So Much Closer

by Susane Colasanti

  “I didn’t know you were still angry about this.”

  “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? And that thing with Justine? What was that?”

  Dad’s eyes get huge. “What thing?”

  “I saw you, okay? I know you guys were ...” There’s no way I can say that I saw them kissing. It’s just too disgusting.

  “I don’t know what you think you saw, but nothing happened with Justine.”

  “Why are you lying? I said I know.” I feel all shaky and gross. I hate this.

  Dad rubs his hands over his face. He knows he can’t deny it.

  “Why am I even here?” I say.

  “You asked if you could stay with me.”

  “That’s the only reason? Because I asked?”

  “Of course not. You know I invited you several times. You’re always welcome here.”

  “What’s the point? You’re never home.”

  Dad starts to say something else, but I’m not interested. I go to my room and collapse on my bed, exactly where I collapsed after I got back from the Scott and Leslie sandwich shop debacle.

  I have a new wish for my wish box. Just once, I wish I could know what it feels like to trust someone completely and not have them disappoint you.

  Twenty-four

  After the fight with my dad, I had to get out of there. I quickly threw a change of clothes and some essentials in my bag. There was no way I’d go back tonight or before school tomorrow. Then I called Sadie. When her mom told me she wasn’t home, I decided to walk around until she got back. Dad didn’t even try to stop me when I left.

  I want to run away into the night and never come back. Take a train to anywhere. Find a better life.

  My rage burns. I could totally walk all the way back to New Jersey. I could walk around all night. I hardly even feel how cold it is with this fire blazing inside me. I stomp from sidewalk to sidewalk, not looking around the way I usually do. I don’t look up. Looking up is for people who still have hope.

  When I’m walking at night, I’m usually all about the city lights and buzzing energy and excitement over everything around me, the repeated realization that I’m part of it all. But tonight, staring down at the sidewalks, I’m noticing how dirty they are. And how everyone’s garbage bags are piled up on the curbs instead of in garbage cans. A huge rat is rummaging through one of the garbage piles like he owns the place. It’s not like I didn’t know that scuzzy parts of the city existed. I’ve just never really noticed them before.

  I pass a homeless guy digging through a garbage can on the corner. Suddenly, being here isn’t so exciting anymore. This place is depressing. People sleep on the streets because they have nowhere to go. It’s like we’re living in some inhumane world where no one cares about anyone else. People break into apartments or mug people right on the street. Girls get raped, or even killed. Anything could happen to me out here.

  The homeless guy is watching me. We’re the only ones around. This is one of the gorgeous, quiet streets I love. But tonight things are different. There’s nothing to love about being eyeballed by some sketchy dude rooting through the trash.

  It’s time to go.

  I call Sadie on her cell, but it goes straight to voice mail. Her mom said she’s at a random-acts-of-kindness event and might not get home until late. I can’t wait that long. So I make a snap decision about where to go. It might be the worst decision I’ve ever made, but I know it’s somewhere safe.

  The High Line looks spectacular at night. The trees are all illuminated. Everything always seems so peaceful here, like no matter how horrible life gets you can always count on this.

  John’s mom answers the door. I met her one time when we were out here for tutoring. A crazy downpour suddenly started and we made a run for John’s place. It was so comforting inside. John’s sister Hailey immediately asked me a million questions even though we’d just met. We all ate warm chocolate chip cookies and watched the rain.

  “Hi, Mrs. Dalton,” I say. “Is John here?”

  “He should be back in a minute. I sent him to the store for milk.” Mrs. Dalton steps aside. “Come in, come in, get out of the cold.”

  “Thanks.” I’m relieved to be in their warm living room. That comforting sensation from the last time I was here is right here again.

  Hailey comes out of her room to see who it is.

  “Hey, Brooke!” she squeals. “I haven’t seen you in forever. What did you get for Christmas? I got this awesome bracelet I wanted and two Cranium games—Wow and Hullabaloo—and this art set that real artists use. Look at our tree! Want to see the ornaments I made?”

  “Okay, why don’t we let Brooke take her coat off?” Mrs. Dalton says. “Would you like a hot chocolate?”

  “That would be perfect,” I tell her.

  “Hailey, please put out another mug for Brooke.”

  Hailey runs off to the kitchen.

  “Sorry she’s a bit hyper. Hailey’s dad sent her a huge tin of maple sugar. I was rationing it out, but she found my hiding place earlier.”

  “That’s okay. I get hyper, too, sometimes.”

  Mrs. Dalton laughs. “I’ll hang up your coat—want to put your scarf with it?”

  “Thanks.”

  “As soon as John gets back with the milk, I’ll put the hot chocolate on. Hailey should be okay about not having any. I’ve already explained to her that she’s reached her sugar limit for the week.” Mrs. Dalton takes my coat. Then she says, “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for John. It’s really made a difference. He seems to be understanding things in a new way that’s working for him.”

  “That’s awesome. I’m glad I can help.”

  “You definitely are. Whatever you’re doing, please keep up the good work.”

  Mrs. Dalton is one of those super informed moms. John told me all about her. She’s a child psychologist who has all these connections within the school system. In a way, John’s lucky. Because his mom has money and knows the right people, he gets the services he needs. Like how he has a private tutor on top of the help he gets at school. If Mrs. Dalton wasn’t so dedicated to John’s success, he probably wouldn’t be so amazing.

  Hailey races back out to the living room. Actually, I think it’s called a great room. It’s just one big space with enormous windows along the wall, looking out over the High Line.

  “Come see my ornaments!” Hailey yells, pulling on my arm.

  The first ornament that catches my eye is a delicate, clear dove with white feathers and glitter.

  “I love this one,” I say.

  “I didn’t make that one. I made this one.” Hailey shows me a star. “And this one.” An angel. “And ... wait, where did it go? Oh, here it is—this one.”

  “They’re pretty.”

  “So are you. Did you know that John likes you?”

  “What?”

  “I’m back!” John yells, closing the door behind him. His coat is half off and he’s unwrapping his scarf when he sees us by the tree.

  “Sorry I didn’t call or anything,” I say. “I really needed to come over.”

  John unwraps the rest of his scarf. He takes his coat off. He’s wearing a thermal with a T-shirt over it. His shirt has the outline of a water tower and says LOOK UP.

  “Is it okay that I’m here?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Just let me give this to my mom.”

  We watch John take the deli bag to the kitchen. Then I whisper to Hailey, “He likes me?”

  “He totally likes you,” she whispers fiercely. “You’re like all he talks about.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since you met.”

  “Why didn’t—”

  “So what’s up?” John says.

  It takes me a second to get my thoughts together. Is Hailey right? Does John like me? I never saw our relationship that way at all. I was just happy that I could actually be friends with a boy who didn’t have some ulterior motive. It was easy to tell if boys liked me back home. Some of th
em ran game, but they were always transparent.

  “Can I talk to you?” I say.

  “Let’s go to my room.”

  Hailey is struck by a fit of snorting laughter.

  “Don’t snort out a tonsil or anything,” John advises.

  “Ew! Why do you have to be so gross?”

  “I’m a boy. We’re all gross.”

  Last time I was here, I didn’t really see John’s room. He has one of those rooms where you know exactly who it belongs to. Flyers from trivia nights at The Situation Room are taped over his dresser, where two Rubik’s Cubes are sitting. His closet door is flung open. Clothes are scattered everywhere. I recognize a bunch of his hoodies, some hanging up, some on the floor. There’s a black poster of a burnt, red stapler with smoke coming out of it. Along the bottom in yellow it says, I BELIEVE YOU HAVE MY STAPLER.

  The thing I’m most impressed with is a huge photo of New York City at night taken over our neighborhood. It has glittery gold streets leading downtown, midnight purple water surrounding the edge of Manhattan, and New Jersey lights shining in the distance. The Twin Towers stand proudly over everything.

  “I love this poster,” I say.

  “Thanks. I knew you would.”

  “I had a really bad fight with my dad. I can’t go back there. I know you’re mad at me, but do you think I could stay here tonight?”

  “You know you can.”

  “Sweet, thank you.”

  “That’s part of the problem. You know I can’t say no to you.”

  “Um ... I wasn’t sure if it would be okay. I could go if—”

  “But what pisses me off the most? Isn’t even about me. It’s about how you can disrespect yourself and not even care. You have this amazing gift that you’re just throwing away. I wish I had even one shred of your talent. Stuff that takes me hours to figure out comes so easily to you, like it’s nothing. Don’t you realize how lucky you are? It’s like ... why are you doing this to yourself? You could be so much more than you let yourself be. You are so much more. Why can’t you just let yourself be the real you?”

  I’m completely blown away. I have no idea what to say to all that. Hailey must have been right about John liking me. Why else would he care so much?

  “I didn’t know that’s why you were mad,” I say. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

  “I’m not mad. I’m disappointed. There’s a difference.”

  “Can—”

  “No, wait. I am mad. I’m mad that from the second I saw you, I knew I wanted to be with you, but you didn’t feel the same way. It really felt like you came here for me, but you actually came here for Scott. Then suddenly, it’s all about him and I’m like, Where did this guy come from? I couldn’t believe you asked him to go to Strawberry Fields with us.”

  “Wait. Sadie and I were supposed to go alone, but then you said you wanted to come. It’s not like it was originally the three of us.”

  “Dude. I’m the one who asked Sadie to set the whole thing up. I asked her to ask you to go. And the next thing I know, you’re hanging all over Scott right in front of me. I couldn’t stand it. I even had to get off the subway early. And that time on the roof when I tried to hold your hand? You didn’t even notice. That’s ... I really thought we were connecting. Then I find out you liked Scott the whole time.”

  “Wow.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “This is ...” How could I have been so clueless? John is the first boy I’ve ever misread. I wasn’t even sure if he liked girls. He never talked about any. And I never asked because I assumed it was part of his life he wanted to keep private. This is not at all what I expected.

  John coughs. “I sort of wish I could take back everything I just said.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me.”

  “Really? Won’t things be weird now?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  There’s no way I want John out of my life just because he likes me. As long as it’s not weird for him, I’m cool with it. Actually, I’m extremely thankful that John is in my life. He’s such a good friend. It’s obvious that he wants me to be the best version of myself. He’s helped me realize my potential in a way my mom never could and my dad is never around to encourage. While Mom shoots me down and keeps saying how much of a disappointment I am, John picks me up. He helped me figure out what I want to be. He motivates me to care. He’s helping me way more than I’m helping him. He always makes me feel better, even if all we’re doing is discovering new water towers or walking around, looking up.

  So how incredible is it that John was able to do all of those things without telling me how he felt? It must have been really hard for him to put my needs before his own. And that makes him even more amazing than I realized.

  “It’s funny how you wore that shirt tonight,” I say. It’s like John somehow knew I’d need to come over. I can’t remember what he was wearing in tutoring before, but it wasn’t this. This, I would have remembered. “It’s new, right?”

  “Yeah. I had it customized at that place on MacDougal.”

  “Is being friends going to be weird for you?”

  “Probably. But I’d rather get used to it than lose you. Want to know what my autumnal equinox resolution was?”

  “Okay.”

  “To find a way to make you realize that we belong together.”

  Shut. Up. I am totally sticking that in the Of Course file. Because of course that’s the same resolution I made about Scott. I remember that day on the High Line, seeing it for the first time, overwhelmed not only by the beauty of it but by John connecting with this city the same way I do. I remember the sunset we watched. And I remember how relaxed I felt with him.

  John could not be farther from relaxed right now. He’s a total wreck. He’s been pacing around his room, picking random stuff up and throwing it back down.

  I feel horrible. “I’m really sorry about this,” I apologize.

  “Don’t be. You either feel it or you don’t.”

  “I love spending time with you. I don’t want that to change.”

  “No change necessary. Let the record show that life will resume as usual.”

  “Cool.”

  “Sorry for all that crap I said about how you’re disrespecting yourself. You know how I get when I’m ranting.”

  “You know what? You were right. I needed to hear it.”

  “Happy to be of assistance.”

  John is incredible. If I were him, I wouldn’t be able to even look at me, much less keep being friends with me. But we still feel like Brooke and John, same as always.

  Sitting next to one of John’s Rubik’s Cubes is an origami unicorn. It looks familiar, except that it’s painted purple and has sequins for eyes.

  “Is that ... ?” I go over and inspect the unicorn. It was folded from a take-out menu. “Didn’t I make this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t remember giving it to you.”

  “That’s because you didn’t. I borrowed it.”

  “You borrowed it?”

  “More like stole it. Semantics.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you mad?”

  “No, it’s okay. You know I make tons of these. But why would you want it?”

  “I don’t know. It dropped out of your bag and Hailey likes unicorns, so I brought it home for her. She’s the one who decorated it, not me.”

  “I assumed.”

  “Because I’d use googly eyes instead of sequins.”

  “It’s cute.” Hailey glued a satin ribbon on its tail. She also put blue glitter on its horn.

  “Oh, it’s not only cute. It’s purple, it’s sparkly, and it’s a unicorn. What more do you want?”

  I want to ask why the unicorn isn’t in Hailey’s room, but John’s been through enough for one night.

  When we go back out to the great room, Hailey’s not there. She’s shut herself in her room. With the space all to ourselves, I take in how vast it is. J
ohn’s so lucky to live here. And he’s the best kind of lucky—he appreciates what he has.

  I look out the big windows. Surrounded by city lights and purple sky, the enormity of being here hits me all over again. It doesn’t matter if I can’t figure out which way I’m from. All that matters is that I made it to the other side.

  This journey wasn’t about being with some boy. It was about discovering who I am, realizing what I could be. Moving to New York City was more important than following Scott here. Being with him felt like everything to me. But he was just a catalyst. He was a way of keeping my dream alive. I built him up as someone who would be the answer to everything I wanted.

  He’s not that boy. No boy is. No one can be everything you want them to be.

  The only person I can count on is myself. It’s up to me to create the life I want. I can’t blame my parents or Scott or anyone else for the way things are.

  Now that I know where this life is going, it’s time to decide how I’ll get there.

  Twenty-five

  “Your SAT score from ... let’s see ... November was almost perfect. That means colleges will be more lenient about your grades,” the college advisor explains.

  There was only one college advisor for like 3,000 students at my old school, so after I took the SATs for the first time last May she never called me in or anything. But every senior was required to take the SATs again this fall and now things are different. This advisor is the real deal. She’s helping me put together a list of colleges I can actually get into. When I signed up for an appointment with her, I didn’t realize how nervous I’d be.

  “You have lots of options,” she says. “Would you consider going out of state?”

  “I don’t think so. I really love it here.”

  “Well, there are plenty of colleges in the city that could work for you. You have a low C average overall, which is close to what most students graduate with. And your recent improvement is a good thing. The only problem is that most of the application deadlines have passed. But you’ve already applied to a few and we can find some more with later deadlines. There’s always community college to fall back on, although I’m sure you’ll be accepted somewhere decent. And if you maintain at least a three point eight your first two years, you can transfer to a much better college junior year.”