Hello, Goodbye, and Everything in Between(35)

It takes Clare a moment to find her voice. “I know. But then…”

“What?”

“Well, how can you blame me for the Harvard thing?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You were worried I’d want you to go,” she says. “If you got in. And honestly, you might be right. I don’t know. Sometimes it seems like it would be crazy to do anything other than break up. But other times…”

“Not so much.”

“Not so much,” she agrees. “Part of me still thinks it might’ve been nice to be closer.”

Aidan bends to pick up an acorn, twisting at the little cap. “I know I should’ve told you.”

“It’s okay,” she says, though it’s not quite—at least not yet.

“But a lot of it was just that I felt really bad about the whole Stanford thing.”

“I wasn’t ever actually gonna—”

“I know,” he says. “But still. I feel like we kind of had a deal, even if it was mostly just a joke. Even if neither of us expected it to go anywhere. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t pull the trigger on that stupid application.”

“Because you were afraid I’d want you to go.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Because I was afraid I’d want to go.”

Clare looks at him sharply. “What?”

He shrugs. “I’ve always hated the idea of Harvard. Obviously. And you know I’ve always wanted to be in California. I mean, I still can’t believe I got into UCLA.…”

“I know, but—”

He cuts her off, looking down at the acorn in his palm. “But I was worried that if I got in, I might still choose Harvard.”

“Why?”

“Because it would’ve been closer to you.”

Clare stares at him. “Seriously?”

“I love you,” he says simply, as if this is what she was asking. And she supposes that, in a way, it was.

“Aidan…” she begins, not sure what to say.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” he says. “I think we’re both ending up in the right places. All of us, really. Maybe even Scotty. Who knows, right?”

She manages a nod. “Who knows.”

Inside the house, the music has been turned up again, and people are streaming in and out of the kitchen with their cups held high, swaying to the beat.

Clare glances up at the sky, which is pocked with stars, and closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, Aidan is watching her intently, his face only inches from hers, as if he’s about to kiss her. She pulls back uncertainly, and he frowns.

“You’re definitely gonna have a shiner.”

Clare brings a hand to her cheek, touching it lightly. “So are you,” she says. “Maybe even two.”

“Yeah, but on your first day at school…” he says with a groan. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe we did that.”

“It’s okay,” she says, doing her best to smile in spite of the pressure of her swollen eye. “I’ll look tough. No one’ll want to mess with me.”

He laughs. “Oh, yeah, you’ll be super intimidating.”

Behind them, someone slides open the screen door and then, with a burst of laughter, tosses a pair of sneakers out onto the patio. One of the shoes rolls over a few times and lands right behind them, and Aidan looks at Clare with a wrinkled nose.

“Does that smell like…?” he asks, and she nods.

“Puke. Definitely puke.” She narrows her eyes at the damp sneaker. “Any chance you want to go for a walk or something?”

Aidan hops to his feet and extends a hand to help her up, too. “Let’s get out of here.”

Around the side of the house, there’s a gated wooden fence that leads out to the street, which is still lined with cars, the sure sign of a successful party. When they pass Aidan’s Volvo, Clare has an urge to climb in, to tell him to start the engine and just drive until they’re somewhere, anywhere but California or New Hampshire. But instead, they walk past it without a word and continue down the street in no particular direction.

It’s after midnight now, and the houses are mostly dark. Every once in a while, they see a flickering TV or the glowing eyes of a cat in a window, but for the most part, this area of town has already been tucked in, and the quiet is thick and ringing, a sound like static.

“I feel bad about your list,” Aidan says after they’ve walked for a little while, turning right here and left there, winding their way deeper into the muffled suburban night. “I feel like it all sort of went awry.”

Clare shrugs. “That’s what I get for over-planning.”

“What did we skip?”

The slip of paper is in her back pocket, but she doesn’t take it out. “I don’t know. We were supposed to get ice cream. Stop by the movie theater. Go to the gazebo.”

“Those weren’t firsts, though, right?”

“No, just places that meant something.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t make it, then,” he says, looking at her sideways, and the words flood Clare with a kind of icy grief. She stops walking without meaning to and stares at him, and when Aidan turns around, she can see the recognition on his face, can see the look behind his eyes as he realizes exactly what he just said.