She sat there for a while longer; then I felt her get up, and I opened my eyes. She shrugged. “If you say so.” She grabbed her granola bar off my dresser and said, “You don’t look good. You got dark circles under your eyes. I’m outta here. I don’t want it.”
And with that, she was gone, pulling the door shut behind her.
“Thanks, though,” I called to her back, but she didn’t hear me. I closed my eyes again, wondering how much longer I’d be able to keep this a secret. People were talking. I’d have to make a decision soon—either leave Cole or find a way to stop setting him off.
Lying there with my eyes closed felt so good, I kept them that way. And after a while I really did fall asleep, dreaming about lying curled up on Cole’s floor, my face all fat and puffy, while soup bubbled away in the kitchen, Brenda making kitten noises and dancing to lullabies, and Mom on the roof with her blazing-fire hair, cackling and dropping things off the edge to the ground below.
At some point Dad’s hand, rough and cool, pressed against my forehead, waking me up.
“Huh,” he said. “No fever.”
I stretched, catching myself at the last minute from turning onto my back, even though my neck was getting stiff from lying in one position.
“I’ll call you in for tomorrow, too,” he said. “Just in case. Here, this was on your car.” He held out a rose, wrapped in green tissue paper, a tiny sprig of baby’s breath cradling it.
Dad left the room and I sat up, pulling the note out of the flower and reading it:
Emily Dickinson, you are the love of my life. I’m sorry. Love, Cole
I buried my nose in the flower and took a deep breath.
I had to figure out how to stop making Cole so angry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The next day, Cole left another flower on my windshield, so I called him. We talked for hours. He apologized. He promised to do better. To accept my friendship with Bethany and Zack. To stop letting basketball and his parents make him so uptight. To go back to the way things were before.
He convinced me that this was just a rough patch and if we were dedicated to our relationship the way we claimed to be, we would get through it with no trouble. We would be stronger, and the time he punched me in the face would be something ugly that we were too embarrassed to ever talk about again, even to each other.
Even though deep down I didn’t believe him, I convinced myself that I did. I had to believe him. I’d already given up so much to be with him. To lose him now would make me feel as if I’d given up so much for nothing.
After two days with a “stomach flu,” I finally went back to school. It was a Friday, and I was so swamped with work and with repeatedly checking and repowdering my face, I barely had time to see Cole, much less Zack and Bethany.
But at the end of the day, when I turned the corner into the tutor lab, there was Zack sitting at the old desk he used to sit at when I tutored him before.
“Hey,” I said, my fingers automatically drifting up to my cheekbone. Then, when I remembered that I didn’t want to accidentally rub off the makeup, they fell to my necklace instead. “What’re you doing here?”
“Hey back!” he said, rolling a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other while I dumped my backpack on the table and pulled out my notebook. “Ah, she’s so busy her best friends need a reason to see her now.” He mimed holding a microphone to his mouth. “Tell me, Miss Bradford, what is it like evading the paparazzi? I saw the shower photo in Questioning Magazine, by the way. Your, uh… shower cap looked amazing. I stared at it for hours.” He mimed sticking the microphone in my face. I laughed.
“No, it’s good to see you, Zack,” I said. “It’s just that… aren’t you supposed to be with Amanda right now?”
“Well,” he said, “it turns out Amanda’s not doing so hot in her own English class. Big stink. So Moody switched us all around. Amanda gets study hall, you get me, and the Big C goes to Jackie Rentz.”
“Don’t call him that,” I murmured, opening my notebook and sitting down.
“Something wrong with your eye?” he asked, changing the subject. “It looks puffy. You must’ve been pretty sick. Celia said you barely left your room.”
I rested my forehead on my hand, looking down and doing my best to shade my eyes and cheek from Zack. “Celia’s worse than the paparazzi,” I said. “So what do you have to work on?”
He stuffed the imaginary microphone back into my face. “Can I quote you on that?” he said in his TV announcer voice. But when I didn’t respond, he tugged at his collar. “Sheesh, tough crowd. I remember this one girl. Name was Alex Bradford. Used to actually laugh every now and then,” he said, then leaned over and pulled a crumpled sheet of paper out of his backpack. “Vocab,” he said. “Big test Monday.” I hated the way his voice sounded so serious, so un-Zack-like. But, really, he left me no choice. I couldn’t continue to play the flirt game with Zack. Even though I knew it meant nothing, I couldn’t keep inviting fights between me and Cole like that. I had to try my best to keep things from spiraling out of control. In a lot of ways, Cole’s mood was difficult to predict and didn’t make sense. But in a lot of ways I couldn’t blame him for being jealous of my relationship with Zack. Zack was flirtatious. And I egged him on, probably because it always felt so good to get that attention. But now I didn’t want it. I couldn’t want it, because wanting it made it look to Cole like I didn’t want him.
We worked on vocabulary, and then I helped Zack make some changes to a report he had due, the whole time keeping my face tipped down toward the desk as best I could.
Then, just as we were getting ready to pack up, the door flung open and Cole strutted in.
My stomach automatically seized up, and my heart started racing. Cole plus Zack in any room never equaled anything but trouble. And the last thing I needed, on my first day back and while I was trying to hide a black eye, was trouble.
Zack must have sensed it, too, because he let out a deep breath and started packing up, wordlessly.
But Cole’s face was open happiness.
“Hey, you two,” he said, coming up behind Zack and slapping him on the shoulder good-naturedly. If I hadn’t been seeing it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it. “It’s Friday—you’re not supposed to be working so hard on a Friday!”
He bounced around Zack to my side, then leaned over and kissed me.
“Big C,” Zack boomed. “How the hell are ya? Kill any puppies lately?”
Cole laughed out loud—a forced, hearty laugh—then reached across and punched Zack lightly on the shoulder. “No, but the day’s still young,” he said. Then to me, “You’re right, Alex, the guy’s got a sense of humor.” I responded with a thin smile.
Zack pulled the toothpick out of his mouth and held it in his hand while he shimmied into his backpack. I could tell by looking at him that he was so not finding this funny, but that, like me, he didn’t know what exactly to find it, either.
“Yep, I’m a real comedian,” he said. “Listen, Alex, you gonna be around this weekend?”
I nodded, unsure what was playing out between them, but getting very nervous. Please, Zack, I pleaded on the inside. I know you don’t know what you’re messing with here, but I could get hurt if you turn this into a game. And then my heart sank when I thought of it like that. I could get hurt. Because of a joke.
“I should be,” I said. “Got a lot of homework, though.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, leveling his eyes at Cole purposely this time. Then back to me. “Bethany’s coming over to help me memorize my part. Thought maybe you’d want to come over, too. Since, you know, we don’t do the Saturday thing anymore.”
“Maybe,” I said, hating the shake in my voice and the way I felt electric standing next to Cole, waiting for his response, which I was sure was going to be violent.
“Hey, baby, that sounds like fun,” Cole said, bumping me with his hip. “My dad’s got me doing some lame-ass chores this weekend, anywa
y. This way I won’t have to feel bad about leaving her alone all weekend, you know, man?” Again with that friendly shoulder punch. I flinched, but Zack stood so steady he almost looked like he was made of concrete.
“Cool,” Zack finally said, poking the toothpick back into his mouth. “I’ll call you.”
He started toward the door, holding his rolled-up script of The Moon for Me and You in a tight fist.
“See ya, man! Have a good weekend,” Cole called after him.
“Hey, same to you, Big C, you cool, cool guy,” Zack called back without turning around.
After he was gone, I finally turned to Cole. “What was that?”
He shrugged, his face still lit up and smiling. “What was what?”
I gestured toward the door. “That. All that ‘Have a good weekend’ stuff.”
He reached for me so suddenly I flinched, but he simply wrapped both arms around my waist and pulled me in against him. “I’m trying. For you. You said you wanted me to try, so I’m trying.”
I grinned. “Really?”
“Yeah. I figure if you like him, he can’t be all that bad. And if I’m going to be with you forever—and I am—then I better get used to hanging with him. And Bethany, too. Your friends are my friends, baby.” He leaned down and gently, gently kissed my cheekbone.
I let out a deep sigh and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his chest. It felt so good to touch him again. To feel like this—whatever it was—was over and we were back to who we were before. “Thank you,” I breathed. “I love you so much.”
He rested his chin on top of my head. “Anything for you. I told you I’d make it up to you, and I meant it. Nothing but good from here on out. Here. I have something for you. Early Christmas present.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something silvery and shining. He lifted his hand and let it unravel, a silver chain with a delicate silver dream catcher dangling from it. It was tiny, with little red stones dotting a silver-colored web. The feathers hanging from the bottom were made of silver, too, the whole thing gleaming under the fluorescent classroom lights.
I gasped and held my hand to my mouth, looking from the dream catcher, swiveling in the air, to Cole’s face, which was shiny and happy.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “Cole, you shouldn’t…”
“I had to,” he said. “Because I love you. And I hurt you. I hurt the person I love most in this world, and I’ll never forgive myself.”
I took the necklace from him and studied it in my outstretched palm. “I love you, too,” I said. “And it’s beautiful. Thank you.”
I unclasped the necklace and held it out to him, then turned around, holding my hair up in the back so he could put it on me. When he was finished, the dream catcher lay cold against my chest, about two inches higher than my mom’s, which stayed safe under my shirt.
Looking down at it, I dropped my hair and laid my palm over the new necklace and turned back to him.
“I love it,” I said. “It’s perfect.”
He moved my hand and inspected the necklace, then bent and kissed my palm. “I thought you could use a new one. Now you don’t have to wear that old one all the time anymore.”
I might have argued. Might have reminded him that I hadn’t taken off the old one since I was eight years old and I wasn’t about to start now. Might have let him know that I had every intention of wearing both of them every day. That I even thought it was cool to wear them together—one to protect me from old nightmares, the other to protect me from new ones.
But at the moment all I could think was, Thank God. Thank God I never told anyone what had happened. Thank God I hadn’t lost my faith in him. Thank God he came back, the old Cole. And thank God I was right about him in the first place.
Instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned into him. He hung his arms over my shoulders and rested his chin on top of my head.
We stayed like that for a long time—wrapped up around each other, swaying, our heads stacked, like we were one person split in two and trying to get back together again. Then, finally, he pulled away.
“Hey,” he said. “Let’s ditch tutoring today. Let’s go back to my house. I’ll play that song I’ve been writing for you. Brenda’s with her book club, and Dad’s working. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “I have had enough of school for one day.” I touched my cheek. “I’m not on the schedule at The Bread Bowl tonight, either.” Thank God. That would give my cheek one more day to heal before Georgia’s searching eyes would most definitely seek it out.
I zipped my backpack and tossed it over my shoulders. “Ready,” I said. Cole turned, beaming at me.
“Let’s go out tonight, then,” he said. “Your choice.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking how great it would feel to get out of the house and be just a face in a crowd, where nobody would ask me what was wrong with my eye. “Sounds great!”
He reached over and pulled me in again, kissing me on top of the head. “A whole day and night with the girl I love most in this world,” he said, picking up his bag and leading me to the door, our hips bumping as we walked. Just like before there was anything dark and private between us.
Or maybe not quite like before. I’d never seen him look this happy before. This was new. An all-new Cole. An all-new relationship.
He really was trying. He was trying for me. And that’s all that mattered, right? Not that a person makes a mistake, but that he learns from it and tries to be better.
I didn’t even notice my cheek for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Alex! Door!” Celia yelled from downstairs. I’d just gotten home from work and was changing out of my uniform.
I figured it was Zack, wanting to practice his part. I’d heard Celia complaining to Dad about how she’d been helping Zack all week and there was a cemetery scene he was just never going to get memorized. Opening night was just a month away, and he was really stressing about it. She’d probably finally told him to bug me about it for a change.
I sighed, wiggling into a T-shirt. “Minute!” I yelled back. I pulled a pair of jeans on, wishing Zack had at least given me time to text Cole that I was home.
I hadn’t seen Cole all day, even though he should’ve been done with practice by now. I hadn’t heard from him, and that worried me because I knew he was stressing out about the upcoming Friday night’s tournament. His dad was talking of little else, just like he’d been doing pretty much since games started.
But usually Cole would come over to The Bread Bowl after Saturday practice and hang out, waiting for me to get off. But he hadn’t shown up today, and with Dave hanging around all the time, Georgia had adopted a strict no-cell-phone policy, so I had no way of finding out what was going on with him.
Who knew where he was? Probably doing something at home. Usually when he went missing, it had something to do with home. He never gave details about what was going on at his house, but once he told me his mom had slit her wrists more times than he could count. She never does it seriously, though, he’d said. She just wants the attention. And then he ended, as he always did when he was talking about his family, with Fucking Brenda.
I’d just have to get rid of Zack quickly. Tell him I was too tired to practice. Tomorrow. I’d promise to help him tomorrow.
I glanced in the mirror, pulling out my ponytail holder and raking my hand through my hair, then bounded down the steps.
“You still don’t have that cemetery scene memorized?” I said, but stopped as I rounded the corner.
It wasn’t Zack sitting on the edge of Dad’s recliner. It was Cole, looking dark and sparkle-eyed. Energized.
He got up when he saw me. “Hey, baby,” he said.
“You didn’t tell me it was Cole,” I said, but Celia was ignoring us, watching TV, her thumb working her cell phone keypad.
But before I could say any more, he was wrapped around m
e, hugging me around the waist and picking me up, my toes dangling above the carpet.
“I missed you today,” he said.
“Where were you? Practice ended hours ago, didn’t it?”
He put me down, kissed me again, and waved the question away. “Missed practice,” he said. “Family stuff. Had to meet with my dad’s lawyer in Pine Gate. Some old stupid lawsuit. Not important. Just really boring. I saw you leaving The Bread Bowl and followed you home.”
Again, he hugged me. It felt so good after a long day of work to be wrapped up in his arms.
Things had been so good between us lately. Christmas break had been great for Cole. Without school and practice, he seemed to really relax, and except for the occasional blowup, we were like we’d been before he punched me. Last week we celebrated our four-month anniversary. It had finally snowed for the first time this year, which was kind of unusual for February, and we cuddled up on the couch together, watching the snow fall and drinking hot chocolate. Romantic bliss, like something you’d see in the movies.
I wanted this to be how life would feel every day, coming home from work and feeling Cole surrounding me. Looking forward to a whole night with him. Just the two of us, everything good.
We kissed, and I heard Celia click her tongue from over on the couch.
“Get a room,” she murmured.
“Got one. This one,” I said, giggling and kissing Cole again, this time harder and louder just to annoy her.
After we kissed, Cole pulled back. “Get your shoes on,” he said.
“Thank God,” Celia mumbled. “I’m about to throw up.”
“Okay,” I said, ignoring her completely. “Where are we going?”
He grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
I raced upstairs and pulled on a pair of sneakers, then touched up my makeup and ran a brush through my hair. When I came back downstairs, Cole was standing at the front door, his hand already on the doorknob.
“Come on, slowpoke,” he said, and we headed out.
In the car, Cole turned up the music and drove fast, pounding his palms on the steering wheel to the beat. Every so often he’d look over at me and smile, then reach across the seat and stroke the back of my neck with his hand.
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