None of the Above(66)

She held out an éclair for each of us. I closed my eyes as I bit down, savoring the delicate explosion of flavor. “Wow,” I said. “It’s like edible aromatherapy.”

“And that’s a good thing?” she asked anxiously.

My mouth was too full of éclair to answer so I nodded instead. “Mmm hmmm.”

Ms. Kowalski beamed. “Here, try one of the rosewater ones.”

“Can I help you fill them? It’s the least I can do.” I reached for the other icing bag and plopped myself down by a tray of shells.

“Kristin,” Ms. Kowalski protested, “I’m sure this isn’t how you want to spend your Saturday night.”

“Actually, I can’t think of a place I’d rather be.” Aware of how cheesy I sounded, I didn’t dare look over at Darren. But I heard a metallic screech as he pulled over a chair, picked up a pastry brush, and began putting a chocolate coat on my finished éclairs.

After a couple of minutes, the baby monitor went off. “Oh, dear,” Ms. Kowalski said. “Wendy’s in the shower. I’ll be back in a bit.”


“Okay, now’s your time to jet,” Darren whispered as his mother’s footsteps faded. “You’ve paid your dues. éclair points earned. I’ll tell my mom your dad called or something.”

“No need for excuses.” I smiled as I filled another shell. “It’s kind of soothing.” There was a rhythm to baking, a surety of repetition that was as satisfying as running. The brightly lit kitchen and fantastic smells were just what I needed after a roller-coaster night.

Then it occurred to me. “Unless you want me to leave.” I put down the icing bag and slid off my chair.

“No, of course not!” Darren reached out to stop me, but only managed to paint my arm with chocolate. He swore, and ran to get a wet washcloth.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” I said. I ran my finger across the offending chocolate and licked it off. “See? All better. Getting messy never tasted so good.”

Darren sighed, but he was smiling. “My mother is such a bad influence. Let me at least get the sugar off so you don’t get all sticky.” He took my hand in his and gently wiped down my arm. My skin tingled.

We were so close I could hear Darren’s tiny gasp as my fingers tightened around his. A strand of unruly hair fell out from behind his ear and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to tuck it back. Outside, a motorcycle zoomed by, setting off a chorus of dog barks.

We both stared down at our clasped hands.

“Kristin,” he said quietly.

Darren’s cell phone went off, shrill and jarring, breaking the spell. He pulled his hand from mine as he reached for the phone, and when he saw the caller ID he turned around so his back was to me.

“Hey, babe,” he answered.

I picked up the icing bag again, pretending not to eavesdrop. But of course I heard every word.

“Yup, I got home okay.” Was it me, or did Darren’s voice sound just a little too casual? He was silent for a while as Becky monologued, nodding his head once.

“Yeah, I remember him. . . . Okay. . . . I’ll check it out.”

After what seemed like forever, he finally wrapped things up. “Well, thanks for calling, babe. I gotta go. My mom needs my help with some last-minute catering stuff. See you on Monday?

“That was Becky,” he said unnecessarily after he hung up. He didn’t look me in the eye.

“Yeah, kind of figured,” I said. I could still feel the echo of his hand on mine.

“She was telling me about her uncle who went to Cornell and loved it,” he said with an eyeroll.

“Oh,” I said. I filled the last éclair, and set it carefully on Ms. Kowalski’s lacquered tray. I stood and picked up my keys. “Well, that’s the last of the lavender batch. Tell your mom thank you again?”

Darren gave me a halfhearted grin. “You already know what she’ll say: anytime.”

“You guys are too awesome,” I said.

And I meant it so intensely that it hurt.





CHAPTER 40


The next morning, it was clear that Faith was ready for the Three Musketeers to be back together again.

Faith: So. U want V and me to pick U up 2morow?

Me: No not quite ready

Faith: Srsly?

Me: Im almost there

Faith: Okay fine. But gonna keep bugging you.

She wasn’t the only one breathing down my neck. That afternoon, Ms. Diaz called to “check in,” reminding me that I only had a week’s leave of absence left.

“It’s really close to the end of the semester. Wouldn’t it make sense to have a fresh start at the beginning of the year?” I asked. That’d give me until after winter break to pull things together.

“Well, the district has strict criteria for extended leaves. We’ll have to get some paperwork from your physicians, and you’ll need to be evaluated every two weeks.”

I hated the idea of another visit to Dr. Cheng’s office. After I got off the phone with Ms. Diaz, I paced around my room, then lay down on my bed. I pretended I was in the middle of a track field, and imagined Coach Auerbach’s voice leading me through her visualization exercise: