Pushing Perfect(77)

I felt myself tense up, but in a good way. “Sure.”

“What you said to Alex, about us all having paid enough—did you really mean it?”

“Of course,” I said. “Don’t you agree?”

“It’s not that. It’s just—I keep thinking about what you told Alex a while back. About what kind of person you’d want to be with.”

“She should never have told you that,” I said. “And I never should have said it.”

“But on some level you meant it, didn’t you? Be honest with me.”

I decided I would. I was going to try to be as honest as I could with everyone, from now on. Lying hadn’t made my life any better, that was for sure. “I meant it at the time,” I said. “I had this really simplistic idea in my head about the kind of person who did what you were doing. Which was totally wrong. Not to mention that I ended up basically doing the same thing. And worse.”

“Is it still true, then?”

“What I think about who I would date?” Was he really asking what I thought he was asking?

He paused, as if to decide whether he really wanted to say it. “What you think about me.”

Well, that answered that question. “I thought you flirted with all the girls,” I said. “I saw how you were with Isabel.”

“No joking about this,” he said. “I’m serious. I know this experience has been horrible and we all want to put it behind us as fast as we can, but I have to tell you, getting to know you has been the only thing that made all of this bearable. And if we’re just going to be friends, that’s fine. But if there’s any chance, I want to know.”

He was saying exactly what I wanted him to, and yet it kind of scared me. Why did the idea of being with him, with anyone, feel like such a risk? Was it really just about the monster?

“We still don’t know each other all that well,” I said. “There are still things about me you should know.”

“We have time,” he said.

“Not a lot. We’re graduating soon.” The thought of turning my attention back to college applications was laughable, though.

“You’re fast-forwarding,” he said.

He was right; it was the same thing I always did. I’d told myself to slow down, but moving ahead was a habit by now.

“I haven’t dated all that much,” I said. “Or hooked up, or whatever.”

“Then we’ll take things very, very slowly,” he said. “Are these excuses? If you’re not into me, you can say it. It’s just that there were a couple of times when I saw you look at me and I thought maybe . . .”

I remembered what Alex had said when we talked about college. I’d decided not to enjoy high school, to put off living thinking my real life would start later, but that had led me to do something so stupid that I might never have gotten to live my real life at all. What was the point? What, exactly, was I waiting for?

I didn’t need to wait for anything. And I needed to stop being so afraid. I had to take a risk sometime, and here I was, sitting with a guy I really liked, who wasn’t afraid to tell me that he liked me back. He’d taken a chance, and now it was my turn.

“You thought right,” I said.

And then I leaned over and kissed him.

He clearly hadn’t been expecting it; his head wasn’t turned toward mine, so my lips landed on that space where his cheek and his lips met. But just when I thought I’d made a huge mistake, that this was the kind of super awkward moment I’d never get over, he figured it out. He pulled back for just a second, then realigned himself so we could start over, properly, our lips aligned. I was afraid for a minute that he’d reach for my face, like Drew had, but he just put his hands on my shoulders to pull me closer to him, and the moment went from being awkward to perfect.

“So we are celebrating after all,” Raj said, after we’d both pulled away. He couldn’t hide the big smile on his face, and I couldn’t hide mine, either. I didn’t want to.

“Not for long,” I said. “I’ve put off so much because of all of this. I have to get back to work. I just don’t know how I’m going to go back to just studying and dealing with college stuff again. That seems so far away. I don’t even know if I want the same things anymore.”

“What had you wanted?”

I told him about how I’d always wanted to go to Harvard, or someplace east, and my parents’ whole Stanford/Harvard issue, and how I still didn’t even know what I was going to write my essay about. “I mean, I’m not exactly going to use this whole blackmail scheme to explain how I’ve grown as a person.”

He laughed. “That would be hilarious, actually. And quite fitting. But probably not the best application strategy. I know I mentioned this to you before, but have you considered not going to college right away? Taking a gap year?”

“Not for a second,” I said.

“Well, maybe it’s time to think about it. It’s common practice in England, and more people here take time off than you’d think. You could focus on school without worrying about everything else, and your SAT score will still be good next year.”

“What would I do, though? I’ve never really done anything but school. I don’t want to just sit around and hang out with my parents.”