Twelve Steps to Normal(9)

It doesn’t take long for Lin to arrive, and when she does I seek haven in her air-conditioned Explorer. It’s her mom’s car, but Lin’s allowed to borrow it if her mom doesn’t need to run errands.

Lin squeals and launches over the armrest to pull me into a hug. I squeeze back, swelling with happiness. Her straight black hair is a few inches shorter than the last time I saw her, and she’s wearing the same deep-purple cat-eye frames that she’s worn for ages. She also has on a blouse that’s patterned with daisies. For as long as I’ve known her, she’s loved wearing anything with a fun pattern. Her lips are slathered in a sassy shade of pink lipstick and her eyes are lined in heavily winged eyeliner. I remember how strict Mr. Pham used to be about her makeup, but I wonder if that’s changed since I’ve been gone.

“I’m so glad you texted!” She pulls back onto the road. “What happened to your car?”

“My dad won’t let me drive until I get my Texas license,” I say. It’s part of the truth, anyway. “How have you been? And everyone else? I feel like I’m so behind.”

Lin’s smile fades a little. “Uh, well, same I guess. Raegan is President of Leadership Council this year—oh, but you probably knew that. She posts, like, a zillion status updates about it. But I’m still a part of Academic Decathlon and Earth Club. Oh, and the dance team is getting new uniforms this year—at least that’s what Whitney and Raegan told me.”

I nod along, but something feels off. Lin nervously flicks her gaze over at me every few seconds like I’m a chemistry experiment and she’s studying me for a reaction. It feels awkward. I don’t want it to feel awkward. WHY does it feel awkward?

“What about you?” she continues. “How was Portland?”

“Lonely,” I admit. “I made one friend the entire time I was there. It wasn’t home, you know?”

“Yeah.” Lin has lived here her whole life, too. We’ve never found Cedarville’s small town constraining. “How’s your dad? Is it weird being home with him?”

Weird is an understatement. The current state of my living environment is borderline bizarre. For half a second, my brain wants to spit out the truth. I want to tell Lin how Saylor stole my car and about Nonnie’s funky cat slippers and how Peach’s personality is like a creampuff, sickly sweet. I wish I could tell her how strange it is having a dad who’s acting like, well, an actual dad.

But I don’t.

“Yeah,” I say instead. “It’s weird.”

Lin adjusts the collar of her daisy-covered blouse, suddenly growing quiet. I can tell something else is on her mind. Or is it me? Maybe I should have texted her sooner. I guess I expected things would naturally pick up where they left off.

When she pulls into the parking lot, I’m relieved to see a sea of people I know. Familiar faces! Recognizable territory! I never thought I would be so happy to see the plain brick walls of this school again.

Lin parks, but she doesn’t get out right away. “Um,” she starts, her voice hesitant. “Before we go in… there’s something you should know.”

Lin is suddenly serious. Lin is never serious. Well, except when she’s running through her decathlon flashcards. I wonder if she’s worried that I won’t be in National Honor Society with her. I’m pretty confident I can bring my grades up this year. That’s the plan, anyway. Or maybe she thinks I won’t be rejoining Earth Club? But that’s ridiculous. We had tons of fun freshman year.

“What is it?” I finally ask.

“Whitney… kindofstarteddatingJay.”

She says this all in a rush, like ripping off a Band-Aid. I feel my jaw go slack. No. I can’t have heard her right. My hearing must be temporarily impaired from Queen’s greatest hits blasting through the hall this morning.

I stare at her. Her expression hasn’t changed.

“She—what?”

Lin turns off the Explorer, but she doesn’t look at me when she repeats it. “She started dating Jay.”

My heart sinks like a brick in a bathtub. That absolutely cannot be right. Whitney used to make fun of Jay’s buck teeth in sixth grade, and then she made fun of the crush I developed on him freshman year. It seemed like she only approved of him because he made the basketball team. But, to be fair, this did put him on the radar for a lot of girls at school.

That’s why I know she would never in a million years date Jay. I mean, he’s my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. But still. Isn’t that girl code or something?

“How did—wow.” I shake my head. I’m pissed. Did they not think I was ever going to come back? “I can’t believe she’d do that.”

“Well,” I catch the defense in her voice, “I mean, you did break up with him. Before you left and all.”

There’s hurt in her words, as if I moved to Portland and left everyone behind because it was my choice.

“I never wanted to break up with him. What was I supposed to do? Make it long distance?” She knows how I felt about that. Even she agreed it wouldn’t work. “I didn’t know when I was coming back.”

“So you can’t really be surprised that he moved on,” she argues.

My stomach feels like it’s been drenched in battery acid. I understand her point, but I didn’t expect it to hurt this much.