“Yes,” she said, looking hurt.
“I honestly have no idea,” I said as I looked at her analytically for the first time. She’s cute, dammit. She looks like an adorable little squirrel you could train to sit on your shoulder and eat nuts from your palm.
“I was thinking of telling him I like him. Would that be crazy?”
Yes, I thought, that would be crazy. To put yourself out there like that, to say the words so nakedly and open yourself up to rejection—that would be crazy.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said.
She wasn’t even listening to me. She was busy staring across the water at him. He looked down and rubbed some sunscreen into his abs and a wave of longing knocked into me.
You know what, if I have to watch him and Nadia fall in love, that’s what I deserve. I had my chance, I blew it, and he’s done with me. It’s my fault, and I have no right to be this upset.
Saturday, July 29
Tris and Hannah and I went to Walden Pond today. I’d written about 10,000 words in a group text convincing them to walk around the water with me so we could soak in Thoreau’s aura, but it turned out to be a hollow victory, because I didn’t enjoy our hike at all. I was jumping out of my skin and had no patience for contemplative silence or Mother Nature. It was hot and humid and mosquitoes were whining in my ears. We walked in single file, me in front, Tris and Hannah yelling at me for bringing them on this death march, me yelling back that I was very sorry and I’d never suggest doing something spiritually enriching ever again.
It was better once we got back to the beach and ran into the water. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t bore them with my Grady problems, but as soon as we were on our towels, I told them Nadia was going to make a move on him and I was almost positive Reese regretted breaking up with him.
“I don’t know if that’s awful to hear, Hannah,” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you.”
“It would make me very happy if she dumped Zach,” Hannah said. “I know that’s uncharitable, but it’s true.”
“But she can’t get back together with Grady!” Tris said, horrified.
“Why not?”
“You have to stop her! And what about Nadia?”
“What about her?”
“She could be hitting on Grady right now, as we speak!”
I flopped facedown. “I know,” I said into my towel. “It makes me want to throw up.”
“So put on your shorts and go talk to him,” Tris said. “Right NOW.”
I shook my head. “I missed my chance,” I said. “You saw him at the Fourth of July party. He couldn’t be less interested in me.”
Tris paused. I guess I was hoping he’d contradict me, but he didn’t.
“What do you lose by telling him how you feel?” Hannah said.
“I lose my dignity,” I said. “It would be like handing him a knife and asking him to stab me.”
“That’s a ridiculous comparison,” Tris said.
“And I’m trying to be a better person,” I said. “Less selfish. I don’t want to cause more drama. He used to like me, he doesn’t anymore, and the mature thing to do is accept that. Maybe he’ll be happy with Nadia, or even Reese. I’m not going to interfere when I already know what he’s going to say. Telling him how I feel would be a relief, but only for me. It would annoy him and stress out whoever his next girlfriend is going to be, so I can’t do it.”
“OK,” Tris said sadly. “I get it.”
“I do too,” Hannah said. “I think you’re doing the right thing, Chloe.”
I’m crying as I write this, but I think I’m doing the right thing too.
Sunday, July 30
Reese forced Grady to give her a hug hello this morning and then sat so close to him she was almost on his lap. Nadia went over twice and looked up at him shyly through her eyelashes. I couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but he was smiling. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth and bit the inside of my cheek whenever I thought I might lose it.
Monday, July 31
!!! x INFINITY
My hand is shaking, but I have to write.
I can’t believe this.
I CAN’T BELIEVE this.
It was just the two of us working today. I spent hours staring at him longingly, willing him to look at me, saying Grady, I love you silently across the pool to him. He had his mirrored sunglasses on, like he always does, and I couldn’t read his expression.
Bear came to the pool for the first time all summer and stood pressed against Grady’s leg for an hour. During an adult swim, I saw him pointing to me and asking Grady something, and then the two of them walked over to the concession stand, holding hands.
“Bear, it’s so nice to see you!” I said. “Where have you been?”
“At day camp,” he said. “But tomorrow we’re going to visit my cousins.”
“Who is?”
“Me and my mommy and daddy and Grady. He’s my brother.”
“Right,” I said.
“I have my bathing suit,” Bear said. “It has fire trucks.”
“I have my bathing suit too,” I said. “It’s green.”
He nodded solemnly. “The water is cold, but not too cold.”
“That’s true,” I said. “Especially in the shallow end. Are you thinking of going in?”
“Yes. I have my floaties. You see that?” He held out his arms to show me.
“I do.”
“My babysitter can come with me.” He pointed to a middle-aged woman wearing nylon shorts and chatting with some moms.
“Have fun,” I said. “If you wave to me from the water, I’ll wave back, OK?”
He smiled and they walked away. Grady and I hadn’t said a single word to each other. It’s not just that he’s not into me, I thought. He actually doesn’t like me.
Bear waved to me every few minutes from the pool, and I waved back every time, even while taking orders and making change. Before he left, he walked back over to see me, by himself this time. “I have to go home now,” he said.
“Come back soon,” I said. “Do you remember my name?”
“Yes! Chloe. You’re my friend. I like you.”
“I like you, too,” I said. “So much.”
At the end of the day, people trickled away until it was just me and Grady, and we shut down like we always do. I swept up and cashed out. Grady put away the lane dividers, checked the chemical levels, cranked down the umbrella, and locked up the shack. I packed my bag, rolled down the shutter, and closed and locked the concession stand door behind me. The sun had set, and the trees looked dark against the lavender sky. I called good night to Grady without looking at him, then headed out to the bike rack. I was riding out of the parking lot, thinking about Bear, when suddenly I screeched to a halt, dropped my bike on the gravel, and ran back as fast as I could.
Grady was putting his notebook in his backpack. He looked up, startled. “What’s wrong?” he said.
“Grady, I Iike you. I like you so much. I always have; it just took me a while to realize it, and I’m so sorry. Mac is a cartoon someone drew on a napkin compared to you. You’re a real person. You’re interesting, and funny, and I have such a good time with you, or I used to, before everything that happened this year. And you’re hot, OK? You’re so hot. I sit across from you every day and I’m dying, Grady. I’m dying to—to be your girlfriend. I would give anything to be your girlfriend. I know you can’t stand me now, and I know you’re probably getting back together with Reese or already going out with Nadia, and I’m very sorry if it’s annoying to hear me say all this stuff, but I had to tell you, Grady, because you have to know the truth.”
He’d been listening to me without moving a muscle, and my whole body was prickling with fear, but when I got to the part about how hot he is, he started grinning, and a tiny spark of hope floated into my heart, and when I’d finished, we looked at each other, and he was still grinning, and I said, “Say something, Grady, Jesus Chris
t,” but he didn’t. He just stepped toward me and then he was hugging me so hard I thought my ribs would break, and then he was kissing me, and I was kissing him back, and we were kissing each other like we were trying to eat each other alive, and then we almost fell into the pool, and then we lay down on the grass and made out for an hour without pausing, until we were both thirsty and the grass had gotten cold, and then we drank some water from his thermos and made out for another hour, until we had to go home before our parents called the police.
We walked out to the parking lot with our arms around each other, squeezed together as tightly as we could squeeze while still being able to move our legs. Then we made out in the driveway for a while. My bike was still lying on the gravel, where I’d left it an eternity ago. I never wanted to move it. It was a monument to the moment I’d come to my senses.
“My mom’s going to kill me,” he said, still kissing me.
“My dad’s probably walking around with a flashlight right now,” I said, kissing him back.
“We’re going to visit my cousins tomorrow,” Grady said.
“Bear told me, remember? When are you coming back?”
“Not until Wednesday.”
“Like, in two days?”
“No, a week and two days.”
I was freaking out, but I wasn’t going to say anything—I don’t want him to think I’m weirdly obsessed with him already. Then he said, “Maybe I can jump out of the car when my mom’s not looking and run back here,” and relief flooded through me. He was upset about leaving too!
“She probably wouldn’t notice,” I said.
We had agreed for the sixth time that we had to leave, and then Grady said, “Tell me again about how hot I am.”
“You’re a brat.”
“You love me.”
“Stop.”
“You love me so much you want to marry me.”
“You want to get married?” I said.
“I would love to marry you,” he said. “I’d marry you tomorrow.”
“OK, we’re engaged,” I said.
And then we really did go home, after making out for another 20 minutes or so.
Grady, Grady, Grady, Grady Grady Grady Grady Grady!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, August 1
I hardly slept last night, and when I did sleep, I dreamed I was back at the pool, kissing Grady. I tried to eat breakfast, but I was too sick with excitement to choke down more than a bite of toast. In a strange way, I’m glad I won’t see him for a week. Last night was so perfect; I wish I could put it under glass, like a snow globe, and live in it. If we keep going, if he turns into my boyfriend, we’ll inevitably get in fights and be rude to each other and jealous of other people. If I keep sitting here writing in my diary forever, I’ll never ruin what happened yesterday.
Wednesday, August 2
HE CALLED ME! He’s in upstate New York, and tomorrow he’ll be in Canada. He snuck out of his motel room and called me at midnight, and we talked for hours. It was like we were two detectives trying to crack the case of our own idiocy.
“Why did it take you so long to tell me?” he said.
“Because you were so moody and quiet all summer!” I said. “I thought you were devastated about Reese.”
“I was devastated because you never talked to me!” he said.
“Is that why you were sulking every time we worked together?”
“Yes!”
We were quiet, and then I said, “Were you upset when Reese broke up with you?”
“No. Kinda. It was embarrassing mostly,” he said. “I knew everyone in school was talking about it.”
“Were you mad at her for cheating on you?”
He laughed. “A little. It wasn’t like she broke my heart.”
“But did you ever like her?” I said. “How could you stand to be with her for so long?” My heart was pounding. It was the question I most wanted to ask him, and also the scariest question to ask him. He didn’t answer for a minute, giving me time to start panicking about what he was going to say.
“I never liked her like I like you,” he said. “But, I mean, you weren’t into me. What was I going to do, sit around waiting for you to change your mind?”
“But why Reese? You could have found someone else.”
“She found me, I guess. And—you don’t want to hear this.”
“No, tell me.”
“I know she can be mean, but when she’s nice to you, it’s, like, a relief, and you feel amazing. It’s fun to be around her. Scary, but fun.”
“Oh my God. I know who she’s like.”
“Who?”
“My mom.”
“Oh, wow.”
“My mom’s exactly like that. Exactly.”
“And you love her, right?”
“Did you love Reese???”
I could almost hear him roll his eyes. “No! I’m saying you understand the appeal of people like that.”
“I guess. But part of the appeal of Reese is that she’s so sexy, right?”
I felt sick, waiting to hear what he’d say.
“Chloe, I don’t think we should talk about Reese anymore.”
“Good idea.”
“I’m serious. I don’t want to think about it, you don’t want to hear about it, and talking about it will only make both of us upset.”
“Wait, upset because you still like her?”
“No, you loon. Because I wasted a whole year being with the wrong person instead of with you.”
Dad knocked on my bedroom door and asked me if I was planning on going to sleep anytime soon. After I’d gotten him to go away, Grady said, “So why were you kissing Mac that day?”
“I wasn’t kissing him.” He made a skeptical noise, and I said, “I gave him a peck on the cheek.”
“Whatever you want to call it.”
“He came over basically to see if I’d hook up with him, and I said no, so he was leaving. I felt nostalgic or something. That’s all. Why didn’t you believe me when I told you nothing was going on?”
“I’d just watched you kiss him. He was rubbing your head—I don’t know, it looked so obvious something was up with you guys. And you were going out with him a few months earlier, so . . .”
“I wasn’t going out with him!”
“You guys were making out in the Bowline.”
“Oh, that. Yeah. That was a mistake. I completely ignored him after that.”
“Really? Ha!”
“Why is that funny?”
“I was really upset in February. I thought you were his girlfriend again.”
I remembered that, how rude Grady had been to me during rehearsal. It was so satisfying, realizing he’d actually been upset about Mac.
“Wait,” I said. “In the driveway that day, on the Fourth—if you thought I was back with Mac, why did you act like you didn’t care?”
“Duh. I was trying to be cool.”
“I was like, he hates me. It’s never happening with us.”
“I’m an amazing actor.”
“Oh! Wait! I know what I have to ask you! Do you hate my singing?”
“What? No. You have a sick voice.”
“I knew it. I have to say one more thing about . . . you know who.”
“Go on.”
“She told me you think I’m a terrible singer.”
“She made it up. I swear.”
“I believe you.”
Grady said, “You know when we started being friends again, during the musical? When we were talking about your parents a lot for a few days? Why did you disappear on me?”
“Did you like me then? You were with Reese!”
“I’ve always liked you,” he said.
“I’m kissing you through the phone,” I said, and he laughed and then said, “So why did you? Disappear?”
“Because I realized I liked you, and I didn’t trust myself to be around you.”
“What, like you were worried you’d jump me?”
“Yep. Basica
lly.”
“What made you tell me?” he said.
“For one thing, watching Nadia and Reese throw themselves at you.”
“You were jealous?”
“Yes! Obviously. But mostly I think it was Bear,” I said. “When he visited the other day, he told me he liked me, and the way he said it was so—I don’t know, so pure. I had all these complicated reasons for leaving you alone, but suddenly I thought, ‘What’s so hard and confusing about just telling Grady you like him?’ ”
“I’m going to buy Bear an actual fire truck,” he said.
Then we talked about all of it again, with more details this time. It’s so fun, being our current happy selves and thinking about our confused and upset former selves!
Thursday, August 3
He’s in Canada now. He can’t use his phone. That’s why he’s not calling me: because he’s in another country, not because he’s suddenly stopped liking me.
What was all that nonsense Tris and I came up with about how fun it is to be sick with love? This isn’t fun. This is torture. (But it is fun. I hate it, and I love it.)
Friday, August 4
Dad got home early from work today, and Miss Murphy came over a few minutes later. I could tell he was gearing up to talk to me about something, and I was busy worrying it was bad news about Mom when he said, “How about trying some driving?” He was attempting to sound cheerful. It wasn’t working.
Then Miss Murphy said, “Why don’t the two of us go, Chloe? I drove the Jeep over.”
Dad stared at her. I could tell they hadn’t discussed this plan yet.
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Marian,” he said.
“Has Dad told you I’m terrified of driving?” I asked her.
“He mentioned it.”
“And you still trust me with your Jeep?”
She grabbed her keys from the island. “Yep.”
We went outside. I got in the driver’s seat. It happened right away. Shaking, darkened vision, the whole thing.
“OK, start ’er up,” Miss Murphy said.
“I can’t,” I said. “My hands are shaking too much.”
The Year of Living Awkwardly Page 23