Read Online So Much Closer by Susane Colasanti - Free Book Online

Scott is to me. And I seriously doubt I can make her understand.
    “Talk about warped logic,” she mumbles.
    “I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” I explain. “You liked him a long time ago. He didn’t like you back. End of story.”
    “Here’s a flash: the world isn’t black and white. There are shades of gray. You should try being more compassionate sometime.”
    “And you should try supporting your friends. I gave up senior year with you guys. That’s how much this means to me. Why can’t you understand that?”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I tend to have a problem supporting my friends being backstabbing liars.”
    “When did I lie?”
    “You didn’t tell me you liked Scott. That’s the same as lying.”
    “I told you before I moved.”
    “That doesn’t count. The whole time you liked Scott, you never told me.”
    “Because I knew you liked him!”
    “So how do you think it feels that you followed him to New York?”
    “It doesn’t ... I’m sorry, but I can’t protect your feelings forever. I have to live my life.”
    “Go live it then,” Candice says.
    And then she’s gone.

Ten
    I like it here in the Zen garden. There’s no sign or anything saying it’s a Zen garden. That’s just the impression it makes. I like the tall grasses, the minimalist wooden benches, the stepping-stones. I like how it manages to be secluded in the middle of everything while street life rushes by all around. Sitting here in the stillness, I think about everyone back home.
    After Candice hung up on me last night, I felt so alone. April texted me after to say don’t worry and that Candice will get over it. I’m not convinced. She’s never been this angry before. But I really hope April is right. They’re pretty much the only friends I have. I guess you could count Sadie as a new friend, but it’s not the same. We don’t have a shared history. I didn’t realize how important that was until I left it all behind.
    Everything is so different here. You cannot believe how many stores there are on one block. When I first got here I just stood on Bleecker Street, astounded by the abundance. You can pretty much get whatever you want within a few blocks of your place. It’s unreal. And no one ever drives anywhere. New Yorkers take the subway or ride buses. They walk a lot. I’ve basically walked everywhere since I got here, which is a radical change. If you walked around back home, people would wonder what’s wrong with your car. But here it’s standard. People walk by you on the street remarkably fast, usually without even noticing you. Which is fine by me. I appreciate the anonymity. It’s awesome that I could be anyone, that I don’t have to be me when I’m sick of me.
    But at the same time, it’s kind of lonely. Dad’s hardly ever home. I don’t really know anyone at school. Things with Scott aren’t the way I’d hoped. I miss my mom. We’ve talked a few times since I left, but it’s not the same. Even though we weren’t really getting along, having her home every day mattered. Seeing my friends every day mattered. I really miss April and Candice. I miss the things we used to do.
    No more riding around in April’s new car, singing over the music.
    No more hanging out at Bean There after school, laughing about whatever.
    No more scamming on boys down the shore all summer.
    I take out my cell and call April.
    “Hello?”
    “Remember that guy down the shore who always put blue sunblock on his nose?”
    “Who?”
    “The guy with the blue nose. What was his name again?”
    “I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”
    “Yes you do! He dropped his funnel cake on your towel.”
    “Oh.” April’s voice fades, like she’s pulling away from the phone. “I remember now.”
    “Are you busy? I can call back later.”
    “No, I have way too much homework. Later is not an option.”
    Then there’s this awkward silence. Here in the Zen garden, tall grasses rustle in the breeze. I wonder what’s