Adam:
Cherry there?
Jolene:
No. Meneik picked her up like five minutes after we got here.
Adam:
How much longer is the set?
Jolene:
An hour, I think. Then we’re going to Denny’s for pie. Yum.
Adam:
You having fun?
Jolene:
Sure. You?
Adam:
Not bad.
Jolene:
It’s too bad you couldn’t come. Are you winning at Xbox?
Adam:
That is the exact right way to phrase that, BTW. And yeah, still wish we could have rung in the New Year together.
Jolene:
And you could have met the guys!
Adam:
I was more thinking about kissing you at midnight.
Jolene:
That’s such a cliché.
Adam:
I’d call it classic.
Jolene:
I don’t know. I just saw a guy belch into his date’s mouth. You’d have had stiff competition.
Adam:
No, I don’t think so.
Jolene:
Cocky much?
Adam:
Next year we’re spending New Year’s together.
Jolene:
I don’t know where I’ll be.
Adam:
What does that mean?
Jolene:
It means I go at the behest of my parents’ lawyers. I’ve been to two different schools since the divorce. I could be at another one next week.
I could be in another apartment.
Or you could.
Adam:
Your birthday is January 26.
Jolene:
So?
Adam:
Mine’s February 10.
Jolene:
I know. So?
Adam:
I’m assuming your dad wouldn’t be allowed to move you out of state.
Jolene:
I doubt it.
Adam:
Then in just over a month, I’ll be able
to drive to wherever you are. Or in a few weeks, you can drive to me.
Jolene:
Are you for real right now?
Adam:
Yes.
Jolene:
You’d really drive to me?
Adam:
Wouldn’t you drive to me?
Jolene:
This is the first time I thought about it.
Adam:
It’s not a trick question. If something happened and we didn’t have these weekends, would you still want to see me?
Jolene:
Yes.
Adam:
Good, ’cause I’d want to see you.
Adam:
Still there?
Jolene:
I don’t know what to do when you talk like that.
Adam:
Say it back.
Jolene:
I’d want to see you.
Adam:
You’re getting better at this nice thing.
Jolene:
You think?
Adam:
Oh yeah.
Jolene:
G2G but have fun Xboxing.
Adam:
I’ll see you tomorrow.
Jolene:
Technically you’ll see me today.
Adam:
Even better. Night, Jolene.
Jolene:
Night, Adam.
EIGHTH WEEKEND
January 1–3
Jolene
When he knocked, I called for Adam to come in.
“You should check who’s at the door before you invite them in. I could have been a serial killer.”
“A serial killer who knocks? That’s behavior we should encourage, don’t you think?”
Adam joined me on my couch, and I made room for him by drawing my knees up. “I’m pretty sure being polite isn’t going to offset all the stabbing. Anyway, why aren’t you dressed?” He tugged the pant leg of the teal-green pj’s I was still wearing.
“Because I feel lousy, and real clothes aren’t as depressing as I want to communicate right now.”
“Your pj’s have little grinning sharks all over them.”
I pulled my leg out of reach. “Irrelevant.”
“This is the happiest thing you could have worn.”
“Well, I don’t feel good.”
“You look good. What’s wrong with you, and can I catch it?”
“Thanks. Cramps. And no.”
Adam’s gaze swept over me, assessing. “I’m guessing you don’t want to go out.”
“Do you want a medal for that?”
“No, but maybe don’t bite my head off for making an observation. Can I ask another question?”
“Depends on how inane it is.”
“I have another favor.”
I groaned and flopped back against the cushion. “No pictures right now. I feel like a cat box.”
“It does involve pictures, but not for another couple weeks.”
“I don’t have the brainpower to figure out what you want, so out with it.”
Adam frowned. “I might be having second thoughts. How long will you be ‘out of commission’?” He added air quotes.
I smiled without meaning to. “I’m not going to be great company today. Maybe you should come back tomorrow.”
“Nah. My dad already roped Jeremy into helping him retile all the bathrooms on the first floor. And anyway, I still prefer you in a bad mood to just about anyone else.”
All the blood rushed to my head and pounded behind my eyes. He said it so casually, like the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. How could he throw away compliments like that? He wasn’t even throwing it away, he was saying it without having to think about it, like it was a given.