Anthony arrived at Jolie’s apartment at noon the next Sunday to work on our final lab report, which was supposed to be an analysis of everything we’d done the last two months. He was all windblown with rosy cheeks and a red nose.
“You look like you’re freezing,” I said.
“Nah,” he said, taking off a black wool cap with an NY Giants emblem stitched across the top. “I love this weather. They say it might snow this week!”
“I can’t believe it’s only eleven more days until Christmas,” I said as we took our normal seats at the kitchen table, spreading our notebooks and papers out between us.
“And only a week of actual school left before break starts,” he reminded me.
It was strange to think that this would be the last time Anthony and I would hover over our calculations and crunch numbers. Chemistry Sundays had become a habit, something familiar and comfortable, like slipping into an old pair of pajamas at night. Even though I totally hated the actual work, I liked knowing every Sunday was devoted to this particular project.
My cell phone beeped. I glanced down at the text: 12 HOURS ON A PLANE WITH MY PARENTS! DAD ALREADY SPILLED PEANUTS ON THE STEWARDESS! It was all caps like Georgia was screaming. I laughed.
“Georgia’s on her way to a Hawaiian cruise,” I told Anthony. “Her family’s Jewish and they always take vacations the week before Christmas.”
“Hey,” Anthony said. “Is your jaw hurting again?”
I realized I was unconsciously massaging my lower jawbone. “Oh, not really,” I said, taking my hand down.
Jolie appeared, hair up in a ponytail with a bandanna headband and workout clothes on. She smiled at Anthony. “Don’t you know that you’re not allowed in this house if you don’t bring goods from the bakery?”
Anthony reached down into his bag and pulled out a familiar white cardboard box tied with a string. He handed it to Jolie. “For you: a thousand calories.”
“Score,” she said, taking the box into the kitchen.
Anthony laughed. “Hey, how was the big party at Ethan’s last weekend?” he asked me.
Jolie breezed through, her mouth full. “I’m off to the gym. Work hard. See you later.”
“You’re going to need an extra hour on the treadmill,” Anthony called after her.
“It’s so worth it,” Jolie said, closing the door behind her.
Anthony looked back toward me. “So, did true love conquer all? Did Ethan and Carly hook up? Did fireworks blast, soft music play, and pink rain fall from the sky?”
He was being sarcastic, but I realized that he had no idea what happened. How was it possible that Carly, a student at Darlington for a mere two months, had the connections to obtain a full report down to every horrific detail in a matter of hours but Anthony, who had attended school with these people for his entire academic career, had no outlet for gossip even after an entire week of school had passed since the party? I remembered seeing him with his neighborhood friends and thinking how he had his own private world outside of the small, cliquish Darlington universe.
“Well, I guess you can gloat,” I said. “You were right.”
He looked intrigued.
I told him the whole story.
He didn’t say anything, but I worried that he was judging me. That he was thinking: These are your friends, your boyfriend. I wanted to defend myself, to say something, but I couldn’t find the right words. So we both just sat there in silence for an eternity staring across the living room at the twinkling colored Christmas lights.
Anthony was the first to speak. “Well, that sucks. For Carly, I mean.” Then he pushed his paper over toward me. “So I figured out that part three of the compound mixture must contain mercury.”
I let him show me his calculations and conclusions, but as usual, my mind was miles away.
LATER THAT NIGHT I called Owen. I told him that I wanted to break up. I couldn’t face another week of avoiding him and saying nothing. As much as I was worried what would happen at school once we were no longer a couple, I just couldn’t see myself dating someone who could be so mean to a girl simply because she was overweight.
“What’s up?” Owen asked when he picked up the phone, as though nothing had happened.
“Hey, Owen,” I said, pausing slightly and wandering around my bedroom. Finally I sat down on the edge of the bed and took a breath. “So I’ve been thinking. About how we’ve been sort of hanging out and stuff. And I think that it’s time for me to, um, move on.”
I heard him sigh. “Is this like a breakup call or something?”
“I guess so. I mean, yeah. It is.” I felt awful and relieved at the same time.
I waited for him to say he was foolish, or sorry, or something , but all he said was, “Are you sure? Because I thought we had something good going.”
“I’m pretty sure. I’ve done some thinking, and—”
“Hold up, Emily? I have a call waiting, can you give me a sec?”
“It’s okay, just go ahead and take it. See you in school!”
And then I hung up, after the shortest breakup conversation in history.
I put in an immediate call to Lindsey.
“I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING GOOD GOING? Are you kidding me? What a moron,” Lindsey said.
“I know, right?”
“Are you okay with it?” she asked.
I thought about what it would be like to not have him waiting at my locker. What it would be like if I wasn’t invited to all the best parties or how I would feel if I saw Owen walking hand in hand with the ponytail girl. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I just don’t know.”
chapter thirty-one
TO MY SURPRISE, Owen was standing at my locker first thing Monday morning. There also was a circle of strategically placed gossipy girls, including Sammy Greensboro and Vera Stewart, at surrounding lockers, ears perked and waiting.
“Hey,” Owen said.
“Hi,” I said, going right for the combination dial, trying to avoid his ocean green eyes.
He leaned his head against the locker next to mine, finding my eyes. “What’s this all about, Em? We barely even had a chance, ya know?”
His eyes were so soft. I felt myself wavering. I didn’t answer, just searched for my history book.
“Look, if this is about Tara . . .”
I whipped my head around. “Who’s Tara?”
Owen’s cheeks flushed. He swept his hand through his hair, massaging his scalp.
“Oh,” I said curtly. “I guess that’s the girl with the ponytail from the party?”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Owen said.
Heat rose in my cheeks. “Was I just a challenge? The new girl—someone totally different than the norm?” I slammed my locker shut. “It doesn’t even matter. All I know is I wasn’t worth being faithful to.”
The hallway was so quiet I heard my loafers clomp as I walked toward my homeroom. I opened the door, crossed the room, took my seat, and planted my head straight down on the desk.
“LISTEN, I KNOW things have been kinda tricky with Owen lately, Em,” Andi said at lunch later, interrupting my conversation with Lindsey about our Christmas plans. “But I really think you should still give him a chance to apologize and make things work. I mean, a million girls would jump at the chance to date Owen. Would you really want to throw that away?”
“I don’t know, I—” I began.
But Andi forged on. “Think about what he’s done for your popularity in this school.”
I looked across the lunchroom at the fireplace. “It just isn’t worth it to me.” I didn’t mean it to come out harsh, I just wanted to be honest.
But Andi shrugged, got up, turned, and walked across the lunchroom. I watched her exit through the patio doors, shiver from the cold, and wrap her arms around Aidan from behind. He turned and gave her a kiss. For Andi, life without her boyfriend and popularity was unimaginable.
I stared up at the festive silver bells strung across the ceiling. Wit
hout looking down, I whispered, “Why does a breakup never just involve the two who are doing the breaking?”
“I don’t know,” Lindsey said, following my gaze upward. “Silver bells, silver bells,” she sang softly. “Soon it will be Christmas Day.”
WHEN I SAT DOWN in chemistry class, Anthony handed me a thick stack of papers.
“You retyped our report?” I asked. “Why? I had my copy done.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile, something completely unfamiliar to his usual teasing nature. Obviously, he had heard about the breakup. “I didn’t change anything,” he said. “Just, ya know, tidied it up a bit.”
I flipped through the pages, feeling guilty that I had contributed so little to our partnership.
As if he could read my mind, Anthony said, “You’ve kept things exciting.”
I stuffed my copies back into my backpack and passed the newly typed report forward. Anthony tapped me on the arm and pointed his chin toward the back of the room. “Guess she’s not too heartbroken, huh?”
“What?” I turned my head. At the back lab table Carly and Ethan were smiling at each other. Carly whispered something in Ethan’s ear and he burst out laughing. Mrs. Klein gave him an evil look, so he covered his mouth, but his shoulders were still shaking. Carly smirked at him playfully and handed their reports forward.
Does she have no pride?!!!! I wanted to march over there and smack her on the head. Her humiliation had prompted me to break up with my boyfriend, and here she was, making jokes with her tormentor! All class I was fidgety. I kept stealing glances toward Carly but never could catch her eye. I decided to wait for her after class.
When Carly walked into the hall, I grabbed her arm. “Hey,” I said.
“Oh, hi!” Carly said.
Ethan came from behind, tapped Carly on the shoulder, then flashed her a peace sign as he walked on down the hallway. She smiled toward him, holding her fingers into the same V shape.
I stared at her, dumbfounded. “What was THAT? I guess everything’s peaceful between you guys?” My voice was shrill.
Carly started to head down the hall, so I walked with her, even though my next class was in the opposite direction.
“I met Ethan at the library on Sunday so we could finish our chem reports,” Carly said.
“Uh-huh,” I said, waiting for more.
“Well, we had a long talk. I told him how upset I was. He said he was sorry for hurting me, and I forgave him.”
“He said he was sorry, and you forgavehim. That’s it? You’re going to let him off that easily? After humiliating you?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Carly stopped in front of her English lit classroom. “Yes, it was humiliating,” Carly said calmly. “But you know what? I’m glad it happened.”
I gave her a crazy look. “What?”
“That night my mom and I sat on the couch eating Doritos and talking about how men will never love us. My destiny, I thought, was to be fat and alone. But the next morning I was at the gym with Trent and I had a total meltdown. And Trent said something that really stuck with me. It wasn’t about my weight. If I walk around thinking I’m not worthy of love and respect, I’ll never get it. When I’m happy with myself, no one will ever be able to shatter me emotionally again.”
“TRENT said that?” I thought about how Trent had been so supportive to Carly. It’s funny how just because Trent was eccentric and always cracking jokes, he always surprised me when he showed signs of compassion. But this wasn’t the first time I had seen his acts of kindness.
Carly laughed. “Yeah, I know. But I think spending so much time with women has given him some insight into our insecurities. So after the gym, I called my counselor and scheduled an emergency session. He said this was a perfect opportunity for me to learn how to forgive.” Carly averted her eyes momentarily. “I guess I still haven’t forgiven my father for leaving. So, according to my counselor, this whole thing with Ethan is a stepping stone for my personal growth.” She made air quotes and rolled her eyes.
“Man, where do they come up with this stuff?”
“I know. But I just decided—you know what? The man might have a point. So I decided to confront Ethan, and it was so freeing.”
I smirked. “So what exactly did you say to Ethan on Sunday?”
The bell rang. Locker doors slammed shut and people from the hallway raced into their classrooms.
Carly smiled. “I told Ethan he was an ass.”
I laughed.
“I told him that just because he was graced with over six feet of height and long lean muscles, it did not give him the right to put down someone less genetically gifted. Then I told him he was an idiot and totally incapable of passing our chemistry lab without me so he better get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness.”
I laughed. “So did he?”
“Apologize? Yeah, he did. And he was pretty nice about it.”
I smiled. “Well, I’m glad you feel better about it.”
“Yeah, I mean, don’t think I still don’t have moments where I visualize Ethan’s skull crashing into a metal basketball hoop.” Carly smiled and swung her purse over her shoulder. “Hey, and thanks—for Friday night and Saturday—well, thanks for everything.” She opened the classroom door and disappeared within.
I EXPECTED A SEVERE REPRIMAND or at the very least a little tsk-tsk from Dr. Reeves. But he was all smiles, humming Christmas carols and talking snow.
“I remember back when I was a little boy up in Vermont, every Christmas was white,” Dr. Reeves said with nostalgia. He massaged my jaws, prodded at my teeth. “This is going to make you feel a whole lot better, hon.” He handed me a case, rattling the retainer inside. He smiled. “But it only helps if you wear it.”
“Okay,” I said, taking the case. “I promise.”
He extended his hand to me. “Now where’s that pretty little aunt of yours?”
Hmm. “In the waiting room,” I said.
“I’d just like to talk to her about some follow-up appointments,” Dr. Reeves said, following me out of the exam room.
Jolie sat in a deep leather chair reading InStyle. She saw us approaching and stood up.
Dr. Reeves shook her hand, and I noticed he remembered her name.
They talked about my new night guard and follow-up appointments. Then the conversation turned to the holidays, the weather, tourists flooding the city. Dr. Reeves smiled a lot and Jolie played with her hair. They didn’t seem to notice me or the mounting number of patients filling up the waiting room.
I excused myself and went to the bathroom.
When I returned, Dr. Reeves was gone.
“I wonder if he’s that friendly with all of his patients’ aunts,” I said playfully.
Jolie didn’t say anything, but she smiled, biting her lips a little.
We got into a cab and Jolie gave the driver our address.
“You know,” Jolie said suddenly. “It’s time.”
“Time?” I asked.
“Time to move on. I’m at a place now where I’m not looking just for intensity and romance. I want to live with an everyday contentment. It’s time to forgive all those jerks from before—forget all the hurt and give the shy kid an honest try.”
“Oh my God, the dentist asked you out!” I exclaimed.
She smiled wistfully out the cab’s dirty window. “The dentist asked me out.”
THAT NIGHT I COULDN’T get the idea of forgiveness out of my mind. Carly, who was so willing to forgive and forget—even to bond—with the person who humiliated her, and Jolie deciding to let go of a lifetime of disappointing relationship failures. I couldn’t help but realize that there was one blatant person who had not yet rendered forgiveness. That person was me.
chapter thirty-two
IT WAS A SNOWY SATURDAY NIGHT when I found the answer I had spent months searching for. The ironic thing is, on that night, I wasn’t searching for answers. When Jolie said she knew nothing about the apology, that the letters were
insignificant, I believed her. Or maybe it was just what I wanted to believe. So I thought there was nothing left to hide. All I was looking for was a roll of Scotch tape to wrap Jolie’s Christmas gift.
I was bundled in red plaid pajamas, my nightstand lamp burning as a flurry of snow trickled down and painted the Manhattan landscape white. Jolie had put on a brick red ball gown, twirled in a circle like a princess, and left for her fancy work party, which was held every year at some mansion on Long Island. Once she was gone, I pulled the small jewelry box out from my dresser drawer and dangled the necklace from my finger. It was a delicate silver chain with a charm in the shape of a lipstick tube. In my mind, I thought this could be a new beginning for me and Jolie. Maybe we could finally put the past behind us and accept that the apology would remain unsolved. Lipstick could be seen for what it was—makeup—not the instrument used to scrawl my mother’s final words.
I laid the jewelry box on a sheet of silver wrapping paper and got up to search for the tape. I found none in the kitchen or living room, so I ventured back to Jolie’s office. I rummaged through the large writing desk. The top two drawers contained bills and paperwork. The bottom drawer was locked. I’m not a nosy person. I respect privacy. But for some reason my heart started racing and I kept thinking about the hidden manila envelope filled with the letters from “D.” Could there be something else to hide? I scavenged through the top drawer until I found a key and shoved it in the lock.
Diaries. Black-and-white-speckled composition notebooks and although I had never seen them before, I just knew in my heart that they were my mother’s. I reached in and opened the first one. I drew in my breath as I saw my mother’s slanted left-handed cursive. Something in me snapped.
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