“Where’ve you been all week?” I demand. “All month? Since January?”
He grimaces. “I told you, I had to do stuff for my dad, and I’ve had family issues.”
“Really? That’s it? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we all have family issues. Me especially.”
“Well, I’ve been trying to take care of mine.” He moves closer, puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Which means avoiding me?”
One of the mothers looks up at us.
Royce doesn’t deny it. His mouth is a hard line. “I didn’t know what else to do. It’s complicated.”
“It’s complicated? Everything is complicated, Royce,” I say, pulling away so he can’t touch me anymore. “What does that even mean?”
Royce winces. I can see I’ve hurt him by not letting him touch me. “I came to find you,” he says. “To say I’m sorry that I haven’t been around, that’s all.”
“It’s a little too late for that. You know what bugs me about you? You think driving up in your car, pretending like nothing’s wrong, is going to make all of our problems go away. But I have no idea what’s going on with you. You haven’t been honest with me for weeks.”
“So now what? You’re breaking up with me?”
Am I? I consider what to say next. Part of me wants to end all of this right now. Burn it to the ground. Tell him I never want to see him again. Part of me wants to continue just so I can find out what hideous secret he’s hiding. Part of me wants to cry. Most of me continues to be stubborn. I’m my daddy’s girl after all.
“I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth,” I say.
Royce crosses his arms. “Like you were doing to me earlier,” he says. “Look, I’m not perfect, all right? I’m sorry I’m not the perfect boyfriend you want me to be.”
“Who said anything about perfect?” I say.
He shrugs. “You always have such high expectations. It’s hard to meet them sometimes.”
“What? Are you saying I set too high a bar for you?”
“Sometimes,” he admits.
“Sorry, but I guess expecting someone to be around for me when they say they care about me is too high an expectation for you,” I snap.
I look over at the park bench, where both mothers jerk their heads back down, realizing I’ve caught them watching us. Great. Now the neighborhood mommy circle will be gossiping about our fight all afternoon.
I decide to play hardball. “So why are you here? Are you back in town from D.C.? Or were you in Malibu? Don’t tell me, you went to New York for the week,” I curl my lip. “You’re always somewhere, but I never know where. But that’s okay, because you don’t have that problem, do you? You know where I am, where I’ll be. I’m just right here. Right where you can find me. That is, until they kick me out.”
Royce looks down at sneakers. Adidas Sambas that I picked out for him. Seeing them twists a knife in my belly.
“Jas, I haven’t been out of town. Like I told you already, I’ve just been under a lot of family pressure,” he says. “And hanging out with Mason and stuff.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, I have family too, you know. You’re not the only one with family,” he says unhappily.
“Don’t talk to me about family!”
He holds up his hands, frustrated, like he can’t do anything right with me at the moment, and he’s correct. He can’t.
“So that’s it? That’s your big excuse?” I say.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. I just wish you’d tell me what’s really going on.” Then I realize—he did tell me, but I have to read between the lines. He’s been spending time with Mason. Mason doesn’t like me, and when he hangs out with Mason, he can’t hang out with me.
Royce runs his fingers through his dark hair and pulls at the roots. “I’m trying. I hate this. I hate what’s happening to us.”
“Then stop it,” I plead. “Just please, tell me the truth. Mason doesn’t like me. That’s it, isn’t it? He wants you to break up with me. He doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”
“I told you, I don’t care what Mason thinks!” Royce says hotly. But he doesn’t deny it either.
“But it’s not just him, is it? It’s your parents too. They don’t think you should date me. You keep saying you’re under a lot of family pressure. Family pressure to let me go, isn’t that it?”
“No. No, that’s not it. No!” Royce says, a little desperately.
“Oh, come on, Royce, just admit your parents don’t think I’m good enough for you! You’re too embarrassed to take me to your dad’s events, and your mom thinks I’m practically the maid!”
“Whoa, what?” Now it’s his turn to be furious. “You’re crazy. Just the other day I overheard my mom telling Maria how much she likes you. And you know I hate those things my dad drags me to—why would I inflict the torture on you?”
“Your mom told Maria she likes me?” I blink.
“Yeah. She said she thinks you’re really smart, and that you work so hard.”
I go over what he said about how he hates being part of his father’s political social life, and I have to grudgingly admit he might be telling the truth about that too.
“Yeah,” he says, then gets angry again. “Wait, you really think that’s what my family is like? That they would think those things about you? God, you must think so little of us if you do. So little of me.”
If I’d started to feel a little mollified before, the rage comes roaring back. He does not get to win this one. He’s the one in the wrong. “Oh, come on, it’s not like you think much of my family either. Just a bunch of amusing ethnic people you don’t take seriously,” I say, practically spitting out the words. “You must feel so proud of yourself for being so liberal and open-minded.” I’m a cyclone of fury and will stop at nothing until he is utterly destroyed.
He’s just staring at me, but I’m not done.
“And what about me, huh? I’m just some booty call you can pick up with when it suits you! I’m your last priority, but what does it matter, right? I’m just some illegal! Isn’t that what you called me?”
He’s gray and quiet now, and everything is awful. I can feel it. It’s ruined. Something beautiful is ruined between us.
He’s tired—I can see that now—so tired, and I’m exhausted too.
“If you really think I’m that kind of person, then maybe we should break up,” he says finally, without any emotion at all.
My eyes are clear and so are his. Neither of us is crying. There’s nothing to cry about here. It’s just the end, and I’ve been waiting for it since we started anyway.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I tell him. “Maybe we should.”
30
Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
—ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPÉRY, WIND, SAND AND STARS
IT’S VALENTINE’S DAY and I don’t have a valentine. Instead, I’m leaning back with a gigantic bucket of popcorn on my lap, waiting for the movie to start. I haven’t seen Royce since our fight at the playground the other week. I’m still not sure who broke up with whom. Is it my fault? Or his? All I have are questions and no answers. It’s not officially officially over. Is it? How could it be over? I can’t bring myself to check if he’s changed his Facebook status. I still have all these feelings for him, and every time I look at my phone, I expect to see a text from him.
I can’t figure out if I’m heartbroken, because I’m just numb. I also know I wasn’t completely innocent here. I have to live with that. I insulted him, I insulted his family. I said all those awful things. I’d believed they were the ones looking down on me, but it turns out I was the one who was looking down on them. How
did we let it get so out of control? I keep replaying the argument in my head.
Why was I so angry? He’d been MIA, sure, but he’d come all the way out to see me. Why couldn’t I have just let it be? Why did I have to know what was bothering him and where he was? Why am I such a control freak? Why did I level those horrible accusations?
I don’t believe any of that about him, of course I don’t. I just wanted to hurt him. I hate myself right now, and I miss him. I miss him so badly I can’t taste anything.
Mom and Dad are worried about me, but I haven’t told them we broke up. Royce hadn’t been coming around a lot before this happened anyway, so it’s just status quo.
Now I’m sitting next to Lo in a dark theater. Julian is away on tour with his band, so she doesn’t have a date either. I’ve given up on Kayla. Everything hurts.
“I think you’re really going to like this movie,” Lo says, leaning over so I can hear her. I try to smile.
While waiting in line for the popcorn, Lo and I talked about her plans for next year. She’s going to do a gap year and travel, though she hasn’t decided where yet. Maybe Bali or Thailand. Or the Philippines. It’s funny. Lo wants to go on a crazy adventure to the exact place that I don’t want to go. Don’t get me wrong. The Philippines is an amazingly beautiful country, but I’d rather stay here with my family.
I let Lo pick the movie. It’s some dumb stoner comedy that I don’t really like that much. There are a few funny parts that I halfheartedly laugh at, but all I can think about is Royce, and how much I hurt him. I say the nastiest things when I’m angry, but I never mean them. I wish I could take it back.
Lo gets the sense that I don’t really like the movie and leans over to whisper in my ear. “Want to movie hop? This one is kind of a flop.”
I shake my head. “I’m not feeling very good. I think I might need to go home. I’m sorry, Lo.”
“That’s okay,” she says. “I’ll walk you out.”
I set the popcorn on the floor. I’m grateful Lo is so intuitive.
“I’m sorry I ruined your movie,” I say. “And our Galentine’s Day.”
“Don’t feel bad at all. That’s what friends are for.” She knows Royce and I are fighting, but not that we broke up. I haven’t admitted it, because telling someone would make it true.
We walk out of the theater together. The light nearly blinds me, and I have to squint to figure out where I’m walking. “You don’t have to wait with me,” I say to Lo.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Let me know how the other movie is...”
“Will do. Let’s do this again, Jas. I hang out with Julian so much, it’s nice to have a girlfriend to do things with sometimes,” Lo says, then disappears down the hallway to catch another flick.
I text my dad to pick me up. He writes back that he’s already on the way.
That’s when I look up and see Kayla come out of the bathroom. She’s wearing a flowing, silky top, short white miniskirt, and chunky heels. She’s obviously on a hot V-Day date.
I don’t move. It would look stupid if I ran and hid.
It takes a couple seconds for her to see me. She seems terrified. I expect her to run off, but she takes a deep breath and continues walking toward me.
I don’t smile. I don’t run. I don’t walk away.
She stops in front of me. “Hey, Jas.”
“Hey.”
“Listen, I know you’re mad at me.”
“Am I?” I don’t think I’m so much mad as just exhausted.
“Probably. I haven’t been a good friend lately,” she says. And that’s when I see him coming down the bathroom stairs. Kayla sees my face and instantly goes silent. It’s Royce, on the stairwell. I’d recognize his dark hair anywhere. Oh God. I can’t breathe. How can this be happening? This is a nightmare.
Wait! What?
It’s not Royce.
It’s his brother, Mason. Mason? What’s he doing here?
Then I put it all together. She’s with Mason. I have no idea when or how, but somehow Mason and Kayla have hooked up. Somehow she’s fallen for my boyfriend’s brother and dumped Dylan in the meantime. I don’t know whether to be angry or confused.
Was this the “family issue” Royce was talking about? But what did I care if his brother was dating my best friend? Why couldn’t he tell me? Why did it have to be so hush-hush?
Mason walks up, slick and smarmy. How can such a nice guy like Royce have such a slimy brother? How can they have come from the same parents?
“Isn’t this a surprise?” Mason asks, putting his arm around Kayla. I have to try really hard to keep myself from audibly groaning. “What’s up, National Scholar? Did you see anything good?”
What does Kayla see in him? I don’t get it. Dylan’s a prince compared to Mason.
“Haven’t seen you around lately,” he continues, looking me up and down. “You and Royce still an item? Or did you finally kick my stupid little brother to the curb?”
“He’s not stupid!” What an awful thing to say about Royce being dyslexic, as if Royce wasn’t so sensitive about it already.
“Only because he has more tutors than God,” Mason laughs. “Poor Royce, trying to keep up with his little honor student. I hope you don’t use very big words.” Mason grins. His teeth are perfectly straight and too white. It’s like he left his teeth whitener on for too long. “That’s okay. I told him a girl like you would get bored of a guy like him soon enough.”
Something he says stirs a memory in me.
That night in the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton in D.C., when I first met Mason, he’d been slimy, sure, but he’d been charming too. He was flirting with me, I realize now. Trying to put his little brother down in front of me. I’d thought he was insulting me, but it wasn’t me he was belittling. What had he said then?
My little brother doesn’t usually go after the smart girls. Hey, if you get bored of him, give me a call, will you?
Mason hadn’t been joking when he said that. He was trying to horn in, trying to pick me up, right in front of his brother, just to show Royce he could.
I thought Mason didn’t like me because I wasn’t good enough for Royce, but there’s something else going on here. Something gross.
I feel sick to my stomach, and I want to find Royce as soon as possible and make everything right between us again.
Call me, Mason mouths. You know where I live. Now he’s flirting with me in front of Kayla. How he can be related to someone as decent as Royce, I will never understand.
“Come on, Mason. Let’s go,” Kayla says. She glances back as they’re walking away, but I glare at her. I can’t believe she’s with that loser.
As soon as they’re out the door, Dad texts that he’s waiting in the parking lot.
I walk to the car and get inside.
Dad turns on the ignition. “How was the movie?”
“It was fine,” I say. I’m shaking. I have to see Royce. I can’t bear to be away from him for another moment. I text him.
jasmindls: I saw Mason and Kayla. Can you meet me? We need to talk. Please?
It feels like it takes forever for him to text back, but it’s really only a few minutes.
royceb: Hey. Where?
I answer right away.
jasmindls: Outside my house. I’ll come out to your car.
When we get home, I tell Dad that Royce is heading over and I’m going to meet him out front, because he and I need to talk. Dad knows I mean business, so he doesn’t argue. He’s tired anyway from getting up so early to drive buses. I can see it on his face. He’s weighed down by the upcoming hearing. I don’t even want to know what Daddy and Mommy are going through. When I get home, I get out and hug him, then lean against the car and wait for Royce.
* * *
When Royce arrives, he unlocks the passenger door so that I can open it. When I get inside, I notice that his hair is messy, and he looks like a little boy in his navy hoodie sweatshirt and long khaki shorts—like he’s wearing a school uniform. He’s sitting behind the wheel, staring out the windshield at our garage door as I climb in. I want to hold his hand, but I’m not sure if he’ll let me.
“So now you know the big secret,” he says dully. “They’re dating.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why you haven’t been around?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. Although, I guess that’s part of it.” He keeps staring out the windshield and doesn’t look at me. “I told Mason to back off, that Kayla had a boyfriend, but he never listens to me. And he likes a challenge. He got her number at the party somehow, and she started coming over. She asked me not to tell you. She said you’d hate her for not telling you first.”
“Huh.” I’m not sure I would hate Kayla, but she knows I don’t like Mason. I’m sure she didn’t want to hear me disapprove.
“So I didn’t tell you. And I was embarrassed about Mason. I hate that I brought him to the party and into your life, that he said those things to you, that he gave those little losers the idea to jump your brother.”
I don’t say anything. I look down at my raggedy fingernails, which have been bitten to the quick ever since we broke up.
“But that’s not really why I haven’t been around.” He takes a deep sigh. “I’ve been avoiding you because I’ve been interning for my dad since after Christmas break,” he says.
“You have? But why? I know you didn’t want to. You said it would be the worst,” I say, confused.
“Yeah, that’s why I couldn’t face you. I knew you’d think I was weak, and I couldn’t stand it if you did,” he says, a catch in his voice.
I recall what he’d said during our fight. I’m not perfect. You always have such high expectations. It’s hard to meet them sometimes.
I don’t say anything; I just listen.
He continues. “I thought if I gave in and did what he wanted me to do, he would feel better about helping you when I asked him to. That it would be easier to get his support.”
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