Waiting for You

by Susane Colasanti

  “Yeah.”

  “You saw the whole thing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “I didn’t? Huh. Well, yeah, I was . . . I don’t really remember, just . . . around.”

  Nash stares at me. “You’re hiding something.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. I can always tell when you’re hiding something.”

  “How?”

  “If I tell you, will you tell me why you were there?”

  “I don’t need to know that much.”

  “Aha! So you admit that you’re hiding something!”

  “Do we need to be reminded of the most important rule for playing Most Embarrassing Moment?” Sterling asks. “I think we do, so here it is. You can never, under any circumstances, lie or—”

  “I didn’t lie!”

  Sterling blocks my face with her hand. “Can I finish?”

  “Fine.”

  “You can never, under any circumstances, lie or omit critical information.”

  “It’s not critical.”

  “It’s vital,” Nash says.

  “What’s the difference?” Sterling asks. “Critical, vital, same thing.”

  “And thank you, Ms. Synonymous,” I say.

  Nash goes, “It’s vital because she’s trying so hard to cover it up. If it wasn’t important, she’d have said it already.”

  “Said what?” Sterling goes. “How do you even know she’s hiding something?”

  “I can always tell,” Nash says.

  “You can’t omit information,” Sterling insists. “That’s not playing the game.”

  I give up. “Okay, fine, you win. I’ll tell you. I was there because I thought the letter was for me. Happy now?”

  “Why did you think that?”

  “Remember when you wanted my advice about some girl you liked? But I didn’t know it was Birgitte because you didn’t tell me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I thought it was me. Who you liked.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “So, I thought the letter was for me because I gave you that advice to write her something. And then I saw Jordan coming down the hall with it and I thought he was looking for me. Oh, and P.S.? Birgitte wasn’t really laughing at you. She was just nervous and she laughs when she’s nervous.”

  “You thought the letter was for you?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve already mentioned that.”

  “But if you were the one I liked, why would I ask your advice about what to do?”

  “I thought you were trying to tell me something. Like you wanted me to figure it out.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why was it so hot today?” Sterling wants to know.

  We don’t answer her. We’re just looking at each other. Now Nash knows. And if he’s smart, which he is, I’m sure he’s figuring out that I wasn’t completely hating the idea of that letter being for me.

  “Must be global warming,” Sterling proclaims.

  Even though he’s somewhat mellowed out, Nash still can’t resist correcting someone who’s crazy wrong. “Global warming isn’t about one day being warmer than usual,” he explains. “Or even one season being above average temperature. It’s a trend that takes place over thousands of years.”

  “But isn’t global warming a reality?”

  “Yes, but not because it’s warmer today. You have to consider the earth as a large-scale system, in which everything is connected.”

  I’m waiting for Nash to say something else about the letter incident, but he doesn’t. So we all just watch the lame guy in the next lane roll a gutter ball.

  Jordan finally shows up. I wait for sparks to fly between him and Sterling. But the only sparks are coming from his direction. She could not look more uninterested. And the worst part is I can tell she’d rather be here with Chris. Or at least IMing with him instead of bowling with us.

  We break out into teams. It’s me and Nash against Sterling and Jordan. So far, they’re kicking our butts.

  “You’re up,” Nash says.

  I lift the neon orange ball I always use. Not that I bowl all that often or anything. Which is obvious by how heinous my bowling skills are. Nash is really sweet to be on a team with me. He’s much better than I am.

  I roll the ball. It knocks down two pins.

  “You’re on a tear!” Nash yells. Which is a joke, since my last roll was a gutter ball.

  “I’m all about the improvement,” I say.

  “Obviously.”

  Nash gets up for his turn. Damn, he looks good. He’s like a completely different person. But it’s not just what he looks like that’s different. His attitude is different, too. I’ve been noticing that he’s more outgoing and he seems more relaxed around people. It’s like he’s the new-and-improved Nash. Nash Version 4.0.

  “Hey, so, Jordan asked if I wanted to do something next weekend,” Sterling whispers, even though Jordan is talking to someone playing the next lane.

  “Get out!”

  “I know.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I was seeing someone.”

  “Why?”

  Sterling gives me a look like, Quit it. I think I’m going to have to accept that nothing’s going to happen with Jordan.

  She goes, “Is Nash trying to get on People’s Sexiest Men Alive list?”

  “Um . . .”

  “I mean, he looks . . . good.”

  I know he does. I was just thinking that again when Sterling said it. But I’d be embarrassed to admit it out loud. Especially since Jordan and Nash are doing this dorky dance because Nash just rolled a strike.

  “He’s on Marisa’s team, remember?” Sterling yells at Jordan.

  “Yeah, but in spirit it’s girls against guys,” Jordan says.

  Nash comes over and sits next to me. Sterling goes up to roll.

  “Nice roll, right?” he brags.

  “Yeah, yeah, you rule the planet.”

  Nash’s arm is touching mine. Is he sitting like that on purpose? Does he want me to press my arm up against his more? Or does he even know we’re touching? There’s that pull between us again, except it still feels like it’s only going in one direction.

  “Nice jeans,” I say. “They’re new?”

  “Yeah. I just got a bunch of stuff.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  Then Nash flashes me a look. And for the first time in a long time, I can see what happened between us behind his eyes. I don’t know what to say. So we just stay like that for a while. Saying everything without saying anything.

  His arm burns against mine.

  Nash is amazing. It’s like he decided who he wanted to be and then became the ultimate version of himself.

  Now it’s my turn.

  52

  Here’s the good news: Sterling isn’t going to New York to meet Chris.

  Here’s the bad news: He’s coming here instead.

  Which means he knows where Sterling lives. And he knows where she goes to school and he knows how to find her whenever he wants. So when Sterling realizes that he’s a skeezy child molester, she won’t be able to escape him.

  I see a major stalking problem coming on. Sterling doesn’t see anything but sparkly rainbows and puffy hearts. She was so excited when she found out that Chris is coming here I thought she would hyperventilate when she was telling me about it.

  “He’s coming tomorrow!” she yelled.

  “Where are you guys meeting?”

  “Why?”

  “Just to know. In case.”

  “In case what?”

  “In case something happens.”

  You could tell that Sterling was suspicious that I would show up and crash her party, but I promised I wouldn’t. Of course I’m going, though. But she won’t know I’m there.

  “We’re meeting at the park,” she went.

  “When?”

  “Why does it matter?”

&nb
sp; “Just so I know.”

  “In case something happens again?” Sterling said. But you could tell she was joking. She was flying high on a cloud of infatuation and couldn’t be bothered to let anyone bring her down. “Four.”

  When I got to the park, I made sure that Sterling wouldn’t be able to see me. I found a spot behind a tree cluster that’s not too close. Sterling’s sitting on the merry-go-round, waiting for some random guy she’s hoping will rock her world. I check my watch. It’s almost four, but Chris isn’t here yet. You probably think I followed her to the park to be annoying, but actually no. I really am worried. Which is why I brought Nash with me.

  “What does this guy look like?” Nash goes.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “He’s older.”

  “Like thirty?”

  “Ew, no, he’s twenty-one.”

  “And what are we supposed to do if he attacks her or something?”

  “He won’t. That’s why she’s meeting him in a public place.”

  “So why are we here again?”

  “In case.”

  “In case what?”

  “Do you want me to swat you again?”

  “No, you abuser.”

  “In case something happens. In case she needs us.”

  “Fine, but I’m not into physical violence. It’s not like I can kick this guy’s ass or anything.”

  We wait. Even from all the way over here, I can tell that Sterling is getting impatient. She keeps checking her watch and crossing and recrossing her legs. It’s obvious that she wants to look around, but she’s trying not to. No one’s approaching her anyway.

  “What if he doesn’t show?” Nash goes.

  “Then Sterling will finally realize that meeting someone online is a stupid idea.”

  Some boy sits on the merry-go-round sort of close to where Sterling’s sitting. She looks over at him, annoyed. Then she looks around for Chris.

  “That’s him,” Nash says.

  I don’t see anyone. “Where?”

  “Right there. Sitting on the merry-go-round.”

  “That’s not him. He’s way older.”

  “I’m telling you,” Nash insists. “That’s him.”

  I squint at the boy. I wish we had binoculars. Why didn’t we bring binoculars? They always bring binoculars for stakeouts in movies.

  There’s something about the boy that’s familiar. I feel like I’ve seen him before, but I can’t remember where.

  “That’s not him,” I go. “He’s too young. He’s like a freshman or something.”

  “Doesn’t he go to school with us?”

  Oh my god. That’s it. He does go to school with us. He’s that random freshman who plays the triangle!

  I’m like, “I know him. Sort of. I mean, he’s in band.”

  We watch him get up and approach Sterling. She looks at him like, Do I know you? He says something. It looks serious.

  “We have to hear what they’re saying,” I go. “Can we get any closer?”

  “Only if you want Sterling to see us.” There’s nothing but open grass between our tree cluster and the merry-go-round. Which means we’re not going to be able to hear anything. Hearing isn’t worth Sterling knowing that I was here. She’ll never trust me again if she finds out.

  We hear Sterling scream, “What?” Then triangle boy says something else. He looks desperate. She looks pissed. She gets up and stalks away. Luckily, she’s not coming over this way. Triangle boy doesn’t follow her.

  “Why is she leaving?” I ask. “She’ll miss Chris.”

  “Dude. I keep telling you. That was Chris.”

  “No way, that kid’s name is—”

  Oh. I guess my brain was refusing to believe it. Even though I suspected Chris all along, I never suspected that he’d be the random freshman who plays the triangle. That’s really lame. I feel bad for Sterling, but I’m relieved that I can stop worrying now.

  When I get home, I want to call Sterling to see if she’s okay. But of course I can’t do that. I don’t want her to know that I saw everything. So I take out my new can of paint and brushes. My walls are already painted and Aunt Katie’s coming over to help me do the trim. I used her color book that has every possible color of paint in it to pick my wall and trim colors. I picked a light blue color called Zen Waterfall for the walls. It has a calming effect. And I picked a pale lavender for the trim. Aunt Katie came over a few days ago to help me paint the walls. They look awesome.

  Shockingly, Sandra didn’t give me the hard time I expected about getting to repaint my room. Partly it’s because I used my own money to buy the paint. But I think it’s also because she’s my new nutritionist-slash-trainer, so we have a more professional relationship now.

  After I repainted my walls, I decided not to write on them again. Or hang up a bunch of stuff in collages. I wanted to create a more peaceful space, so now my room has a very simple theme. There are only four photos on my main wall. I picked the best river photo that I took during each season, from last summer to this spring. Now they’re all in identical frames, hanging on my wall in a line. Together, they tell the story of a year in my life.

  I hear a car in the driveway and run downstairs. I can’t wait to get the trim painted.

  It’s Aunt Katie, but that isn’t her car. And she’s not driving it. A guy is dropping her off! I didn’t know she was dating anyone seriously enough to have them drop her off at her niece’s house, so I can’t wait to hear the sitch.

  “Who’s that?” I demand when I open the door.

  “Don’t say hi or anything.”

  “Hi. Who’s that?”

  “You didn’t recognize him?”

  “I couldn’t really see.”

  “It was Campbell,” Aunt Katie says like it’s nothing, climbing the stairs.

  “Wait. Campbell Campbell?”

  “Do you know any others?” She puts her bag on my bed and picks up a brush. “Is this the lavender?” She points to the paint can.

  “Yeah. Are you guys . . . like . . . together again?”

  “We seem to be.”

  I’m dying to know what happened with that. I thought she didn’t like Campbell anymore. What makes a person want to get back together with someone she decided she didn’t want to be with?

  Aunt Katie isn’t talking. So we paint the trim and there’s nothing but the ffffwut-fffwut sounds of our brushes. Which makes me miss sanding furniture with Dad. He doesn’t work out back anymore. I guess it makes sense that he’s totally out of the house now and all moved on with everything. It doesn’t mean that he’s moved on from me. Just moved on from a life that wasn’t working anymore.

  I’m dying to know.

  “So . . . how did you guys get back together?” I ask.

  “Well,” Aunt Katie says, “it’s complicated.”

  “I’ve got time.”

  She laughs. “Why are you so fascinated by this?”

  “I just thought you guys were so perfect together. And you said it was the best relationship you ever had. I couldn’t believe it when you broke up.”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “So why did you?”

  “I was stupid. I made a stupid decision to break up with him because I thought I could find someone better.”

  “But you loved him.”

  “I know. I don’t mean better in terms of personality, but . . . better physically.”

  “Oh.”

  “How shallow can I get, right?”

  Major revelation. Aunt Katie had a great relationship and she threw it all away because she was hoping she’d find a hotter guy. I guess that kind of stuff really does happen.

  “I don’t think you were being shallow,” I say. I’m trying to choose my words carefully here. “You just . . . didn’t know.”

  “I can’t believe how stupid I was.”

  “I don’t think it’s stupid to want to be with a hottie. Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

  “Yeah, but then you realize that this �
��whole package’ everyone’s looking for is unattainable. No one can be everything you want them to be.”

  I never thought I’d hear Aunt Katie say that. Ever since she started talking to me about her dating life, she’s always been searching for the whole package. The guy who has everything she’s looking for. She made a list of things he had to be: smart, funny, cute, interesting. Now she’s admitting that was all just a fantasy?

  “It’s so hard, with dating,” she says. “Everyone’s always on their best behavior for the first few months, so you don’t find out who they really are. You can feel like you’re totally connecting and everything is all euphoric at first—that’s the science of it. But after that, you’re usually disappointed. That’s why so many people—well, mostly women, really—are so surprised when they think they’ve met the person they’re meant to be with and then the guy ends up leaving them.”

  “Wait,” I go. “So you don’t think the whole package exists?” Because that’s exactly what I’ve been looking for, too. And I don’t want to find out I’m looking for something that isn’t out there.

  “Maybe,” Aunt Katie says, “but maybe the package comes in a different shape than we originally thought it would. The most important thing? Is being with someone who really cares about you.”

  Maybe that’s it then. Maybe it’s just hard to see what’s right in front of you while you’re frantically searching for it. And maybe I’ve finally found what I’m looking for.

  53

  Dirk is playing a song I’ve heard before, but I forget when I heard it or what it’s called. Right before this, he was ranting about how our school just got busted for not recycling. He has a letter from some official-sounding people in the part of Connecticut where they decide what we should learn. Dirk read the letter to us, which says that if the school doesn’t start recycling like it was supposed to be doing all along, it will get fined. And the story will be given to the press.

  Before Dirk, we never knew how many scandalous horrors were consistently hidden from us. Don’t we have a right to know what’s going on with our school? Aren’t we people, too?

  Dirk’s read so many interoffice memos and letters about teachers and students, even a ridiculously unfair letter the principal wrote about a student who was committed to a mental hospital. Dirk didn’t say which student, though. He only shouts you out if you’re a dumbass.