Twelve Steps to Normal(71)
I want to laugh. And cry. Because she’s right. She’s so right. We’re all not as close as we used to be, but it’s not for my lack of effort.
“Do you think we’re drifting apart?”
She falls quiet for a moment. “Sometimes, yeah.”
This sends a wave of sadness through me.
“But not because we don’t care about each other,” she explains. “Just—I don’t know—maybe we have different priorities right now.”
I think back to middle school when we wouldn’t even think of spending a weekend away from each other. Shopping trips, birthday parties, movie nights, sleepovers—we always had something planned. It seems so far away now, like it’s impossible to get back to the way things used to be.
Lin links her arm through mine. “But anyway. Are you going to tell me about Alex?”
I immediately grow flustered. “I—I don’t know how it happened.”
“Oh, come on.” Lin stares at me. “Really? He’s had a crush on you for ages.”
“I know,” I blurt, then shake my head. That sounded vain. “It’s just—I haven’t treated him very well.”
I tell Lin about his text confession all those months ago, and how he was so kind when we talked yesterday. I tell her how he’s been so understanding and patient with me over the years, and how my feelings have unexpectedly started to grow stronger for him, too.
“What about Jay?” she asks.
Hearing his name used to send my heart soaring. It’s strange—not feeling anything for someone you once felt so much for. Like listening to your favorite song on repeat for too long. It loses the magic you once felt in the beginning, but it’s not terrible. You’re just indifferent toward it.
“He’s not the person I thought he was, I guess. It’s like we’re both two totally different people now. I don’t know,” I hear myself say. “I feel like I’ve moved on.”
“Wow, that’s big.”
Is it? It feels like a gradual change, not like I woke up and—bam!—my feelings were automatically gone. They trickled away like sand in an hourglass. I still care about him, but not the same way as I used to.
Lin takes another sip of her Slurpee. “Alex is a good guy.”
That’s what I’m worried about. Do I really think I deserve someone like that when I’m attempting to be the person I was eleven months ago? I’ve hurt him before. He doesn’t deserve to have that happen again.
The sidewalk is illuminated by the orangey glow of the overhanging streetlamps as we round the corner to her neighborhood. We walk in silence, arms linked, keeping each other warm from the chill. There are no crickets tonight.
When we get back to Lin’s house, we climb back through the window, laughing at ourselves. Lin swings her leg back inside, knocking a few picture frames off her nightstand. They land on the floor with a loud crash, but miraculously they don’t shatter.
I snort out a laugh as she closes the window only to hear footsteps coming down the hall.
“Crap!” Lin hisses, diving for the laptop that’s still playing music in front of the door. I shove the stash of junk food under the bed, careful not to knock over her Slurpee. We hold our breath, listening as the footsteps grow lighter as they come down the hall.
Lin lets out a breath. “I could have been so grounded.”
“But you’re not,” I say, tossing the bag of sour jelly rings in her direction.
She smiles, and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s proud of herself for getting away with it or because she enjoyed the whole excursion. I hope it’s both.
TWENTY SEVEN
I’M FINISHING UP ANOTHER TUTORING session with Ana after school on Tuesday when Alex texts me.
ALEX: are u still around? want to meet me in the workshop?
My heart swells. I fire back an okay before I even question it.
Ever since we skipped school together on Friday, I’ve been finding any excuse to talk to him. In Algebra II, I ask to borrow a pencil even though I have six sitting in the bottom on my book bag. Heat gathers in the pit of my stomach when he waves in my direction in the halls. I consider it a small victory when he texts me first, because at least that means he’s thinking of me, too.
Ana turns my notebook back toward me. “You got those last two equations right.”
I let out a small breath of relief. It’s so much easier when she breaks the steps down for me.
I begin packing up my books. “Thank you. My dad wasn’t exactly thrilled when he saw my progress report.”
Ana smiles. “I’m here anytime.”
I’m standing up, about to say good-bye, when she adds, “Your performance was great on Friday. Alex thought so, too.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, a mix of flattery and fluster. “Oh, um—thank you.”
She grabs her book bag, grinning like she knows something I don’t. “See you next week.”
I wave good-bye, but my mind is replaying what Alex said on Friday: I didn’t think my feelings were that complex. We were so out of sync back then, between Lacey, Jay, and my dad. But things are different now.
Could our timing finally be right?
I walk into the tech workshop, not surprised to see Alex is the only one working late. He’s wearing his double shirts with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms, and a few loose curls fall into his face as he reaches for a screwdriver.