“I just can’t understand why she thought it was the only way out,” I say.
“I never understand why people think dying is a way out at all. I mean, you’re dead. There’s nothing else. You’re just dead. Why would anyone think that’s better than . . . something else? Anything else? I don’t understand how they’re afraid, or whatever, of anything more than they’re afraid of dying. Or maybe they’re not afraid of dying, and I really don’t understand that.”
“‘Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, it seems to me most strange that men should fear; seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.’”
Jordyn stares at me.
“Julius Caesar,” I say. “I don’t know. Maybe my mom felt like a coward, dying every time my dad . . . And maybe that time— Maybe that was her valiant necessary end.”
Jordyn leans over and kisses me hard. “But it’s not your necessary end. You have options, Mr. Shakespeare-quoting-smarty-pants.”
I crack a small smile.
“Maybe your mom didn’t feel like she did, but you do.”
Maybe I do have options. At least, more than this. For the first time since Mom died, I actually feel . . . hope. And it’s scary as shit.
? ? ?
I’m in the middle of a dream that has something to do with playing a football game inside the school, like in the hallways, and Coach is yelling at me, and for some reason I can’t remember how to run. And then Marcus hands me the ball and I kiss it, but now it’s Jordyn.
It’s only then that I realize the kissing is actually happening. Jordyn has crawled into my bed and she’s kissing me. Then she curls up into the crook of my arm. I run my fingers through her hair. The small red streak of hair is peeking out from underneath and I curl it around my finger. I love the way she feels. I love the way she smells. I love the way she looks at me.
“I love you,” I say. I don’t even register I’ve said it until she smiles wider than I ever thought her capable of. I want to take it back, but then I realize, no, I don’t. I’ve never said those words out loud to anyone that I can remember. Not even Mom—well, except when I was really little—for some reason we just didn’t say it. I’ve only ever spoken those words to Captain. It’s terrifying. And exciting. And terrifying. I’m holding my breath.
“I love you too.” She brushes her lips to mine and then rolls us so I’m on top of her and she reaches for a condom.
My heart has exploded inside my chest. I’m probably dying right this very second. I can feel the warmth radiating from the center of my rib cage. But I can’t stop smiling. Who knew those four little words from her lips could actually kill me? I didn’t know death could feel this good. I didn’t know I could die from happiness.
? ? ?
“Tyler’s going to Stanford,” Jordyn announces over coffee and blueberry pancakes.
I drop my fork into my syrupy plate.
“That’s great. Congratulations. You were always a smart kid, I just didn’t realize you were Stanford smart,” Kelly says as she raises a steaming cup to her lips.
My ears are as hot as the coffee in my cup.
“He’s in all AP classes. What’s your GPA again?” Jordyn asks.
“Um. Around four point three, I think.” I lick the maple syrup off the end of my fork and dig back into the pancakes.
“Not bad. What’d you get on the SAT?” Henry asks. He suddenly seems very interested in this topic of conversation.
I haven’t shared that score with anyone except Mom and Coach. Dr. Dave knows—he’s seen my file. But we’ve never talked about it directly. It feels so braggy.
Jordyn nudges me under the table.
“Twenty-three forty,” I say into my plate.
“Shut up!” Jordyn slaps my arm. “What about the ACT?”
“Thirty-four.”
Henry and Kelly are staring at me like they’ve invited some strange creature to breakfast and they’re only just figuring out it’s not human.
“I knew you were smart, but . . .” Jordyn says with a look on her face not unlike her parents’.
“Stanford is lucky to have you, son.” Henry raises his cup to me and then puts it to his lips. The disgusting slurping sound sort of ruins the effect, but I expect nothing less from Henry.
“And Jordyn’s only just getting her applications ready,” Kelly says. “I would blame Aslan for the procrastination gene, but I think we all know she gets it from me. Maybe you can help her out, Tyler.”
Jordyn bats her eyelashes, making me love her even more.