After school, we walk together to a coffee shop, where we get lattes and talk. We’ve had plenty of deep conversations, but it’s like a layer of thick scar tissue has been peeled off or something—?we never knew for sure before if we were actually friends or just two people who were stuck spending time together.
Now we know.
David has gotten more information about Ethan. He won’t be able to talk to him for at least a week—?the school doesn’t let students call home until they’ve settled in—?and he can’t visit for an entire month.
“They think it’ll help him adjust,” he says. “Seems just mean to me.”
“We’ll plan a visit for the earliest possible date.”
“You’ll really go with me?”
“Whether you want me to or not.”
“I’m okay with it,” he says, and flashes a brief smile that’s warmer than his words. “The weird thing is that I couldn’t be doing this if he were home, you know? Just hanging out with you here. I’d have to be rushing off to make sure I was home before he was. It’s not fair that I get to be sitting here talking to you and he’s stuck in some awful place all by himself.”
“We’ll visit him as soon as we can. And if he hates it there, we’ll get him out. Somehow.”
“I admire your optimism,” he says dryly.
“Yeah, well, most of the time, it’s all I’ve got.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” he says, shifting in his seat. “Distract me—?if I keep thinking about this when I can’t do anything about it, I’ll drive myself crazy.”
“Okay.” I tell him about Ivy and Diana—?how Ivy is in love with her, but she doesn’t seem to feel the same way.
“That sucks,” he says. “It’s like the eternal triangle, isn’t it? Ethan likes her, she likes Diana . . . Who does Diana like?”
“No idea. Probably no one. She’s not the most social creature I’ve ever met.”
“But boys?”
“I think so. I mean, odds are good, right? So now all I have to do is find a lesbian with autism who lives nearby and is roughly Ivy’s age and who’s available.”
“Tinder?”
“Swipe right, Ivy, swipe right—?Yeah, no.” I flick at the plastic top to my cup. “I’ll keep trying to help her make friends, but if nothing works out . . . There are a lot of good colleges nearby, right? I’ll just stay close enough to be able to drop by a lot and make sure she leaves the house now and then.”
“Yeah, I was going to commute to somewhere local so I could keep living with Ethan. I still will if he comes home.”
“Don’t you feel like we’re living in a different world from everyone else at school? All anyone else ever thinks about is getting into the best college they can afford.” I wind my fingers around my cup, seeking out the warmth. “And if I weren’t worried about Ivy, I’d totally be like that—?I mean, I work hard at school. I want to get a huge scholarship and go somewhere amazing just as much as everyone else. But if I only thought about that . . . if I just stopped caring about what’s going to happen to Ivy . . . I’d end up hating myself.”
David’s mouth opens like he sort of wants to say something, but then he doesn’t. I glance up, and he’s just sitting there looking at me. His eyes are such a cool color—?a mixture of brown and gray with tiny flecks of yellow ringing the pupils. How could I ever have thought they were colorless and uninteresting?
I squirm under his steady gaze. “You’d tell me if I had something on my face, right?”
“You have, like, this beautiful face on your face.”
I feel my cheeks turn hot. I give a shaky laugh. “Don’t turn into someone who gives compliments. I won’t know you anymore.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, flushing. Which is kind of adorable. “That one just slipped out. It won’t happen again.”
I study him for a moment, and feel my heart suddenly speed up. It feels like maybe there’s more that needs to be said. I take a deep breath and look down at the table. “You know, when I said I’d be your friend whether you wanted me to or not, I wasn’t being entirely honest.”
His chin jerks up. “What do you mean?”
“You’re kind of an arrogant asshole, and it wasn’t that long ago that I couldn’t even stand being in the same room as you, but you’re the only person I know who cares as much about his brother as I do about my sister.” There’s a drop of coffee on the table. I touch it lightly with the tip of my finger, and it turns into a tiny flat puddle. “And I don’t know whether that’s a good reason to start to like someone, but apparently it was enough for me, because I did. So . . .” I have to swallow to be able to get the words past my swelling throat. Even so, they’re barely more than a whisper. “I was kind of hoping we could be more than friends.”
There’s silence. A dull, agonizing thud of a silence.
“Crap,” I say. “That was a mistake, wasn’t it? Saying that out loud?” I shove my coffee cup away and get to my feet. “Sorry. I’m going to pretend I didn’t say that, and if you’re a decent human being, you will too. Let’s go.”
“Hold on,” David says, jumping up and grabbing my arm. I twist away, still too embarrassed to even look at him, but he doesn’t let go. “Don’t say something like that and then run! I mean, you don’t say to someone, ‘You just won the lottery,’ and then get mad because they need a second to process the news.”
“Is it like that? Like winning the lottery?” My voice is still not much more than a whisper. I don’t seem to have the breath for talking normally, what with my heart knocking away inside my chest the way it is.
“Kind of,” he says.
There’s a pause. We’re both frozen in place. “Say something nice, okay?” I plead. “I need you to be nice right now.”
“I just said you were beautiful, like, two minutes ago.”