Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys)(56)

“Hey, um.” I keep getting distracted looking around her room for ch-ch-ch-changes, but it’s all but identical to last time I was in here. I’m happy the framed Jonestown documentary poster I bought her for her last birthday is still in its very prominent place over her desk.

“I’m glad you came over,” she says, which feels dangerously close to saying something about, uh, EVERYTHING, so I get ready to launch into my crap because, Lucy, let’s not do this. Lucy, don’t make a big deal over any of it.

“I need advice,” I say. “I had all this stuff happen, and it was bad, maybe, I don’t even know, but I have to talk to someone about it, and Reid is pissed at me and—”

“So because Reid won’t talk to you, I’m good enough to talk to again?” Lucy says it in such a sweet, calm manner I don’t even take it the way I should at first.

“I never thought you weren’t good enough to talk to,” I say, because that’s crazy. Lucy, that’s crazy! “You were the one—”

“I was the one who what?” She stares at me, very direct eye contact, and I break away because it’s horrible.

“You didn’t tell me anything,” I say.

“No,” she says. “I didn’t tell you that Nathan and I were going out. That was it. And it’s not like you’ve told me anything that’s going on with you lately.”

I guess I always knew she knew that I cut her off. So I’m not expecting to feel worse hearing it.

But my heart pounds and my stomach tightens and this is definitely worse.

“We’ve been best friends for almost ten years, Riley. I can’t believe you let a boy come between us.”

“It wasn’t like that! It’s because you never told me, and if we didn’t walk in on you guys, maybe you never would have.”

“I would have,” she says quickly. “Eventually.”

“It made me feel so bad,” I say. “Like I meant nothing to you and didn’t deserve to know anything actually important.”

“You should have just said you felt like that before,” she says. “Instead of hating me forever.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was a jerk. And I get it now. Like, sometimes you just need something to be for yourself only. And not because other people don’t deserve to know, just… stuff’s private.”

“For me it wasn’t even that!” she says. “I was just sorting out this big new thing, and I was afraid to let it out of my head. I kept imagining how I’d tell you, and you would point out the reasons it was a bad idea—and I knew all those reasons! So I thought, okay, I’ll figure out what I want to do first, and then it’ll make sense, and Riley will get it and be happy for me.”

“I’m happy for you,” I say. “Sorry it took me so freaking long.”

“Eh, don’t be now,” she says. “Nathan and I broke up. A couple of weeks ago, actually.”

“What? Why? When? Wait, you said when. Why? What? Really?”

“Really.” She doesn’t answer my other questions. I don’t blame her. I’m so annoying sometimes.

“I couldn’t even tell!” I say like I just tried I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! and can’t believe it’s not butter. “Sorry, just, I couldn’t.”

“We don’t hate each other or anything, it’s just…” She rolls her eyes. “Nathan’s kind of annoying and bossy.”

“Duh,” I say.

“Shut up, I know! He’s also really cute.”

“Duh,” I say again, and she laughs. “I’m seriously really sorry, Lucy. I’ve missed you so much.”

Her smile fades, and I wonder if I’ve finally said too much somehow.

“Hang on,” she says. She jumps up to root around on her desk, and when she turns around, something is in her hands.

The Passenger Manifest is in her hands.

THE PASSENGER MANIFEST IS IN HER HANDS.

“Here.” She sets it in my lap. “I found it in the garage after practice the other week.”

“Oh my god.” I try to think of something to say, to explain, to make this way less horrifying. “OH MY GOD.”

I hope that however she responds makes things less awkward, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Did you tell anyone?” I ask.

“No.”

I flip through the book like it’s new, and I’m reading it through Lucy’s eyes. It’s a terrible experience, so I quit pretty quickly and shove it into my bag.

“I should have told you I had it,” she says. “Right away. I’m sorry, Riley.”

I’m not expecting her to apologize. I accidentally just stare at her.

“It’s just been so long,” she continues. “I know I hurt your feelings by not telling you about Nathan, but… it was like it was so easy for you to cut me off.”


“It wasn’t easy at all.” I ram my hands into my eyes like I can hide that I’m getting a little emotional having this conversation. “It was the worst.”

“You and Reid had all these…”

I expect her to say something about what creeps we are.