The Fragile Ordinary(98)

Yet, somehow, ever since I’d caved to their questions and confessed to my best friends what I’d said to Tobias to make him storm out of class, Steph had grown seriously invested in Tobias and me.

Too little too late, since I was determined to move on.

“That’s every day this week,” Vicki said, giving me this pointed look.

“What?”

“That’s he’s looked over here. And I keep catching him looking at you in English when he thinks you’re not looking.”

A flutter in my belly told me I was not immune to the idea that Tobias was looking at me again. But looking was an entirely different creature to speaking. “Look, guys, I know you think you’re being helpful but I’m trying to get over him. Okay?”

My friends shared a look that said they didn’t believe me.

Affronted, I dropped my burger. When I dropped food they knew I meant business. “Did I not tell you what I said to him? That was one of the most important confrontations of my life. Don’t pretend like I’m not trying here.”

“Are you trying, though?” Vicki tilted her head to the side like a curious bird. “Really?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that tomorrow night is the Youth of Today poetry evening at Pan and a few weeks ago you told me you were going to get up on that stage and read one of your poems. Suddenly, since Tobias broke up with you, that’s no longer happening.”

I scowled at her. The reason it was no longer happening was because I’d been planning to do it as a grand gesture to Tobias and reading a poem aloud about him. I said as much to her.

That didn’t shut her up like I thought it would. “Wait a minute. I thought this whole moving on from Tobias thing was so that you could feel like you weren’t a wallowing, self-pitying, codependent Carrie-wannabe? So why are you using him as an excuse not to do something for yourself?”

“Ugh,” I huffed. “I hate when you make sense.” I really, really hated it.

Vicki grinned, smug. “Good. We’re agreed. You’re getting on that stage tomorrow night.”

“I don’t know what to read, though.” I hadn’t written anything uplifting in a while.

Steph shrugged. “The Tobias poem. Just because things aren’t the same between you now doesn’t make the poem any less true than it was when you wrote it.”

“Says she who hasn’t read the poem,” Vicki said.

“No, but she’s right.” I nodded, somewhat surprised by Steph’s wise comment. “The poem is still true.” Resolve coursed through me. “I’ll read it.”

“Good. Because he’s looking again.”

“Is Jess Reed sitting there?” It slipped out before I could stop it.

“No,” Steph scoffed. “He’s not into her. Hopefully she gets that now.”

“Why is he looking?” I grumbled. I didn’t need false hope!

“Maybe he wants to come over but he doesn’t know what to say,” Vicki suggested. “Maybe he thinks you won’t want to talk to him.”

“Would you want to talk to him?” Steph said.

I shrugged. “I won’t know that until he actually tries to speak to me. If. I mean if.”

“Despite what you said to him, he does love you, Comet,” Steph assured me. “I’m admittedly jealous of how much that boy loves you. He’s on his way back to you. For sure.”

“We’ll know tomorrow,” Vicki said.

“Tomorrow?”

“He knows about Pan. If he cares about you he’ll be there.”

Steph frowned. “Unless he forgot. Let’s not pin their reconciliation on tomorrow night.”

My friends argued about it while my mind drifted. The skin on my neck had been prickling all lunch period, but I didn’t know if that was only because the girls had made me paranoid that Tobias kept looking at me.

Giving in to the urge that had been tugging at me all during lunch, I glanced over my shoulder, trying to make it seem casual. As soon as I did my gaze collided with Tobias’s. My breath left me, and I wondered how it was possible he could still affect me as much as he had when we first met.

The thought scared me and I whipped back around. “Yeah,” I murmured, “let’s not pin any hopes on tomorrow.” Because it would crush me if he wasn’t there.

*

“Off somewhere?” Dad wandered out of the kitchen, his gaze drifting over me as I shrugged into my coat.

I swallowed a wave of nausea and gave him a shaky smile. “A poetry reading at Pan.”

“Is that the poetry café on Tollcross?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I didn’t know you went there.” He stared at me in question.

Ever since Carrie had left to go “traveling,” Dad had taken more and more of an interest in my whereabouts. And my life in general. Especially after I’d broken down on him, crying about my breakup with Tobias. He was trying. I couldn’t fault him for that, but I was still afraid of being deeply hurt by my parents, and I wasn’t sure I understood what was happening in their relationship.

“You’ve spoken to Carrie recently, right?”

If he was surprised by the abrupt question he didn’t show it. “She checks in.”