Like Ags said, it’s the start. Not the end.
Lucas storms off, leaving me still flipping through my own thoughts as he mutters some choice words I probably, at least a little bit, deserve. But boy is he lucky I don’t have any punch.
* * *
Sammie’s driving us home, looking a little dejected after overhearing Wes tells Ags he’s going to drive over to Lindsay’s house to check up on her. Since he’s already in a mood, I decide now’s as good a time as ever to ride my wave of honesty.
“So, we talked about what I said the other night about Talia. But we never really talked about what you said about me.” I turn down the radio and tuck my chin against my chest. Sammie stops tapping his long fingers on the dashboard and looks at me. I take a deep breath. “You called me a coward. You threw all my insecurities about love and rejection into my face to make yourself feel better. And I know you were upset, but is that really how you see me?”
Sammie pulls over. He kills the engine and stares at his hand, frozen on his keys in the ignition. “I’ve liked Lindsay since I was thirteen. I watched her date guy after guy, watched myself date girl after girl, and let every opportunity I had to tell her how I felt slip through my fingers. And then Wesley came along. And I want to hate him; I mean, I kind of do, but he had the guts to do what I couldn’t, that bastard.” He chuckles to himself and rubs his face. “Sorry, this isn’t about me and Lindsay. I’ve just always seen the way you let yourself feel things. Maybe you don’t always shoot your shot, but you don’t front about wanting to. So when you and Wesley got all chummy, and then he stepped up and went for Linds, I guess I kinda hated you for a minute too. Because I couldn’t put my feelings for Lindsay over my fear of being honest with her about how much I cared.
“I was an ass about it, to you, to Linds, and especially to fucking Wesley.” He looks up, tilting his head and smiling a little. “I’m so sorry, O. I made my shit your shit. I’m sorry that I said and did stuff in the past that made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about Talia. And I’m sorry I called you a coward. You’re not, and you never have been.”
“Thank you,” I reply, leaning over to ruffle his hair a little. “You finally managed to give a good apology.”
He laughs as he turns the car back on and pulls into the street again. “Yeah, well, let’s hope I stop doing shit that requires me to apologize.”
“Unlikely. But I, for one, still have a few rounds of apologies to get through before graduation.”
“Better get to it, then, Rojas.”
“Sammie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth about what was going on with me.”
He brakes suddenly, and I thank God we’re at the end of an empty street or he probably would’ve gotten us killed just for dramatic effect. “No,” he says firmly, staring me down. “You don’t apologize for that. Apologize for calling me Samuel when you really want to call me an asshole, or apologize for forgetting at least twice a year that I don’t eat meat that isn’t halal while still scolding your mom for forgetting. But don’t apologize for not coming out before you were ready.”
“Okay,” I say, biting back a smile. “But can I apologize for what I’m going to say next?”
He continues driving. “Depends.”
“You’ve still got another stop to make on your apology tour.”
“Don’t worry—I’ll apologize to your parents for breaking in and screaming at their daughter.”
“No, that’s not—okay, yeah, actually, you probably should do that. But I meant Wesley.”
If we weren’t pulling up to our houses already, I’m sure he’d slam the brakes again. “Oh, come on.” He throws back his head. “Can’t I just be extra nice to him until graduation and call it a year? I’ll even sign his yearbook and everything.”
I reach over and pat him on the knee. “Not gonna cut it, buddy,” I say patronizingly, and he flips me off, the way I hoped he would. “So, what happens now with you and Linds?”
“Ugh, I don’t even know. I mean, I’m still heartbroken or whatever. And it could be hindsight or just some defense-mechanism shit, but besides flirting, I don’t know if what Linds and I had was ever even real, especially since we’ve never even sat down and talked about it. I’ve seen her with Wesley, and I think it’s more than just chemistry with them.” He gags. “I guess what I’m trying to say is there’s something kinda relieving about all this bullshit being over, even if I’m sad. I don’t know what that means for the two of us as friends, but for me, I think it means freedom to see what else is out there. College is all about exploration, right?”
“Cheers to that.”
We say farewell, joking about having nothing big planned for the weekend, but just as I’m opening my front door, Sammie shouts my name from his porch.
“What?” I shout back.
“You didn’t have to, but I’m really glad you told us!” he yells. He waves and goes inside, but I’m frozen with such overwhelming relief, the kind I missed yesterday, that I nearly collapse right there.
I don’t though, because I still have a long list of things to do before tomorrow, the first of which being all those damn corsages and boutonnieres I agreed to make.
* * *
“Uh, I’m pretty sure I’m doing this wrong,” Wes warns, looping ribbon intensely in his lap. I accidentally prick my finger on a thorn and immediately pop it into my mouth. “You don’t look much better off though.”
We’re sitting on a blanket in my backyard, surrounded by bundles of baby’s breath, ribbons of every possible color from Ags, and clippings of various roses. I texted Wesley to see how Linds was doing once I got home and casually mentioned I needed an artist’s help. I could’ve asked Sammie—this didn’t really require an artist—but after everything, it felt right to ask Wes.
“That’s fine, but if you mess up Agatha’s corsage, know my death is on your hands,” I say. “Actually, same goes for your date’s.” He blushes.
My time crunch made it easier to decide on everyone’s final roses, especially because it didn’t give me the chance to mourn having to choose roses that weren’t “their” roses. For Linds, and subsequently Wes, I picked out three Honor roses, the classic white perfectly fitting for a prom queen and her date. For Ags I picked Keepsakes, the vibrant blend of pale and bright pink perfectly accenting her planned makeup and glittery gown. Ags will probably hate me for it, but I chose a Tequila Sunrise for Sammie instead of making his boutonniere match her corsage. And I manage to find three tiny, and absolutely perfect, Lady X roses for myself.