What to Say Next(24)

“Okay,” she says, and looks up, and for a quick second our eyes meet. I break contact first. “I kinda like talking to you too.”

—

Later, at the end of the school day, I see Kit as she walks to her car. Even though we have five classes together, with the wonderful lunch exception it seems we have tacitly agreed not to talk to each other during the day while in school. This is fine by me, since I like my routine. I have a playlist and my headphones for all classroom transitions. But now that we are outside, I wave with my keys in my hands. I think of this as the equivalent of laughing at myself, which my family often reminds me I need to do more often. She smiles.

“Yeah, so I’m not going to offer you a ride home again,” she says. “It wouldn’t be fair to your mom.”

“That’s too bad. You’re a very good driver.” Kit’s face closes. I am not sure exactly what I mean—she has not moved a single muscle, but she’s suddenly like a computer that’s been powered down. I prefer her face when it’s open.

“See you later,” she says, and slips into her red Toyota Corolla, a car that suits her in a way her name does not. I wave once more, a silly gesture that I instantly regret when I notice what must have made Kit close her face. Gabriel and Justin are watching us.

—

“Wait, she said those words: I kinda like talking to you too. Seriously?” Miney asks when I get home from school. She’s lying on the couch in a way that makes it seem like she has been there all day. Her hair is tangled and she’s wearing her favorite pajamas: the ones I bought for her for Christmas two years ago that say ODD next to a picture of a duck wearing a tiara. She forgot them when she left for college, and though I offered to FedEx them, she told me it was too much of a hassle. When I said I didn’t mind, she said she liked knowing they were home safe, where they couldn’t get lost or stolen. That’s how I know they are her favorite.

“Yes. Those exact words. And then we chatted about how much we both liked old eighties movies. She’s a John Hughes fan too. I told her that he died at the age of fifty-nine. Just dropped dead of a heart attack. Here one day, gone the next. Just like her dad. I mean, Kit’s dad died in a car accident, but same concept. Blink here. Blink gone.”

“Little D.” Miney sits up and shakes her head. “You can’t. I mean, you got to be careful about the dead dad stuff.”

“Kit says she likes that I tell the truth. She called it ‘brutal honesty,’ but I think it’s the same thing.”

Miney stays still for a minute. She’s wearing her thinking face.

“I think you need to ask Kit out.”

“What?”

“Not like on a date or anything. Not yet. Something super-casual. Maybe to study. Or to work on a school project together. You need to up your time together in a way that feels like a natural extension of lunch.” Miney pulls her hair back from her face and ties it in a ponytail. The purple gets mostly hidden, and I feel the tightness in my chest lighten. Her eyes are still bloodshot, and there are triangles of blue below them. I will pick up some zinc lozenges from the drugstore later in case she’s getting sick. “I wish I remembered Kit from when I went to Mapleview. I looked up her Twitter and Instagram and stuff, but it didn’t tell me much. She seems surprisingly normal.”

“Why is that surprising? I told you she was perfect. Also, she’s the prettiest girl in school.”

“Eh, she’s cute enough.” I have no idea what she’s cute enough for, but I don’t ask. Whatever Kit is, I like it.

“Why would we study together? I’m way ahead in all my subjects. It would be inefficient.” I stare at the right side of Miney’s face. That way I can’t see the new piercing. Like the purple stripe, it screams at me. No, there’s a slight octave shift. It feels like it’s demanding something, but I don’t know what.

“Missing the point. But before we get to any of that, if you want any shot here, we need to clean you up. The time has come, Little D.”

Miney smiles in that way she does when she’s about to force me to do something scary. She’s like Trey that way. Always pushing me out of what she calls “my comfort zone,” which I’ll never understand. Why would you purposely make yourself uncomfortable?

Since Miney is number one on the Trust List, I try hard to do whatever she asks. That’s not always possible.

“The time has come for what?” I think of Kit’s clavicle. The perfect little circle of freckles. Pi. It relaxes me, like counting backward.

“Shopping, Little D. Time to get over your fear of the big bad mall.” Yup, I was right. Horrifying.





David Drucker is officially everywhere. In the parking lot before and after school. In almost all my classes. And, of course, at lunch, since I continue to choose his table as a refuge. Presumably he has always been in all these places, but until now I’ve never noticed him. You would think someone who is that bizarre wouldn’t be able to camouflage, but he is so entirely self-contained on his strange headphone island that he moves silently through school. He causes almost no ripple.

Still, after what is shaping up to be the Week of David, it’s just plain weird when I run into him at the drugstore. And I mean that literally. We are both looking down when our shoulders crash. Ouch.