Save the Date(113)

Me

Hey—things wrapped up here.

Can I still come over?





CHAPTER 25


Or, Meanwhile, Back in the Basement . . .




* * *



I SAT ON THE ARM of the couch in Jesse’s basement, twisting my hands together and reminding myself to breathe. Jesse had texted me, letting me know the side door was open and that I should let myself in, and to text him when I got there.

I smoothed my hands over the silk of my dress, flexed my feet in my heels, then pushed myself up to standing and paced around the room. I was feeling restless, like the energy coursing through me was making it impossible to sit still. I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping that some of the curls had stayed and hadn’t just turned into frizz. It had been raining steadily, and just getting to my car and then getting to Jesse’s had gotten me fairly soaked—I hadn’t had the presence of mind, when I’d been fleeing the house, to grab an umbrella.

I stopped pacing and made myself sit back down on the couch, pretzeling my legs so I couldn’t go jumping up again. I glanced around the basement—it looked the same as it had over Christmas break. The couch was the same, and the table and chairs in the corner, the dented air-hockey table. The garlands and the Santa hat were gone, of course. But aside from that, nothing had really changed. So I couldn’t figure out why the room felt different now.

Whenever I’d played back the events of that night in my head, Jesse’s basement had taken on a grand stature, every detail cataloged in my mind—the feel of the corduroy couch underneath my bare skin, the way Jesse had been framed by the moonlight coming through the windows. It had all seemed perfect and romantic. But now . . .

The longer I was there, taking it in, I realized it was just a basement. There was a stain on the corner of the rug, and I could see where the fabric on the couch arms was worn. There were chip crumbs on the coffee table and a sweating Dr Pepper can slowly leaving a water ring on the wood.

Which was fine, I told myself firmly, running a hand through my hair. This was the reality of Jesse’s basement, same as it had been in December, and I couldn’t be upset because it wasn’t matching up to what I’d remembered in my head. And I was here now, back in his house, and this was going to happen. That’s what I needed to focus on—not my parents or the fight or how everything with my family was wrecked and in pieces. Just this moment, right now.

I heard steps coming down the stairs and quickly ran a hand through my hair again.

“Hey,” Jesse said, taking the last few steps two at a time. He smiled at me. “You made it.”

“I made it,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and relaxed, like it was just totally normal for me to be back here, like there was nothing unusual about me being alone with Jesse again.

“How was the rest of the wedding?” Jesse asked, sitting next to me on the couch and throwing one arm over the back of it.

“It was good,” I said. This, at least, was true—the wedding had been good. It was just everything that followed that had been awful. All in a rush, I blurted out, “I’m really glad you came home this weekend. It’s really—really good to see you.”

Jesse smiled at that, leaning back against the couch cushions. He looked totally relaxed, which I supposed made sense, since this was his house, but it made me that much more aware of how jumpy I felt, sitting across from him, my pulse beating hard in my throat. “I was glad to have the chance to hang out with Mike. And you,” he added after a pause. “I might actually head out early tomorrow,” he added with a shrug. “Some other friends from Stanwich are around, and we’re talking about maybe going to Mohegan Sun. . . .” I nodded, even though it felt like something was gripping my stomach. Jesse was going to leave? Tomorrow? I’d just assumed I’d see him tonight, and then we’d somehow work things out, and then we’d be together. I wasn’t exactly sure what happened to bridge those two things—I hadn’t gotten that far whenever I’d been dreaming about it—but I was pretty sure none of my fantasies about this had included him going off to a resort-slash-casino. “And then back to school,” he said with a groan. He turned to me, his brow furrowed, and he tilted his head to the side slightly. “Where are you going again?”

I took a breath, about to say Stanwich—but was I still? If everything that would have kept me here was gone? “I was going to go to Stanwich,” I said. “But . . .”

“Staying local,” Jesse said with a nod. “Nothing wrong with that. I know you’ll have a great time.” He gave me a lazy smile. “You’ll be breaking hearts all over campus.”

I smiled at that, even though it felt like something in my chest had just plunged. Why was he talking about me breaking hearts? Why was he talking about me and other guys at all? Didn’t he realize that he was the guy? “Um,” I started, trying to bring myself back to the moment. Things were still fine. I was here, with Jesse, on his couch, wearing a beautiful dress. Things were fine. He was trying to give me a compliment and just going about it in a weird way. “I guess so.”

“I know it,” he said, giving me another slow-building smile. “I always thought you were cute, Charlie.”

All the confusion I’d been feeling a second earlier was immediately swept away. I felt something warm start to spread through me, radiating out from my stomach. “You did?”