Opposite of Always(43)

“Uh, studying,” I say, quickly pausing Rampage III and tossing my controller onto the cushion beside me. “Why? What’s up?”

“I was hoping to talk to you.”

“I’m listening.”

“I mean, like, where I can see your face and you can see mine.”

“You mean FaceTime,” I say, laughing.

Only she barely laughs back. “Seriously. Like I need to see you in person.”

“Oh,” I say, wondering what’s wrong. Why suddenly things are so urgent. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, almost too quickly.

“Positive?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, so when were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I have a paper due in the morning that I haven’t started yet. And I’m supposed to go with my sister to some awards thing tonight, that she won’t let me back out of despite my best attempts. I was hoping tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” I repeat, already knowing that tomorrow isn’t likely to work. That I can’t double-book when I just promised Franny I’d be at his place. When Franny needs me.

But what if Kate wants to see me to tell me that she’s sick— What if this is the moment I discover why I’m back here?

How can I risk missing that?

I can’t.

I have to do both.

Kate clears her throat. “If that doesn’t work, I don’t know, we can figure something else out.”

“Well, what time were you thinking?”

“Any time. You tell me.”

“Ummmm . . .”

Because I have school all day. And there’s the travel time between here and Whittier to consider. But if I skipped last period, and managed to avoid any traffic, maybe I can be at both places, do both things. Be there for Franny and Kate. Which would be the best-case scenario. Win-win all around. And I know—maybe Kate would understand if I told her I couldn’t make it, that I already had noncancelable plans. It’s just that, well, this second time around—which is still hard to comprehend, that I have a second shot—I don’t want to waste a fraction of a second. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nothing’s promised. That you have to treat second chances like an endangered species.

“Really, Jack, if it’s too much . . .”

“No, no, I’ll be there. Tomorrow afternoon.”

“You’re sure?”

“Couldn’t be surer.”

School is slow AF today. And tenth period can’t come fast enough. I’ve already devised my exit strategy. All day I’ve been going out of my way to establish an emerging bout of stomach flu: Asking for multiple bathroom visits.

Practically running out of each class in that hunched-over way you move when your stomach’s churning.

A trip to the school nurse, who, after a quick consultation with my mom, doused me with antacids and fluids.

I even make sure to excuse myself from fifth-period study hall, which not so incidentally is the study hall overseen by Mrs. Randleman, who is also my AP History teacher.

“You don’t look so well, Jack,” Mrs. Randleman says, watching me rub my stomach counterclockwise, my body slightly compressed and forward-leaning, as if at any moment I might explode from all my orifices.

“I’m okay, Mrs. R. Thanks for your concern. My stomach is just . . . well, it’s not quite itself today.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Randleman says, handing me a bathroom pass. “Maybe you should go home. Get some rest. The flu’s going around right now.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I agree. “But wait, what about our history exam?”

Mrs. Randleman nods her head, as if she’s taking this situation under serious advisement. “Well, I suppose you could always make it up Friday. I have to be here for detention after school, anyway, so I guess . . .”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, Mrs. R. You’re the best,” I say.

“Be careful, Jack. I don’t do well with vomit. If you throw up, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Right,” I say. “Sorry, ma’am. So very sorry!”

And okay, does a part of me feel bad for deceiving poor ol’ innocent Mrs. Randleman? Absolutely.

But I’m still taking the test. And now I get to be there for my girl and Franny. How is that not a fair trade?





Quickie Mart Quicksand


I kiss Kate goodbye. Again and again and again. I can’t stop kissing her goodbye.

She laughs, brings her lips to my cheek, and opens the car door for me. “You better get out of here, Jack Attack. Franny’s waiting for you.”

“Right,” I say. But I don’t want to leave her. I want to keep feeling her lips on mine at nearly any cost.

But she’s right. I need to hit the highway ASAP.

“I hope it was worth it,” she says. “You coming all the way out here? I hope you really like it,” she adds, pointing to the box on the passenger seat.

I lean in. Kiss her again. “You’re worth way more,” I say. “And I love it, Kate. I do.” And her face lights up in a way that I’d do anything to duplicate.

“You better go,” she says.