn’t ask much about what was going on in my life. They were only focusing on physical issues, not emotional ones.”

  I couldn’t believe Mom had to suffer all that time not knowing what was wrong with her. All because no one took the time to ask.

  “The good news is that we know now,” she said. “I’m feeling much better.”

  “That’s so good to hear, Mom.”

  “That’s not all.” Mom poured me more water from the pitcher on our table. It had lemons and limes floating on top. “Your dad and I had a long talk. Several long talks, actually.”

  I sat up straighter. “You did?”

  “Yes. He didn’t leave because of me. Well, he did, but not for the reasons I thought.”

  Mom told me that Dad had to take space in order to realize that she’s the love of his life. The rink was the one thing that represented their relationship the most. Everything it was when they were young. Everything they were when they first met. The free spirit side of him wanted to be free, to go out and chase that feeling. But Dad realized he was looking in the wrong place. He told Mom he was thinking about moving back home. If she’d have him back. It sounded like she would, but nothing’s definite yet. I’m really hoping it works out. The only way for them to get back what they had is to be together.

  Now Karen wants to know how my parents are. I can’t tell her everything that’s gone down since we were together. So I take the wishful thinking route.

  “They’re excellent,” I say.

  “I heard you’re working at Phantom Fountain. I used to go there all the time. Now we mostly hang out at Le Bus. Do you ever go there?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Grant and Tim are watching this exchange while stuffing their faces. Tim keeps shooting me looks like, Shut it down!

  “Anyway,” Karen says. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Later,” Tim shouts. After Karen walks away, he adds, “Much.”

  “Dude,” I say. “I have no interest in Karen. Relax.”

  “I just don’t want your priorities getting confused. Karen is hot.”

  “Scorching,” Grant confirms.

  “Who cares how hot she is? I just want to be with Skye.”

  Skye is obviously the one. We just never see each other. Despite our best efforts, that physical distance has translated into an emotional one.

  twenty–one

  Skye

  crying for the death of your heart

  SETH IS beyond stressed over finals. He told me not to come down this weekend. Which sucks because I haven’t seen him in forever and things are still weird between us. Last weekend I had to go to this fund-raiser whoop-de-do at my dad’s hospital. The weekend before that, Seth had to cover an extra shift at Phantom Fountain. The weeks we’ve been apart feel like years.

  Seth doesn’t answer when I call him. I call him again an hour later. He still doesn’t answer. I know he’s studying like a maniac for finals. But you’d think he’d pick up when he saw that I was the one calling.

  What if he’s not studying? What if he’s not alone?

  I call him again half
an hour later. Still no answer. The agony of the unanswered phone is the worst.

  I have to see him.

  He’s been working so hard. He’s probably freaking out right now even though he’s going to kill those exams. I picture Seth lying on the floor of his room, phone suffocated under a pile of Grant’s dirty clothes, reduced to a neurotic mess.

  He could really use a care package.

  True, he said not to come down this weekend. But surprising him with a care package doesn’t count. I’ll just drive down and give it to him. I won’t even stay over if he doesn’t want me to. He’ll understand that I was concerned about him. I’ll put in lots of his favorite treats, like Tastykake Butterscotch Krimpets and Jolly Ranchers and this bag of truffle popcorn I found at the gourmet shop a few days ago. I haven’t tried it yet. It’s probably not Palomar status, but it’s still truffle popcorn.

  This whole care package idea is pure serendipity. Jocelyn gave me a beautiful beaded bag for my birthday. The purple box it came in was so cute I had to save it. Now I dig the box out of my closet for Seth. I put some black tissue paper in it so it doesn’t look too girly. The bag of truffle popcorn goes in. This rad tape dispenser I was going to give him for his birthday goes in. It looks like an old-school cassette tape and says TAPE DISPENSER where you’d write on the label. I made Seth a friendship bracelet that I was going to give him the next time I saw him. Most of the ones Jade made him last summer have fallen off. I put the friendship bracelet in, too. Now all I have to do is stop at Wawa for the other things on my way down.

  I drive through the night to Seth, streetlights whooshing over me, electrified by the need to see him. Not just because I haven’t seen him for so long. I have some good news.

  I’m going to college in Philly.

  At first, Drexel sounded like the best idea. But then I looked into the course descriptions and campus life. I’ve been getting more and more excited about college. There will be so many campus activities and groups to join and new people to meet. I can’t wait to figure out what I want to do with my life. Who I really am. How I’ll make the world a better place. And of course I can’t wait for the freedom to see Seth as much as I want. But the most important thing is college. I don’t want to sacrifice the quality of my education for a boy. Even for a boy I love. Drexel wouldn’t have been enough for me. NYU is awesome, but I can’t be that far from Seth. I know that things will get so much better for us when we can see each other all the time.