Love, Life, and the List

by Kasie West

  My mouth opened, then shut. “Really? Those were your first guesses?”

  “You’ve never come in the house like that before. It worried me.”

  “I’m fine. Better than fine. Where is Grandpa?”

  “Outside.”

  I went to the kitchen and opened the back door. Mom followed. “Come inside, Gramps! I have an announcement that supersedes the health of your vegetables!”

  Grandpa went straight to the kitchen sink when he walked in the door and began scrubbing his hands with soap and water. “Is everything all right?”

  Okay, maybe I needed to work on my tone when making announcements. “Well, there wasn’t an earthquake,” I said.

  “Am I supposed to get that reference? Is that a young-person phrase for something earthmoving? Has your earth moved, Abby?” He turned off the water and dried his hands on the towel hanging on the oven.

  I laughed. “Yes. Actually, it kind of has. I got into the art show!”

  “What? You did?” Mom clapped her hands and gave me a hug. “I knew you would!”

  I hugged her back, then turned to my grandpa.

  Pride shone in his eyes. “Well, of course you did,” he said. “Am I supposed to be surprised?”

  “You don’t have to be surprised, but you do have to be happy for me.”

  “Done.” He gave me a bear hug.

  “I need to go email Dad,” I said, rushing to my room.

  I had just hit Send on my email when the doorbell rang. “Cooper is going to take me out to celebrate!” I yelled as I ran to answer the door. Cooper was there, fresh out of the shower. His hair was wet, his eyes bright with a smile. I threw my arms around his neck in a hug. He lifted me off my feet.

  “Congrats!”

  “Thanks. And thank you for doing the list with me.” It had given me insight into myself that I hadn’t expected.

  He set me down and I started to go inside when he grabbed me by the wrist. I whirled back around to face him.

  “I’m sorry for our stupid fight the other day.”

  “Me too.”

  “Can we both agree not to analyze each other’s brains again?”

  I nodded resolutely. “I’m fine with that arrangement.” I pointed over my shoulder. “Let me grab my shoes and we can go.”

  “Okay. I’m going to say hi to your grandpa and mom.”

  “Sounds good.” I went to my room and he went to the living room. I heard his greeting as I searched for my flip-flops in my closet.

  “It’s great news about Abby,” he said.

  “Yes, we’re proud, and so is her father,” Mom said.

  My father? I’d just barely emailed him. Had Mom called him too? I pulled out one polka-dot flip-flop but couldn’t find the other. I dug under a pile of clothes. I needed to clean my closet.

  “Me too,” Cooper said.

  “Where are you taking her?” Grandpa asked.

  “I don’t know. Milk shakes, maybe? She likes milk shakes.”

  “Aha!” I said as I freed my second flip-flop. I slid them onto my feet and went to join the others.

  “Have fun,” Mom said when she saw me.

  “Did you call Dad tonight?”

  She looked at the clock on the wall. “No. It’s too early there right now. I’ll let him know.”

  “But you said he was proud.”

  She smiled. “Of course he’s proud. He always talks about your art.”

  “Oh.” She just meant in general. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You ready?” Cooper asked.

  “Yep. Let’s go.”

  For a Sunday evening, the milk shake place was packed. We’d already been waiting in line for ten minutes when the bell on the door rang for the millionth time and a new group of people walked in.

  “Cooper!”

  Cooper’s smile stretched wide. “Ris! Hi.”

  She joined us in line, leaving her other group behind. “I thought you said you were busy tonight.”

  “I am. Abby had some good news, so I had to take her to celebrate.”

  I tried not to smile with this statement, but I couldn’t help it, and Iris noticed.

  “What good news?” she asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing big,” I said.

  “It’s really big. She gets to have her paintings in an art show at the museum. She’s the only minor in the show.”

  “Wow,” Iris said. “That’s great. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can I join you guys?”

  I should’ve said no. I wanted to say no. But how would that make me look? Like a petty best friend? “Um . . . yeah, that’s fine,” I said, hoping Cooper would turn her away.

  He didn’t. He put his arm around her and said, “Of course.”

  Maybe I was imagining it, but I could’ve sworn she was the one giving me a smug smile now. I turned my attention to the lit menu, even though I pretty much knew it by heart. Cooper and I had tried almost every shake combination they offered, plus some we’d made up. But looking at black words on a white board was better than watching Cooper nuzzle Iris’s neck.

  We finally made it to the front of the line and Cooper looked at me, then nodded to the menu. “Hey, remember the time we combined the—”

  “We are not doing that again.”

  “It wasn’t bad.”

  “It wasn’t good either,” I said.

  He laughed. “Fine. Do you want the—”

  “No, I want the banana pie shake.”

  “But you only like that if the bananas are the perfect amount of ripeness.”

  The guy behind the register raised his eyebrows when I looked at him.

  “Are they?” I asked him.

  “Are who what?”

  “Are the bananas perfectly ripe?” Cooper asked. “That means zero brown spots but zero green as well.”

  “I’ll find you a perfect one,” he said.

  Cooper nodded. “Then we’ll take one of those and I’ll have a brownie batter.”

  “That made you sick last time,” I said.

  “I’ve been conditioning my stomach.” Cooper, whose arm was still around Iris, said to her, “What would you like?”

  “Surprise me,” she said.

  Cooper hated that line. My smug smile was back.

  “Nope. Your taste buds are your own,” he said.

  She let out a short sigh, then asked the worker, “What’s your favorite?”

  “I don’t know. I like the cheesecake shake.”

  “Okay, I’ll try that one.”

  He rang us up, and we went to look for a table. All the ones inside were taken, so we were forced outside to the circular metal ones while we waited for our shakes to be made.

  Iris slid her chair as close as possible to Cooper, and he put his arm around her. Really? This was my celebration, but suddenly it felt more like I was the third wheel on one of their dates. I tried not to let it dampen my spirits. If Iris was going to be around more, I needed to make a better effort to get to know her.

  “What do you like to do?” I asked.

  “I like to bake.”

  “Bake? Like food?”

  “No, like kittens,” Cooper said, kicking my foot under the table. “Of course, food, Abby.”

  I scrunched my nose at him.

  Iris put one hand to her chest. “My dream would be to own my own bakery one day.”

  “That’s cool. Unlimited sugary treats is my dream, too.”

  She seemed to think I was mocking her or maybe not taking her seriously enough, because she said, “It’s not all about the food. I’ll need to figure out how to run a business too.”

  “Abby wants to see her paintings in museums around the world one day,” Cooper said.

  I said, “Speaking of museums, you can pick my mom up for the show on the twenty-first, right? I’ll have the car, plus it will help get her out the door.”

  “Of course.”

  “But don’t come right away. It will be too crowded.
Maybe like eight?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Why does he have to pick your mom up?” Iris asked.

  “Because she hates to drive,” Cooper said without missing a beat.

  And it was true, among many other things. She did hate to drive.

  Our order number was called and Cooper left to collect our shakes. I smiled at Iris and started to ask her what her favorite thing to bake was when she stopped me with, “I like Cooper.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “And you need to stop trying to sabotage our relationship.”

  “What? I haven’t been.”

  “It’s obvious you wish I wasn’t around. But it’s you who needs to step back and let him have a girlfriend. You scare away anyone he wants to be with.”

  How would she even know that? Had she been talking to Cooper’s past girlfriends? “And here I thought I was trying to be nice.”

  “We both know that’s not true. It’s obvious you’re jealous.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Wow. Okay. I’ll tell you right now that getting on my bad side isn’t a smart move.”

  She brought her smirk back out. “Ditto.”

  Cooper pushed the door open with his foot and came out carrying all three shakes. Iris’s face transformed back to sweet innocence. Mine did not.

  I collected my shake and stood. This was my celebration that she had butted her way into, not the other way around. “Cooper. Can we leave?” Please, don’t fail me now, Cooper.

  “What?” He had just sat down and taken a long drink. He looked between Iris and me.

  She gave him a pouty lip. “Don’t leave me here.”

  “Where are we going?” he asked. “Can Iris come?”

  I’d never done this to Cooper before, but I needed this right now. “Can it be just the two of us this time?”

  Cooper stood. “You came with friends, right?” he asked Iris. “They can take you home?”

  She waved her hand through the air like it was no big deal. “Yes, of course. Have fun.”

  “I’ll see you sometime this week?” he asked her. She nodded.

  “Thanks,” I said, hooked my arm in Cooper’s, and led us back to his car, so relieved that he came with me that I almost broke down in tears. He came with me. He chose me over her.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  “Your girlfriend hates me.”

  “Girlfriend? I’ve only been on a few dates with her. Don’t tie me down yet.”

  They weren’t girlfriend/boyfriend yet? Interesting. “Well, either way, she hates me.”

  “She does not. I think she’s just intimidated by our friendship. She’ll be better once Justin and Rachel are back.”

  “She told me to back off.”

  He laughed, like this was something to laugh about. “That’s so cute.”

  “It didn’t feel cute. It felt threatening. Like she was going to try to tear us apart.”

  “You probably misunderstood her.”

  “I didn’t. But whatever. Let’s not talk about it.”

  “Let’s go make a sand castle on the beach.”

  “It’s too dark.”

  “I have two flashlights in the car.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “How come your castle looks so professional and mine looks like a shoddy contractor built it?” Cooper asked as I used a small stick I’d found to carve windows.

  “I can’t help it that I’m awesome.”

  Cooper’s foot shot out and collapsed the right tower of my castle.

  I gasped. “You did not just do that.” He was on his knees leaning over his castle, so I jumped up and landed right on top of it, the damp sand squishing between my toes. Cooper grabbed me around the legs, causing me to collapse onto his shoulder. He picked me up and spun me around. I pounded on his back but couldn’t stop laughing.

  “All the blood is going to my head. Let me down.”

  He did, but I was dizzy, so I fell to my hands and knees and then flung myself onto my back. I’d need a shower after this to get rid of all the sand that was now in my hair.

  Cooper, who stood over me, poked my ribs with his foot. “I’m proud of you, Abby.”

  “For what? My amazing sand-castle-building skills?”

  “You know what for. You worked hard. You put yourself out there. You deserve it.” He held his hand out for me and I let him help me to my feet, where he pulled me into a hug.

  We stood like that, staring out at the waves rolling in, for several long perfect moments. “Thank you,” I said. And in that moment I knew I had to try. I had to put myself out there in another way too. Maybe it would change everything. Maybe, like I knew I’d feared all along, I’d lose him as a friend and nobody would speak to me again and I’d be alone. Or maybe, just maybe, things would change for the better.

  That night, still high from my time with Cooper, I texted Lacey: You’re right. Things do change. I’m ready to try with Cooper. Will you help me figure out a plan?

  She texted back right away: Absolutely.

  TWENTY-SIX

  The next week passed by quickly in a flurry of gallery showrooms to lay out and invitations to send. I’d seen Cooper for a couple of hours here and there, but without the list directing our every move, we were back to our normal routine of lazy beach days and Friday night movies and milk shakes on the pier. Lacey had told me to hold off on any admissions while we concocted a brilliant plan.

  Now, with only a week left until the showcase, I sat on the floor of Lacey’s bedroom, scheming. She held a notepad in her hand. “This is like a play I once saw,” she said.

  I sat next to her, staring at the blank page, feeling like it represented exactly how I felt. I had no idea how I was going to win Cooper over. It wasn’t like I was going into this with no history. Would he still react the same way? It didn’t matter. I had changed. I wasn’t going to run away from something because I was worried it would make things different any longer.

  “A play you once saw?” I asked.

  “Yes, it was about a girl and a clueless guy.”

  “And did it end well?”

  “Let’s not talk about the play. This is real life.”

  “So it didn’t end well?” I asked, widening my eyes.

  She waved her hand through the air. “Oh, you know, typical dramatic ending: death, destruction, heartbreak. But anyway, the point is that she had to show her clueless boy what he was missing.”

  I decided to ignore her horrible comparison and asked, “How do I do that?”

  “First you have to make him miss it.”

  “Huh?”

  “Today is Monday. The art show is Sunday. That is six days from now.”

  “Yes.”

  “You can’t see Cooper until the art show.”

  “Why not?” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone that many days without seeing Cooper.

  “A boy has to miss that which he doesn’t know he desires before he realizes he desires it.”

  “Sounds . . .”

  “Completely logical.”

  “I was going to say, sounds like a lot of head games.”

  “Cooper needs a few head games, obviously. You tried the straightforward approach. Time to try something else.”

  “Okay, so no seeing him for six days.” That was going to be hard. Cooper just showed up at my house all the time. How was I going to avoid him?

  “Text him now. Tell him you’ll be setting up at the museum all week.”

  “I will be setting up at the museum all week. Starting tomorrow.”

  “There you go. No head games involved then.”

  “He’ll stop by the museum. He’ll bring me cheesecake or something.”

  “Why will he do that?”

  “Because he does that sometimes. We’re friends.”

  She growled. “Then you’ll have to keep a lookout for him and hide if you see him.”

  “This sounds complicated,” I said. I didn’t like complica
ted.

  “Love is complicated.”

  “That should be on a T-shirt.”

  “It probably already is.”

  I smiled and looked back at her notepad. She hadn’t written any of the plans we’d discussed. She’d just drawn two stick figures holding hands with a heart between them.

  “Which one am I?” I asked.

  “The shorter one, obviously.” She added a dress onto the stick figure’s body. “You need a new dress. A perfect dress. Something that will make him see you as a woman and not a girl.”

  I tried not to laugh, because I knew she was being serious. “That sounds like a line from a play.”

  “But it’s a true line, nonetheless. Let’s go shopping this week. When do you get off every day?”

  “Probably around sevenish.”

  “Okay, we’ll go tomorrow. That way I can be sure you’re not sneaking to see your addiction.”

  “I’m not addicted.”

  “One time I tried to give up caffeine,” she said, ignoring my statement. “I got a headache. I wonder if you’re going to get a headache this week.”

  Lacey may have been new in my life, but now I knew she was teasing me. I took the notepad from her and added a few embellishments to the dress she’d sketched—some small flowers along the neckline, pleats below the waistline, and pockets. I loved a dress with pockets.

  “When you can make a stick figure’s dress look nicer than anything I own, you’re a true artist.”

  I handed her back the notepad and she studied the dress.

  “No flowers,” she said. “We’re ditching the girl and embracing the woman, remember? But I like the rest. And it needs to be red.”

  “Red? I was thinking black.”

  “Trust me on this one. You are wearing red.”

  “Okay, so he sees me at the art show in my new red dress that makes me look more woman than girl and then . . . what?”

  “Then you tell him how you feel and you kiss him. You won’t be able to joke your way out of that.”

  “You want me to kiss him right in the middle of the art show surrounded by people?”

  “No, you don’t want an audience when you kiss him for the first time. It needs to be a life-changing kiss. A kiss that turns stubborn hearts.”

  “But no pressure,” I mumbled.