How to Quit Your Crush

by Amy Fellner Dominy

“Boeuf Bourguignon.”

  “Yep.” She grins and takes another bite of pizza.

  I face the mirror again. My hand plays with the tube of lipstick. The one I threw out and then retrieved. And then threw out. And then retrieved.

  “That’s the fifth time you’ve done that.”

  “Done what?”

  “Picked up that lipstick. Run your fingers over it in a very creepy way.” She stretches out her long legs, tapping the rubber soles of her sandals together.

  I shrug at myself in the mirror. It’s a very convincing shrug, if I do say so myself. “How is touching a tube of lipstick creepy?”

  “Because you’re not touching it. You’re caressing it. You’re giving it looks like you want to smooch kisses all over it.”

  “For the record, a smooch is a kiss.”

  “For the record, you’re full of crap.” She raises her eyebrows. “You’re wearing the most beautiful dress. Your hair is so shiny even I want to touch it, and the last time I saw you look this miserable was the day of your SATs. You hadn’t slept for almost a week.”

  My shoulders slump, and I realize my muscles are tired from trying to hold them up. “It’s only been five nights,” I mutter.

  “You miss him, Mai. And, by the way, you’re doing it again.”

  I drop the lipstick tube I didn’t even know I’d picked up. “Oh Lord. I am caressing it.” I spin to face her. “I did the right thing. The smart thing. So why does it feel like I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life?”

  She picks off a slice of pepperoni and chews it thoughtfully. “Not everything makes sense. Some of the best things in life don’t make sense.” She drops the half-eaten slice back in the box and wipes her fingers on an already crumpled napkin. “Consider pizza. It’s round, and it comes in a square box. And we cut it into triangles. Does that make sense?” She stands and joins me at my vanity. “Pizza also happens to be awesome.”

  “So pizza is why Anthony and I should be together?”

  “It makes as much sense as you wanting to be with someone just because they have the same major or choose the same college.”

  I’ve spent all week building a protective wall around my heart. It seems to be made of clay, because it’s crumbling. “I miss him, Josie.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She leans against my vanity, crosses her arms over her chest. “Does he know?”

  “I haven’t talked to him since we broke it off on Sunday.” I lean beside her. “I texted him yesterday.”

  “Yeah?”

  “To wish him a safe trip. He didn’t reply.” I swallow, shame warring with misery. Misery wins out, and I tell Josie the rest. “I drove to his house last night.”

  “You what?”

  “I parked down the street. Walked over. The garage door was closed. The porch light was on, but I couldn’t tell if he was there or not. I don’t even know if he’s gone.”

  There’s a hitch in Josie’s breath. The kind that a best friend recognizes as words being swallowed. “What? Tell me.”

  She tilts her head, obviously still hesitant. I squeeze her arm. “Josie!”

  “Garrett said there was a farewell party at the pool last night. Anthony’s planning to leave tonight after it cools down.”

  My heart starts to pound. Tears gather. It’s after six o’clock. Outside, the shadows are lengthening. “So that’s that.”

  “Mai.” Her voice is soft. Tentative. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.” I swallow, a swirl of acid burning its way through my stomach. “I just feel bad that I didn’t stand up for him. And I’m sorry I ever called him lazy and unambitious. I judged him unfairly so many times. I want him to know that. And I want him to know that I’ve never wanted to run the bases with any other guy but him.” I look up and find Josie’s eyes a little shiny, too. My voice trembles as I say, “I want to tell him that when I say I like him, I might really mean that I love him.”

  “Oh, Mai.” It’s Josie now with the lipstick in her hands, turning it over and over. “What about your parents?”

  The knot in my stomach winds tighter.

  My eyes stare back at me in the mirror. Brown, the curved shape a clue to an Asian background. Light brown skin that suggests a mix of races but not which ones. Black hair with hints of russet—even that a mix of unknowns.

  I was an unknown until I became Maya Senn. I felt like Cinderella transported into a magical life. But in the fairy tales, no one ever asks Cinderella what life is like as a princess. Is she happy? Does she like being royalty? Because there are rules. Obligations.

  Expectations.

  Just the thought feels like a betrayal to my parents. How can I want more than what I have? How can I want something—someone—who will disappoint the people who gave me this life? Who gave me everything?

  I’m so afraid to disappoint them. I’m so afraid of so many things. I never realized it until Anthony. With him, I’m brave. I try things. I take risks. I explore—not just the world, but myself. It’s not that I’m myself with him. It’s that I’m more parts of myself with him. I’m Maya Senn, valedictorian, Honor Society, child prodigy. I’m also Killer. The girl who said yes to pool chicken, and Reptile Houses, and tacos from a truck, and the idea that different paths can still lead to the place I want to go. In my heart, I know there isn’t anywhere I can’t go with him.

  My gaze moves to the lipstick in Josie’s hands. Anthony’s lipstick. He is a blaze of color in my life. How can I go back to black and white?

  “I know I should be sensible,” I say. “But how is it sensible to send away the person who makes me more myself?”

  Josie shakes her head. “It isn’t.”

  “How is it sensible to give up the person who makes me brave? Who sees more in me than even I did?” I pause as tears work their way down my cheeks.

  She hands me the lipstick. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell me. Maybe you should tell him.”

  I turn to the mirror and smooth on Brilliant Red. There I am. The Mai I am. The Mai I want to be.

  Me-Mai.

  I set the tube down and square my shoulders. “First, I need to tell someone else.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Mai

  My parents are in the living room. Mom is working on one of Dad’s cuff links. They look elegant—like royalty. The king and queen who made me a princess. And they’re good people, too. It would be easier if they weren’t. If I hadn’t grown up wanting to be just like them.

  “Maya.” My dad catches sight of me and smiles. “Don’t you look lovely.”

  I tug up the elbow-length black gloves—another Audrey Hepburn touch. “Thank you.”

  Mom gives me a smile and goes back to the cuff link. “Ethan should be down in a minute. The car is already out front.” Every year, Dad hires a town car to drive us. That way we arrive in style, and my parents can drink champagne without worrying about the drive home.

  “I spoke to Amber,” Dad says. “She told me what a pleasure it was to have you on the crew.” His smile fades. “She told us Anthony switched to another project. We, well…” He pauses.

  Mom finishes attaching the onyx link and tugs Dad’s shirt so exactly two inches show beneath the coat sleeve. “We appreciate how you’ve responded to all this. We know we were hard on you Sunday. But it was out of concern. We’re proud of you for getting back on track.”

  Oh Lord. I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t be proud of me. I mean…” I open my eyes and my mouth, fighting for the words I need to say. “Be proud of me but not for that. For being on a track.”

  They’re staring at me now, confused.

  My heart beats a sharp tattoo against my ribs. My hands twist, turning my gloves into a wrinkled mess. “I’ve been so afraid.”

  “What do you mean?” Dad’s eyes are concerned. I want to memorize that look
in case it’s the last time I see it.

  “I was trying to catch up to you. I thought you’d gone ahead.”

  For a second, they both look at me blankly. Mom is the first to figure it out. “You mean the day you got lost?”

  “Ethan said I shouldn’t run off. But I wasn’t trying to do that. I was just looking for Dad.”

  “We’ve been through this, Mai,” Dad says. “It was a misunderstanding. Mom thought you’d run up ahead to be with me. I thought you were back with Mom.”

  “It took you so long to find me.”

  “We had no idea where you’d gone. We ran up and down the trail dozens of times. We were as panicked as you were.”

  The first tears spill over along with words I’ve never been able to say before. “But you weren’t. Were you?”

  Mom and Dad exchange a look. Surprise? Guilt? It’s Mom who asks, “What are you saying, Mai?”

  But I only have eyes for Dad. “I heard you. After you found me. You were carrying me down. You thought I was asleep. You said, ‘That ought to teach her a lesson.’”

  “Mai!” Dad’s face pales.

  I turn to Mom. “And then you said, ‘She’ll never run off again.’ And you were right. I never have.”

  “Mai. Honey.” Mom reaches for me, but I hug my arms around my middle. “Those were just words. A way of finding a silver lining in a horrible situation. We would never have left you on purpose. How can you even think such a thing?”

  “My birth mother left me. My father left me. Why wouldn’t you leave me, too? You could get another baby who wouldn’t run off.”

  “Never.” Dad steps forward and wraps his arms around me. I didn’t realize how icy my skin was until I feel his warmth. “You’re ours, Maya.”

  “What if I disappoint you?” I cry into his shoulder. “What if I’m not perfect?”

  Mom moves to my other side, and she rubs the bare skin of my upper arm. “We love you. No matter what. We didn’t mean to suggest you had to be perfect. Mai, you should have told us how you were feeling.”

  “I don’t think I really understood how much it’s all affected me until now.” I take a shuddering breath. “Until Anthony.”

  Mom’s hand tenses. Dad is careful as he lets me go, but he still lets me go. “See?” I say. “I’m disappointing you and you’re pulling away.”

  “We’re not,” Mom says. “Not in the way you mean. We can be disappointed and still love you the same.”

  “I hope you mean that.”

  “We do.”

  “Because I’m going to disappoint you both. A lot. Right now.”

  “You’re doing what?” Ethan steps into the room. His eyes widen when he sees my face. “What is it? What happened?”

  I lick my lips, tasting my tears. “I’m not going to the dinner. I need to see Anthony.”

  “WHAT?” Mom and Dad say in perfect harmony.

  “Tonight?” Ethan adds.

  “Now,” I say. My eyes plead with them to understand.

  “Is he pressuring you?” Mom demands.

  “No!” I say. “He won’t even answer my calls or texts. And he’s leaving town. Tonight. He might already be gone. I have to talk to him before he goes.”

  “Mai, you haven’t thought this through,” Dad says. “You’re leaving in a few days yourself. Maybe Anthony isn’t responding for a reason. Maybe he’s doing this because he knows it’s best for you.”

  “But it’s not what’s best. It’s your version of what’s best.”

  Dad shakes his head. His jaw is set, and I know his mind is, too. “This is something we need to talk about. And we will. First thing tomorrow. But tonight, we are all going to the dinner.”

  I start to tremble. It moves from my knees to my hands to my lips until I feel as weak as a leaf caught in the breeze. But I’m not weak. Anthony has shown me that. He’s helped me face the things I fear, and I can face this, too. I look around the room. At my family. The only family I’ve ever known. “I want to be a Senn. I want to be one of you. But I want to be myself, too. All parts of myself, even the parts you don’t understand.”

  There’s a sudden loud knock on the door.

  Mom checks her watch. “That’ll be the driver. We really need to go. All of us,” she adds, looking at me. “We love you, Mai. And we promise to hear you out tomorrow.”

  “But you’re not hearing me now!” I pick up my purse. “I’m sorry. I have to do this. I love you all. But I love Anthony, too.”

  The silence is deafening. My parents look stunned. When I think back on this, I have a feeling I’m going to be stunned, too. I’m not just wandering off the path—I’m rocketing off it.

  Over a cliff.

  Into an abyss.

  I grab the car keys.

  The only thing that scares me is that I might be too late.

  They’re still staring as the door closes behind me.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Mai

  I break every speed limit. In the movies, it looks exhilarating. In real life, it’s frightening. I force myself to slow, but I’m going too fast down Anthony’s street, and the tires squeal as I turn sharply and bounce up his drive. His car is here.

  His car is here!

  And then Anthony is rushing out the garage door probably thinking an eighteen-wheeler wrecked on his drive with all the noise I made.

  I step out of the car, breathing hard, as a woman follows Anthony out. His mom. She’s in a tank top and jeans, her hair in a ponytail. She looks really pretty. Except for the frown and the way she crosses her arms over her chest.

  “That’s her, isn’t it?” she says.

  Anthony nods, and my attention shifts back to him. I frown when I get a closer look. His pants are blue. Shiny, electric blue. Maybe it’s a camping thing. A dad thing. I realize I’m not the only one staring—he’s staring at me, too. I’m so nervous right now I don’t know if it’s a good staring or not. Self-consciously, I smooth a hand down my dress. I’m still wearing my gloves, too. I probably look like a stuck-up elitist pompous smarty-pants. Those are some good adjectives.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Anthony says. “You’re supposed to be at the dinner.”

  His voice is harsh. I flinch, rubbing my brilliant red lips together. What did I expect? I was awful to him at my house. Why should he be happy to see me? “Can we talk? Please. I have something to say, and then I’ll go.”

  He shakes his head. “No, you—”

  “Yes,” his mom interrupts. “He’ll hear you out.”

  Anthony turns to his mom, and she pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll be inside.”

  The door closes behind her, leaving the two of us. Not the best setting. Me, standing on his driveway. Him by the trunk of his car, things piled so high in the backseat, I can see them through the window. My pulse ticks up. There’s no time, but I need it. Need to think of exactly the right thing to say.

  I meet his eyes, and the world narrows. This is Anthony. I don’t have to be perfect. I just have to be honest.

  My fingers wind into knots. “I messed up. I should’ve—I shouldn’t have…” I shake my head, start again. “You were right. About everything. I was scared. I’ve been scared since the day I got lost on the trail. I just didn’t know it.” My bangs ripple with the release of a breath. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore. So I’m here.”

  His expression is uncertain. “What about your parents?”

  “I told them I had to see you.”

  “Yeah?” Disbelief colors his voice.

  Why should he believe anything I say? “That’s why I’m here.” I step closer and reach for his hands. He slides them in his pockets, angling away from me. Panic jumps in my chest. I rush to fill the silence. “I asked you on Sunday if we could be fixed. But you don’t have to fix us, Anthony. I’m going to do it.
I’m not going to the dinner.”

  “Mai—”

  “Let me finish.” I yank on one of his arms until I pull his hand free. I clutch it between mine because I always feel stronger when we’re connected. I lace my gloved hand with his, holding tight. “I’m going with you instead. Up north or wherever you’re headed. I don’t care if we camp in the middle of nowhere or if there are snakes or coyotes, and I don’t care that the idea of coffee out of a rusted pot makes me think of tetanus.”

  His fingers slide over mine like he can’t help himself. “You only get tetanus from cuts.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I grab his other arm and take possession of that hand, too. He’s looking down at our hands, and so do I, inching so close that I can rest my forehead against his chest. “You’re not who I expected or who I planned for. You’re not my parents’ choice. But you’re my choice.” My breath shudders out. “I love you, Anthony.”

  “You…?” He pulls back, his mouth slack.

  I squeeze his hands, wishing I could crack open my ribs and show him so he’d believe me. “I have an intense feeling of deep affection for you,” I say. “I looked up the definition.”

  His eyes turn shiny, but there’s still doubt there. I can feel it pushing between us. I’ve always been good at arguing points for an assignment. But now, when it’s real and when it matters, I’m coming up blank. “Anthony,” I try again. “I know I’ve said things before and I didn’t follow them up with actions. So this time, it’s not just words. This time, I’m proving it. I’m not going to the dinner with my family. I’m going camping. With you.”

  “No.” He shakes his head as if the word wasn’t sharp enough. “You and I are not going camping.”

  I lower my head so he can’t see a burst of new tears. I just dumped my heart all over him. Now I have to scoop up the pieces, shove them back inside, and—

  “Mai. Hey.” His voice softens. He lifts my chin with a finger, his dimple making a sudden appearance. “I love you, too.”

  “You do?” I blink, confused, even as a wave of happiness rises in my throat. “You really do?”

  “I really do, Dumpling.”