Forever for a Year(33)

I didn’t hear from Peggy until Sunday evening. She called and said, “Hi.”

“How are you? You okay? I was so worried.” And I was worried, I was, I just hadn’t thought about how worried I was because of Trevor. I’m a horrible person.

“My mom is taking away my phone, but she went to the store, so I’m using it now.”

“Is she super mad?”

“Yeah, but she’s always super mad, so I don’t care. But I’m never drinking again. You were so smart. I’m sorry. I was so sick yesterday. Last week was so strange. I can’t wait for things to go back to normal. You’re the best friend in the world, Carrie.”

I didn’t correct her. But I did say, “You are too, Marguerite.”

“I’m sorry. Carolina,” she said.

“I don’t care.” I did care. But I didn’t want to make her feel bad.

“Don’t you think our new names sound dumb? I think we should just go back to Peggy and Carrie.”

“Those were our junior high names.”

“Don’t you wish,” Peggy said, then stopped, then started again, “we could just go back to being in junior high? Things were so much better there.”

“Yeah,” I said, but then I said, “but I like high school. I think it’s good that we got older.”

“I want to be Peggy,” she said, and I could tell she was mad at me.

“Okay. But I want to be Carolina.”

“I want to call you Carrie.” This made me mad. But I had done a horrible job of calling her Marguerite both in my head and to her face, so I just said, “Okay, but I want everyone else to call me Carolina.”

“Like Kendra?” she said.

“Yes. And … everyone.” I didn’t even want to tell her about Trevor. She was in the worst mood ever.

“That’s fine. I’ll be special. I’ll be the only one that knows the real you.” This used to make me feel so good, but Peggy didn’t say it to make me feel good, I don’t think. We talked a little bit more, about unimportant stuff like homework, and then we hung up and I felt really sad and I didn’t really know why, but then I saw a text.





TREVOR


Are you free next Saturday?

So I texted back within one second:





ME


Yes :)





TREVOR


Want to hang out with me?





ME


Yes :)





TREVOR


;)

So. Like. (Don’t say “like” so much, Carolina. Really.) So. Next Saturday would be … a date, right? Yes. My first high school date. My first real date, EVER.

This was the most amazing thing in the history of the universe. I’m exaggerating, but I’m doing it on purpose because I’m funny. But really. It was really the most amazing thing that ever happened to me, and my dad says we each live in our own private universes, so it’s funny and true, sort of. Never mind.

But really! I had a date! But it was literally six billion years away. I could never wait that long. I’d think about it every second and not be able to study or walk or probably even breathe. Gosh. Really, Carolina. Stop being such a silly little girl who makes such a big deal out of everything. You’ll be fine. It’s just a week. Six days.

OH MY GOSH. That’s so amazing. And forever.





26

Trevor has a seat saved

On the way to school Tuesday, despite Carolina and I texting constantly all weekend, I was sure, just goddamn sure, that when she saw me again in biology, she was not going to like me anymore. Or forget what I looked like. Not who I was. But more like, “Oh, wait, you don’t look anything like the boy I said I liked on Friday night.”

Yeah, I’m sort of obsessed with worst-case scenarios. You know why? Because it’s a lot better than thinking everything is going to be great and then something, anything, going wrong. You know why else? Because bad stuff always happens!

But you know what? After I got off the bus, as I was walking through the front doors of the school, my phone beeped with a text.

It was from Carolina:





CAROLINA


I got to class early and saved

you the desk next to me.

My face snapped into the goofy-ass smile. How. Did. I. Find. The. Most. Awesome. Girl. On. The. Planet? Then, because I’m the weakest, worst jerk on the planet, I started thinking that when I saw Carolina I wouldn’t like her. I’d be like, “Oh, wait, you don’t look anything like the girl I said I liked on Friday night.” Crap. Crap! This was gonna happen, I just knew it.

So I closed my eyes as I walked into class, just not wanting to face the truth, and then—

Crap.

Craaap.

She looked even prettier than I had ever seen her look. Her eyes lit up the room. Cliché! Do better, Trevor!

Her eyes were …

Her eyes were … beams of white and brown, pulling me toward her, calming my mind and inspiring my heart.…

That’s terrible. Like, the worst poetry ever written. Screw it.

Her eyes just made me want to look at her. Okay? Look at her and no one else. Couldn’t see the big-ass wall behind her. Nothing. Nothing else. Just her.