Forever for a Year(35)

Ugh. This is really hard, combining friends and school and liking boys. I wish I could have an on/off switch in my brain so I could think about things only when I wanted to or needed to and then I wouldn’t think about things I wanted to when I needed to think about something else. That makes sense, right? I think so.

Anyway, so I was trying not to look across the cafeteria toward Trevor. It was impossible to see him through all the people, so it was really just staring at nothing except the idea of where he might be sitting, and what he might be doing, and thinking, and saying, and then—

Wait a minute. No, more than that:

WAIT A MINUTE!

He was suddenly taking three last steps toward our table, his tray in his hand, like he had just appeared out of fog, except that is silly, but really, it was like he had superpowers that allowed him to just materialize and, whoosh, there he was. He looked so amazing, and tall, and handsome, and best, best, best of all, he was looking right at me and he said, “Mind if I sit by you?”

And Peggy—because she had been taken over by an evil witch!—said, “This is our table.” Oh my gosh, I despised every inch of her whole stupid body, but I didn’t say anything to her, I just focused on Trevor and I said, “Of course you can sit here!” I wish I hadn’t said it sounding like I was five years old, but Trevor liked it, I could tell, and then he sat next to me. Kendra was on the other side and Peggy sat across from us. She was still possessed because she said, “What’s wrong with your table?” But before I could say, He just wanted to be close to me, I stopped myself because I would have sounded so dumb, and anyway, Trevor said, “I think I need new friends.” But it sounded cool and tough, not desperate or pathetic like I probably would have.

Then I said, “I’ll be your friend,” which, obviously, sounded pathetic. But maybe Trevor didn’t think so because he gave me a super-small, almost secret smile, like he was a spy who had outsmarted everyone.

Kendra said, “I think Trevor wants to be more than your friend,” and I almost died, but all the soccer girls besides Peggy laughed. Then the second it got quiet (well, quiet at our table, the cafeteria was the least quiet place ever), Trevor said, “That’s true.” Which was sooo cool. My boyfriend is cool! Not just nice and attractive and amazing. Cool. (I know he’s not officially my boyfriend, but, well, you know what I mean.)

Peggy said, “I have to go,” and gave me this super-intense look that said, You are such a bitch, and then stood up and left. We never give that look to each other, so it made me super nervous and confused. Like, what was I supposed to do? I would have followed her and made things better every day of my life except today. Because TODAY Trevor was sitting next to me, and to get up and go after Peggy would be to leave Trevor by himself and I couldn’t do that. Just couldn’t. So I let Peggy walk off, and just when I thought I might cry, Trevor asked, “Is something wrong?” and touched my back with his hand. Oh. My. Gosh. I love him so much. I know you think I couldn’t possible love him already. But I do. I do. I do. I do. I do. I do. I do.

“Carolina?” he said, and he said it perfectly.

I do.





28

Trevor makes cereal twice

On Wednesday morning, when Lily and I were eating cereal, my mom walked into the kitchen and asked, “Where’s your dad?”

Lily responded faster than I did, mostly because she cares more about our mom not feeling like an idiot. “He flew to Los Angeles very early for work, Mom. Remember?”

“Oh. Right. I remember. When’s he coming back?”

“Thursday,” Lily said.

“Oh,” my mom said, then leaned against the kitchen island. She was feeling stupid, and I felt bad about not caring.

“Don’t worry about us. We can take care of ourselves, Mom,” I said, which was supposed to help her feel less pressure, but it only made it worse.

“I’m going to make us dinner tonight,” she said, proclaimed actually. Like she was announcing she was running for president.

“Do you want me to stay home and help?” Lily asked. Most kids might have said that because they wanted to skip school. Lily said it because she knew our mom had never cooked a real dinner in her life.

“No, Lily. I know you think your mom can’t do anything—”

“No, I don’t!” Lily said. Yes, she did. And so did I.

“But I’m not a bad cook. Just an unmotivated one. But I’m motivated today.” She walked over, leaned down, and put her arms around Lily. It was awkward, but it was still almost a hug. My mom hadn’t hugged us since she tried to kill herself, except when my dad was around and he basically ordered it. (In his nice “ordering” way.)

Then my mom looked at me. Crap. I think she wanted to hug me now. Not going to let that happen. So I looked down at my cereal bowl until she stood back up, walked away from the table, and turned on the coffee machine. My mom could maybe fool Lily, because Lily wanted to be fooled, into believing she was not a total failure of a parent. But no way could she fool me.

*

At lunch, Carolina and I sat together at her table with the soccer girls. I felt a little stupid sitting with only girls, but I’d rather feel a little stupid with Carolina than a total fraud with Henry and the rest of them. But maybe I should find new guy friends too.