The Love Story (The Things We Can't Change Book 4) (14 page)

Hey, are you still on the dance committee? If so, are there two spots available? I’m looking to try something new this year.

Message sent, I look up at Jenny again. She looks slightly ill.

“Look,” I say gently. “You have to apologize to him eventually, right? Or you’ll never move past what happened. Even if he doesn’t accept it, even if he throws it back in your face. Sometimes the act of doing is all that matters.”

Jenny’s eyes are glistening with tears again as she looks up at me. “I know that,” she whispers. “I really do. I just liked him so much, Evie. I really,
really
did. And it would be torture to see him like that. I’m already at my limit having some classes with him.”

“But if you never have an opportunity to talk to him, you’ll never take the second chance that he might give you,” I point out. “Koby is… really cool, Jenny. He might surprise you.” I lean forward, trying to convince her. “One of the biggest lessons I learned over the summer is that just because it doesn’t feel good doesn’t mean it isn’t good for you.”

My cell phone buzzes as Jenny is nodding slowly and I flick my messages open. It’s from Koby.

We just lost a couple people to sports so we could really use the help. We meet Mondays and in two weeks, Wednesdays too. Don’t plan anything for after school on homecoming week. I’ll show you the room on Monday after Speech.

I hold up my phone and wave it at Jenny with a grin. “We’re in!”

“Yippee,” Jenny mutters, and attacks the candy with renewed vigor.

Ezekiel

97

Usually, the transition from a summer spent lazing around and working here and there to getting back into the routine of school and work is exhausting, but this year that’s not the case. I’m honed from a summer working outside in the heat and it’s almost a blessing to sit in an air conditioned classroom all day. Not to mention, drawing and painting all day isn’t exactly torture.

I head to the club after I leave Evie’s house. I have a late shift but Alex might let me clock in early if the dining room is busy enough. My number one goal in life right now is getting a car. I’m sick to death of walking everywhere and then I’ll have another option of a place to stay the next time my dad kicks me out. Ha.

Thanks to a busy summer and all the extra hours I picked up when I was avoiding my grief for Cindy, I already have enough for an almost-not-beater. It’s amazing how much money I seem to have now that it doesn’t go to Cindy’s dance tuition. I never minded, but
damn
. It will be nice to have a car.

I’ll stick it out until the weather starts getting too cold to walk and then see where I am. Hopefully able to buy something that will last me a few years without any trouble. I turn eighteen in January and I have no doubt in my mind that I’ll find myself out on my own by then. My money will probably have to go to rent, not fixing up my car.

“Thanks, Dad,” I mutter as I push into the club.

I catch Alex’s eye across the bustling dining room and he mouths,
Clock in. Now
. I salute and head quickly to the employee locker room to change. I open my locker and a piece of paper flutters out. I pick it up and read it just as someone says “Hey,” right next to me.

I jump and whirl around, stuffing the note into my backpack as I turn. Koby is standing behind me, eyebrows raised.

“Jeez. Jumpy much?” he asks. He’s already dressed for work.

“Sneak up on people much?” I ask snidely. I quickly pull off my T-shirt and jeans and switch them for a white button down and black dress pants.

“Sorry,” Koby says, smiling a little as he leans against the lockers. “What’s got you all pissy?”

“I’m not pissy,” I grumble, though all of the sudden, I realize that I am. I keep picturing Evie’s wounded face, see her crying in my mind’s eye and I want to kick myself. This
doesn’t
feel good, but I know it’s right. So what if it also enables me to keep my distance?

I want to text her and ask if she’s okay but I don’t. Somehow, I feel a little distance is best right now for Evie’s sake.

“Oh yes, you are,” Koby says, still laughing.

I reflect that this is the problem with having friends since childhood: despite always trying to keep your distance, they still know you far too well. I tuck in my shirt and fasten my belt before finally admitting, “Evie and I sort of talked today and we’re on a… break.”

Koby’s eyes widen, bright white against his dark skin. “You and Evie
broke up
?” he yelps.

“We didn’t break up,” I insist, slamming my locker shut. “We’re
on
a break.”

Koby slaps an arm on my shoulder as we head out of the locker room. “Hate to
break
it to you, man, but that’s basically the same thing. Breaks are always code for, ‘we’re about to break up for real but I just haven’t gathered the balls to say it yet.’ Trust me.”

I throw his arm off me as we enter the kitchens to grab our aprons. “I’m not going to dump her,” I insist. My heart skips a beat at the idea. I scold it immediately.
Someday, she’ll leave you for real, and just like always, you’ll have to learn to keep on beating,
I tell it sourly.

“It turns out there are just still some… unresolved issues for her to deal with.”

Koby is staring at me, his dark eyes seeing a little more than I’m comfortable with. It occurs to me in just that moment how alike he and Evie are. They’re both calm and quiet, smart about a lot of things, especially people. And they both manage to see right through me.

“Tony issues?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Tony issues.” My tone makes it clear that I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

Like Evie, Koby seems to get that. He merely passes me a tray and asks if I want to stay at his house tonight and play
Call of Duty
. I accept.

Late that night we’re thick into the battle zone when Koby gets a text message. He pauses the game, looks at the message and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then lower in confusion. Finally, he gives a shrug and taps out a reply.

“Who was that?” I ask, eyes glued to the screen once more as we resume playing.

“It was Evie.”

“
What
?” I jerk and look over at him. I’m killed instantly and blood spatters the screen.

“Aw, come on, man!” Koby cries indignantly. “That was our highest score ever!”

“I don’t care about the stupid game! Why did Evie text you?”

“Well, she asked if I would leave my window unlocked for her tonight so she could sneak into my bedroom and-” Koby breaks off, laughing hysterically as I advance on him. He raises his arms over his head to ward off my attack. “Chill, man,
chill.
She just asked if I was still on the dance committee and if I could get her a spot. She wants to join. That’s all.”

I abandon my attack on him and sit down heavily on the couch. “Evie asked to join… the dance committee?” I repeat woodenly.

“Yep.” Totally unconcerned and apparently jaded by the loss of our high score, Koby has turned off the Xbox and is channel surfing.

“But why?” I ask, mystified. “I’ve never heard her say she wanted to go to Homecoming.”

“Well, she’ll be there. Unless she flakes out, but she doesn’t strike me as a quitter. Hey,” he says brightly. “Maybe I’ll ask her to the dance.”

“Shut the hell up,” I growl, hitting him with a pillow.

Koby cackles and digs himself deeper into the couch and pillows to watch television. I settle back more quietly, still confused. Two hours later Koby is snoring and I carefully and quietly pull out the piece of paper that was in my locker.

IF YOU DON’T TELL EVIE SOON, I WILL.

I’ve realized that the note being in my locker means something—the writer is either a member or a part of the staff. How else would they find out where my locker is? The most obvious answer is Tony’s old friends. But I keep coming back to the same question: if it’s them, how do they
know
? Only four of us were there that night. Five, including Dr. Parker and he sure isn’t the one talking.

I read it again and my stomach gets all fluttery on me. Even though I already miss Evie like crazy, even though I’m dying to call her and hear her voice and miss the smell of her hair and the feel of her soft skin, I know I’ve done the right thing.

Evangeline

98

Jenny stays with me all weekend. She finds out Clarissa is gone and says firmly that she isn’t leaving me alone for a second. At first I protest but then I stop. It feels wonderful to not be alone anymore and there’s been a void in my heart that Zeke alone hasn’t been able to fill.

We go to the mall on Saturday and Jenny serves as my fashion coordinator. I even drag her into Hot Topic but the quirky female cashier who helped me last time I was shopping for my new wardrobe (since I was lost during the process) isn’t working today. Then I trail Jenny to her dance classes that night and do my homework as I wait for her. It’s back to my house after that, for pizza and more junk food, along with a steady stream of sappy chick flicks.

In the dark of night, secrets are spilled. A long, ugly story that takes me a long time to get out. Jenny holds me as I cry but I feel better afterward. And I know it’s good for me.

Jenny is supposed to go to lunch with her parents on Sunday and drags me along with her, despite my protests. Jenny’s mom is nowhere near as rigid as Clarissa, but she has always been concerned with appearance and following the proper path of the family. Jenny is expected to get excellent grades, use dance only as a tool for resumes and getting into college, and apply to a Top Ten school and emerge with some kind of doctorate in the correct amount of time. Several years later, she’ll be expected to drop from her job, get married and have some kids, and that is the Plan—no room for deviation.

I’d always suspected that Jenny’s parents, friends of the Stulls—if only casually—had been a driving force between her distance from me. Undoubtedly, they hadn’t approved of the rumors running around and like most of the people at the club, thought I was to blame since I wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed.

My suspicions for this are more or less proved by the slightly cold behavior of Mr. and Mrs. Hunt during lunch, though thankfully they don’t make us go out to the club. Instead, I just endure an uncomfortable volley of questions about my summer and future plans where my uncertain answers make the frowns in between their brows grow deeper and deeper. But Jenny is there and she doesn’t abandon me, only smiles encouragingly and changes the subject whenever she can, and then we flee back to my house when the meal is done.

But I also realize as I stumble on my answer to all their questions that I haven’t held up my end of the deal Zeke and I made on the beach in Florida. I wanted to work on my future, to do great things as my dad did and I’ve made absolutely no progress. Zeke is right. I need to focus on myself and at least my immediate future.

I ask Jenny for help and we spend that afternoon on college apps. Already deep in the process of her own, Jenny is able to help me get started. I make a list of my top five schools and rebelliously, vengefully, write
Stanford
at the top of the list in bold, dark ink. I don’t know if I’d go, if I even want that now, but damned if I’m not going to apply.

I add OSU, Kent State, and Notre Dame and then slowly write in Florida State. They have a good English program, should I still want to pursue that, and somehow it feels appropriate.

Exhausted after a day of application filling, Jenny and I fall into bed, discussing exactly how awful the next day will be at school.

It’s back to reality on Monday, but it all feels so much easier to handle with Jenny at my side. We get ready together in the bathroom, gossiping and listening to pop music. It’s just like all the times she would stay over or vice versa when we were too young to be home alone and our parents were away on trips.

We bicker for a bit about who’s going to drive and finally Jenny allows me the honors. We stop for coffee and spill from the car in the school parking lot, laughing.

My laughter dies away as I look up at the school building and see Zeke standing by the entrance. I swallow and look over at Jenny.

“See you in class?” I ask.

She looks toward Zeke and then nods. “Sure. My locker is on the other side of the building anyway.”

“Don’t forget, homecoming meeting today!” I call after her.

She turns and walks backward, arms outstretched. “How could I forget when I’m looking forward to it so much?” she calls back sarcastically.

I laugh, wave, and climb the steps until I’m standing in front of Zeke.

“Hey,” I say, pushing my bangs out of my eyes as the brisk wind wreaks havoc on them. Only just this weekend has the weather cooled a little and begun to smell like fall.