Forever for a Year(49)

Then I called Trevor even though it was seven thirty a.m. and he was already on the bus to his race and he answered and I SCREAMED into the phone and said yes, yes, yes, yes, like, six hundred times, and he laughed. I said I couldn’t wait to see him at his cross-country meet (he finally was letting me come and watch), and then I said, “Good luck, best boyfriend ever,” and we hung up.

I turned to my mom and dad (who had gotten up because no one within a hundred miles could sleep after my screaming), and I was crying from being so happy, and I said, “I love him.” And my dad said, “Really?” but with a smile because he thought he was funny. And my mom said, “I know. We’re happy for you.”

“Really?” I said, but not being funny.

And she nodded. I ran and hugged them both at the same time, which I hadn’t done since I was a baby or at least forever. It felt amazing.

*

The cross-country race was an invitational with twelve other schools. It was a big deal. Even though Trevor didn’t tell me it was a big deal, I could tell. He was running junior varsity after winning the freshman meet last week, which was a big deal, but again, he didn’t tell me it was a big deal, I just could tell. What was weird was that after he told me he had won the freshman race and told me without even being excited, I started thinking he was a really good athlete, like as good as I am or maybe even better. And even weirder? I didn’t like it! Oh my gosh, how could I be competitive with my boyfriend? Shouldn’t I want him to be the best in the world, even if it’s a hundred times better than me? I should! I should! But I was jealous and worried that he would go on and be this famous runner, like at the Olympics, and I would be just his girlfriend who hadn’t done anything and nobody cared about.…

Carolina, don’t be silly. This was dumb. So dumb.

Anyway, the race was at this huge park in Naperville, which was a long drive. So Mr. and Mrs. Santos picked me up in their fancy SUV, and Lily was in the back seat, and I felt like I was part of their family. I dressed up a little, but not much. I just wanted Trevor’s mom to think I was pretty enough for her son. Gosh, that sounds terrible. But it’s true so I can’t lie and say it’s not.

On the drive to Naperville, Lily asked me a million questions (like, literally), and I loved answering them because every answer I gave she thought was so interesting. Mr. Santos would laugh sometimes at us, which I liked, but Mrs. Santos didn’t laugh at anything and was quiet and I thought she didn’t like me anymore. I tried not to think about it, even though I kept thinking about it the whole time.

When we got to the race, all the runners were warming up by running with their teams in small laps. Lily grabbed my hand and made me sprint toward Trevor and the other kids from Riverbend.

“Trevor!” Lily yelled, and my face turned red because I felt like maybe both of us looked like we were seven. “Your sister and your girlfriend are here to watch you!”

Then the other boys started laughing, and one of them yelled in a mocking little girl’s voice, “Trevor! Your sister and your girlfriend are here to watch you!” And everyone laughed even louder, and I felt so stupid, like I wished I hadn’t come, but then Trevor broke away from his team and ran toward us and Lily leaped into his arms and he kissed me on the cheek. Gosh. He knew how to make me feel so good no matter what was happening. SEE WHY I HAD TO MARRY HIM?

All the family and friends (and girlfriends!) gathered in the center of the big park and the junior varsity runners took off their sweatpants and gathered near the starting line. Trevor was wearing these very short shorts and a tight tank top. Even though we had spent at least one weekend night (and the last weekend both Friday and Saturday) making out on his basement couch and he had touched my boobs (well, he touched my bra and it wasn’t that big a deal; I mean, it was, but I don’t know) and I had touched his bare chest and even his penis (not his bare penis—do you call it a bare penis?—just his penis through his jeans), seeing him there with so few clothes on, it made me feel weird. Maybe it was a good weird? His muscles were very lean. He was thin but not skinny. He was so handsome. I knew this from the first second I saw him, but I never thought about him having a nice body. Tall and toned and so … hot. Gosh. My boyfriend was hot. I suddenly got insecure. I didn’t want him to be hot! Handsome, yes, but hot was …

I wasn’t hot. Maybe I was pretty. Trevor had convinced me I was pretty. But he never called me hot. No one would ever call me hot, I was sure. But Trevor, gosh, he was hot. And so many girls would want him and he would become a model and become famous and he would leave me for another model and I would be alone and I’d cry every time I saw his picture in a magazine looking so hot.… I wished he was handsome but fat. Not fat. Chubby. Just a little. I’d feel much better about being so in love with him if he wasn’t so perfect.





38

Trevor has a race

Every day that ticked by, tick-tick-tick, and Carolina didn’t dump me or wasn’t mean to me, but just kept being this f*cking perfect girl and girlfriend, I started to think more and more that I didn’t understand who I was or what I was supposed to be. I knew—knew—that life was meaningless, I did, but now I was waking up … excited. Excited to go to see her, talk to her, text her. But also excited to go to school. And excited to go to cross-country practice. And excited for stupid crap like dinner with my parents. An alien had taken over my soul. And the worst part? I liked it.