I stare at the phone in my hands, blood pulsing.
Gretchen called me yesterday, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I didn’t text her back, or check Messenger, or listen to her voicemail. Yesterday was, in fact, one of three days since the beginning of our friendship that we haven’t spoken. Everything inside me hurts and I don’t know how to deal with it.I don’t know how to bear my own pain and everyone else’s, too.
What I do know: A week was far too long to keep this secret.
Sitting on the swing hanging over our back porch, I listen to her voicemail first, to see if it will bring me some courage and comfort. “Hey, Bee,” she says, happy as a bird in the spring, “I hope everything’s all right. Miss you bunches! You should call me back tonight sometime. I think you’re crap.”
I swallow hard. Hi Gretchen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about everything going on, please forgive me for being such a terrible friend, and for betraying your trust. Please know that I love you and can’t live without you.
That’s what I mean to tell her. But when Gretchen answers the phone a few moments later, my mouth opens and I say, “Hey, sorry I couldn’t call you back yesterday.”
“Where’ve you been?” she asks, not unkindly. “I missed you!”
“Just…super busy at the shop.” I bite my lip in disappointment. (Seriously, Bee?)
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
Gretchen sighs. “I can’t wait to see the shop, someday,” she says wistfully. “Whatcha doin’?”
“I’m relaxing outside. It’s so hot here.” I glance up, kicking our porch swing back and forth to catch the breeze. It’s nine o’clock on Saturday, and I’m still in my pajamas.
“Sounds nice, actually.” She clears her throat. “So…how’s Levi?”
“He’s really good,” I say. I feel awkward and overheated and ridiculous. This is your best friend—get a grip, Bee.
“Mmhmm. Has he kissed you yet?”
“Gretchen.”
“It’s a legitimate question, Bee.”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“Shouldn’t be that hard—”
“Gretchen.”
“What?”
“I’m working on it.”
Gretchen says something, but it’s drowned out by the sound of Levi asking, “Working on what?”
I jump, twisting to look at him where he stands behind the swing. “Nothing,” I say, too quickly, almost like a warning.
“Is that Gretchen?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Tell her I said hello,” he says, but his eyes ask if I’ve told her about Papa.
I ignore this and relay his message. Gretchen grunts loudly. “Tell him to kiss you soon, or else.”
I make a pitiful noise. “No, absolutely not.”
Levi snatches the phone from me before I even realize he’s moved. He sits by my legs on the edge of the patio and says, “Hello, Gretchen. What do you want to tell me that she doesn’t want to say out loud?”
I tip my head over the back of the swing, making a face at the sky. I’m contemplating all sorts of things—such as what I’m going to eat for breakfast and when I can get to the gym and where my lost t-shirt went and oh, all right, I’m thinking about kissing him, too—when I hear him say, “I was already planning on it. Don’t panic.”
I jerk forward, staring at the top of his head, which now rests on my knee.
“Are you threatening me?” he asks Gretchen, sounding very serious.
She says something loudly and passionately on the other line. “Just give it back to me,” I groan, thoroughly embarrassed.
He holds up a hand. “Excuse me, what?” He laughs. “All right, all right, don’t worry about it, okay? I get it, you care so much and all that, etcetera, etcetera.”
Despite myself, I laugh.
“Here you go,” he adds (after Gretchen has the last word) and passes the phone to me.
Gretchen immediately says, “I’m not telling you what we talked about, so don’t ask. Just go about your day like nothing happened.”
“I can’t now. You’ve ruined everything.”
“Well, that’s okay because I’ve made you laugh.”
I look down, running my hand through Levi’s hair, unable to stop myself. “That’s all that matters, huh?”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I have to go to work now, okay? But you will call me later?”
“Okay,” I say, heavily, and hope she doesn’t notice.
She doesn’t, because there are three thousand miles between us. “I think you’re crap.”
“I think you’re crap,” I reply, and hang up.
Levi turns his head so his cheek rests against my knee. He reaches up, wrapping his hand around mine, touching my pulse where it flutters under my skin.
“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly. He lets go of my hand, our fingertips just grazing each other, a new kind of torture. He must feel it, too, and drops his hand to his side.
“I came to see your dad.”
“Thanks,” I choke out, rubbing my eyes. I won’t cry. I won’t. “Want to do something for lunch?”
He nods his head. “I don’t have any plans. Erm, actually, there’s an interview later. But that’s it.”
Astrid calls my name, rushing out onto the patio, mouth open to say something else. Then her eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “You two.”
I give her a very pointed expression. “What’s up?”
“Don’t make those eyes at me,” she says.
“What are you talking about?”
“The ‘I’m so in love, please leave us alone’ eyes.”
“I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“It is. You created it. When you started going out with Dufus over here.”
Levi raises his hand. “I am Dufus.”
Astrid cracks a smile at that. “It’s all right, I mean, because he’s pretty cool and all.” She shrugs, as if she’s the Queen of Benevolence to give us her blessing.
“Gee, thanks. What did you need, Astrid?”
“For you to come to do the dishes.” She starts to leave. “Oh,” she adds, turning back to us, “and put a bra on. Much appreciated.”
I look down. I’m wearing a baggy t-shirt, one of my dad’s old work shirts, and Astrid is right. Thinking of where my clean bra hangs on my doorknob, I press my palm against my face, mortally embarrassed. Levi acts like he hasn’t heard (probably to spare me pain) and stands, grabbing my hand to help me up. He doesn’t look at my face, just runs his hand over my arm, up, up, past my elbow, touching all my skin. His palm stops on my shoulder, his thumb resting on the soft spot by my collarbone. It brushes back and forth twice, his gaze locked there, mesmerized by something I don’t understand, something that both terrifies and thrills me. I study his face as he does this, so thankful and scared.
(Thing You Should Know About Me #83: If you didn’t already know, I love his face, with his adoring eyes and angled features and kind mouth.)
Finally, Levi shakes himself out of whatever trance he’s in. “See you in a minute?”
I nod, letting him walk into the house. I see him sit down beside Millicent on the ground, his hair flopping into his face, and I take a deep breath in. Steady, Bee.