by Cameron Lund
My cheeks flush pink. The truth is I care about Kai too. I like the way he always seems to make me laugh even when I’m trying my hardest not to. I even like his stupid nicknames for me, even though his stupid fucking nicknames got us into this whole mess in the first place. Somehow, despite all our planning for the contrary, everything changed.
“Just so you know,” Kai says, “I never hated you.”
“What? Yes, you did.”
“I’m telling you that I didn’t. I mean, did I think you were annoying sometimes? Obviously. But mostly I just ribbed on you because you always gave it back just as hard. I liked that. I kinda thought our whole vibe was . . . fun.”
My mind flashes through our history then: Kai making fun of my excitement on spirit day, Kai telling me I’m exactly the same as everyone else, Kai annoying me in the boathouse on the freshman camping trip, just the two of us alone in the middle of the night. He made me miserable in all those moments, made mean comments, turned everything into a joke.
“It wasn’t fun for me,” I say. “You hurt my feelings. I don’t like fighting with you. I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“Okay.” He nods, then after a pause, “Sometimes it wasn’t fun for me either. I mean, sometimes I think it went too far. I tried to mend the bridge so many times, and you just held so tightly to the idea that you hated me.”
The memories in my head replay from a new angle: me yelling at Kai for wearing the wrong thing, me telling Kai he ruined my life, me taking all of his comments so literally, twisting them to fit my view of him as a horrible person. But he’s not a horrible person. He’s someone who has made mistakes, but who has been trying to make things right, trying to apologize for most of the years since. Maybe I’ve used Kai as a way to feel sorry for myself. It’s so much easier to blame everything on someone else.
“I think . . .” I pause, trying to find the right words. “I think I never hated you either.”
Kai smiles and leans into me and then we’re kissing again, his hands sliding into my hair. And maybe this is crazy, maybe this is all wrong, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like we’re supposed to be here. Like that butterfly flapping its wings and causing a tornado across the world, all of the little moments between us for all the years we’ve known each other have been building up to this one. Now we’re finally where we’re supposed to be.
I pull back from him, wrinkling my nose. “I can’t believe I’m kissing you. Twelve-year-old me would be so mad.”
“Twelve-year-old me would be thrilled.” He snuggles into me then, pulling me closer to him.
We stay like that for a while longer, side by side under the blanket. There’s so much more I want to tell him, but I can’t say any of it out loud. Not yet. All I know is that I never want to leave this car, this moment, and that scares me. Rule number one—I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him, and right now I’m terrified maybe I already have.
Once his breathing has slowed and we’ve been lying silently with each other for what feels like forever, I reach over and take his hand in mine. Then I squeeze three times.
I wait, heart beating in my throat, to see if he’ll squeeze back, but he must have already fallen asleep. So I lie beside him, willing myself to sleep too.
THEN
JUNIOR YEAR—JUNE
“HERE.” OLIVIA PUSHES a shot glass into my hand. “Take this.” The world around me is swirling shapes and colors.
“I think I’m okay.” I try to hand the glass back, but she shakes her head.
“It’s the first day of summer! We’re celebrating.” She pours herself a shot too, and then we clink them together and throw them back. The alcohol burns my throat.
NOW
WE WAKE UP EARLY the next morning, the glamour of sleeping in the Jeep transformed overnight into aching backs and sore necks. The sun is still rising as we fold the blankets and move into the front seats.
The air is calm now, the morning sleepy and quiet, like the whole world is holding its breath. I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened last night—kissing Kai, for real this time. Almost doing more than that. Squeezing his hand in the middle of the night, so caught between waking and dreams I almost don’t remember doing it.
We drive back home in comfortable silence, listening to the radio, glancing at each other and looking quickly away. I don’t know what this is yet; we never fully established if we were going to do this for real. But I think I might want to.
There are a few more missed calls from my mom, and I feel surprisingly guilty. What felt like rebellion last night—exciting and adventurous and worth the risk—just feels stupid in the light of day. And mean. I imagine her pacing around the kitchen, wringing her hands, calling my phone over and over and never getting through. As mad as I was with her, she doesn’t deserve that. I shoot her a quick text and feel a bit better. On my way home now. Sorry.
We’re almost back to my house when Kai turns down the music and looks at me, slowing the Jeep so we’re at a crawl. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks for being there when I was freaking out.”
“Listen, Penny.” He reaches out and grabs my hand and I’m reminded again of last night, of the moment I’m too scared to talk about. “There’s something you should know.” He turns left onto my street. “I should have told you last night when we were talking about everything, but I didn’t want . . .”
He trails off as we pull into the driveway because we both notice the car that’s parked there: a lime-green buggy.
“Why is Olivia here?” I ask, suddenly nervous. I hate how we’ve deteriorated this much—that we used to be best friends and now her presence sets me on edge. I open the car door, ready to step out, when Kai holds out an arm to stop me.
“Wait, Pen.” He presses his lips into a thin line. “Before we go in there, I really want to talk to you. There are some things I haven’t been—”
But he’s cut off, because the front door flies open then and everyone streams out onto the front lawn—my mom, Seb, and behind him, Olivia.
“Oh, thank god you’re all right!” my mom says. I jump down out of the car and she wraps me in a hug. It’s weird—honestly, my mom and I don’t usually hug like this. But I involuntarily sink into her arms, melting against her, enjoying the feeling of her worry.
“When you didn’t answer last night, I called Olivia’s parents. I assumed you went over there like you always do.” She pulls back and looks at me. “Imagine my surprise when I was informed you hadn’t been to her house once all summer.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia says. “I didn’t want to lie. She was too worried about where you were.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “I was . . .”
“It’s my fault.” Kai steps forward, putting his arm around me. “She was with me.”
My mom tips her head to the side, studying him for a moment. “And who are you?”
My mom knows who Kai is. She drove me to his birthday party all those years ago, has sat through middle school graduations, and school auctions, and science fairs. Everyone knows everyone in this small town. But I know that’s not what she’s really asking. She means: Who are you to my daughter?
Kai knows it too. His arm tightens around me. “I’m her boyfriend.”
He’s said the words before, of course, but for the first time, it feels like he means them. It feels real. And even though my mom is looking at me like I’m going to be grounded until I’m eighty, I can’t help the swoop in my stomach.
“Well,” she says, hands on her hips. “It seems we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Yeah, I guess there’s a lot you don’t know,” I say, accusatory.
“Because you’ve been lying to me! How am I supposed to know you’re safe if I don’t know where you are?”
“Well, maybe if you were around more, you would k
now!” It’s so infuriating that somehow this has all become my fault when my mom is the one who has been absent, the one who is flaky.
“Why don’t you send your friends home,” she says, taking a step back toward the house. “We should talk about this in private. Thank you, Olivia, for coming to help. Penelope, I’ll be inside.” She turns and walks back into the house, the door slamming just a little too hard behind her.
“I know you’re mad at Mom,” Seb says. “But she was freaking out all night.”
“I know, okay?” I tell him. “This isn’t about you.”
“I’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on her.” And then he disappears inside the house.
“Wow,” Olivia says. “Even Seb is mad at you.”
“Liv,” I say, turning to her. I’m embarrassed she had to see all this. “Why did you actually come here?”
“Believe it or not, I wanted to see if you were okay.” She fiddles with the straps of her baby blue backpack.
“Really?” A small seed of hope blooms in my chest.
“Well, yeah, and also I want to talk to you about something.”
“Olivia, what’s going on?” Kai asks, hesitant, but she ignores him, keeping her focus on me.
“I talked to Jordan this morning, Penny. He told me what you said.”
My stomach drops. Did Jordan tell her that Kai and I were faking this?
“Wait, what?” Kai asks. “What did Jordan say?”
“I should have known,” she says. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch on, after everything.”
“Olivia,” Kai says, a warning in his tone.
There’s a glint in Olivia’s eyes, like she knows she’s about to drop the grenade that will blow us to pieces, like she’s happy she’s won. “I’ve sat by the past few weeks watching you guys all over each other, and now I find out this whole thing was fake?”
“It’s not fake,” I say, because even if this started out that way, it isn’t anymore.
Except that’s not what I said to Jordan.
“Jordan and I got coffee this morning,” Olivia says, her face growing redder. “He said he talked to Penny yesterday. Said she gave him hope or something—that she was only dating Kai to make him jealous.” She shrugs. “Apparently it worked. Con-gratu-fucking-lations, Penny. You win.”
“You told Jordan this was fake?” Kai takes his arm off me, stepping away. “You said that yesterday?”
“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Olivia says to Kai. “You started this whole thing by kissing her at that party! You were supposed to wait until after we broke up, but you just couldn’t resist. You had to go and make me look stupid.”
“What?” I say, something horrible churning in my stomach. “What do you mean—wait until after?”
“She kissed me!” Kai says sharply. He rests his face in his hands so I can’t see the expression in his eyes.
Olivia turns to me. “I know, and that’s the worst part.” Then she looks at Kai. “Or maybe the worst part is that you actually used my idea against me.”
“Olivia, please let me tell her,” Kai says again. He looks pained now, his face red, his forehead scrunched as he turns to me. “I fucked up, Pen. I’m sorry. This isn’t even what I—”
“Oh my god,” Olivia interrupts. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
Kai’s face crumples and he squeezes his eyes shut. I hold my breath, waiting for him to answer, but he doesn’t. “This is actually hilarious,” Olivia continues. “This is too good. Jordan loves Penny and Kai loves Penny and absolutely no one loves me. Wow, wow, wow.” She’s laughing now, like maybe she actually does think this is funny. But I know that she can’t, not really.
“Olivia,” I say, feeling the aching need to comfort her. There’s still a part of her printed on my heart. “That’s not true and you know it. Everyone is obsessed with you. You’re Olivia Anderson. You’re number one. You’re number one and I’m only number two. That’s how it works.”
Olivia laughs again, a strangled sound like she’s still trying to hold it together. “Don’t you get it, Penny? People aren’t freaking numbers. We’re just people.” Her words catch me off guard—I always thought Olivia cared the most of all of us. “Anyway,” she continues. “I just wanted to show you.” She flips her backpack and unzips it, rummaging around inside. Then she pulls out a folded sheet of paper. “I have receipts.”
Kai lunges forward for a second like he might try to grab it, but then thinks better of it.
Olivia sighs, holding the paper out to me. “There’s a reason I should have known you and Kai were faking it. Because the truth is he’s had a lot of freaking practice.”
She points the paper at me like a blade. I hesitate, then reach out and take it. Then she walks past me down the driveway. Her green buggy chirp-chirps and she climbs inside.
I watch her drive away, the paper still clenched in my hands. I’m too afraid to open it because as soon as I read it, there’s no going back. You can’t just force yourself to forget things once you know them.
“Just let me explain,” Kai says.
I unfold the paper and recognize Olivia’s loopy handwriting, Kai’s scratchy signature below it.
And then I read:
The rules:
1. This is strictly business. Either party has a right to end this at any time.
2. If Jordan or Penny show any interest, we’re done.
3. No kissing! Unless in front of Penny and Jordan.
4. Olivia must tell Penny how awesome Kai is whenever she can. Kai has to brag endlessly to Jordan about how Olivia is the hottest girl in school.
5. No matter what, we break up by summer.
6. If either of us catches feelings, we’re done. No exceptions.
Signed,
Olivia Anderson & Kai Tanaka
THEN
JUNIOR YEAR—JUNE
IT’S SO LOUD, everyone’s laughter thumping in my ears with the bass of the speakers, the sound like some terrible carnival music. There’s a familiar roiling in my stomach, the ache in my chest that means I’m going to be sick.
There’s a door in front of me. I lean against it, twisting the handle and tumbling through into the laundry room, running to the little bathroom off to the side. I crash down onto my knees, dimly registering the pain of it in the back of my mind, and then hurl into the bowl, a mess of snot and tears. All I can think as I slump there on the bathroom floor is how stupid I am. Tonight was supposed to be special, and now I’ve ruined everything.
There’s a sound behind me, I register the feeling of someone’s hands on the back of my neck, and then my hair is being pulled gently out of my face. Then smooth circles on my back, comforting noises as I keep crying, heaving into the toilet.
After what seems like forever, the clenching in my stomach subsides and I feel like the worst has passed. But when I turn around to see the owner of the soft, comforting hands, the sick feeling comes raging back. Because the witness to my misery is the worst possible person: Kai.
“What are you doing? Go away.” I try to wobble to my feet, but only manage to tumble onto my butt. I see the bruises forming on my knees then and realize I must have crashed down on them harder than I thought.
“Shhhhh,” Kai says. He pulls a long line of toilet paper off the roll and hands it to me. “Take this.”
I bunch the toilet paper in my hands and wipe around my mouth, then drop the soiled paper into the toilet. Kai grabs another bunch of paper and then reaches up gently to dab the tears around my eyes. Even in my inebriation, I’m aware of how humiliating this is, Kai taking care of me in a moment like this one, all snot and tears and the acidic smell of vomit. It’s Pukey Penelope. Don’t let her touch you.
“I’m so stupid,” I say. It’s the only thing I can think to say, the phrase that keeps re
peating itself over in my head. “I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.”
“You’re a lot of things,” Kai says. “But stupid isn’t one of them. We’ve all been there.” He holds the toilet paper up to my nose and I blow. Then he throws the tissue into the bowl, reaching across from me and flushing. “I’ve been there worse, to be honest,” he says. “I got so drunk at Jordan’s sister’s grad party sophomore year I ended up puking on a tray of canapés in front of his whole family.”
He laughs and I feel myself smiling too at the visual. But then I think about Jordan again and my smile turns back into tears. “Where’s Jordan?”
“He’s back there somewhere.” Kai nods toward the living room. I can still hear the thumping bass just behind the door. “Want me to go get him?” He starts to stand and I reach out and grab his arm, pulling him back down onto the floor next to me.
“No!” The only thing worse than Kai seeing me like this would be Jordan seeing me like this. “I’m disgusting.”
Kai smiles. “I’m not going to argue with that. You smell like a dumpster fire.”
“You smell like a dumpster fire,” I say back, which I know is not the witty comeback I want it to be. Usually, I’m better than this.
“I bet we can fix that.” He stands and opens the cabinet above the sink, rummaging around inside it. Then he pulls out a big bottle of mouthwash. “I was looking for a toothbrush, but this is even better.”
Twisting off the cap, he takes a sip, his cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk, then spits it out into the sink. Then he pours a little bit into the cap and brings it down onto the floor to me. “Here, take this. Make sure you don’t swallow it, okay? Just spit it back out into the toilet.”