Pushing Perfect(78)

“People do all sorts of things,” he said. “They travel, or get jobs or externships. They figure out who they are, and who they want to be.”

“Why aren’t you going to do one?”

“Because my parents went through a lot for my education, and I’ve started to realize that maybe their whole thing about wanting me to be a doctor like them wasn’t just about them; it was about something they saw in me. I really do enjoy my science classes, and helping people, even if I went about it all wrong. If I want to be a doctor, I’ll probably have to do an extra year to make up for not taking enough science classes in high school, and I don’t want to wait to get started.”

That was unexpected. We really did have a lot to learn about each other. “Wow,” I said.

“I know, right? I’m going to be quite the respectable gentleman after all.” He reached over and took my hand. “Just think about the gap year thing, okay? Going from all this pressure to a place like Harvard, or whatever fantastic school you choose, will be a lot. There’s nothing wrong with making sure you’re ready.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, and I knew I really would.

“But not tonight,” he said. “Tonight we need to think about happy things, to let go of the worry and the stress and just enjoy ourselves, yes? Should we leave this picnic table and do something more memorable? This is our first date, after all.”

“You don’t think our evening’s been memorable enough?”

“We can do better,” he said. “Come on, let’s go.”

I took his hand, and we went off to find an adventure.





30.


“You didn’t,” Alex said.

“I did,” I said. “I kissed him first and everything.” I’d called her as soon as I woke up and told her she had to come over immediately. She was there within an hour, coffees in hand. She sat at my desk while I curled up on my bed; I’d only gotten up long enough to do super-basic SCAM. Just in case I changed my mind.

“You realize I’ve never seen your room before,” she’d said.

“That’s true, isn’t it? You were just in the living room that one time. Yours is so awesome, there was never really any reason for you to come here.” I thought about that for a second, and then realized I wasn’t being completely honest. And the whole point of having her come over was that I was trying to be. “No, that’s not really it. It’s more that your house is fun—your parents are around a lot of the time, and you have your crazy kitchen routine, and it’s just so loving and warm, and my parents work all the time, and I guess I didn’t want you to know how cold it can feel here sometimes. Not that they don’t love me. It’s just—”

“I know what you mean,” she said. “And I get it. Although you’ve deprived me of the opportunity to see how you live.” She looked around at my room, with its lavender walls and violet comforter and fluffy white rug. “I hadn’t realized you were such a fan of purple.”

“It looks terrible on me, so I can’t wear it. I decided it was better just to surround myself with it at home.”

“So what’s the big news?”

There were a couple of things I wanted to share with her, and questions to ask, too. Starting with the Raj story, of course. She’d kill me if I made her talk about Justin first. I told her everything: about the conversation, and the kiss, and the rest of the night, when we’d driven to Pacifica and walked along the water, just talking.

“Just talking? Seriously?”

“Okay, mostly talking.” My face felt warm. I was not used to having this conversation. But that’s what friends did. They talked about the guys they liked. I wanted to be a good friend, since if there was one thing I’d learned, it was that Alex had been a pretty great friend to me all along, even if it had taken me a while to recognize it.

“So what does this all mean?”

“Why does it have to mean anything?” I asked. “You and your Prospects—what do they mean?”

“This is not even a little bit similar, and you know it,” she said. “Besides, I think I’m ready to ditch the idea of Prospects. Maybe consider something a little more substantial.”

“Are you now? What brought that on?” I hoped by “something a little more substantial” she meant Bryan. He’d be good for her.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” she said. “I thought keeping things light was a good idea, back when Justin and I were friends. But now that I look back, I wonder whether I avoided getting into anything real so it wouldn’t interfere with that friendship. I don’t think it has to be that way. Or maybe I just don’t want it to be, anymore.”

“How did the conversation with Justin go?” I asked.

“As well as it could. I’m still really mad at him, and not just for what he told Ms. Davenport—I’d never told him how pissed off the whole secret-boyfriend thing made me. And I should have. I let things fester too long, and now we’re in this place where we don’t trust each other, and that trust will take a long time to get back.”

“Do you want to get it back?”

“I want things to be better than they are now,” she said.