I hesitate. I don’t know why, but I’m not ready to leave just yet. What if I never get to come back? I spot a bench facing one of the brick buildings and go over and sit down, “Let’s stay a little bit longer.”
I hug my knees to my chest and Chris sits down next to me. Fiddling with the stack of bracelets on her arm, she says, “I wish I could come here with you.”
“To college or to UNC?” I’m so caught off guard by the pensive note in her voice that I don’t stop to correct her, to remind her that I won’t be coming here either.
“Either. Both. Don’t get me wrong. I’m psyched about Costa Rica. It’s just . . . I don’t know. Like, what if I’m missing out by not going to college at the same time as everybody else.” She looks at me then, a question in her eyes.
I say, “College will be here waiting for you, Chris. Next year, the year after. Whenever you want it.”
Chris twists around and looks out at the lawn. “Maybe. We’ll see. I can picture you here, Lara Jean. Can’t you?”
I swallow. “I have a plan. William and Mary for a year, then UVA.”
“You mean you and Peter have a plan. That’s why you’re holding back.”
“Okay, Peter and I have a plan. But it’s not the only reason.”
“But it’s the main one.”
I can’t deny it. The thing that’s missing no matter where I go, if it’s William and Mary or if it’s here, is Peter.
“So why not go here for a year, then?” Chris asks me. “What’s the difference if you’re here or William and Mary? An hour? Either way, you’re not at UVA. Why not be here?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer her; she hops up and runs out onto the lawn, and she kicks off her shoes and does a series of cartwheels.
What if I came here and I ended up loving it? What if, after a year, I didn’t want to leave? What then? But wouldn’t it be great if I loved it? Isn’t that the whole point? Why bet on not loving a place? Why not take a chance and bet on happiness?
I lie down and stretch my legs out on the bench and look up at the sky. There is a canopy of tree branches high above my head—one tree sits by the building; the other is planted in the lawn. Their branches reach across the walkway and meet in the middle. What if Peter and I could be like these two trees, far apart but still touching? Because I think maybe I could be happy here. I think maybe I could picture myself here too.
What was it Stormy said? The last day I saw her, the day she gave me her ring? Never say no when you really want to say yes.
*
When Chris pulls up to my house, it’s just after three a.m. and every single light is on. Gulp. I turn to Chris. “Come in with me?” I plead.
“No way. You’re on your own. I’ve gotta go home and deal with my own mom.”
I hug Chris good-bye, get out of the car, and trudge up to the front steps. The door flies open as soon as I’m fumbling around in my bag for my keys. It’s Kitty, in her big sleep T-shirt. “You’re in trouble,” she whispers.
I step inside, and Daddy’s right behind her, still dressed in his work clothes. Trina’s on the couch, giving me a look like, You’re in for it, and I feel sympathy for you, but also, you could’ve at least called. “Where have you been all night!” he shouts. “And why weren’t you answering your phone!”
I shrink backward. “I ran out of battery. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” I briefly consider making a joke about how this is why millenials should wear watches, to lighten the mood, but I don’t think a joke will do the trick this time.
Daddy starts pacing around the living room. “So why didn’t you use Chris’s phone!”
“Chris’s phone died too. . . .”
“We’ve been worried half to death! Kitty says you left with Chris without saying where you were going. . . .” At this, Kitty gives me a look. “I was five seconds from calling the police, Lara Jean! If you hadn’t walked in the door when you did—”
“I’m sorry,” I begin. “I’m really sorry.”
“This is just so irresponsible.” Daddy’s muttering to himself, not even listening. “Lara Jean, you might be eighteen, but—”
From the couch, Trina says, “Dan, please don’t say, ‘but you’re still living under my roof.’ It’s such a cliché.”
Daddy spins around and says to her, “It’s a cliché for a reason! It’s a good line! It’s a very good line.”
“Lara Jean, just tell them where you were,” Kitty says, impatient.
Daddy shoots an accusing look her way. “Kitty, did you know where she went?”
“She made me swear not to tell!”
Before he can reply, I say, “I was in North Carolina with Chris.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “In North Carolina! What in the—what in the world? You crossed state lines without even telling me? With a dead phone battery, to boot!”
I feel sick to my stomach for worrying him. I don’t know why I didn’t call. I could’ve borrowed somebody’s phone. I guess I just got carried away with the night, with being there. I didn’t want to think about home or real life. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m really, really sorry. I should’ve called.”
He shakes his head. “Why were you in North Carolina?”
“I was in North Carolina because . . .” I pause. If I say it now, that’s it. “Because I got into UNC.”
Daddy’s eyes widen. “You did? That’s—that’s wonderful. But what about William and Mary?”
Smiling, I lift my shoulders into a shrug.
Trina lets out a scream and jumps up from the couch, dropping the flannel blanket she had wrapped around her and nearly tripping herself in the process. Daddy grabs me into his arms and sweeps me into a hug, and Trina joins in. “Oh my God, Lara Jean!” she says, slapping me on the back. “You’re gonna be a Tar Heel!”
“I’m happy you’re happy,” Daddy says. He wipes a tear from his eyes. “I’m still furious with you for not calling. But I’m also happy.”
“So you’re really going, then?” Kitty asks from her perch on the stairs.
I look over at her. I smile shakily and say, “Yeah, I’m going.” Peter and I will find a way. We’ll make it work.
I tell them every little detail of the night: going to a show at Cat’s Cradle, eating burritos at Cosmic Cantina, the Old Well. Trina makes popcorn, and it’s nearly dawn before any of us goes to sleep. As Daddy shuffles off to bed, Trina whispers to me, “Your daddy just aged ten years in one night. Look at him walking like he needs a cane. Thanks to you, I’m marrying an old man.” We both start laughing, and neither of us can stop. I think we’re delirious from lack of sleep. Trina rolls onto her back and kicks her legs in the air, she is laughing so hard. Kitty, who has fallen asleep on the couch, wakes up and says, “What’s so funny?” which only makes us laugh harder. On his way up the stairs, Daddy stops and turns around and shakes his head at the two of us.
“You guys are already ganging up on me,” he says.
“Face it, Daddy. You’ve always lived in a matriarchy.” I blow him a kiss.