“Are you talking about Mira?” He sounded shocked.
I nodded. “Remember what she told you that first day in study hall?”
“You can’t be serious.” He honestly didn’t seem to know that Mira thought she loved him. “Who says something like that and actually means it?”
“Mira.” I ran my hand along his cheek, looking up into his blue eyes. I needed to soak it all up in this moment because I knew we would never be here again.
“Ivy, I like Mira but I wouldn’t date her in a million years.” He sounded desperate. “I think about you all the time—I wonder what you’re doing, if you’d like certain things. I miss you when you’re not here. I’ve never felt like this about anybody before.” He cupped my face in his large hands. “I want to be with you, Ivy, not Mira.” Then he kissed me again—slow and sweet and wonderful.
“Hey guys!” Mira’s voice called from around the corner. “Are you ready to go to study hall?”
We jerked apart just as her stunned voice said, ‘What the hell is going on here?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kellen
Ivy jerked away like somebody had stabbed her. Our heads swiveled toward Mira at the exact same moment. I’ll never forget the look on Mira’s face right then: her mouth hanging open in shock. A pair of felt reindeer antlers were perched on her head and they bobbed with little jingly bells. But in that split-second it was like everything was frozen in time, even the bells. Then Mira turned and ran. Before I could even open my mouth, Ivy jumped off the piano bench and ran after her.
“Ivy—wait!” I called after her.
“I can’t! I’ve got to explain this to Mira.” Then she disappeared out the door. I swung around on the piano bench and stared at the black and white keys. How did Ivy think she could undo the truth?
IVY WAS GONE. She had told me they were flying out first thing Saturday morning. It felt like part of me had gone with her. There was so much left unsaid between us.
When Ivy ran after Mira but they’d both apparently left school because I couldn’t find either one of them again before classes ended.
I called Ivy later but she didn’t pick up. I sent her three text messages. Finally on the last one she responded. I looked at it again on my phone for about the millionth time: Q I’m sorry. I let things go too far. I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you when I get back.
My emotions, which I’d thought were finally beginning to level out after my accident, were suddenly back on a roller coaster. And to top it all off, Laurel came up to me at the end of study hall and suggested we get together during break. Talk about timing. She hadn’t talked to me in three months and she had to pick today, of all days, to break the ice?
What a shitty way to start vacation.
THREE DAYS LATER Ollie and I were stretched out in the recliners at his house playing Halo 3. For the first time in a long time I was kicking his butt. His parents were at work and it was just the two of us down in the basement. The shades were drawn like usual and the room was mostly dark.
“How’s Jazzy?” I ventured, not sure if he wanted to talk about it or not.
“I guess she’s okay. We haven’t talked much lately.” Ollie sounded glum.
“Do your parents know?”
“Not yet.” He jerked his joystick up as he tried to make his vehicle jump a gap in the grid but he didn’t make it and exploded in a ball of flames. He dropped his hands in his lap with a dejected sigh. “They’re gonna fuckin’ freak.” He flopped his head back against the cushion. “God, I can’t even think about it. It makes me want to throw up.”
I paused the game. I felt depressed for him. Or maybe I felt depressed for me. Or maybe I felt depressed for both of us. Shit - when did life get so messed up? I wanted the rewind button – to go back to the day of the Homecoming Dance and start over. “What’s Jazzy want to do?”
He rolled his head over to look at me. “You have to ask?”
I ran my hand through my hair and let my head flop back against the cushion too. “Damn.”
“I know. And I love Jazzy. I do. It’s just—God.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes.
“How’s it goin’ with the tutor?”
I let out a deep sigh. “Rocky.”
“Yeah. Hasn’t she got a boyfriend?”
I wondered how Ollie possibly knew that. “Yeah. And there’s some other shit goin’ on too.”
Ollie started the game again. “Forget her, man. Chicks aren’t worth it. Get yourself well and go play ball at U-Dub. You’ll have it made. With your looks—you’ll be able to get any girl you want.”
I THOUGHT ABOUT Ollie’s advice as I laid in bed that night staring into the darkness. The problem was, I didn’t want any girl—I wanted Ivy.
MY RIGHT FOOT and leg had improved enough that my parents finally agreed to let me drive again. It was a thrill to get back behind the wheel of my F150 truck and regain some independence.
I worked out harder than ever during Christmas break. Not only at the gym, but at the piano as well. Coach had asked me to come in and talk about making some updated training films after break that we could send out to the scouts who had offered.
There were some days I was so freakin’ tired I wasn’t sure I could climb the stairs to my room. But there was no doubt things were improving.
WE CELEBRATED CHRISTMAS at our house. My older sister, Julie, was home from college and my mom’s sister and her family always came to celebrate with us. My cousins were close in age to Julie and I. We’d grown up together, though they’d gone to Bellevue, but I didn’t hold that against them. Besides, we’d beaten Bellevue this year.
We were all sitting around the dinner table, stuffing ourselves, when Ronnie, my cousin who was a year old than me, asked me how I was doing.
“Pretty good,” I said. “I can actually hold a football in my right hand again.” I usually tried to answer questions about my health quickly and get on to other topics. I didn’t want to talk about all the things I couldn’t do now.
“You’re not thinking of playing football again, are you?” he asked.
I paused with a bite halfway to my mouth and looked at him in surprise. “Of course I am.”
“Dude,” he gave me an incredulous look, “you’re damn lucky you weren’t a permanent stroke victim. Why would you take the chance of messin’ yourself up again? Do you have any idea how long it’ll take your brain to totally heal from the damage it’s already suffered?”
I saw my mom and dad exchange a look. An odd silence settled over the table. I slowly lowered my fork to the plate, suddenly pissed.
“No, Ronnie. I don’t know. How long?”
“Years, man. If ever. Your brain probably had to completely rewire that section. Don’t you remember they had to drill a hole in your head to take the pressure off so your skull didn’t explode—”
My aunt cut him off. “Ron, that’s enough.”
“What?” He looked over at his mother. “I’m trying to save Kellen from ending up being a vegetable…”
“Enough.” The warning glare my aunt gave him should have made his hair sizzle.
I glanced over at my sister, who was sitting next to Ronnie, but she dropped her eyes. Something twisted in my stomach. What the hell was going on?
“It’s okay, Aunt Sheila,” I said, scooping up a big bite of mashed potatoes. “Thanks for the warning, Ron.” I wondered how Ivy’s Christmas dinner was going.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ivy
Of course Mira had to walk in on me and Q kissing. She’d never once come to the music room before study hall before—ever. But that day, that minute—she had to show up. I ran after her, through the hallways packed with kids, trying to ignore the stares.
“Mira, stop.” I pleaded as we reached the parking lot. “Can’t we just talk?” Mira just slammed her way out to Jefferson and then jerked the car out of the parking lot. God, why couldn’t she drive?
She sent me a te
xt about fifteen minutes later. ‘Ur a slut.’
I couldn’t think of an answer to that.
I went back in, got my stuff out of my locker and sent Brandon a text breaking up with him.
What a total loser I’d become.
I walked home and cried the whole way.
WE HAD TO leave at three a.m. to make our six o’clock departing flight. I didn’t sleep for one second that night. Everything that had happened—with Mira, with Q, with Brandon— just circled around my head relentlessly like horrible vultures wanting to pick at the remains of my brain. Or maybe it was my soul. It was actually a relief to get up in the darkness and take a shower to get ready to go. At least I had tasks I could focus on rather than the intangible demons of guilt and longing.
CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK can actually be very beautiful. My aunt and uncle lived in a spacious condo not far from Columbia University that overlooked Central Park.
“See Ivy.” My mother nudged me as we sat in their elegant living room with lofted ceilings and expensive antique furniture. “Being a doctor has its privileges along with its responsibilities.”
“Yes, Ma.”
IT BEGAN TO snow the day before Christmas. I love snow. There is something so magical about it. Within a few hours the city was covered in a sparkling white blanket. It continued to snow over night, grinding traffic to a snarled mess. At mid-day on Christmas, my brother and I put our scarves and mittens on and walked through Central Park.
We followed the path along the lake, beautiful white flakes drifting down from the sky filling the air around us, like magical feathers. The world was soft and beautiful—full of endless possibilities. Well, not endless. Some things weren’t possible.
Tuan’s hands were shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cool air. He had black hair like mine and was lean, taller than my father. Maybe living in America your entire life did that to you, made you taller somehow. He was also very intelligent, working on his medical degree with the intent of being an oncologist, which was a reflection of his kind, sensitive personality. We’d always had a special friendship.
We’d only been walking for a few minutes when he spoke. “What’s up, Ivy?”
I didn’t look at him. It felt like there was an elephant sitting on my chest, crushing me. I didn’t know if I could admit the truth to him without being trampled under the weight of my own emotions.
“Is it the pressure of school?” He reached out and pushed my shoulder. “There’s obviously something wrong, little sister. You look like you just lost your best friend.”
Of course, then the whole story came pouring out. I told him everything. Every last little bit, from Brandon to Mira, right down to Q kissing me—which I had hardly even allowed myself to think about—and how Q told me he wanted to go out with me. Even as I told my brother a thrill of wonder shot through me at the idea. Why would Q want to go out with me?
Tuan was quiet for a long time as we walked, but for the first time in days I felt a sense of peace. It had helped to tell someone else, to let it all out. Finally.
When Tuan spoke, his words were gentle. “It sounds like a tough time, Ivy. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through it alone. You know you can call me anytime, right?” He tilted his head so he could look at me. His breath came out in puffs of white. “I may be on the other side of the country but we have phones here too.”
I laughed and wiped my eyes. When did I start crying? “It just got so messed up so fast,” I sighed. “I thought I had it under control. I thought I could stop my feelings for him. I never dreamed it could become so tangled.”
Tuan nodded and kicked a snowball that someone had left on the pathway. It exploded in a puff of white. Overhead the trees stretched their arms over us like a protective umbrella, covered in white icing.
“Is he worth it, Ivy?” Tuan’s words were quiet, thoughtful. “You’ll be done with high school in a few months. Then you’ll be off to college where this Kellen fellow won’t be attending.” He stopped and looked at me, his face etched with pain – for me. “Wouldn’t it be better to just stop tutoring him and let him live his life and you live yours? You two come from different worlds: He’s a football player – you’ll be on to medical school. You have no common interests. What’s the probability that you’d date beyond the summer anyway?”
His face became more animated as he talked. Tuan was passionate about his studies. He always had been. But he was the eldest son. That position came with an inescapable expectation in an Asian family.
“It’s just by freak chance that you got to know him at all, right?” Tuan started walking and I fell in alongside him, the world suddenly feeling heavy again. “Let your friend Mira have him and you return your focus to your studies and music.” He glanced sideways at me. “You’re so talented, Ivy. The future can be anything you choose to make it.”
My heart felt like it was breaking all over again. Of course he was right. Stop the insanity and get my focus back. Just as I’d always done. Excel, excel, excel – make your family proud, Ivy.
I nodded and pressed my lips together to stop them from wobbling. Against my will, I pictured Q’s face as he’d stared into mine, telling me he wanted me. I wondered what he was doing for Christmas.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kellen
I waited until the day after Christmas to ask my mom WTF. It was obvious that the family had been talking about me behind my back. There were so many things in my life to be pissed off about right now that I didn’t even know where to start.
“So Jane,” I asked my mom, “what’d you think of Ronnie’s comment at dinner yesterday?” I was sitting at the kitchen bar eating a turkey sandwich for lunch. I’d been waiting for the right time to bring it up, but there was never a right time and I couldn’t wait any longer.
She jerked her head up from the mail that she was sorting to look at me. I never called my mom Jane. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Mom. About not playing football.” I sounded pissed. I felt pissed. “I got the distinct impression last night that everyone else in the room had an opinion on the subject that they hadn’t bothered to share with me.” I took another bite of sandwich, chewing slowly, trying to remain calm. “Now I want to know what you think.”
She dropped the envelopes to the counter. “Kellen, we don’t need to discuss this right now. You’re just finally starting to feel good again. Let’s focus on the positive steps you’re making.”
I set my sandwich down, an unfamiliar dread twisting my stomach. “No, Mom. I think we do need to talk about it right now.” I looked straight at her. “Are you saying that you don’t think I should play football again?” My voice echoed with disbelief.
She sighed. “Honey, it’s practically a miracle that you’ve recovered like you have.” She sounded like she was pleading.
“Doofus, why would you even consider it?” Julie walked into the kitchen right then. She punched me in the shoulder as she walked by. “God, Kell. Don’t be so stupid.”
“Julie.” My mom gave my sister a look. “I don’t think you’re helping right now.”
“Mom!” My sister wheeled around. “Somebody’s got to tell him. It’d be crazy to—”
“Wait a minute.” I pushed myself off the stool and stood up. I towered over both of them but suddenly I felt like I was twelve years old again. I had the most terrible urge to cry. “You can’t be serious.” I looked from one to the other. “After all the years of work I’ve put into footba—”
“Kellen.” My mom interrupted me. She held her hands out. “Calm down. We don’t have to make any decisions today. There’s lots of time—”
“There’s NOT lots of time,” I cried, slamming my hand down on the counter. “National Signing Day is the first Wednesday in February. That’s barely a month away. You know that. Why do you think I’ve been working so hard? So I can show those colleges who’ve offered that I’m FINE.”
“Kellen, bleeding brains and p
aralyzed limbs are not fine,” my sister snapped.
“Shut up, Julie,” I shouted.
“You shut up.” She yelled at me like only a sister can. “What is wrong with you? You don’t need football, Kellen—”
“Stop it, both of you.” My mom was definitely pleading now. “Let’s wait until your father gets home and—”
“Yes I do!” I shouted at Julie. “What else would I do?”
I was surprised at the surprise on her face. Her mouth dropped open and honest-to-God, for a minute it was like she couldn’t get any words out of her mouth. That would’ve been a first. But of course, she recovered.
“Jesus Christ, Kellen. Are you serious?”
“Julie—” now my mom snapped— “watch your language.”
“You can do anything.” Now Julie was shouting. “I’ve worked my ass off all my life to make the grade. Everything comes easy to you. You’re smart, you’re athletic, you’re good-looking, you have lots of friends.” She flung her hands out. “Has there ever been anything you’ve ever wanted that you didn’t get?”
Ivy, I thought.
“Both of you.” Now my mom was shouting. “Stop it, this instant.”
“I’ve worked for everything I’ve gotten,” I said, glaring at my sister.
“Well, then work at staying alive, you dumbshit.” Julie slammed a cupboard door. For a second she looked like she was going to cry. “I know.” Her eyes narrowed and her tone changed to pure sarcasm. “You used to want to be a doctor. Why don’t you work on being an orthopaedic surgeon so you can save all the stupid football players who aren’t as lucky as you and have to spend the rest of their lives in a wheelchair using a feeding tube?” She stormed out of the kitchen before I could think of a reply. What the—
I swung around to face my mom.
“Take a walk, Kellen.” Her tone was non-negotiable. Coach Branson had nothin’ on my mother. “We can talk more when you’ve calmed down.” Then she left the room too.
THE LAST TIME I cried was when Laurel broke up with me. Which wasn’t that long ago. I hoped this wasn’t becoming a pattern. I walked for a long time. Darkness comes early in Washington in December. Today, I was glad. I could hide in the darkness.
The Last Dance Page 13