do, what I should say, how I’m supposed to feel. The one thing I do know is that I feel horrible for Ava.
“And the worst part,” she says, “is that he acted like it was my fault that we grew apart.”
“Well, you weren’t really around that much this summer,” I say carefully.
“Like you can blame me?” she says. “I was away following my dreams. And besides, being apart for a summer isn’t enough reason to break up with someone.” She pauses, like she wants me to say something, but I don’t. Mostly because I don’t know if she really was following her dreams. Ava’s never expressed interest in any kind of career path. In fact, she always kind of acts like even talking about things like that is stupid. She’s never said she wants to be a teacher or a counselor, or even that she wants to work with kids. And it wasn’t like she got some great internship in Paris that she’d been wanting. She got a last minute summer job as a camp counselor in Maine.
We’re silent as Ava finishes her makeup. Then she takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders and gives herself a big smile in the mirror. “Getting my teeth whitened,” she says, “was so the right choice.”
She starts to walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To class,” she says.
“You’re going to go to class?”
“Hannah,” she says. “I’m not going to ruin my senior year grades because of some guy.” And then she pushes through the door and slips out into the hall, not even waiting for me to follow. I wash my hands in the sink, then take a piece ofspearmint gum out of my bag and pop it into my mouth. I leave the bathroom and start walking to my own class, my footsteps echoing through the empty hallway and my mind racing. Did Noah break up with Ava because of me? Is he going to try and talk to me now? Was he just waiting to talk to Ava before he came up to me? How upset is Ava really? Is there a chance she might get over it pretty quickly? Does she even—
I round the corner toward C-wing and almost smack right into Noah.
“Oh!” I say. I reach out to steady myself and end up grabbing his shirt, and for a second, I’m afraid I’m going to pull him close to me, but I don’t. I take a step back. “Sorry,” I say, “I didn’t . . . I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He’s so close that I can see the curve of his collarbone, the top of his T-shirt, the way the hood of his sweatshirt is twisted a little bit in the back. “It’s fine,” he says. I take a breath and look up at him and his eyes meet mine. Tingles rush through my body and I wait for him to say that he broke up with Ava, that we should meet up after school to talk about everything, that we should figure everything out together.
But all he does is brush by me as he goes down the hall. And so I blink back my tears and head to third period.
The Summer
“What are you doing?”
I look up from where I’m sitting on the front porch (well, technically sprawling since I’m laying on my back with one arm and one leg hanging over the side and onto the cobblestone path that leads to our driveway). I haven’t moved since Lacey dropped me off an hour ago. Actually, that’s not really true. About a half an hour ago I realized I had to go to the bathroom, so I did. And then I wandered into my bedroom for a second, where I did something very stalkerish that had to do with Sebastian and Facebook. (It totally didn’t violate the agreement I made with Lacey, since that was limited to driving by people’s houses. Even so, I still feel a little guilty.) But then I came right back to the porch. Talk about a complete and total regression.
I look up to see who’s talking to me—Noah. Probably here to yell at me for looking at his computer. Whatever. There’s nothing he can say that can make me more upset than I already am.
“Nothing,” I say. “I’m just . . . sitting.”
“But you’re not sitting,” he says. “You’re
“And the worst part,” she says, “is that he acted like it was my fault that we grew apart.”
“Well, you weren’t really around that much this summer,” I say carefully.
“Like you can blame me?” she says. “I was away following my dreams. And besides, being apart for a summer isn’t enough reason to break up with someone.” She pauses, like she wants me to say something, but I don’t. Mostly because I don’t know if she really was following her dreams. Ava’s never expressed interest in any kind of career path. In fact, she always kind of acts like even talking about things like that is stupid. She’s never said she wants to be a teacher or a counselor, or even that she wants to work with kids. And it wasn’t like she got some great internship in Paris that she’d been wanting. She got a last minute summer job as a camp counselor in Maine.
We’re silent as Ava finishes her makeup. Then she takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders and gives herself a big smile in the mirror. “Getting my teeth whitened,” she says, “was so the right choice.”
She starts to walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To class,” she says.
“You’re going to go to class?”
“Hannah,” she says. “I’m not going to ruin my senior year grades because of some guy.” And then she pushes through the door and slips out into the hall, not even waiting for me to follow. I wash my hands in the sink, then take a piece ofspearmint gum out of my bag and pop it into my mouth. I leave the bathroom and start walking to my own class, my footsteps echoing through the empty hallway and my mind racing. Did Noah break up with Ava because of me? Is he going to try and talk to me now? Was he just waiting to talk to Ava before he came up to me? How upset is Ava really? Is there a chance she might get over it pretty quickly? Does she even—
I round the corner toward C-wing and almost smack right into Noah.
“Oh!” I say. I reach out to steady myself and end up grabbing his shirt, and for a second, I’m afraid I’m going to pull him close to me, but I don’t. I take a step back. “Sorry,” I say, “I didn’t . . . I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He’s so close that I can see the curve of his collarbone, the top of his T-shirt, the way the hood of his sweatshirt is twisted a little bit in the back. “It’s fine,” he says. I take a breath and look up at him and his eyes meet mine. Tingles rush through my body and I wait for him to say that he broke up with Ava, that we should meet up after school to talk about everything, that we should figure everything out together.
But all he does is brush by me as he goes down the hall. And so I blink back my tears and head to third period.
The Summer
“What are you doing?”
I look up from where I’m sitting on the front porch (well, technically sprawling since I’m laying on my back with one arm and one leg hanging over the side and onto the cobblestone path that leads to our driveway). I haven’t moved since Lacey dropped me off an hour ago. Actually, that’s not really true. About a half an hour ago I realized I had to go to the bathroom, so I did. And then I wandered into my bedroom for a second, where I did something very stalkerish that had to do with Sebastian and Facebook. (It totally didn’t violate the agreement I made with Lacey, since that was limited to driving by people’s houses. Even so, I still feel a little guilty.) But then I came right back to the porch. Talk about a complete and total regression.
I look up to see who’s talking to me—Noah. Probably here to yell at me for looking at his computer. Whatever. There’s nothing he can say that can make me more upset than I already am.
“Nothing,” I say. “I’m just . . . sitting.”
“But you’re not sitting,” he says. “You’re
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