“See. I told you nothing good happens at Mark Ricardi parties.”
Without a word, Rachel slides a hot plate of fries in front of us and steals a full bottle of ketchup from the table behind us before disappearing to tend to the couple in the corner who have taken their cuteness to new obnoxious levels by sharing the same side of the booth.
“What are you glaring at?” Harper asks with a mouth full of fries. She follows my gaze and nods in their direction. “Are you sending your eye daggers to that couple over there?”
“I just don’t understand people who sit on the same side of the booth,” I say, still glaring. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder; her long blond hair (perhaps a little too long. Like 1980s-music-video-star long) cascades down both their backs. He’s looking down at her, smiling sweetly. I freaking hate them.
“Yes, same side of the booth is super annoying,” Harper replies, turning to face me. “Can you really not spend a single second not touching each other that you have to sit side by side and make the rest of us uncomfortable-slash-hate-your-guts?”
“Same with couples who only refer to each other as ‘babe’ or worse, ‘bae,’” I add and roll my eyes. “‘Just chilling with my bae.’ Please do the world a favor and stop talking.”
“What about the oversharers?” Harper says, shoving another fry in her mouth. “Like, I do not need to hear about how hot you are for each other all the time. Keep that inappropriateness in your bedroom or basement or Toyota Corolla where it belongs.”
I nearly spit my coffee back into my cup. Harper smiles back at me, a fry hanging out of her mouth as I continue our rant. “What about the couples that feed each other? Every day at school, I watch Alex literally spoon-feeding Sophie soft serve. And not just a taste. No, no. Like, a bowl of swirl ice cream. What is she, a baby?”
“Or how about the ones that constantly try to finish each other’s sentences? Jesus Christ. Let them speak!”
“Or the couples who wear coordinating Halloween costumes. Or substitute every ‘I’ statement for ‘we.’”
“The worst,” Harper says and shakes her head. “Seriously, kill me if I ever become like that.”
“Don’t worry. I will,” I reply, bringing a fry to my mouth. They’re crunchy and salty and soak up Mad Dog’s washer fluid taste.
“Do I get to strangle you if you become one of those couples too?” Harper asks, dipping a rare soggy fry in her overflowing cup of ranch.
“You won’t have to,” I answer and force a sharp laugh. My eyes cast down into my coffee cup. “I’ll never be happy like that.”
“Of course you will,” Harper replies. “Someday.”
“No,” I answer quietly and shake my head. “I won’t.”
My eyes drift back to the couple just as he brushes a long strand of her hair off of her cheek, gently tucking it behind her ear. His fingers trace along her jaw and my entire body goes cold. My words are true. I’ve destroyed the only person in the world who could make me that happy.
My vision blurs, tears welling in my eyes without warning. I try to push them down but it’s too late. Harper’s face changes. She’s seen them. Harper reaches her hand across the table and takes my cold fingers into her warm palm. She’s never seen me cry.
“Reagan, why did you do it?” Harper asks, confirming she’d watched it all.
“You wouldn’t understand,” I reply, shaking my head and staring hard into my cup of coffee.
“Try me,” Harper says softly. “I’ve always known there’s something special between the two of you. It’s electric when you guys are in the same room. You … I mean, you’re always happy, I guess. But you become more awake or alive or something next to him.”
“What does it matter?” I ask, swallowing the sobs that are clawing up my throat, leaving the delicate flesh jagged and sore. “This time next year, he’ll be at West Point and I’ll be God knows where. It’s too complicated.”
“Look, Reagan, I’m no expert on relationships,” Harper says, squeezing my hand tight in her palm. “But I do know one thing. There’s no such thing as perfect. But there’s always the chance of wonderful.”
The tears fall faster now. Luke wasn’t just my best friend. He saved me. He opened my eyes to a world I didn’t know could exist for a girl like me. Being with him made me realize that I’d been confined to a dark, lonely room. A prison the Black Angels had built for me. When I met Luke, he unlocked a door I didn’t even know was there. He took my hand and guided me to the other side and I saw what my life could be. But now I’m locked back inside that windowless room. And I don’t know if I’ll ever find a way out again.
FIFTEEN