The Unexpected Everything
Page 35
Keep tradition alive and all.
TOBY
I felt my smile fade as I looked at the screen. For a moment I wished I was back where Palmer and Toby were, not knowing any of this—not knowing that Bri had gone through her first time without telling any of us, without talking to us about it, without doing the diner recap. And the thought of that just made me sad—not just for Bri, but for all of us.
ME
Right. Totally!
Talk to you guys later.
“Andie?” I looked up to see Clark standing by the hostess, with menus tucked under her arm, and I dropped my phone in my bag as I hurried to join him. We were seated at a table just one over from where we’d been on our first date, and I had a feeling that Clark had done something to arrange it.
“So where was your dad tonight?” Clark asked, as I glanced at the menu and then set it aside, knowing I would get the exact same thing I’d gotten before. “He wasn’t lying in wait and telling me that he knows people who know people. Is he feeling okay?”
Clark clearly meant this as a joke, and I gave him a small smile. “He’s good, actually,” I said, making my voice much more upbeat than I was currently feeling. I didn’t really want to go into it, telling Clark how it had felt seeing Peter standing in our kitchen, seeing my dad slip back into his old mode like it was nothing, like our summer hadn’t even happened. If I told Clark about it, it became the truth in a way I wasn’t sure I wanted, not tonight. So I smiled at him brightly across the table. “It turns out that he’s going to get cleared of any wrongdoing. So he should be back to running for reelection in the fall, everything back to normal soon.” I took a sip of my Diet Coke, needing to avoid Clark’s eye and the way he always seemed to be able to read me.
“But . . . I thought he wasn’t going to run again. I thought he told you that.”
“Well, it seems like he changed his mind.”
“I’m sorry, Andie,” he said, his voice low and soft. He leaned toward me, and I felt myself, without meaning to, draw slightly back.
“It’s fine! It’s what was probably always going to happen, right?”
Clark just looked at me for a long moment, his brow furrowing. “Are you okay?” he asked softly. “You seem . . .”
“What?” I asked, not meeting his eye as I folded up the top of my straw wrapper.
“I don’t know,” he said after a long moment. The waitress came and took our order—Clark got his Reaper-ito again—and when she’d left and the menus had been cleared away, Clark looked at me across the table, his eyes searching mine.
“Anyway,” I said, looking around for the chips, “that’s what happened to me today. How was your day? What did you do?” I was trying to get back to where I’d been just a few minutes ago, but I could hear that my voice wasn’t quite right—it was a little shrill, and I was talking faster than usual.
“It was okay,” Clark said. “I worked this afternoon, and then . . . um . . . got things ready for tonight.” He smiled at me, and I looked down at the table and wished, more than anything, that I was back in that same place with him.
“Neat,” I said, my voice coming out too high. “Awesome.”
“Andie.” Clark leaned across the table and took one of my hands in both of his. “If you’re nervous about tonight, it’s okay. And—”
“No,” I said, wishing I could shake this off once and for all. It wasn’t Clark’s fault my day had gotten so totally derailed. “I’m not. I mean, a little bit. But it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
I looked at him and realized that while I knew I didn’t have to tell him about Bri and Wyatt, I wanted to. I didn’t want to keep something that big from him. And maybe if I talked about it, the thoughts that had been swirling around in my head ever since I left Bri’s house would settle down a little and I could enjoy what was supposed to be one of the most important nights of my life.
“Okay,” I said, letting out a breath. “But you can’t tell anyone. All right?”
“Of course,” Clark said easily.
“I mean it,” I said, not breaking eye contact with him.
“Yes,” Clark said, his tone growing more serious, clearly picking up on how I was feeling. “What’s going on?”
I took a breath and started to tell him. By the time I was through, our chips had finally arrived, but neither one of us had touched them yet.
“Jeez,” Clark said when I’d finished, letting out a low whistle.
I winced. “I know.”
“This . . . I mean, this can’t end well, right?”
“Well,” I said, letting go of his hands, “I mean . . . Bri and Wyatt have been keeping it together all summer. So if they can get through this until he goes back to school, they’ll be fine. That’s what I told her to do, actually.”
“Wait, what?”
“It just makes sense,” I said, breaking a chip in half, not even because I really wanted it, but because I wanted to have something to do with my hands.
“Why were you telling her to do anything?” Clark asked, sounding mostly baffled.
“Because it was going to wreck everything,” I said, hearing myself get defensive, “and it was the logical thing to do.”
Clark just looked at me. “So is Bri just going to keep this secret from Toby forever? Are you?”
“Do you really think they’re going to be able to make a long-distance thing work?” I asked, knowing full well that I wasn’t just talking about Bri and Wyatt. “Especially since they haven’t even talked about it?”
The sentence seemed to hang between us for a second, and I pressed my nails into my palms, not even sure what I wanted him to say.
“Yeah,” he finally replied. He cleared his throat and looked down at the table. “That’s . . . I mean, I guess it’s a complicated situation.”
I nodded, trying not to let the disappointment I was feeling show on my face. What had I wanted Clark to say? That we were different, that we’d find a way to make it work? That he’d at least thought about this, like I had?
I took a long drink of my soda, wishing more than anything that we’d just left when I’d wanted to in the parking lot. It suddenly felt like Clark was getting farther away from me across the table, like there was a gulf between us, even though he hadn’t actually moved. “Well,” I said, giving him a tight smile, “it was the only thing to be done. If you’d been there, you would have understood.”
“Okay,” Clark said, and silence fell between us once again. I looked across the table at him and tried to imagine the rest of the night playing out. Suddenly, all our plans, all Clark’s preparation, my fancy underwear . . . none of it felt right anymore. This wasn’t how I wanted the night to kick off. I couldn’t even imagine recapping this in the diner in the morning, that we had been awkward and sniping at each other over dinner, not saying what we really meant. None of it was going the way I’d wanted it to. And it wasn’t fair to do this to Clark, since he had just been yanked into this. “Clark,” I said, swallowing hard. “About tonight. I think maybe it’s not the best night for it.”
I looked up at him, and he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and while I could hear disappointment in his voice, he didn’t sound surprised. “I think maybe another night would be better.”
“But soon,” I said.
“Yes, absolutely soon,” he said immediately, and I laughed. Our food arrived, and when Clark started eating his burrito, the kitchen staff gathering to watch again, I sent a text to my friends, telling them that our plans had changed, there was no need for waffles, and I’d talk to them tomorrow.
By the time we were done with dinner, things were feeling better. Not like the evening could still be salvaged, but somewhat back to normal. We were feeling like us again, at least.
“But I am worried about you,” Clark said, once the plates were cleared. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “How are you doing with all of this?”
For a moment I thought about telling him how
I was really feeling—like things were spinning out of my control and all I knew to do was to hold on as hard as I could, and try to keep everything together. But the moment passed, and I just gave him a smile, even though I was pretty sure he would see through it. “Of course,” I said. “I’m fine.”
ME
Hey! Running a few late to pick up Bert. Be there soon.
CLARK
That’s fine!
Whenever.
Um.
ME
What?
CLARK
So I have to tell you something
ME
What is it?
CLARK
I told Tom
About Bri and Wyatt
ME
What?!
Clark!!
CLARK
You were acting so strange about the whole thing
Not like yourself at all and I didn’t know if you were okay.
I just wanted his take on it.
But it’s okay. He promised not to tell
ME
You really think he’s going to be
able to keep this from Palmer?
CLARK
Maybe?
ME
I don’t.
Wait, hold on, he just texted
TOM
Andie! What the hell?!
ME
I know
TOM
I mean . . .
ME
I know
TOM
You know I have to tell Palmer
ME
NO
Tom, seriously, you cannot
CLARK
What’s he saying?
ME
Oh, just that he has to tell Palmer
CLARK
But he promised he wouldn’t!
ME
He hasn’t yet, but it seems likely
CLARK
I’ll talk to him
TOM
Hello?
ME
Sorry. Clark’s mad at you
TOM
What did I do? I didn’t even want to know
any of this. And now I’m keeping secrets from my
girlfriend?
ME
How do you think I feel?
You can’t tell her. Tom, SERIOUSLY
It’s bad enough you and Clark know
TOM
What’s that supposed to mean?
PALMER
Hey. What’s going on?
ME
Nothing. Why?
What do you mean?
PALMER
What?
ME
Did you talk to Tom?
PALMER
About what?
ME
Nothing. Just . . . checking.
PALMER
Want to see a movie later?
ME
Maybe! Can I let you know?
CLARK
Okay, now Tom’s mad at me
ME
But is he going to keep it secret?
CLARK
He says he can
ME
He also said he could do a British accent
You didn’t have to sit through the production of
My Fair Lady like the rest of us
TOBY
ME
Hi! What’s going on?
Anything happening?
Anything you want to share?
TOBY
ME
You’re bored at work?
TOBY
ME
That’s great
Toby
ME
No, I just meant that it’s good it’s
not something more serious, that’s all
PALMER
Movie? Bri thinks she can get us in free
And that it’s not just a ploy to get us
to hang out with her this time
ME
Want me to see if Clark can come?
PALMER
Idk, I was thinking maybe just us
I feel like I haven’t seen Bri lately
ME
She’s probably just busy
With her job
CLARK
Tom might be mad at you now
ME
I know that
CLARK
No about something else
(sorry)
TOM
Oh, so now I can’t act, either??
You said you LIKED my Henry Higgins
ME
I did!
TOM
SURE.
ME
CLARK!
CLARK
I’m sorry! I needed an example
ME
Stop telling Tom everything!
PALMER
Movie?
ME
Sure. Fine. Sounds good
And let’s not ask the guys
I’m currently mad at Clark
PALMER
What’d he do?
ME
Nothing
He just
PALMER
What??
ME
He won’t tell me what his new book is about
PALMER
I’ll get Tom to find out—I bet he can
ME
I’m beginning to agree with you
TOBY
ME
Awesome, you’re in?
TOBY
PALMER
Okay, I’ll see you tonight
I have to go talk my boyfriend off the ledge
Suddenly he’s worried about his British accent??
ME
Actors.
Weird, right?
CLARK
Can I see you tonight?
ME
Seeing a movie with the girls.
Tomorrow?
CLARK
It’s a plan.
And I am sorry about telling Tom.
I just needed to get some perspective.
ME
I get it.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
Xx
• • •
“So do you guys have an arrangement with management or something?” Toby asked as she leaned across the glass case in the lobby of the Palace Movie Theater, looking down at the candy. “That the only movies you can get us into for free are the bad ones?”
“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Palmer said from the other side of the lobby, as she looked at one of the coming-attraction posters. “I liked the dog.”
“I don’t think that’s the best indication of a movie’s quality,” I said, looking around from my spot behind the counter, next to Bri. We were the last ones there—after the show ended, Bri had swept up and we’d helped by pointing out where she needed to sweep. All the moviegoers had gone, and after Craig the projectionist exchanged an awkward greeting with Toby (their date had not been a success), we had our run of the place.
I looked at Bri doing her last checks of the theater, locking the front door so nobody would wander in and making sure everything was turned off, I was impressed that she was hiding her secret so well. But maybe she’d gotten used to it over the last month, or we just hadn’t been paying attention. But as I looked around at all of us hanging out, Palmer and Toby none the wiser to what was going on in our midst, I began to really feel like this might be okay. That we’d get through this, Wyatt and Bri would fade out, and nobody needed to get unnecessarily hurt in the process.
“What do you guys want to do now?” Palmer asked, heading over to me and Toby, while Bri did actual work, taking inventory of the popcorn kernels and condiments. “Diner? Or we could go to the Orchard?”
“Orchard,” Bri and Toby said in unison.
“Oh,” Palmer said, looking crestfallen. “But . . .”
“If you want food, P, just get something to go,” I suggested.
Palmer pointed at me. “I knew there was a reason we keep you around,” she said, pulling out her phone and taking a few
steps away.
“Order me French fries!” Toby yelled after her, then turned to me. “Think she heard me?”
“I think she heard you,” I said, laughing. “I just don’t know if she listened to you.”
“Okay,” Bri said, setting her clipboard down. “Done.”
“Can we leave?” I asked over Toby, who, rather than walking up to Palmer, was just yelling, “French fries!” at increasingly louder levels.
“Almost,” Bri said. “I just have to make sure that everyone’s out of the bathrooms and that they’re not a complete disaster.”
“How long?” I asked, taking out my phone. “I’ll see if Clark wants to meet us at the Orchard.”
“We should be good to leave in ten,” Bri said, picking up her phone to check the time, then leaving it on the counter as she headed for the bathroom. “And tell Toby I want in on her fries.”
I started to text Clark as Toby reached into her bag for her own phone, then sighed as she looked at the screen. “My phone’s dead,” she said, dropping it back in her purse.
“Why is your phone always dead?” I asked, shaking my head at her.
“Give me yours,” Toby said, grabbing for it, and I held it out of her reach.
“Wait a sec,” I said. “I’m texting Clark.”
Toby rolled her eyes at me and then reached for Bri’s. “Because you never talk to Clark,” she said, already scrolling through Bri’s apps.
“Okay,” Palmer said, coming back to join us. “Food’ll be ready in ten.”
“Did you get my French fries?” Toby asked.
“Did you want French fries?” Palmer asked, sounding extra confused. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Palmer!” Toby said, then looked up to see Palmer’s expression. “Oh,” she said, smiling. “Gotcha. I just—” Bri’s phone dinged with a text update just as I finished writing my text to Clark. “Oh, Wyatt texted,” Toby said, squinting at the screen, and I looked up at her and felt my stomach plunge.
“Maybe you shouldn’t see that,” I said, quickly reaching for Bri’s phone, but Toby took a step away, still reading, her brow furrowing. “Tobes, just use mine,” I said, desperately trying to get in front of this, holding my phone out to her.
“I . . . ,” Toby said, and now I could see that she was scrolling up, reading Bri’s text messages, her hand shaking and her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t understand what . . .”