A Sense of the Infinite

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Authors: Hilary T. Smith
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was something I was supposed to say. There wasn’t, so I stuffed it into my pocket and left.

23
    AT LUNCH, I WAVED THE PIZZA coupon at Noe and Steven.
    “I’m off the hook with Señor Bob,” I said.
    “That’s no fun,” said Steven. “You didn’t even get to show him your self-portrait.”
    “He loved the journal,” I said to Noe. “The Rice Krispie square was a masterstroke.”
    She put her arm around my shoulder. “Anytime, doll. Anytime.”
    That afternoon, I went to the Java Bean with Noe and Steven, and Oliver walked in. I had to go hide in the bathroom while Noe ordered a coffee for me.
    “Was that your orchid house lover?” said Steven when I came back. “He ordered a very large cruller.”
    I groaned and sank down in our booth until I was practically under the table, and Noe had to drag me back up. “Leave her alone, Steven.”
    “What? What? He’s a big guy. Big guys eat big donuts. Did I say something weird?”
    Noe put her hand over his mouth to shut him up before I died of mortification. “Just. Stop. Talking,” she said.
    I guess the movies had gone okay. Noe and Steven seemed better than ever. I snuck a glance at them across the table, quietly pleased with the way they snuggled together, matching hearts drawn on both their hands in red ink. It was good to see two people I liked loving each other. It filled me with vicarious warmth.
    I picked up a wooden stir stick and waved it in the air above their heads.
    “What are you doing?” Noe said.
    “Anointing your union.”
    They giggled and bowed their heads, giddy smiles creasing their faces while I dipped the stick in coffee and shook it over them again and again.
    It felt like Oliver should have been in Alaska already, but I saw him again at the Walmart, and again from the car window,walking down the street with a Super Gulp from the 7-Eleven, while Mom and I were driving to Nan’s house for dinner.
    Finally, I saw online that he had left for Alaska, so I didn’t have to worry about him anymore. On Halloween, Noe, Steven, and I dressed up like pirates and hung out at Noe’s house handing out candy. Afterward, we went on a long, rambling walk around the neighborhood, through the graveyard, and past the big construction site on the edge of Lorian Woods and back through the park where the ground was wet and squishy and the chestnut tree had lost its leaves.
    When we got back to Noe’s house I waited, gazing at my shoes, while Noe pressed Steven up against his car and they kissed for what felt like forever. After a while, I glanced up. I could see the top of Steven’s head poking up above Noe’s swirls of hair. They didn’t seem to be kissing anymore, but their foreheads were pressed together. Noe said something and I heard Steven laugh. It was just a scrap of laughter, but it stood out like a spray of pink flowers on the side of a muddy road. It had a note of delighted wonder, of celebration at one’s own dumb luck.
    Noe came speed-walking up the driveway as he drove away, her cheeks flushed.
    “He said it,” she blurted.
    I hooked my arm through hers and hurried into the house with her.
    “Noe,” I exclaimed. “Noe!”
    Steven had said I love you . And Noe had said it back. In her room, we danced around in our pirate costumes.
    “Everything’s happening,” we said over and over, until it turned into a magic spell, an incantation, sweeping us out of Noe’s bedroom and into the great rushing hugeness of the rest of our lives.

24
    THE SECOND WEEKEND OF NOVEMBER was Gym Expo Northeast. It wasn’t a meet, exactly, but a big gathering where you could take workshops, watch demonstrations by university gymnastics, cheerleading, and dance teams, shop for fancy leotards, and collect free samples of energy bars. Noe and the other advanced girls had raised money to go last year. I’d helped out at the car wash, standing on the corner waving a cardboard sign. In practice on Thursday, it was all anyone could talk about. They were going

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