I had to do better.
Nora: London, Grace, I’m in the parking lot. Please come talk to me.
And then I waited, but even though the texts had been marked as seen, neither of them replied.
Nora: Please. I’ll wait out here as long as it takes.
They made me wait. I scrolled through social media, flipped through my assigned reading, texted Emerick the color of my dress and asked where he’d want to eat before prom, said a prayer the girls who’d been my best friends since third grade would find it in their hearts to come and talk to me.
A knock sounded on the passenger window, and I jumped. There was London in her workout clothes, and Grace stood right beside her.
I hurried to press the unlock button. London got in on the passenger side, and Grace sat in the back seat.
Cue the most awkward silence ever.
Sure, I’d thought about what to say, but none of it sounded right with both of them looking at me, not just mad, but hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I tried.
London folded her arms over her chest and looked out the window, but Grace looked right at me. “Why couldn’t you just talk to us?”
I looked down. “I just didn’t want to be Nora Wilson for a while. With Adam, it was like I could be honest without worrying about what it would do to my reputation.” My throat burned, and I swallowed.
London sighed, still looking out the window. “You don’t always have to be the rock, you know. Sometimes it’s okay to let people see that you’re actually struggling with something.”
Her words echoed my mom’s so much it tore me apart. “Well, you want to know what’s going on? My dad’s cheating on my mom, and she knows it. I’m going to OU because I have to, not because I want to stay in Oklahoma. And, yeah, I love my sisters, but sometimes I just want to be their big sister, not their second mom.” Fresh tears stung my eyes, and London turned to look at me, but I had to keep going. “And I miss my friends. I was the biggest idiot ever not to talk to you guys about what was going on. I think I just wanted someone to still see me as perfect, even when everything was falling apart.”
London’s big eyes filled with concern. “No one’s perfect, babe. Especially in high school.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “You’re an amazing cheerleader, going to a division one college in the fall. Grace is going to China to teach English to actual orphans this summer, and here I am, falling apart.”
London put her hand on my knee, and Grace put her hand on my shoulder, holding me together.
Grace rubbed her hand in a circle. “We’re here for you, no matter what.”
London nodded. “And trust me, no one’s perfect. You know my little brother just came out of the closet? My mom cried for a month.”
“Yeah,” Grace said. “And I’m going to prom with Fabio. As friends. Again. I think he felt sorry for me.”
I laughed through my tears. “You guys have gone to every prom together.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “That’s one for the yearbook. Grace went to every single prom with her best guy friend. Never had a boyfriend.”
I smiled at her. “Maybe you’ll meet some humanitarian hottie this summer.”
She shrugged and looked between London and me. “No more secrets, okay?”
We both smiled and said “okay” at the same time.
For a moment, we sat there in a three-way hug that made me feel like things were finally back in place.
“But if we’re not keeping any more secrets,” I said and paused. “I’m going to prom with Emerick Turner.”
Their eyes went wide, and London broke out into a grin. “He’s going to be way more fun than Trey was.”
I smiled. “I’m counting on it.”
“Did you hear about Trey?” Grace asked.
I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him in school since...well, you know.”
Grace nodded. “So he got suspended from the basketball team, he’s not the editor or vice president anymore, and the only reason he was able to come back to school is because his parents donated back all the money he cost the paper. They’re starting the paper up again next week, but cancelling the advice column.”
“How haven’t I heard any of this?” I asked.
London shrugged. “I just found out after school today.”
My stomach twisted. The paper was back. Without Adam. I took in a deep breath. There was one more thing I needed to do.
London, Grace, and I sat and talked about prom and life and things we’d missed until I had to go pick up Amie. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like everything was fine. Well, almost.
At home, I went up to my room and sat at my desk in front of my computer, and I wrote a letter to Adam. And just like the rest of our letters, this one had to go public.
Twenty-One
Emerick
The loud speakers clicked on. “Will Emerick Turner please go to Mrs. Arthur’s office?”
I glanced over at Wolf. Seriously?
“What’d you do?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes and unlocked my chair. “Nothing.”
His eyes glinted. “Yeah, sure.”
I left our class and wheeled to Mrs. Arthur’s office. The only thing I was happy about was that there would be one less functioning bobblehead in there, thanks to Nora. My prom date.
I still couldn’t believe that. First, that I was going to prom at all. Second, that my date would be the student body president, perfect white girl Nora Wilson. Dads warned girls like her against guys like me.
I reached Mrs. Arthur’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
Principal Scott waited inside with her. Honestly, I was starting to wonder why they didn’t use his office more often. At least I wouldn’t have to have all these dumb figurines nodding at me. But whatever.
“What’s up?” I asked, stopping in front of her desk.
She held up this week’s paper. “Have you read this?”
“Not yet.” Honestly? I hardly read it even when I’d actually written for it. Now that I was getting about a rejection letter a day from newspapers, it was hard to read the things without having hard feelings.
She flipped it open and slid it across the desk to me. “I think you should read the letter to the editor.”
I looked between her and Principal Scott. “You called me in here to read the paper?”
She smiled. “Just read it.”
So I scanned the headline.
Student sings praises for Dear Adam
For the last two months, I’ve written many emails to our advice columnist, Adam, and for the same amount of time, he’s written back. He didn’t have to, I told him so right from the beginning, but he took his personal time to help me, a friend. For that, I am supremely grateful.
Not only was the issue of the paper sharing our personal emails humiliating, it was also cruel. Those private emails didn’t just hurt me, they risked Adam’s anonymity, and they hurt people I love deeply. But that’s not what this letter is about.
Losing Dear Adam is a tragedy to this school. See, when I first found out about all of my private life being made public, I only thought of myself. But someone close to me reminded me that everyone struggles. Everyone in this school is going through something, whether you’re a brand-new freshman or the student body president. We need Adam and his column so we’ll never forget that.
Adam, thank you for everything you’ve done for me, as an advice columnist and as a friend. Thank you for being a great listener, a great confidant, and thank you for all the services you’ve done for this school.
Sincerely,
Nora Wilson aka ThePerfectStranger
My throat got tight, and I swallowed. I pretended to read for longer so I could compose my expression, but finally I dropped the paper on the desk.
Mrs. Arthur met my eyes. “Emerick, if you’re willing, we’d like to have you back for the rest of the year.”
This couldn’t be real. For the last two weeks, I hadn’t just missed Nora’s emails. I’d missed the column. Yeah, at first the column was just about graduating school, but it’d become so much more than that.
I looked at Principal Scott. “Really?”
He cracked a rare smile. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
I broke out in a grin. “That’s a yes.”
Mrs. Arthur slid a piece of paper toward me. “This is the new password.” She glanced at Principal Scott. “And there’s one other thing we talked about.”
My stomach sank. Here was the catch.
“The anonymity clause,” she said. “We’ve decided there might be an exception. With Nora. We think she deserves to know who she’s been talking to, but it’s completely up to you.”
I glanced down at my hands. The column. Nora. It was a lot.
“Was that all?” I asked.
Mrs. Arthur nodded. “Yes. You can go back to class.”
Before I went into English, I logged into the Dear Adam email account on my phone. There were so many messages that would take time to go through, but my eyes landed on the most recent one.
From: Nora Wilson
To: ADAM
Dear Adam,
Please check the letter to the editor on Friday. I meant every single word.
I understand now why we couldn’t meet, but I hope someday I’ll be able to look you in the eye and tell you how thankful I am.
Nora
If only she knew how many times she’d looked me in the eyes.
I couldn’t talk to anyone about whether to tell Nora or not. Well, except Nora. And that would kind of defeat the purpose.
So, I wrestled with it, one moment wanting to tell her in class, the next thinking Adam should stay a secret forever. But finally, I decided. If prom went well, I would tell her. If not, well, I would leave our relationship in cyberspace, where it belonged.
But with the amount of shit girls needed for prom, there was about a seventy percent chance the night wouldn’t go in my favor. Maybe. Between the flowers and the suit and the meal and transportation, I had to ask Aunt Linda for help, and I still wasn’t sure I had it all. For ThePerfectStranger—Nora—it was worth all the trouble.
I sat in the living room with my entire family—Mom, Uncle Ken, Aunt Linda, Janie and the boys, and Wolf, who wasn’t related but still wanted in on the freak show.
“Janie,” Ma said, waving a disposable camera, “go take a picture with Rick.”
Janie came to sit next to me on the couch, and I pulled her onto my lap so we’d be on the same level.
She pressed her cheek to mine and made the cheesiest grin. After a few flashes, I set her down.
“When can we meet your girl?” Janie asked.
“Yeah,” Wolf said. “You gonna bring her over?”
I glanced around the living room. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the mansion Nora lived in with her family. If this was going to go anywhere, she’d have to see it all. Besides, it wasn’t like I was ever going to be some rich guy. You know, print journalism and all. And I hoped she was the kind of girl who would see past all of that.
Hadn’t she already by saying yes?
“You can meet her soon,” I said.
Janie jumped up and down.
A horn sounded outside.
Ma looked at me. “That your ride?”
I scooted sideways on the couch and looked through the blinds. A big, black limo waited by the curb, looking more out of place in this neighborhood than I did in Nora’s. “It’s the group’s, yeah,” I said.
Nora’s dad had rented it for the night. And it was about to take me to her house, to meet her family.
“One more picture with everyone,” Ma said.
I smiled. “Sure.” This was a first for all of us.
Wolf stood on the other couch, ignoring Aunt Linda’s scowl, held out his phone, and took a selfie of our whole crazy crew.
Wolf stuck out his hand. “Go get your girl.”
I slapped his hand and drug my fingers back. “You know it.”
And then I hopped to the door, sat in my wheelchair, and rolled down the sidewalk. The driver helped me into the massive back seat and left me there, terrified to see Nora, and scared as hell to meet her dad.
On the drive across town, I stared out the tinted windows, watching the houses go from small to normal to massive. My heart pounded. This was the night. I realized I wanted to tell her about it all, to finally come out as Adam to the one person who’d seen me for me. But I had to do this first.
The limo came to a stop in her driveway, and I hopped out before the driver could open the door for me. That would just be weird. Besides, he already had to get my wheelchair out of the trunk.
And then I wheeled up the perfectly clean, not-cracked sidewalk to her front door. Before I could knock, a little girl had it pulled open. She looked a little bit older than Janie, and her smile instantly calmed my nerves. “Emerick?”
I nodded.
She swung the door open to the living room, and I saw Nora’s little sister first. Amie.
She folded her arms across her chest and looked me up and down. “You look way better without the leather jacket.”
I wheeled myself in farther and saw her dad’s nervous look. “Leather jacket?”
I shrugged and stuck out my hand. That’s what white kids did on dates, right?
It must have been good enough because Nora’s dad stuck his hand out and shook mine. He had this presidential smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Nice to meet you, Emerick. Nora will be down in a second. You can come sit in the living room with us.”
I pushed myself to a spot between two chairs and felt like I was sitting in a fishbowl. Four girls, including Nora’s mom, stared at me, along with Nora’s dad.
Nora’s mom had a smile like Nora, though. Warm. “Would you like a cookie?” she asked, gesturing at a plateful on the coffee table.
Man, I was out of my league. “Sure,” I said.
But I shouldn’t have, because when Nora walked down the stairs looking like a freaking goddess, my mouth fell open, dropping crumps into my lap.
Smooth move, Emerick.
I swallowed and brushed them off. “You look...”
“Beautiful,” her dad finished.
Nora’s mom went to hug her, and the two looked almost like they could be sisters, not mother and daughter.
After I slipped the corsage on her wrist, they took pictures of Nora, pictures of Nora with her sisters, pictures of Nora and her parents. With all the pictures not including me, I was starting to wonder if I was a fly in their white ointment family. But I shook that thought. Thinking that way never got me—or my dad—anywhere. Not anywhere good.
Nora gave me a pained look, then slid out from under her dad’s arm. “Am I going to get any pictures with my actual date?”
Her mom laughed. “Sorry, Emerick, five girls means lots of photo ops.”
I grinned. “I’m just happy to get in on one.” But I didn’t want to be sitting in a chair for this. I hopped to stand on one leg, and Nora let me put my arm around her waist. Her tiny waist that curved under smooth silk...
Dude, chill. Her parents are around.
I grinned for a picture or twenty, and finally, her mom reminded us that there was a limo waiting in the driveway.
“Ugh,” Amie said, “I wish I could go.”
Her dad looked at her. “No dating until you’re sixteen. You know the rule.”
Amie dropped onto the chair, looking pissed, but her dad ignored her. “Let me wheel you out, Emerick.”
I tried to protest, but he wasn’t having any of it. He pushed me out the door behind Nora, who looked even better walking away in those heels that clacked on the sidewalk. Her dress revealed almost her entire back, and the only thing that kept me from imagining touching the soft skin of her shoulders was her dad’s breath hitting the back of my neck.
Awkward.
The driver let Nora i
nto the car, and she gave me a final smile before getting in. In just a few seconds, it would be her and me alone in this massive back seat. It was every guy’s dream come true, but for whatever reason, it was happening to me. Was I ready?
Her dad wheeled me to the trunk, and I started to get out of my chair, but he put a hand on my shoulder. Keeping his voice low, he said, “You treat her right, you hear me?”
The threat in his voice came across clear, even if he didn’t actually say anything menacing. Everything in me wanted to rebel against her dad. Basically the definition of The Man stood over me, his hand on my shoulder. What the hell did he think I could do that was worse than what he was doing to his own wife?
But this was Nora, and he was her dad, and I nodded.
He came in front of me. “You know, I don’t trust that you know what that means.”
I lifted an eyebrow. I might be in a cast, but I had to outweigh him by at least forty pounds. Try me, old man.
He held up his hand and started counting off. “No sexual touching, no hotel rooms, no leaving the prom before it’s over, no leaving with any other girl, you got me?”
“You forgot the most important one,” I said and got up from my chair, so I could look him in the eyes.
“And what would that be?” he asked.
I nodded my head toward the back of the limo. “Don’t break her heart.”
He eyed me for a moment, but his features seemed to relax, even if slightly. “That’s right, now get in the car.” He folded up the wheelchair and put it in the trunk, and I went to the back door.
I opened it and looked in to a hell of a sight. Nora, leaning back on leather in her soft pink dress that brought out the color in her creamy skin. God, just seeing her had turned me into a romance novel narrator. But surprisingly, I didn’t mind. Not one bit.
Dear Adam (The Pen Pal Romance Series) Page 13