The Beginning of After

Chapter Thirty-one



Early Action: Get your admission decision

The words on the Yale website sounded so ho-hum about it, without an exclamation point or even a period to punctuate what it meant to those of us who’d been waiting to see them appear. Everyone else who’d applied early somewhere was counting the days, marking them as little sticks on their notebooks or with big Xs in their locker calendars. I refused to keep track but still found myself checking the Yale admissions page online every day.

All I had to do was follow that link, and log in, and there would be an answer on the other side. It felt so strange to have that guarantee.

I got up, walked around the room, sat down again. Checked the weather.

Arrrrgh, just do it!

So I did, wondering if they’d be standing behind me, watching. Mom and Dad, maybe Toby, too. No, I’d make them stand outside with the door closed.

“Ha!” I said out loud to nobody.

I’d gotten in.

I thought of how my dad’s face might have looked at the news. He was good at the knowing smile; I think he would have done that. And he got misty so easily, never afraid to leave the tears there and not wipe them away.

What about Mom? She’d be surprised, first. Genuinely surprised, and that would piss me off a little. And then she’d look relieved and laugh, and I’d just laugh back to forget the pissed-off part.

They’re with you right now, I told myself. They’re here.

When Nana came to find me ten minutes later, I was still crying.


“I remember when your dad got his letter,” said Nana over our celebration half-plain, half-veggie pizza at Vinny’s. “He wasn’t sure he wanted to go, but he heard the girls were particularly pretty there.” She paused, the corners of her eyes glistening. “He would be so proud, you know.”

I nodded and looked down, then decided, to hell with it. No time like the present.

“Nana, I’m not sure I should go.”

She put down her slice of pizza, taking a moment to arrange it neatly in the center of the plate, and frowned at me. “Why wouldn’t you go?”

“I mean, maybe I’m not ready to live away from home. Instead I could go to Columbia or NYU, which are both great schools, if I got in. And I could stay here.” Then I added, because I thought maybe it would help, “With you.”

How could I tell her the things that had been swimming in my head all afternoon? The things I didn’t even want to think about before, because I didn’t have to, but now I had to. It would have been easier to get rejected from Yale so I could keep on not thinking about them.

What about the animals? Not just Selina and Elliot and Masher, but the patients at Ashland and the future Echos who might need me to be on the other end of a phone call. Echo was the cat I’d picked up from the shelter and brought to Ashland that day after Thanksgiving. Eve already had a possible home for her.

But there was another thing. It had come up during a session with Suzie the previous week.

“Are you excited to hear about Yale?” asked Suzie, looking at her notes.

“I guess so,” I’d answered, looking out the window. It felt like small talk.

“You’re not sure?”

“No, I’m sure.” I hated these idiotic conversations we had sometimes.

“Laurel,” said Suzie, pausing carefully, “do you feel you’re ready for your future?”

I’d just looked at her.

“Because that’s normal. To feel anxious about moving on, continuing with your life, when people you love are gone.”

All I’d said was, “Okay, I get that.” I found that Suzie got quiet and satisfied after I said this. Our sessions had less talking these days, and we were always ending early.

Finally, I thought of an answer for Nana.

“I’m just worried about you. Won’t you be lonely if I go away?”

Nana had picked up her pizza slice, but now she put it down once more. “I will miss you, yes,” she said. “But honestly, Laurel, if you’re in New Haven, it means I can spend the fall and winter in Hilton Head. I won’t have to sell the condo.”

“So you want to get rid of me?” I asked, trying to make it sound jokey.

“No. I want you to go get the terrific education your parents always dreamed of for you.”

She choked up, which made me choke up, and we both took bites of pizza in silence.


At home, I picked up the phone to call Meg to tell her the news, then stopped myself. It had been three weeks since that morning, the Morning of Save-a-Cat-or-Meet-Meg-at-the-Mall, and when we were together, we were like actors in a play. At school, in the hallways or in the classes where we still sat next to each other out of habit, we played the scripted roles of best friends. Lending each other pens, waiting for each other in doorways and by lockers. Making small talk about how hard the math test was and how awful our hair looked.

But outside of school, that phone line was still dead. Meg no longer offered me rides anywhere. She didn’t stop by to hang out, or invite me to her house. She didn’t call or text me late at night to tell me about Gavin or Andie or especially her parents.

I missed her like crazy, but I was also stubborn. I knew I had been right. Echo had been more important. Echo, with the wide black stripes like she’d been painted with a thick sponge brush, who liked to lick your forearm while you petted her. Living things died forever. Friendships could be resurrected.

So I put away my cell phone and figured I’d tell her in the morning, at school. But I still felt really lonely. Maybe I could tell Joe. Yes, that would work. Joe would be happy for me.

I signed on to my email, and when I saw my in-box, my heart leapt.

A message from David.


laurel





just for the hell of it i’ve started introducing myself as leon. it seems totally hilarious to me. do i look like a leon? no way. but i say, “hi, i’m leon” and people just nod and say, “nice to meet you, leon!” so i can just be leon for a while. leon needs some background. i was thinking he could be the son of circus people, like world-famous elephant trainers. that’s something you could say and nobody would be able to check up on it, because who ever hears of circus elephant trainers? i mean, the circus is totally cliché but people eat that stuff up. that could get me freebies and favors. and my life right now is all about freebies and favors, as you well know.





david





Before I’d kissed David, I would have thought that was him, flip and funny trimmed with badass on the edges. But when I read this, I thought about the softness of his lips and the way I could feel his heart beating fast that day in the woods, and I knew he was hurting. Maybe all those years of attitude, from the time he gave me the Tinker Bell bubble bath until the night of the accident, were just one long David hurting.

No mention of Thanksgiving, but there didn’t have to be. My email had been a peace treaty, and with this, it seemed like he’d signed it.

Come home, I thought. Just come home.

I started a reply to him.


Hey David, I mean Leon,





The circus works. Tell them you were being groomed to follow in their footsteps, or hoofsteps in this case, but wanted to be a tightrope walker and that created this whole scandal so that’s why you left and can’t go back.





I got into Yale. I’m not sure if I want to go.





And also, my best friend hates me right now. I have no idea how to fix it.





Maybe someone who grew up around elephants might have some answers?





Laurel