either. But I can’t think that.
“You’re still hung up on Ella, aren’t you?” he asks, as if reading my mind once again. I don’t respond. “Why did you leave her again?”
“Because we moved. Because of . . . everything,” I say, pointing to him.
“Hey, don’t blame your poor relationship decisions on me, man. I kept mine going, even in jail. You’re the one whogave up.”
“I didn’t give up, I just—” I pause, because that’s exactly what I did. I gave up on her.
“Let me ask you something—if you were in my position, God forbid, would Ella come visit you in jail?”
“What did I do to land in jail?” I ask.
“Doesn’t matter. Answer the question.”
“I don’t know, I guess it depends on the situation, but, yeah, she’d probably visit,” I answer. “Well, I mean, she would have.”
“And if it was her?” he asks. I park the car and sit there. The thought of her in jail is preposterous, but going along with his line of questions, I guess he’s right. I would be there. I wouldn’t give up on her. So why am I letting her hurt now? When I can at least try to make things better?
Chris sees my face and nods. Like always, he knows what I’m thinking without me speaking. We used to think we had telepathy. We’d try it, try to send each other messages during dinner. Not surprisingly, it never worked.
“Think about it,” he says, patting me on the shoulder, and then opening the car door.
I will.
The next day I go to the bookshop. Cindy called for an emergency meeting on a Saturday, so I drive over there, but not before checking the mail.
I walk in and they’re both sitting there, grinning at me.They look possessed, crazed.
“What’s going on . . . ?” I ask, sitting down across from them.
“Can I tell him? No, you tell him. It’s your news, but OH MY GOD MATT,” Cindy shrieks, and my eyes widen. I look at Kat.
“You got your letter?” I ask.
She nods, a quick excitable nod.
“Out with it!” I command, and she explodes.
“I GOT INTO Boston University!”
“Oh my God!” I yell, jumping up to hug her. “When did you find out? That’s awesome. Congratulations!” I say everything at once, bumbling my words together. Cindy is dancing around, practically floating on air.
“Earlier today. I had to open it, I was just . . . like I said, I already had a few rejections,” she says. “But, oh my God!”
“That’s really awesome!” I say again excitedly.
“And she’s so close to me!” Cindy squeals. “It’s, like, a train ride away. Or a bus ride. Or a quick drive. Whatever. It’s doable.”
“It is,” Kat says, practically glowing. “I know it is,” she says again, taking Cindy’s hand. The transformation was easy for Kat, from nervous to certain. I hope my words might have helped her, but I’m pretty sure it was all Cindy.
Cindy blushes, and then turns to me. “So, yeah, that’s our big news. Now we’re just trying to pick out dorm room stuff, and ugh, it’s so hard.” She pushes a catalogue to meand points at a page of microwaves.
“Do you like the pink one or the purple one?” Cindy asks, pointing to two bright microwaves in a catalog.
“Does it have to be pink or purple?” Kat asks, flipping through the other pages.
“Yes, so it’ll go with my yellow mini refrigerator!”
“How did you find a yellow fridge?” I ask.
“Don’t ask,” Kat says, shaking her head. “I’d much rather pick out classes than this stuff,” she sighs.
“Well, hey, can I ask something else?” I say, twisting my watch.
“What’s up?” Cindy asks, looking up from her catalog. She looks me in the eye and when I start to smile, she shrieks. “YOU DIDN’T! YOU GOT YOUR WASHINGTON LETTER?! AND YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING?”
“Picked it up before coming here,” I say, placing my letter on the table in front of me. It’s thick, like Cindy’s was, so I’m optimistic. But still.
What if I don’t get in, what if my plan falters?
“You’re still hung up on Ella, aren’t you?” he asks, as if reading my mind once again. I don’t respond. “Why did you leave her again?”
“Because we moved. Because of . . . everything,” I say, pointing to him.
“Hey, don’t blame your poor relationship decisions on me, man. I kept mine going, even in jail. You’re the one whogave up.”
“I didn’t give up, I just—” I pause, because that’s exactly what I did. I gave up on her.
“Let me ask you something—if you were in my position, God forbid, would Ella come visit you in jail?”
“What did I do to land in jail?” I ask.
“Doesn’t matter. Answer the question.”
“I don’t know, I guess it depends on the situation, but, yeah, she’d probably visit,” I answer. “Well, I mean, she would have.”
“And if it was her?” he asks. I park the car and sit there. The thought of her in jail is preposterous, but going along with his line of questions, I guess he’s right. I would be there. I wouldn’t give up on her. So why am I letting her hurt now? When I can at least try to make things better?
Chris sees my face and nods. Like always, he knows what I’m thinking without me speaking. We used to think we had telepathy. We’d try it, try to send each other messages during dinner. Not surprisingly, it never worked.
“Think about it,” he says, patting me on the shoulder, and then opening the car door.
I will.
The next day I go to the bookshop. Cindy called for an emergency meeting on a Saturday, so I drive over there, but not before checking the mail.
I walk in and they’re both sitting there, grinning at me.They look possessed, crazed.
“What’s going on . . . ?” I ask, sitting down across from them.
“Can I tell him? No, you tell him. It’s your news, but OH MY GOD MATT,” Cindy shrieks, and my eyes widen. I look at Kat.
“You got your letter?” I ask.
She nods, a quick excitable nod.
“Out with it!” I command, and she explodes.
“I GOT INTO Boston University!”
“Oh my God!” I yell, jumping up to hug her. “When did you find out? That’s awesome. Congratulations!” I say everything at once, bumbling my words together. Cindy is dancing around, practically floating on air.
“Earlier today. I had to open it, I was just . . . like I said, I already had a few rejections,” she says. “But, oh my God!”
“That’s really awesome!” I say again excitedly.
“And she’s so close to me!” Cindy squeals. “It’s, like, a train ride away. Or a bus ride. Or a quick drive. Whatever. It’s doable.”
“It is,” Kat says, practically glowing. “I know it is,” she says again, taking Cindy’s hand. The transformation was easy for Kat, from nervous to certain. I hope my words might have helped her, but I’m pretty sure it was all Cindy.
Cindy blushes, and then turns to me. “So, yeah, that’s our big news. Now we’re just trying to pick out dorm room stuff, and ugh, it’s so hard.” She pushes a catalogue to meand points at a page of microwaves.
“Do you like the pink one or the purple one?” Cindy asks, pointing to two bright microwaves in a catalog.
“Does it have to be pink or purple?” Kat asks, flipping through the other pages.
“Yes, so it’ll go with my yellow mini refrigerator!”
“How did you find a yellow fridge?” I ask.
“Don’t ask,” Kat says, shaking her head. “I’d much rather pick out classes than this stuff,” she sighs.
“Well, hey, can I ask something else?” I say, twisting my watch.
“What’s up?” Cindy asks, looking up from her catalog. She looks me in the eye and when I start to smile, she shrieks. “YOU DIDN’T! YOU GOT YOUR WASHINGTON LETTER?! AND YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING?”
“Picked it up before coming here,” I say, placing my letter on the table in front of me. It’s thick, like Cindy’s was, so I’m optimistic. But still.
What if I don’t get in, what if my plan falters?
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