Dad smiles. “We have to adhere to head counts like everyone else. We just have the five spots.”
My heart skids to a halt.
“Five?” Anthony takes a loud breath that sucks all the air from the room. Must be why I can’t breathe. He looks at me. “Five?”
My eyes flicker to his face. I only get as high as the tic pulsing in his jaw.
“Grant Ellison will be joining us,” Mom explains. “You must know him from the project. Mai confirmed it just yesterday.”
Anthony’s smile is stuck as he looks from my mom to me. “She did, huh?”
“Before the pool party,” I say pointedly. We were done. Over.
“And you’re still going with Grant?” His eyes are locked on mine.
“With the family,” I say. “He’s going with the whole family.”
“I guess you were too busy today to say anything to him?”
Another fork settles on a plate. Mom and Dad are looking between the two of us.
It’s Ethan who says what they’re thinking. “Why would she say anything to Grant? And why shouldn’t they be going together?”
“That’s a good question.” Anthony wipes his fingers on his napkin. “That’s a great question. You got an answer, Mai?”
My mouth is desert dry. I take a sip of water.
“Is there something going on that we don’t know about?” Mom asks.
“Another good question.” Anthony shoves his chair back so he can face me. He tips his head as if to say, Answer her, Mai.
I stare back a warning. He’s going to ruin everything over a dinner that doesn’t matter.
“So, Mai is being shy, I guess,” he says. “The thing is we’ve been hanging out.”
“Hanging out?” Mom repeats. “What does that mean?”
“It means dating,” Ethan says incredulously. “You’re dating my sister?”
“It must be a misunderstanding,” Mom says. “If Mai were dating, we would know about it.” Her frown deepens. “Wouldn’t we?”
“Mai?” Anthony says. My head pounds harder. It’s hard to get a breath, hard to slow down my heart enough to think. I need to explain. If he would just give me a second to figure out how!
“Your mom just asked another question.” His voice has an edge of anger now. “You going to answer this one, Mai?”
Ethan throws down his napkin. “Don’t talk to my sister like that. Who do you think you are?”
Anthony throws down his napkin a second later, his eyes snapping. “I’m her boyfriend.”
There’s a split second of silence. Then the echo starts.
“Boyfriend?” Ethan, disgusted.
“Boyfriend?” Dad, disbelieving.
“Boyfriend?” Mom, softer. Betrayed.
They’re all staring at me as if they don’t know who I am. “You’ve been lying to us? For months?”
Tears hover behind my eyes.
“It seems we have a lot to talk about,” Dad says through tight lips.
“And it seems that Mai and I have said everything we need to.” Anthony stands. “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Senn. Mr. Senn. I’ll let myself out.”
“Anthony.” I stand.
“Maya,” Dad snaps. “Sit down.”
I hesitate, frozen as Anthony walks away. The door slams behind him, jolting my heart back in motion. I can’t let him go. Not like this. I rush across the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”
“Mai! Don’t you—”
The rest is lost when the front door swings shut behind me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Anthony
“Anthony, wait!”
I hear Mai calling as I rev my engine. I was trying to decide whether to bang my head against the wheel or do something I’ve never done before and cry on it. Now she’s standing by the passenger window and she’s beat me to the tears. It shouldn’t matter—I shouldn’t care. But that’s the problem. I let myself care too much. Wasn’t it bad enough to lose my dad? I had to take my heart and wrap it around someone else who was going to tear it to shreds?
She reaches for the door handle, but I get out before she can. We’re not doing this in my car. Not again. I face her with the hood between us, glancing back at her house.
“No one is coming out,” she says as if she knows what I’m thinking.
“Yeah? So why did you?”
The heat of asphalt rises up, fumes of gas poisoning the air between us. As if everything between us isn’t already poisoned.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracks. The tears flow harder. The normal straight line of her bangs is ruined, the look of control gone. I want to hold her. I want to shake her. I want to go back to spring break and never meet her so I will never feel like this again. I ask the only question that matters.
“Why didn’t you tell them? Why couldn’t you say the words?”
Tears run to the corners of the mouth I kissed last night when I thought things had changed.
“All day I’ve been thinking about you, Mai. I made that necklace with you in my head, in my heart.” Her eyes flash to mine, and I let her see what I’m feeling. How deep it goes. “I researched pollution so I could talk about something your family cared about. I came over with a gift for my girlfriend. My girlfriend. And you couldn’t even admit we’re dating.”
“We were going to go slow,” she says, as if that explains it. “We had a plan. And it was working. They liked you, Anthony. In a week, I would have been gone to California. I would have told them you were visiting. Your brother lives in California. We could have done this. See how it worked.”
I scoff, blinking hard to clear my eyes. “And you wouldn’t have had to risk a thing, would you? I could’ve stayed your secret. You could go to the dinner with Grant, the anointed one.”
She lets out a gasp, eyes sparking with sudden anger. “What about you? What have you risked? I saw that look on your face when my dad brought up the grant. A hoop for you to jump through. A string to tie you down.” Her voice shakes, but it also grows in strength. “You know what it means to be a part of my life, my family, but you want everything on your terms. You don’t want to make any concessions. Any commitments. I’m supposed to change my future when you won’t even think about yours.”
“Like you’d ever change your plans for me.” I smack my hands on the hood of my car. “Be honest, Mai. Your parents were never going to approve, and you were never going to go against them. I could jump through a million hoops and there will always be some guy like Grant who could jump through more.”
“I don’t want Grant.” Her eyes collide with mine, shining with more tears. “I want you. That’s why we came up with this plan. And you just went and wrecked it.”
“I wrecked it?”
She shakes her head. Takes a breath. “I wrecked it, too.”
Something glimmers behind her. The blinds moving on the front window. Her parents watching. Or maybe Ethan. She turns, following my gaze. The blinds slide back into place.
She faces me, new tears hovering dark on her wet lashes. “Is it…is it wrecked for good?”
I rub a hand over my eyes, but it’s not the lowering sun that’s making them burn. She’s watching me, waiting. It hurts to look at her. “I want to trust you. I want to believe that it’s me you want. And when we’re together, I do. I think you believe it, too. But as soon as you go in that house, your family’s going to talk you out of this. Out of me. And you’re going to let them.”
Her mouth trembles. “I won’t!”
“Sorry.” The word is flat, the gesture of my hands—empty. I’ve got nothing else to give. I don’t trust her. I can’t let myself. It’s too hard, letting someone in and then waiting to lose them again.
“It’s over, Mai,” I say. “Wrecked…broken.” I shrug. “I can’t weld it back together.” I force a final smil
e, but it’s weak, and I need to go before I lose it. I climb into my car, pull on my seat belt, and ease down the road. I’m not sure how long she stands there. I’m done looking back.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mai
Mom and Dad are standing by the door when I come in.
“It’s over,” I say. I move to walk around them.
“Wait one minute.” Mom holds up a hand. “What exactly is over?”
“What exactly has been going on?” Dad adds.
I need Josie right now. And possibly a good cry. I can’t do this with them. I can’t be perfect-daughter Mai and listen to a lecture. Not now. “Can I please go to my room? We can talk later.”
“We’ll discuss this now,” Mom says.
Discuss. It’s not going to be a discussion. I draw in a breath. I know they’re upset. I know I messed up, and I need to apologize. I want to make it okay. I will want to. But right now, I’m so overloaded that I’m mostly numb. My voice sounds almost robotic as I begin, hoping to get it over quickly. “I met Anthony over spring break. We hung out. I broke it off. We met up again at graduation. Started hanging out. He asked me to be his girlfriend last night. I said yes. We broke up today.”
“You’ve been hanging out?” Dad asks. “When?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “At night.”
“You said you were at the library.”
Might as well tell them everything. “I met him there. And then we went out.”
Mom lets loose a startled noise. She paces away and then back. “You’ve been lying to us.”
“Did you do your research at all?” Dad wants to know.
Is that what he cares about? My research? “Not much.”
“You not only let us down,” Mom says, “you let yourself down.”
Dad nods. “You are not to see that young man again.”
I blink at him. “I just told you. We broke up.”
“You also told us you were going to the library, and do not take that tone with us.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. My shoulders hunch. My head feels too heavy for my neck. I feel like I’m folding into myself, turning back into a little girl. Their words keep coming. I hear it all through a fog.
“Did you think this through at all? Your future depends on the actions you take right now.”
“You are jeopardizing your future over a crush.”
“You lied to us. Repeatedly.”
“You were not raised that way. That is not who you are.”
“You are a Senn. We thought that meant something to you.”
Finally, they stop. I can feel them waiting for me to say something. “It does,” I say. “Of course it does.”
“Then show us with your actions.”
I know what they want. I’ve wandered off again, and now I need to find my way back. Their words are supposed to show me the way, squeeze me back onto the narrow path I’m meant to follow. They’re counting on me to make the smart decision. The way I always do.
The way Anthony knew I would.
The thought stabs me with shame.
“You will go with us to the fundraising dinner. You will represent your family as a Senn, and we will put all of this behind us.”
I nod. “Can I be excused?”
They exchange looks and then clear the way for me to pass. “Think about what you’ve done,” Dad says. “How you can repair the damage. You’ve lost our trust.”
I move past them, nodding because I know I’m meant to. But it feels like I’ve lost a lot more than that.
I close the door behind me. I pick up the lipstick on my desk and drop it in the trash. Then I crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, and cry.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mai
“Most people don’t know this,” Ben says, his voice rising as it always does before he shares a bit of wisdom. “Bee populations are quite high in our desert. There are over a thousand species, and some of them are Africanized.”
“Really?” Amber doesn’t even pause from raking. “How fascinating.”
That’s become her standard response over the past few days. The rest of us ignore him, and Anthony isn’t here to glare him into silence. He hasn’t been here all week. On Monday, Amber told the group that Anthony decided to shift to another project for the last few days.
I decided that was good. It’s easier to get over the whole thing if he’s not here. In fact, it’s Wednesday, and I hardly even think about him anymore. I mean, I sometimes think about him to remind myself that I’m not thinking about him, but does that really count? I’m definitely nearly completely over this. I’ve been busy thinking about many other things. College. Summer camp. What to pack.
My rake hits the dirt with a heavy clack. I’ve struck a rock, and the vibration aches up my arms. Tears spring to my eyes. I cry much easier these days. I really hope I get over that quickly, too. I can’t start crying every time I see a dead mollusk or whatever it is we’ll see at camp. Really not a good look for one of America’s Next Gen of Greatness—an actual list I made in the fall. I cried last night during Sense and Sensibility. Another sappy Jane Austen movie that Josie forced on me. I actually cried when Alan Rickman carried Kate Winslet in from the rain and finally she loved him and not that dolt John Willoughby.
Josie pretended not to see, but she got up and brought back two spoons and a gallon of pralines and cream, our go-to for drowning all things sad.
“You sure you’re doing the right thing by not seeing Anthony?” she asked.
I thought about that way too long as I chewed through a candied praline.
She propped her feet on the coffee table. “I could text Garrett to text Cooper to text Anthony.”
“What are we? In high school?”
“Not for the past two weeks.” She dug her spoon back into the carton. “But some methods are timeless.”
“No,” I said. “It’s over. It’s for the best.”
Now, all I need to do is focus on other things.
Grant stops mid-rake, turning to me, and I realize I’ve been muttering out loud again. At least he doesn’t ask if I’m okay for the hundredth time. He’s finally picked up on the fact that I’m not quite myself this week.
Or maybe I am myself. Maybe I forgot who I was, but now I’m back.
Me-Mai lives again.
My back muscles are complaining with every sweep of the rake through dust and rock. This is the finishing touch for this trail, and my body is thankful. All that’s left for tomorrow is to set up new trail signs created by the city. Friday, Amber tells us, will be a donut day on the mountaintop, along with photos and a video tour for the CC website of what we’ve done.
We only have a short stretch of trail left today, though it’s hard to tell with all the dust we’ve created. It feels like I’m covered in the stuff. My shirt, soaked through with sweat, is a deeper brown color.
You can’t wear oatmeal and not expect to make me wild.
I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to remember our teasing. Our touching. I dig the rake back in, churning up dust as I replay Sunday’s dinner, like a killer returning to the scene of the crime. My throat is clogged with guilt. I should have spoken up. I’m an enormous, spineless coward. Worms could stand up taller than me, and they have no legs.
But what if I had spoken up?
Anthony said he wanted to be with me, but for how long? How was he going to stick around while I went through four years of undergrad? Two or three years of grad school? He’s right. I did want him to change for me. I wanted him to apply for the grant, to go to college, to be sensible and logical so I could say to everyone, “I’m not making a mistake.”
I wanted him to be someone he’s not.
I smooth the patch of trail I’ve just dug up, and when I straighten to stretch out my shoulders, I realize
I’m alone. I glance around. The sun has finally topped the mountain ridge, chasing away the shadows. The ridge glimmers with patches of green and brilliant sparks of purple flowers. Something rustles up higher on the trail, branches scraping rock as something moves. Snake?
I let out a breath. I’m alone. On a trail. I wait for the rush of panic, and…and I’m not scared. Well, I wasn’t until I started thinking about it. But my pulse is moving at an easy jog—not heart attack pace. And it’s because of Anthony.
Something glitters to my left, and when I look, I see sunlight sparking colors off shattered glass. Some cretin breaking beer bottles down the mountainside. Then I realize I’m looking at the rock hop trail.
My feet shuffle forward, picking out the path Anthony led me down. It’s only two switchbacks to reach our boulder. Maybe my brain has vacated the premises because I follow the sketchy trail to the spot where I stood with Anthony. The sprig of flowers is still tucked under the rock, but the flowers are wilted.
Nothing lasts.
My gaze slowly travels down the face of the mountain. I can’t see the trail, but it’s there. It’s there if I’m willing to take the risk.
“Mai?”
I look up. Grant is at the top of the trail, a khaki-covered model with his hat pulled low over one eye and his teeth flashing white against tanned and dust-streaked skin. “What are you doing down there?” His boots kick up more dust as he follows my path.
“Contemplating bravery.”
He smiles as he reaches me, tucking hands in his pockets. “Hiking down a sketchy trail doesn’t make you brave.”
“It does if you’re afraid of doing it.”
“Some things you’re meant to be afraid of.” His smile fades. “What’s going on, Mai? This have something to do with Anthony?”
I shrug.
He pulls off his gloves and uses them to sweep the boulder clean of dirt and leaves. As if I’m not already covered with the mountain. He sits, scooting to one edge to make room.
I sit beside him, the rock not exactly comfortable but still nice. There’s a faint buzzing. Africanized bees? But otherwise, it’s quiet. The ridge rises and falls, clear blue sky painted above it. I feel like I could be on a postcard for happiness.
How to Quit Your Crush Page 18