151 Days (27 page)

He gave me a sad look, but I ignored it. “What happened to you that made you incapable of seeing true love when it is in front of you?” If I had thrown a piece of dog shit at him, I would have gotten the same look back. “I mean, you can’t look at those two and see they are meant to be together?”

He rested his hands on the counter, and I could see the fake and always catty Robbie go away, leaving a deadly serious one who seemed devoid of any emotions. “I am fully capable of seeing love, Jennifer. I just happen to know there are things that it can’t defend against. Things like life, distance, confused lust, and speeding cars can kill love in a split second. Brad and Kyle were sweet together, and I am sure they thought they were going to make it to the end together, but the truth is neither one of them is the person they will become. What if those two people don’t like each other? Are you the same girl you were when you started high school? You think you’re going to be the same after college? Are you telling me the guy you panted over at fourteen is going to do it for you at twenty-two? There’s a reason they’re called
high school sweethearts.
No one expects them to last past their expiration date.”

It was the most cynical thing I had ever heard uttered out loud. The thing was, I don’t think he meant a word of it. I mean, technically he did, but inside, deep inside where you could only see it in his eyes, I could tell he was just saying what he thought was safe. I had never seen such pain in an adult before, and seeing it now in someone who pretended to be as invulnerable as Robbie—it was horrible and overwhelmingly sad.

“What happened to you?” I asked hesitantly.

And just like that, he was gone, replaced with the caricature of him. “What hasn’t, sweetheart? Trust me, they will both find better when they are out of this town.”

“You don’t believe that,” I said, like a bloodhound on the scent of prey. “You’re just saying that because it’s easy. Robbie, what happened to you?”

He slammed his hands on the counter, startling the shit out of me. “Life happened,” he roared. “A messy and completely merciless life happened, and it sucked, and you know what? There is nothing anyone can do about it. Not me, not you, and not your precious Kyle!” He seemed as shocked as I was and took a second to smooth his hair with fingers that trembled. “It seems so easy when you’re young, but trust me, life has a bitch of a learning curve, and there are no second chances. It’s better they learn now how hard it can be.”

I waited a few seconds before replying. “You’re upset right now, so this isn’t going to make much sense, but I am not mad at you, and when you have calmed down, I’m here if you want to talk.”

It took him a few seconds to realize I was paraphrasing his own words. He gave me a mirthless smile and waggled a finger at me. “Nice try, my dear, but I am immune from my own spells. I do give you an A for effort.”

“Brad and Kyle belong together,” I said like I was reciting an oath. “You know it as well as I do. If he comes in here, will you try to talk some sense into him?”

He laughed. “I think he found all the sense he needs.”

I practically sprinted to the counter and grabbed the dog tag chain he wore around his neck. “If you are a decent human being, you will talk to him and try to keep whatever emotional cancer you have out if it. Those two were
born
to be together. I’m sorry some kid was mean to you in high school, but this is different, and you know it.” He said nothing as he stared back at me. “I’m asking you as a friend, No, I’m begging you. Please keep your own shit out of it and help him.”

He said nothing but just nodded.

I let him go. “Thank you.”

He straightened the chain, and we stood there in uncomfortable silence for almost a minute before he said, “So you done going all She-Ra on me?” I nodded. “Fine. There is new stuff on the rack. Go look and let’s never speak of this again.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

I
WAS
halfway home when Kyle texted me.
Can you come over?

It was the first actual sign of life I had seen or heard from him, so of course, I pulled over and texted him that of course I could. Ten minutes later I was knocking on his door. He answered, and I asked immediately, “What’s wrong?”

He handed me an envelope without saying a word. I felt like he was giving me a ransom letter for a few seconds. He nodded at it, and I read who it was from. It was from UC Berkeley. It was still sealed shut. “Is this for real?” I asked even though I knew it was. He nodded, and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I tried to hand it back to him, but he just shook his head.

“I can’t open it,” he said weakly. “I think I’m going to have a stroke.”

“You want me to open it?” He practically collapsed onto the couch and nodded. I sat across from him and began to carefully open it, afraid that if I tore it open it might explode or something. I got halfway and asked him again, “You’re sure?” He nodded again. I ripped the rest of the way and opened it, revealing the piece of paper inside. I unfolded it and peered inside the envelope, wondering if fireworks were going to come screaming out of it.

He leaned back and closed his eyes as I began to read it.

I gasped as I got to the middle of the first paragraph.

“What’s it say?” he asked me anxiously.

“You got in,” I said, not believing what I was reading. “They’re offering you a full scholarship, including room and board.” I turned the paper over. “There is a web address. They want you to go and register.” He seemed to have stopped breathing. “Kyle, you just got into college!” I screamed, throwing the paper up in the air. I rushed over and hugged him, but he didn’t move, frozen in shock.

“Did you hear me? You just got a full ride to Berkeley!”

He looked at me and blinked a few times before nodding. “I got into college.” I felt like cheering. “In California.” I couldn’t contain my smile anymore.

I went to hug him again, and he stopped me, and we locked eyes. “Don’t tell Brad.”

That was when I knew this wasn’t all good news.

A
FTER
A
while I went home in a daze. I had never seen someone so depressed about good news in my life. Luckily I had my laptop in my trunk so he could log on and verify that the letter was for real. The amount of the scholarship was insane. He seemed confused since the SAT score that got him in was one of the ones he was trying to beat, but it seemed he had more than enough to qualify for Berkeley. He wouldn’t go into why I couldn’t tell Brad.

I fell asleep with an upset stomach, knowing I should say something.

That day my dad and I went to church and then took in a late breakfast at Nancy’s. We began to talk about what was new, and I told him about Kyle’s letter.

“That’s impressive,” he admitted after a few seconds. “What about you?”

I shrugged. “What about me?”

“Have you applied anywhere?”

“No. It’s not like we’re rich or anything. I was thinking community college or something. Maybe I could get a job at Robbie’s.”

I looked away because it wasn’t what I wanted in the least, but it was realistic. My dad didn’t make a ton of money; there was no way he could afford a real college.

He put his hand on mine. “Jennifer.” When I didn’t look at him, his voice got sterner. “Jennifer.” I looked up. “You think I haven’t been ready for this? You think I haven’t been planning for this since the day you were born? Do you want to go to college?” I nodded, feeling my eyes beginning to sting. “Then how about you apply to where you want to go and let me worry about paying for it.”

“You don’t have the money for—” I began to protest.

He put up one finger, stopping me in midrant. “Me, grown-up. You, child.” I gave him a look. “Okay, fine—you, young woman. Me, worry about money and finances. You, worry about boys and whatever you think about.”

I rolled my eyes. “It isn’t that easy,” I tried to explain.

He didn’t even blink. “Yes, it is. I want you to have the life you want. Let me give it to you.”

I hated that I began to cry.

“Okay, I’m going to take that as a yes,” he said, leaning back in the booth. “Let me ask you a question.” I looked up. “What do you think of Dorothy Aimes?”

I looked up, and my tears stopped as I smiled. “Oh… really?”

He blushed and looked away. “Forget I said a thing.”

I didn’t say anything more, but I think my dad has a crush on Kelly’s mom.

I
WAS
almost ready for bed when someone began banging on my bedroom door.

I tossed on a robe and cracked the door to see Brad standing there out of breath. “Brad? What the hell….”

He came barging in my room, oblivious that I was a little freaked out he was there that late on a Sunday. “I had to tell someone before I exploded.”

There was no way I was shutting the door. Gay or not, Brad was a boy, and my dad was not going to let a boy be in my room with me, so instead I sat on the edge of my bed in clear view of the hall. “Tell someone what?”

He handed me a letter, and I felt a sense of déjà vu. My first instinct that it was some kind of joke—that somehow Kyle and he were playing the most elaborate practical joke I had ever heard of. “Is this for real?” I asked, hoping this had all been a bad joke and, if it was, then they were still together.

He nodded, and I knew it was for real.

It was a letter of intent from A&M saying they were willing to negotiate a four-year scholarship for him to play ball. I looked up and saw my dad standing there. “Is this a scholarship?” I asked him.

He walked in and looked over the paper, but Brad answered. “No, my dad says they’re just saying they are interested in offering me something, but I need to say I’m going to sign with them before they make a deal.”

My dad looked up. “You know you can tell them to go to hell, right?” Brad looked a little shocked as my dad handed the paper over. “They’re asking you to do this because they don’t want to haggle with anyone. It’s a preemptive strike to make sure they get you.”

Brad smiled and folded the letter back up. “My dad said the same thing.”

My dad looked around and said, “Well, congratulations and all. Let’s wrap things up, okay?” He looked at me, and I nodded.

As soon as my dad walked out, Brad gave me a desperate look. “I need to ask you a favor.”

Oh God, this cannot be happening.

“Sure,” I said neutrally.

“Please don’t tell Kyle.”

Oh, I was wrong. It was much, much worse than that.

I don’t know if I’ll make it but watch how good I’ll fake it.

—Hot Chelle Rae

67 days left

R
OBBIE

S
O
ONCE
upon a time there were these two boys who fell in love.

Now you would think that in a world as vast as ours, with so many people and choices out there, two people making any kind of connection at all would be celebrated. Like winning the lottery or finding a magical box that takes you back to 1975 so you can see opening night of
A Chorus Line
, things like two people making a connection should be as valuable as they are rare.

But people who win the lottery usually don’t possess all of their teeth, and they blow the money before they actually get it, and with my luck if I was to find such a magical box, it would have been taken over by angelic statues that would end up trying to eat me. So what I am saying is, just because two people find each other in this world doesn’t mean it’s always a good thing.

Sometimes it leads nowhere. Sometimes it just peters out. And sometimes one of them is killed, and the other is left to wonder how to manage getting up each morning without chemical aid.

I digress.

So there are these two boys, and they fell in love. And as boys are prone to do, they ended up screwing things up. Boys, and I am referring to emotional boys—my criticism is not limited to chronological age—boys are stupid, stupid creatures. They spend an inordinate amount of time trying to be what they think society wants them to be, because the worst thing in the world a man can be called is a girl.

Which is offensive on so many levels I can’t even begin to explain.

Now call a girl a boy or a man or even a tomboy and she will shrug and roll her eyes because one, it is a stupid insult and two, there is nothing really offensive in the statement. Which I think is funny, since guys are so stupid you’d think being called a guy would be an insult but it isn’t, and I can’t explain why except to say that up to this point it has been a man’s world, which explains why it is in such a crappy state, if you ask me.

Which you didn’t, so let me continue.

So the boys, being boys, screwed it up and then made it worse. One of the boys, who was a big baby and fearful of anything that resembled actual human emotion, ran away from his feelings and refused to hear the other boy. The other boy had done everything but fall to his knees and beg the first boy to take him back. It was an impressive display of nonboyness, if you ask me, since the second boy could have easily dated anyone he wanted, but he fought for the first boy’s heart.

Which of course just scared the first boy to death.

So for two weeks this went on, the first boy running and the second boy chasing, while their friends looked on in confusion. I’d seen it before. A group of friends are close, and then a couple breaks up and suddenly it’s like a messy divorce, and the kids have to figure out who they want to live with. No one knew who they wanted to live with yet; they were still under the impression the two boys might make up.

I was not under that impression at all.

You see, teenage love bored me. In fact, most love bored me these days, but let’s not stray, shall we? We’re talking about the boys. Teenage love is like glitter. Don’t look at me that way. I have logic on my side. You see, glitter is a wondrous thing. It is sparkly and beautiful, and it can be entrancing in the right light. Glitter, on the surface, seems to be one of the best things in the world, especially in a club as you kiss that boy at midnight and it is falling all around you, making even the nastiest dive look magical.