“This. It was nice to be a kid again for a second.”
He glances off toward the road. “Yeah, it was.”
16
21 Days
My greasy butter-coated fingers slip down the side of my drink and I lose my grip, almost dropping it. “Whoa. That was close.”
The girl in front of me turns around as the ice jostles in my cup. She must have sensed the impending explosion of Coke I just avoided. She flicks her hair behind her shoulders and attempts to cover up that she was worried.
“Sorry,” I say, replacing my cup in the holder beside me.
The girl smiles. “They should put grips on those things.”
“Right?” I agree, holding up my cup.
She turns back around.
Janie laughs and pops a Skittle in her mouth. “You said you wanted butter on your popcorn.”
“Is there any left in the theatre?” I ask, wiping my fingers on a napkin.
She rolls her eyes and giggles, then glances up at the ad for the mall on the screen. “I can’t believe they’re actually playing Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club on the same night, and on a Thursday too.”
“I had no idea you liked eighties movies too.”
She gives me a sly look. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She plays with her straw for a moment and appears to want to say something else. I wait but try not to stare at her and make her uncomfortable. This feels like a date for some reason. Is this how all girls’ night outs feel?
She lowers her chin like she’s embarrassed. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” I mean it too.
Jackson’s my best friend, and if he’s into her and wants me to be, I can figure out how to hang with her. I just have to make sure not to get too close. Keep my distance. The last thing I need are more eyes watching me.
“So you’ve known Jackson for how many years?” she asks, taking a sip of her iced tea.
“Since second grade. I don’t know how it’s lasted this long or why our friendship works, but it just does.”
She giggles a little. “Yeah, he’s kind of infectious isn’t he?”
“Like taffy.”
Her eyes widen in agreement. “Yes, exactly.” She nods, dipping her fingers into her bag of Skittles to get a handful. “I can’t believe you just joined choir this year. We’ve needed you.”
“I couldn’t. I don’t really want to be there now, but my aunt . . . .” I debate whether I should tell her the real truth or be Happy Ellery. “It’s just after my sister died, I didn’t want to sing any more. Every time a note came out of my mouth it tasted like acid.”
“I’m so sorry. Why was it so hard?” she asks but then quickly adds with a surprised expression, “Oh God, I’m sorry. That’s seriously none of my business. Forget I asked.”
I grin at her and decide right then I’ll answer her question and let her in a little. “No, it’s okay. I would sing to her at night before she went to bed. We would play this game where I would tell her she has to go to sleep and she would keep asking for one more song, Sissy. She’d keep repeating the same thing over and over. She was so persistent that I would eventually cave. She would have made a great lawyer.”
I have no idea why I just told her that. She’s so easy to talk to.
She gives me a grim smile, her eyebrows dipping down to form that sympathetic look I remember getting from everyone after the accident. “When my grandma died, I didn’t even want to look at a piano. It’s been a few years but now I can play a song and not cry.” She lets out a sigh and appears to be staring at something on the red crushed-velvet wall. “It gets easier . . . and harder, the more time goes by.”
I don’t know what to say back to that. She has no idea about the guilt I feel. But at least she’s trying. “Thanks.”
She grins and tosses another Skittle in her mouth. “Okay, confession.”
“Oh . . . kay?” I say, slowly.
“I’ve never seen The Breakfast Club,” she says, ducking her head down like I’m going to slap her.
“Seriously?”
She nods. “I’ve seen Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink. Even Better Off Dead.”
“Better Off Dead?”
“Yeah, John Cusack plays Lane Meyer, this nerd skier who’s suicidal, but in a funny way.”
A funny way? Is that possible? “Sounds like an . . . interesting movie.”
“We’re totally going to watch it.”
I’ve avoided making future plans with anyone past Halloween, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see a movie about funny suicide. “Sounds like a plan, Stan.”
She laughs as the lights dim. I’ve made a mistake and made another friend.
My list of goodbyes keeps growing.
17