“I don’t have much to say. I barely had a chance to know him, but after he died, I started having nightmares. My mom thinks it’s because I knew something had changed and it scared me. I don’t know if that’s the real reason, but I still have them. I’ve had them all week, actually.”
He cocks his head to the side, and I can tell he’s thinking about when he woke me up on Tuesday morning and it was clear I’d just had a nightmare.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asks.
“Honestly, I thought you’d make fun of me.”
He frowns. “I wouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, I know that now.”
“I used to think you had it easier because it was just you and your mom,” he says. “You never had to worry about hearing your parents argue all the time. Does that sound weird?”
“No,” I say. “It doesn’t.”
“I’ve done so many things in my life just because my parents wanted me to,” he says. “But art belongs to me, it’s my thing. I just want them to understand that.”
“Of course they will,” I say. “They love you. But first you have to tell them.”
He sighs. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Don’t doubt yourself.”
He gives me a small smile, and once again my eyes fall to his lips. When I get goose bumps, I convince myself it’s because of the chilly breeze.
“We should head back,” he says, standing up. I stand, too, and he shakes the sand out of his hoodie and hands it to me. He calls Geezer, and then we make our way back inside.
Eli walks me upstairs and we pause in front of the guest room. I give him his hoodie back.
“Thank you for staying,” he says.
“Of course.”
We stare at each other. The last time he thanked me for something, we were standing face-to-face just like this. That day, I was waiting for a drawing. Now I’m waiting for something else. I almost kissed him earlier today, and he almost let me. The ball is in his court.
He leans forward, and I hold my breath. He’s about to kiss me. It’s really happening. I close my eyes and angle my face toward his.
He does kiss me. But not on the lips. On my cheek.
This will forever be marked as the day that I nearly died of embarrassment and disappointment.
Maybe we’re just meant to be friends. That’s better than being enemies.
I just need to learn to be okay with it.
“Good night, Chlo,” he says.
I force a smile. “Good night, Eli.”
* * *
I’m dreaming. It’s a good dream. Eli and I are finally kissing. He pulls away and whispers my name. I don’t know how long it takes me to realize that he’s whispering my name in real life. I open my eyes, and he’s standing in the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, sitting up. The time on my phone says it’s 12:32 a.m.
He walks over and crouches beside the bed. He looks anxious. “I have to tell you something.”
“Tell me what?” I glance at the hallway, nervous that his dad will wake up and catch us in the same room. “What’s wrong?”
He takes a deep breath. Then: “Do you always sleep with that on your head? You look like a baker.”
I readjust my bonnet. “Is that what you came in here to tell me?”
“No, no.” He shakes his head. “What I want to say is that there’s a reason I asked to be your date to Homecoming.”
I go completely still. “What?”
“There’s a reason I asked to go to Homecoming with you,” he repeats. “And there is a reason I gave you that drawing that day at your locker, and there’s a reason I could have easily taken a bus or a train to my dad’s, but I asked if you would give me a ride instead.”
My heart pounds as I absorb his words.
“I like you,” he says. “I’ve probably liked you ever since you stuck your hand in that bush for my house keys. You didn’t even cry when you cut your arm.” He pauses. “I know I was an asshole for tricking you into doing it.”
“You like me,” I repeat, not quite believing what’s happening.
“Yeah, and when you told me you were going to the dance, I kept picturing you dancing with someone else, and I didn’t want that to happen, so I asked if I could go with you, even though I hate school dances, because they never play any good music, but you were going, and you said I could be your date, and I was happy, but then I fucked it up. I should have told you earlier tonight, or yesterday, or—”
“Eli, stop,” I say. “I like you, too.”
He pauses, blinking. “You do?”
“Why do you sound so surprised? I almost kissed you earlier! I thought it was obvious!”
“It wasn’t obvious!” He frowns. “Or maybe it was. I don’t know. I was mainly focusing on the fact that you were letting me hug you.”
I shake my head, smiling. “You’re so oblivious.”
“I know,” he says softly.
He moves closer, bringing one hand up to cup my cheek. Time slows. I don’t move as he leans down so that his lips are level with mine. We stare at each other, transfixed.
“Chlo,” he says, “can I kiss you?”
I nod slowly. Then his lips are on mine. They’re soft and taste surprisingly like vanilla. We stay still with our lips gently pressed against each other. Then he brings me closer and kisses me deeper.
This is what it feels like to kiss Eli Greene: floating higher and higher until I land on another planet.
We pull away and smile at each other. It’s almost like if one of us speaks the wonder of this moment will disappear.
“I noticed something,” he finally says. “You haven’t twitched your nose in, like, three days.”
“That’s because you haven’t done anything to annoy me.”
He laughs. “Can I sit next to you?”
I make room for him, and we sit shoulder to shoulder. He reaches out and takes my hand in both of his. Now I finally know what it’s like to hold his hand for real.
I lay my head on his shoulder. Just as I’m beginning to fall asleep again, he says, “You have to come visit me in San Francisco.”
I feel myself smile. “And you have to come visit me in New York City.”
“Okay. But Geezer has to come, too.”
“Of course he does. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Chapter 25
Eavesdrop
THURSDAY
When I wake up in the morning, Eli is gone. It’s the first night this week that I haven’t had any nightmares. I lie in bed for a few minutes, remembering how natural it felt to kiss him, to hold his hand.
I get up and open the bedroom door, planning to head to the bathroom, but I stop short when I overhear Eli and his dad arguing downstairs in the living room.
“Art school?” Mr. Greene says, his voice booming. “Are you out of your damn mind?”
“No,” Eli replies calmly. “I’m not.”
I back up and flatten myself against the wall. I don’t know why I do that, since neither of them can see me at the top of the stairs. But I know this is a private conversation that isn’t meant to be overheard. I should shut myself in the guest room until they’re finished, but I don’t move. Even though Eli doesn’t know I’m standing here, I want to support him. Geezer trots through the living room and plops down at the foot of the stairs. I take a further step back so even he won’t notice me.
“What do you think you’re going to do with an art degree?” Mr. Greene asks. “You think you’re going to sell paintings and earn enough to survive? I’ll be the first to tell you that crap isn’t realistic. That’s the problem with your generation. You want everything in the world, but none of you want to work for it. If you think I’m going to take care of you and pay your bills for the rest of your life, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not a painter,” Eli says. “I won’t be selling any paintings.”
I jump when I hear my phone vibrating on the bedside
table in the guest room. I close the door so they won’t hear it, too.
“Then what is it, exactly, that you plan on doing?” Mr. Greene asks.
“I don’t know, Dad. That’s why I’m going to art school, so I can figure it out.” Eli pauses. “I was thinking I might get a couple of my sketches printed on some T-shirts and sell them. Maybe on hoodies, too.”
Mr. Greene scoffs. “T-shirts and hoodies. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No, I’m not kidding,” Eli says, his voice slightly rising. I’m worried that he’ll get angrier and their conversation will escalate into a shouting match. But, instead, Eli says, “Here … just look at this. Please.”
He must be handing over his sketchbook. It gets quiet, and I hear the sound of pages turning. I wish I could see Mr. Greene’s expression right now.
“It’s obvious how much work you put into your art, Elijah,” Mr. Greene says, “but being an artist doesn’t guarantee stability or security. This is something you can do on the side. It shouldn’t be your main focus. You came down here so we could visit UNC, and that’s what we’re doing.”
“This is my life, and this is what I want to do,” Eli says earnestly. “Can’t you respect that I’m trying to take responsibility for my future? You’re always pushing me to grow up and be a man. Now you have to let me try and be one.”
Mr. Greene sighs loudly. “Elijah, you—”
A crashing sound interrupts him. I dash back into the guest room to find that my phone vibrated its way onto the floor. Reina is calling me. I completely forgot to call her after my audition. I close the door and call her back.
“Don’t be mad at me,” I say when she picks up.
“Chlo, oh my God, where are you?”
“I’m at Eli’s dad’s house. Why?”
“What?!” she shrieks. “Why aren’t you on your way home? Your mom is going to kill you!”
“No, she’s not,” I say slowly. I have no idea why she’s freaking out. “She doesn’t fly in until Sunday evening. I’ll be home by then.”
Reina pauses. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you haven’t talked to her yet.”
The way she says it makes my stomach drop. “No. What’s going on?”
She inhales deeply. “Okay, so your mom called me, and I started to act like I was my mom, but she told me she knew I wasn’t my mom because she went to my house looking for you, and my parents told her neither of us had been there all week!”
“She’s home?”
I feel like I can’t breathe.
“Yes! I don’t know what happened! She came back early for some reason. I called you as soon as I found out, but you weren’t answering. Your mom is so freaking scary I couldn’t even come up with a good lie!”
“Oh my God.” I scroll past my missed alerts from Reina and see missed calls, texts, and voicemails from Mom. “Oh my God.”
“My mom is gonna kick my ass once I get home,” Reina cries. “She said I impersonated her and that I should go to jail! I’m her daughter, for Christ’s sake!”
The room is spinning. Mom is home. She knows I’m not with Reina. “I have to call you back.”
I hang up and read all of Mom’s texts.
Hi, baby. We’re on our way home from the airport. Jean-Marc got food poisoning, so we flew back once the cruise stopped in the Bahamas. You’re probably still sleeping. Give me a call when you wake up.
Just left you a voicemail. We’re in an Uber on our way home. Meet me there?
The next few messages all came within the span of fifteen minutes.
Are you and Reina at her house? I’ll stop by and take you to breakfast.
Just got home. Call me when you get this.
Chloe, baby, pick up. I’m worried. I’m going to drive over there.
You lied to me?! Mrs. Acosta says you haven’t been there all week! Where are you? Call me back ASAP!
Chloe, this isn’t a game. Call me back right now!
She calls again as I’m reading her last text. I freeze. I know I have to answer because I don’t want her to think something terrible happened to me. But I’m afraid. My hands are shaking so badly I almost drop my phone. I take a deep breath and try to get it together. But no deep-breathing techniques will prepare me for this conversation. I answer the phone before I chicken out.
“Mom, I’m safe. I’m okay. I’m—”
“Where are you?!”
“I’m in—”
“You’ve got me ready to call the cops! How could you lie to me like this? Reina has been at camp! Where are you?”
I gulp. “I’m in North Carolina.”
“WHAT?” she yells so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “What the hell are you doing in North Carolina?!”
A few days ago, Eli said he thought Mom hated him, and I told him that wasn’t true. I hope she doesn’t start to hate him today.
“I’m with Eli,” I say. “We’re at his dad’s house.”
“Eli?” Bewilderment cuts through her anger. “Linda’s son?”
“Yes.”
She’s silent. Then: “I’m coming down there to get you.”
No, no, no. “Mom, you don’t have to come get me. I’ll leave right now.”
“No, I’m coming to get you like I said.”
“If you come pick me up, then how will we get my car back to New Jersey?” I ask. She pauses, and I take my chance to swoop in on her hesitation. “I can drive back. I’m leaving right now. I swear.”
“You’d better leave right now and have your behind back here today. Or else I will come down there and bring you back here myself, and I won’t care about leaving your car there since you can’t be trusted with it anyway. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I frantically start shoving everything in my duffel bag.
“I am so disappointed in you, Chloe.” She doesn’t sound angry anymore, just sad and tired. She adds, “Please drive safely.”
Then she hangs up.
I can take her being mad at me. I expected that. But I didn’t expect her to be disappointed. That brings on an entire new wave of guilt that settles deep in the pit of my stomach. She wasn’t supposed to find out this way. I was supposed to have time to figure out how to tell her the truth.
I shove on my Chucks and throw my bag over my shoulder. When I walk downstairs, Eli and his dad are still in a heated argument. They pause and look at me in surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Eli asks, crossing the room in quick strides. Quietly, he asks, “Why are you crying?”
I wipe my cheeks, startled. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. Mr. Greene stares at us, concerned. Eli takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says.
“My mom knows where I am.” A sob threatens to escape, but I take a deep breath and hold it in. “I have to go home.”
His eyes get huge. “Shit. Shit. Fucking shit.” He runs a hand over his face and groans. “Of course this week would end with me getting you in fucking trouble.”
“Wait, what are you talking about? None of this is your fault.”
“Yes, it is. I asked you to take me with you to D.C. I crashed your car. I’m the reason you had to come to North Carolina to audition. And now your mom’s gonna hate me more than she already does.”
“Stop saying that! She doesn’t hate you.”
He gives me a look that says bullshit.
“She doesn’t.” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince more, me or him.
“I’m coming with you,” he says. “I’ll get Geezer. I’ll tell my dad we have to leave because of an emergency or something.” He starts to turn away.
“No, you need to stay.” I grab his arm and pull him back toward me. “You can’t leave things like this with your dad.”
He shakes his head, but he doesn’t verbally deny what I’ve said. “I’m not going to let you drive all the way back to Jersey by yourself. You’re scared of the damn highway!”
“Well, i
t’s about time I got over that fear. I drove here, didn’t I?”
“I’m leaving with you,” he insists. “I can come back and see my dad another time. Just give me a few minutes to pack my stuff. Fuck, I need to make sure Geezer uses the bathroom.”
“No.” I jump in his way. “You’re staying. I’m leaving. End of story.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” He narrows his eyes. Of course we choose right now of all moments to argue.
Then I realize we might not have many more moments for stupid arguments. Mom will probably ground me until Eli leaves for college.
I quickly reach out and hug him close. At first, he’s surprised, but then he wraps his arms around me. I take in his fresh-laundry scent, the slight hint of cigarette smoke. I’ll think about this during the eight-hour drive back to Jersey.
Oh my God. Eight hours.
“Please stay with your dad,” I say, pulling away. “He needs to understand why art school is so important to you, and I don’t want to be the reason that you decide to leave. I’ll be fine, I swear.”
He sighs. It’s heavy and full of reluctance. “I don’t like this.”
“Me neither.” I make myself smile in hopes that he’ll worry about me less. “But don’t be so dramatic. I’ll see you in a few days.”
He smirks, but his eyes look sad. “I might see you if they don’t lock you up for driving so slow on the highway.”
“Shut up.”
I punch his shoulder lightly. He catches my fist in his hands and cradles it in his palms. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
* * *
Mr. Greene is confused by my abrupt departure, but he gives me water bottles and snacks for the road. He makes me promise to call and check in every few hours.
Eli walks me to my car, and Geezer trails happily behind us, no doubt thinking it’s time for another adventure. I bend down and scratch behind his ears as Eli places my bag in the passenger seat. Geezer closes his eyes and lets his tongue hang out of his mouth.
I give him one last good scratch. “Who would have thought we’d become friends, huh?”
Geezer whines when I get in the car and don’t open the back-seat door for him.
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