“About the booze.”
“Oh. No. This is . . .” I pause—and the silence just hangs there. The thing about Skype is that you can actually watch an awkward silence play out in real time. There’s Abby’s face, eyebrows knit, pressing her lips together slightly. And in a tiny rectangle in the corner: me, eyes cast downward. Probably because I’m watching myself and not the webcam. I’m sure there’s some kind of metaphor buried in that.
“Molly?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re in a daze.”
I blink. “I am? I am. I’m sorry.” I rub the bridge of my nose.
“Is it Cassie?”
“What?”
“Is she still pissed about orgasm-gate?” Abby stretches and leans back, and I catch a glimpse of her bedroom walls—pale pink, plastered with collages of Taylor Swift, The Fault in Our Stars, and the rest of her favorites. It’s just like her room in Takoma Park, but bigger—Abby’s world, expanded. “Because that’s dumb. Want me to yell at her for you?”
I laugh weakly. “Thanks.”
“Seriously, have you guys talked about this?”
“No.” I scoot back, leaning against the wall.
“You need to talk about it.”
“I know, but the wedding’s in ten days, and, just, you know. I don’t want everything to be weird.”
“You don’t want it to be weird? I think that ship has sailed.” She raises her eyebrows. “Seriously, just talk to her. You’ll feel better.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
We’re both quiet. I watch her draw a nervous breath.
“Okay, listen,” she says finally. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but, uh.” She looks me in the eye. “Can we talk about this guy Reid?”
The breath whooshes out of me.
“What about him?”
“Well, Olivia called me.”
I feel this wave of panic. I touch my cheeks, and they’re burning. “What?”
“So.” She lifts her shoulders. “Who is he? What’s going on with you guys?”
“She said something was going on?”
“I’m just speculating.”
“With her and Reid?”
“Molly.” Abby rubs her eyelids. “No. Okay. That is not what Olivia said.”
My heart pounds. “What did she say?”
“Let’s start with this. Do you like this guy?” She twists her mouth sideways. It’s the Abby version of the Molly Face. It’s the patented Abby Suso don’t bullshit me face.
“I feel like we’ve been talking a lot about me. How are you? How’s Nick?”
“Oh, we’re great. Our relationship is great. You know what helped a lot with that?” She stares me down. “Admitting I liked him.”
She knows, and I know she knows, and she knows I know she knows, and onward to infinity. But I can’t make myself say it. Twenty-seven crushes, and the first time it actually counts, I can’t seem to make the words come. Honestly, there must be something wrong with my wiring. Because girls are supposed to tell each other everything. It’s the fundamental law of friendship.
I like Reid. I have a crush on Reid. I want to make out with Reid. I’m half in love with Reid. More than half. Way past half.
“See, you tricked me,” Abby says, wagging a finger. “I thought you liked Hipster Will.”
“I don’t.”
“But you hung out with him.”
“Olivia told you that?”
She nods. “But you’re not interested in Will.”
I bite my lip. “No.” Nor is he interested in me.
“Then why’d you hang out with him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You totally know.” She’s smiling faintly. “Come on. I think you need to say this. Like, own it. It’s okay.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I’m . . .”
There’s this pause.
She looks at me. “Wow. Like, you can’t. You actually can’t admit it.”
I cover my face.
“This is so sad and adorable.”
“I’m twelve years old. I know.”
“You seriously are.” She laughs. “Which is okay! But you’re gonna have to turn thirteen.”
I shrug.
“All right. I’m going to draw this out of you. First question. If you’re not into Will, why did you hang out with him?”
“Okay, I’m not—”
“Answer the question.”
I take a deep breath. “Because Reid was hanging out with Olivia.”
“Yeah, you might have misinterpreted that.” She grins. “But let’s keep going. So, Reid was hanging out with Olivia, and then you called Will . . .”
“No, I texted him.”
“Whatever. You got in touch with Will because you wanted . . .” She trails off.
“I wanted to make Reid jealous.”
“Because you like him.”
“I like him.”
“There you go.”
“Yeah.” And I’m blushing so hard, and it’s stupid, because I’m not in middle school. I’m not twelve. I’m not this much of a mess.
“You like him!” Abby says.
“But it’s not anything. We haven’t even kissed.”
“Yet.” She’s beaming.
“Stop being smug.”
“You don’t even know smug. Wait till you kiss him. Come find me then.”
“I’m not going to find you.”
She bursts out laughing. “Yeah, okay. Do you know what you didn’t just say?”
My whole body is blushing. Because I know she knows, and probably everyone in the entire world knows.
I didn’t say I wouldn’t kiss him.
Maybe I actually will.
HI. I KNOW I PROBABLY shouldn’t be texting you this late But I need to tell you some stuff, and I don’t want to talk myself out of it. So, yeah.
First of all, I’m really sorry.
Reid, I am so sorry. I was an asshole to you. You probably don’t want to talk to me right now.
I totally get it.
It’s not fair of me to be a jerk about you hanging out with Olivia Especially when I was hanging out with Will That sucked. And I’m sorry.
But here’s the thing
Actually, here’s a lot of things
There are some things we’ve never talked about that we probably should talk about.
Like how I’m not interested in Will. And he’s not interested in me.
And how everything’s just a little off-kilter right now, like with Cassie and Mina.
Which has nothing to do with Olivia!
And is obviously not a good reason to keep you from making out with her.
Except
Please don’t make out with Olivia.
Because that’s the other thing.
I don’t think you should make out with Olivia.
Because
I can’t believe I’m about to say this
THREE DOTS.
HE’S TYPING SOMETHING.
My hands are shaking so hard, I can barely hold my phone.
My stomach aches, and the area below my stomach aches, and the area below that aches. There is a good deal of lustful aching occurring.
Hey. I’m here, he writes.
Hey. Hi.
Three dots.
Hi! Okay. So, I guess we should talk?
Yes
But maybe we should do it in person My heart beats extra fast. Yes. Okay. Where are you?
Home. Where are you?
Home!
I can be there in five, he says.