A Midsummer's Nightmare(70)

“Something like that,” I said. “I was eight, I think. My first basketball game at UK. Mom didn’t want to go.”

“That was a good day.”

I nodded.

“Done,” Nathan said, stepping down from the chair. “The decorating is complete.”

I smiled, looking around my room. I may have only been staying there for another week or so, but I’d be back. And when I came back, this space would still be mine. No matter what.

“Hey, guys,” Bailey said, poking her head through the doorway. “Mom wanted me to tell you dinner is ready.”

“Good, because I’m starved,” Nathan said, walking out the door.

“Me, too,” Dad said, following after him. “Seriously, munchkin, the room looks great.”

Bailey walked inside and looked around the room. “These paintings are weird.”

“I know,” I said. “But I like them.”

She smiled at me. “I’m glad you’re not leaving yet.”

“Thanks,” I said, walking into the hallway and down the stairs with her. “I’m glad, too.”





31


“All right,” Harrison said, stepping away from the fire. “Let’s burn those little bitches.”

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said, handing him the pair of flip-flops I’d been wearing the night we met. “It’s not like I’ve worn them since you told me they sucked.”

“It’s meant to be more of a symbolic thing than a prevention technique,” he said, tossing the first shoe on the flames.

It was the next Thursday, the night before I was supposed to go back to Indiana. Harrison and I had taken Bailey shopping for clothes that morning. We’d spent hours at the mall in Oak Hill, letting her try on everything she wanted.

“You’re going to knock ’em dead at school on Monday,” Harrison told her in the checkout line. “The kids at Hamilton High won’t know what hit them.”

When we dropped her off at the house, we picked up Nathan and headed out to Harrison’s. He’d asked the two of us to sleep over. He’d invited Bailey, too, but she had an all-day cheer camp—a program to prep the new freshman cheerleaders—the next day. But Nathan and I said yes. It would be one last hurrah before I went back to Mom’s and Harrison left for California. And he’d asked me to bring “those goddamn flip-flops.”

Apparently, we were having a ceremonial burning.

Once he’d thrown the second shoe into the fire, he took a seat in the grass beside me. Nathan knelt a few feet away, fooling with the ancient cordless radio Harrison had dragged out to his backyard for us.

“So, when do you two move into your dorms?” Harrison asked.

“Monday,” I said. “The same day Bailey starts high school.”

“Who’s taking you?”

“My mom.”

“What about you, Nathan?”

“Mom and Greg,” he said. “Aunt Sherri’s taking Bailey to school.”

“Uh-oh,” Harrison said, looking at me. “Both your parents on campus? Think they’ll run into each other?”

“Maybe.”

I hadn’t talked to Mom yet. Not since the fight where I’d called her self-absorbed. But Dad promised me that we’d both sit down with her tomorrow, when he took me back to Indiana. Yes, it was going to be awkward and uncomfortable, but it had been six years since the divorce. It was about time we worked things out. And we were going to do it together.

“So, have you figured out a major yet?” he asked. “Is it Russian? Please pick Russian.”

I shook my head. “Nope. Still haven’t picked.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I think I’ll just be undeclared for a while,” I said. “I’ll take a class in everything that sounds interesting. Figure out what makes me happy. Even if I waste a year or two and have to stay in school longer, I think it’ll be worth it to find something I love.”

“But you’re going to take Russian, right?” he asked. “Just one class.”

I laughed. “We’ll see.”

“When do you start classes, Harrison?” Nathan asked.

“Week from Monday,” he said. “Mom and I are flying out to L.A. the Friday before to check out the area. I think she’s more excited than I am. Speaking of which”—he got to his feet—“I’d better go tell her good night, or she’ll be out here in half an hour doing her best to embarrass me. Be right back.”

I watched him run up to his back door, smiling to myself. I’d been so resistant to having a best friend again, but Harrison had forced himself into my life. I was going to miss him so much. But we’d call and text and maybe, if he talked me into it, I’d even get on Facebook. One thing was for sure—I wasn’t going to let Harrison go easy. And I hoped he wouldn’t let me go, either.

“Finally,” Nathan said as he located a radio station that played clearly. He scooted over to sit next to me. We were both in shorts, and my bare knee leaned against his as we watched the last shreds of my flip-flops being devoured by the flames, stinking up the delicious smell of the wood fire with burning rubber. “So,” he said. “Are you ready to go home tomorrow?”