And I think Mom was crying a little and I know I was too, because through my tears, I hugged back. And then, for the first in four years, I told them I loved them.
And here we are, twelve months later, sitting across from each other. My parents and I have kept in as much contact as normal families do--not too much, not too little--and for once, I’m happy to see them. I told them to come meet me for lunch but didn’t say why. I wanted to keep it a surprise. I wanted to see their faces.
My school grades have improved too, and now that I’m a junior, I’m finally focused again. I actually study for tests, this magic trick Logan taught me, and I feel better--about everything. Ruby and I are closer than ever. We’re almost like sisters now, and even though she’s pretty much my only real friend, she’s the only friend I’ll ever need. She and Jaden are still dating, and she, like me, is happier than she ever has been before.
We’re over the horizon now, and even though I know the rest of my life will continue to be rocky, there’s finally some sunshine in it.
I turn back to Mom and Dad, who are watching me excitedly. Well, Mom is, with her eyes all lit up and her grin taking up her whole face, but Dad looks almost as emotionless as usual.
“I have news,” I finally say.
Mom squeals. “Oh my god! Oh my god! He proposed, didn’t he? Oh my god he proposed!”
At first I glare at her, and then I roll my eyes and laugh, because that is such a Mom thing to say. “No, Mom, he did not propose.”
“Oh.” She sinks back in her seat, not even bothering to hide her disappointment. “Then what is it?”
I take a sip of my water. “This actually isn’t about Logan at all,” I say.
“Okay.” Mom does not look very interested all of a sudden, which would normally bother me, but today is a good day and I’m not letting her ruin it. “So tell us what is up.”
I raise my eyebrows. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say any form of the words “what is up” before. This is one for the history books. “You really want to know?” The corners of my lips twitch, threatening to turn into a smile. My parents aren’t the type that are usually interested in things about my personal life.
“Yeah,” Mom says slowly, as if the word is foreign to her. “I do.”
My heart leaps in my chest just a little, and so I reach into my bag and pull out the stack of papers I’ve been cherishing ever since I first received them. I take a deep breath and slide them over to Mom, who looks between me and them in confusion.
“What is this?” she asks.
“A contract,” I say.
“A contract for what?” It’s my dad this time.
I roll my eyes because it seems pretty obvious, but they aren’t known for their wit when it comes to me-related things. So I glance between them, studying the piece of paper, and then I hesitate, hoping like hell this doesn’t turn into a nightmare, and I say, “For a poem. My first ever publication.”
I’m not really sure how I expect them to react. To groan and ignore me? To give me fake smiles and nod and then never congratulate me? To do nothing at all, just sit there, stone-faced, like I hadn’t just made one of the biggest accomplishments of my entire life? All of these seem totally plausible options considering these are my parents I’m talking about, but none of them are what actually happens.
I stare in disbelief as soon as a genuinely warm and proud smile spreads across my mom’s lips, and she says, “Congratulations, Cali.” Something deep inside me bubbles, something warm and missing all these years, and Dad says he’s proud of me and that he loves me and that I’d make a damn fine poem someday, and now I’m really smiling.
They said they’re proud of me.
They’ve never been proud of me before.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, in a voice that does not even begin to express how shocked and amazed I feel. My heart thrums in my chest, beat, beat, beat.
“So when is it going to be published?” Mom asks. “And where?”
I watch her closely, waiting for the inevitable “psych!” but it doesn’t come. She seems genuinely interested. Wow. This is almost surreal. “It’s a poem called The Road and it’s going to be published in six months in an issue of a small NYC magazine,” I say, and then I smile to myself because Frost’s first poem was published in The Independent, which was also a small NYC magazine. “I didn’t get much money from it, but a couple hundred dollars does not exactly hurt.”
“No it does not,” Dad says. Then, something insane happens. He smiles at me. Dad never smiles. “Amazing job, Cali,” he says quietly. “We can’t wait to read it. You’re--you’re off to a great start.”
I can’t believe it.
I put the contract back and thank them for being supportive, and our conversation gradually evolves into discussing Logan, how he’s doing, how my classes are, and so on. For the first time ever, my parents do not bring up their engineering company. Not once. And for that, I can’t help but feel all buoyant inside. They’re really trying, I realize. They’re really trying to make it up to me. And after so many of years of feeling totally alone, that’s an incredible thing.
~
WHEN my parents leave for a business meeting about an hour later, I stay at the restaurant. I can’t bring myself to go back to my apartment just yet. Instead, I reach into my bag and pull out a single piece of notebook paper, which has a poem scribbled on it in my messy handwriting. At the top of it is the title, The Road. I smile to myself, knowing in six months, it’s going to be published.
Logan and I are closer than ever before. He is temporarily interning with a math professor at Williams to stay near me while I finish up college, but we are still just trying to figure out this whole life thing, and we know that. We accept that. But it doesn’t matter because for now, and for as long as I can foresee, we have each other, and that’s what I truly value. Logan didn’t fix my life and I didn’t fix his, but he helped open a door in me, helped bring out the parts I’ve always loved but have lost within myself, like a favorite picture from childhood that gets swept under the carpet, and he gave me the courage to face everything that was wrong in life, starting with my parents.
I love him, and I now know I loved him from the instant our rivalry began. I wouldn’t really call it love at first because the hatred dominated the love for six long months, but it was always there. It was the driving force that made me so into our rivalry, that made me always want to be with him, to prank him, to insult him. Logan was always the one I needed, and I was always the one he needed. Now that we’re together, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend my time with. Plus, I’ve discovered, hot nerd boys are complete relationship material, so I’m essentially set for life.
Just thinking about Logan makes me smile yet again as I pull the notebook paper with the poem written on it completely out of my bag and place it on the table in front of me. I look at it for a long time, there, in my hands, the real freaking deal. And then, with a deep breath, I read it for the first time since I wrote it.
The night I wrote this poem, with Logan sleeping beside me, all of my emotions just flowed into it and the words naturally fell into place, and I immediately fell in love with it. The Road is the poem I wrote for Logan that night at the conference but never got to read to him, the one I was supposed to recite after he recited his, the one he has never seen with his own eyes. One day, I tell myself as I begin reading it. One day, I will show it to him.
One day.
So I read it, and the words bring me right back to that night, to the conference, to everything I have ever felt about Logan.
The Road
I’ve written plenty of poems before
but I don’t know how to start this
I don’t know how to say this
I just know that I have to.
Frost once said he never began a poem
whose ending he knew
because writing a poem is worth discovering
and that’s just like you;
I don’t really know if there are two roads in my life.
I don’t know if I get a choice
I don’t know if I make a leap of faith
but I do know it doesn’t matter.
My choice is you, Logan
and those two roads can go to hell
because the only road I want to take
the only road I need to take
is the one that ends with you:
laughing
smiling
loving me.
All along I’ve been searching
searching like everyone else
for a path to follow
for a place to start
for a way to be happy.
But all along, that was you.
You were my path
you were my happiness.
I guess sometimes in life,
the things you need most
can be right in front of you the whole goddamn time.
If you need help, get help.
You are not alone.
Call 1-800-273-TALK
or go to:
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR
Click to Subscribe
~
No matter how hard I try, I am pretty terrible at writing acknowledgements. I kind of want to thank EVERYONE, even the random stranger who looked at my laptop and told me my book looked pretty cool that one time, so this may be kind of a rambly mess.
First, I should probably thank my poor friends and family whose names I’m struggling to remember after spending the last two months buried in this book. I promise not to secretly plot Two Roads in my head the next time we have a conversation.
To some of the best beta readers and supporters ever: Stephanie at Romance Addict Book Blog, Tessa at Gutter Girls Book Review, Christine at Rainy Day Reads, and Janice at The Demon Librarian.
And who can forget to thank Emily Tippetts for the awesome cover? I love it. Thank you, Emily, for putting up with me and my demands and for doing such a fantastic job.
A huge shout out to all of the amazing bloggers who supported me along the way, namely Jessica at Just a Booklover, Jen at Imperfect Women, Maureen at The Scarlet Siren, Jenny and Gitte at TotallyBooked, Ellie at Love N. Books, Ava at Book Nerds Anonymous, Kayleigh at K-Books, Michelle at Blushing Reader, Chris at Chris’ Book Blog Emporium, Tiffany at The Novel Tease, Lisa at A Life Bound By Books, Aseel at My Crazy Book Obsession, Maria at Maria’s Book Blog, Shaina at Candy Coated Book Blog, Anitra at Can’t Read Just One, Kristy at Book Addict Mumma, Lisa at Three Chicks and Their Books, Hafsah at IceyBooks, Melanie at YA Midnight Reads, Eileen Li at Singing and Reading In The Rain, and Kim at Shh Mom’s Reading, and to authors Rebecca Berto, Helen Boswell, Beth Michele, Katy Evans, Lauren Blakely, Leigh Ann Kopans, Cheryl McIntyre, Karli Perrin, and Adriane Boyd for the pep talks and laughs. Special thanks to Holly at Holly’s Hot Reads, who has been the best supporter of my writing ever. She even baked a cake inspired by Click To Subscribe! And I guess Kat, Ava, and Dana need their own category here, so: as annoying as you guys (often) are, you can be pretty entertaining at times. Thank you for keeping me smiling even when this book made my brain implode.
And really, awkward tacklehugs to anyone who read/reads Click To Subscribe and Two Roads. You guys rock my world. Thank you for giving me the courage to publish my books and for making all of this possible.
~
L.M. AUGUSTINE is the romance author of Click To Subscribe (YA, May 2013) and Two Roads (NA, August 2013), and he is obsessed with writing about weird characters, love, and happy endings. When he’s not writing, he doubles as a dessert-loving 007. Or something like that.
Email: [email protected]
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Copyright © 2013 by L.M. Augustine.
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All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Afterword
Other Books by this Author
Acknowledgements
About L.M. Augustine
About the Book Designer
Copyright Notice
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Afterword
Other Books by this Author
Acknowledgements
About L.M. Augustine
About the Book Designer
Copyright Notice
Two Roads Page 25