What Happens Now(10)

“My problems,” I said.

“What?” asked Mom.

“You said my problems. Call it depression, Mom. It’s not like pneumonia or Lyme disease, the stuff you help people with. You don’t have a case of it, then get cured.”

It haunts you, I wanted to add. Like a ghost that refuses to move out of the only house it’s ever known.

Silence. Mom sank down onto the bench and said, “I know about depression, Ari.” Her voice was heavy and even, laced thick with extra meaning. I knew she knew. I’d been there when she went through it, but we never talked about that.

“I’m sorry,” I said to her. Or to myself. Or to the wood on the bench beneath me, where someone had pen-carved I love u JP u so HOT.

“I just need things to go smoothly this summer,” said Mom. “My job, you know. I love it. But it’s tough, Ari. Really tough. What makes it easier is knowing I can count on you.”

“You can,” I said, and meant it. I couldn’t not mean it.

“Also, I like the idea of you working with Richard. So he can . . .”

“Keep an eye on me?”

“I was going to say support you. If you need it.”

I didn’t plan on needing it, but I was glad she was thinking about what I might need.

“So we’re okay?” Mom pressed. “The store, like we all planned?”

It wasn’t worth it. The fight, the resentment, the lingering anger all summer. I’d been stupid to think there was a flicker of a shadow of hope.

“Yes,” I said.

“Here,” said Dani, holding up the kids’ menu. “I gave Shelly a blue mohawk this time. I want you to have it.”

I took the drawing from her and rumpled her hair. “Thanks, baby. He looks badass. I love it.”

I stood up and put one boot in front of the other. Mom reached for the door to go back inside and held it open for us.

“Don’t say ‘badass’ around Dani,” she whispered to me as I walked by.

On the second floor of Seamus Fitzpatrick Memorial High School, there was an alcove. Unremarkable, to be honest, with its regulation water fountain and bulletin board. Most people walked by it two, three, maybe four times a day. But Kendall and I used it for rushed, heated mini-conferences between classes. We’d trade gossip or the guilty pleasure of a joke at some kid’s expense, but only because one of us really, really needed the laugh. Like when Kendall had to regroup after finding out she’d gotten a low grade or didn’t understand a class lecture.

It was our place. Even though we hadn’t been there for a while, this hadn’t changed.

Kendall texted me on the Tuesday after the long weekend.

Meet me at the alcove before English.

I went gladly and arrived first.

“So,” she said, walking up to me, hugging her copy of The Scarlet Letter. “It’s taken you a full year to exchange more sentences with Camden Armstrong in a humiliating restroom mix-up. What’s next?”

I bit my lip hard, trying to figure out which of eight different ways to begin. “This sounds crazy, but I think I could actually talk to him now.”

“That’s how to spin it! See it as an icebreaker, not a tragedy.”

“For all I know, he’s with someone. Maybe Eliza, still.”

Kendall smiled her old smile for me. “Even if he is, that doesn’t mean you can’t get to know him.” Now she grew serious. “Life is short. Summers are even shorter. We’re going to be seniors in a couple of weeks. Don’t you think it’s time to start doing whatever the hell we want to?”

Kendall had earned the right to say that, I knew. My friend was smart and insightful and creative—her newspaper essays and personality pieces were legendary—but distracted and disorganized when it came to actual schoolwork. She was fun and drop-dead witty, a girl who held her own against three older brothers, but for some reason got quiet and awkward around guys. This meant she hadn’t yet secured the boyfriend she so desperately wanted. I could tell she was fed up with wanting.

I glanced sideways to the river of students rushing past, glimpsed the top of a dark, shaggy head moving toward us. Something stirred on the back of my neck even though of course, of course, Camden would not be in my school. It was just some kid with a vaguely similar non-haircut, a sophomore who suddenly seemed much more attractive than he used to be.

“It’s not that easy for me,” I finally said to Kendall, hoping she would get it. I was not going to be making ice-cream cones for everyone in town or collecting multicolored golf balls out of a fake pond. I would have very little time where I wasn’t being relied upon by a family member. She could do whatever the hell she wanted to, but I could not.

Kendall spotted something over my shoulder and made a cringe-y face. I turned to see, and there was Lukas coming down the hall, walking with his friend Brady.

“Ugh,” muttered Kendall, which really said it all for both of us.

Brady stopped and said, “Hi, guys.”

Lukas grabbed him by the shirt and yanked, shaking his head. It didn’t seem malicious. It was more like, I’m not prepared to do this right now.

Kendall asked, “What’s up?”

I stared at a suddenly riveting spot on the wall.

“Too much and not enough,” said Brady, grinning with newly braceless teeth. Kendall had always liked Brady. There had been talk of a double date, when Lukas and I were together. They both had last names as first names, so why not give it a try?