Everything Leads to You(89)

“All right,” I say. “It’s accepted.”

“I also want to tell you that I haven’t been at my best.”

I nod, but she can’t see me.

“You met me during a difficult time,” she says.

“I think I’m partially responsible for that.”

“Maybe,” she says. “But you’re also responsible for making it better.”

I don’t ask her what she means by that, because I’m afraid she’ll talk about the money, or that she knows a little more about her mother, or that she’s only an announcement away from instant celebrity if she ever chooses to reveal that she’s a descendant of an actor well known for having no descendants. In other words, I’m afraid that it would have everything to do with what I wanted for her, and nothing at all to do with me.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says. “I can’t believe we shoot on Monday.”

“Yeah” I say. “Everyone’s really excited about you.”

“I hope it’s still okay with you. That I’m in it.”

“Of course.”

Here is what I want to say: It doesn’t matter that you’re in the movie; I would be thinking about you all the time anyway. I want to say, It all leads to you. Not just the letter and the obituary, the articles and your birth date. But also this particular time in my life. The heartbreak and the art and all of the longing. I want to say, Every time I add a detail to the apartment I imagine you in it.

Instead, I say, “You’ll make a really great Juniper.”

And she says, “So I’ll see you Monday then?”

And I say, “Yes. I’ll see you then.”

And then I drag Charlotte out of house, saying, “We have so much to do, we have to go.”

Once we’re in her car she asks, “What was that about?”

I say, “You have to tell Toby.”

“What?”

“You have to tell him how you feel about him. You have to tell him right now.”

“But he’s in England.”

“I don’t care.”

Every breath I take feels jagged. Anything could make me cry.

“I reread Clyde’s letter when I was at Ava’s house. Remember how we thought he said nothing? It isn’t true. I got that wrong, too. He says so much in that letter. It’s all about the danger in leaving things unsaid. It’s about failure. How could he have sat there with Caroline and not told her all the things that he wanted to? We all get so afraid. We need to be brave.”

I knew that heartbreak was terrible, but never knew that I could feel this way over a girl I haven’t even kissed.

“I don’t know what I should have done,” I say. “Maybe that day at her house, after I knew for sure how I felt about her, I should have just told her.”

I lean forward and rest my head against the glove compartment. I don’t mean to be dramatic, but I can’t help it.

“What’s the use in waiting until the right moment if that moment never comes?” I say. “What if the moment escapes you in the split second when your focus was elsewhere?”

I reach for her purse and find her phone nestled in a little pocket.

“God,” I say, “you’re so organized.”

She’s wide-eyed and staring at me. I hand her the phone.

“Just call him,” I say, and then I get out of the car and let her do it alone.

A minute later she knocks on the window and I go back inside.

“I left him a message.”

“What did you say?”

“I said no pressure, but for the record I’ve had a crush on him since sixth grade. And that now I’m no longer in high school maybe we could hang out sometime.”

I laugh and swat away the tears that have traitorously been dripping down my face.

“Emi,” she says. “I’m sorry. I think I gave you bad advice.”

I can’t even respond. I’ve never known Charlotte to be wrong, but I do think she might have been wrong about this.

“It seemed too fast for you, after everything with Morgan. And it seemed like Ava really needed friends,” Charlotte says. “But you can still be her friend, even if you’re more than that. And you were right. She is great. She’s fun and interesting and smart and nice. And beautiful. And talented. I was watching her rehearsal footage the other night. She’s really talented.”