But I didn’t.
“Well. It was nice seeing you, Jess,” Christopher’s mother said.
His dad gave me a curt nod, and then they walked away.
I just stood there, staring at the spot where they’d been seconds before, trying not to burst into tears. Christopher was gone. He’d just up and left. Had he even gotten the texts I’d sent last night? Did it mean nothing to him that I’d reached out? That I’d apologized? Was he that angry? Did he believe in this lawsuit so much that he couldn’t even acknowledge me? Apparently that was his plan. And now I was never going to see him again.
All I’d been to him was a distraction, and not even a very good one.
When I got back to our room, Lauren was gone. Bed unmade. Clothes everywhere. Good. I didn’t want her here. I didn’t want anyone anywhere near me. I flung myself onto my bed on my back, tears leaking out the corners of my eyes and pooling in my ears. I wasn’t sobbing, exactly, but I couldn’t stop the tears from quietly flowing. I couldn’t believe he’d just left without saying goodbye. Without saying anything. I checked my phone just to make triple-sure, and the only text was from Carina.
Are you okay? I just saw you run out of the restaurant.
I thought about texting back, but what was I supposed to say? I barely knew her. Confessing that I was broken up about the fact that a guy I’d known for three days had bailed on me just felt so loser-y I could cry. Except I was already crying. I put the phone facedown on the bedside table and took deep breaths instead.
Try to put yourself in his place, I told myself. Yes, we’d been hanging out a lot over the last couple of days, but what about all the hours I wasn’t there with him? I’m not saying I’m the most entertaining person on the planet, but what was he doing when I wasn’t there? Watching videos until his eyes dried out? Texting with friends who were probably doing all kinds of fun things on their winter breaks? Maybe at his cousins’ he’d have more to do. People to play video games with. An aunt and/or uncle who could take him out to the movies or the mall or somewhere other than a couch in the middle of a hotel lobby.
I couldn’t blame him. My list, I’d thought, had been a fun distraction, but that was really just about me. Selfish old me. My heart squeezed when I thought of our argument the night before. Texting clearly wasn’t working. I could just call him. See how he was doing. Say I was sorry for…what? Making him jealous with Damon? I wasn’t even a hundred percent sure he was jealous. I mean, if he really liked me enough to get envious about a couple of hours on the slopes—most of which I didn’t even spend with Damon, by the way, not that he’d given me a chance to tell him that—then wouldn’t he still be here?
But maybe his leaving had nothing to do with any of this. Maybe he was just pissed off that I didn’t understand why his family was suing my family. Maybe that was too much for us to get over. I had to talk to Loretta. I had to find out what was actually going on. I had to make her talk to me about it.
I lifted my phone again, and it rang. I was so startled I almost dropped it, but instead I hit Accept.
I didn’t even have a chance to see who was calling. Maybe it was him?
“Hello?” I said.
“Tess! Hi, honey! How are you?”
My stomach clenched. It was my mother.
“Oh. Hi, Mom.”
There was a pause. Clearly she could tell how not-psyched I was to talk to her.
“Is everything okay?” she asked gently.
No. Everything was not okay. And even though I was still mad at her, hearing her ask me that in her mom-voice got to me. Before I knew what was happening, I started to spill.
“I think I messed something up, and I don’t know how to fix it,” I said, my voice, annoyingly, cracking.
She took a deep breath, and I could just imagine her settling into her favorite chair by the window with a cup of tea. “Tell me what it is and we’ll figure it out.”
So I did. I told her everything. Well, not about the lawsuit, because I knew in the depths of my soul that Loretta wouldn’t want me talking about it. But everything that had to do with me. How I felt like I was always doing things for other people, but never anything for myself. How I wanted to try new things and stop being so nervous all the time. Stop being the good girl—“Sorry, Mom”—all the time. She laughed at that. “No apologies necessary.”
And then I told her about Christopher and how he’d helped me write, and laminate, and get started on completing the list.
“But then yesterday I went with Lauren and some other people to go ski the black diamond, and when I got back he was flirting with some other girl and he was so mad at me,” I said. “Like I’d betrayed him somehow.”
“But it’s not like he could have gone skiing with all of you. His leg is broken,” my mother said indignantly.
“Yes! Thank you! That’s what I said!” I felt a little giddy over vibing with my mother. It had been a long time since we’d had a conversation like this. One that wasn’t all tangled up with negative emotions about her and my dad breaking up. Maybe my parents had done the right thing sending me and Lauren away for the week. Maybe being physically farther apart was somehow bringing us closer.
“Anyway, I saw his parents this morning, and they said he’d left. He’s going to spend the rest of his break at his cousins’ house,” I finished, staring up at the ceiling. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from telling her about the lawsuit, and how that complicated everything. “So…so much for that.”
“You don’t think it’s because of you, do you, honey?” my mom asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, we have this big fight and then he’s gone? If it’s not about me, it seems kind of like a big coincidence.”
“Well, I have to say I like the sound of this list,” my mom told me. “You should get out of your comfort zone every once in a while.”
I rolled my eyes, so not surprised that she liked the idea of the list. My mother was always after me to be more adventurous. To try out for the soccer team or go out for the school play. To meet new people. To be more like Lauren. Even to get back on my skateboard. Is that all my list was to her? A sign that I was going to become more like her favorite daughter? I bet she was psyched about that.
“Whatever happens with Christopher, you should keep chipping away at your list,” she told me. “Don’t let some boy and what he wants or doesn’t want derail you from living your life.”
Her voice sounded oddly bitter as she said this, and her words seemed to hang in the air around me. My fingers and toes tingled, and not in a good way. I clutched the phone a bit tighter, waiting for her to break the silence that had suddenly descended. When she didn’t, I asked, in a small voice, “Mom…is that how you feel about Dad? Do you feel like he derailed your life?”