“Of course it’s okay,” I say.
We get out of the car and walk together toward my front door. I’m careful to not trip over my own feet, which happens sometimes when I’m nervous. It’s even more of a possibility now, because it looks like somebody tried to shovel the walkway after last night’s snow, but there’s still a slick layer of ice they weren’t able to chip at.
“Be careful,” I joke to him. “We know what happened the last time you went ice-skating.”
He grins. “Are you going to beat me again?”
“Duh,” I say, smiling back. But I don’t actually speed up. I want this short walk to the door to last.
When we reach the door, I pull the keys out of my bag. They jingle awkwardly in my hand. I’m stalling, but I don’t know why. Maybe I’m waiting for Andy to hint that he’s feeling the same way.
I look at him and he’s staring at me, smiling.
“What?”
“I’m just relishing this moment. It’s the first time you’re paying more attention to me than to a paper heart.”
“Paper hear—” I start to say, whipping my head around to the door, then stopping short: because right there in front of my eyes is another letter taped to the door.
“Never mind,” Andy says. I turn back to him and watch his shoulders sink.
There’s a moment when neither of us know what to say. Eventually, he clears his throat. “Well, now that you see the heart, are you going to read it?” He sounds irritated.
“Oh, yeah,” I say, not bothering to try to make him less irritated. I’m annoyed too—at myself. Here I am, off gallivanting with Andy, when there could be a guy out there sending me on a romantic scavenger hunt. I suddenly feel like a horrible, stupid person.
I snatch the paper heart off the door and unfold it. Inside, there are two tickets for a chocolate-making class at the Culinary Institute of America, where some of the best chefs and bakers in the country are trained. I didn’t know they had classes for people like me. There’s a restaurant there that I’ve been to on special occasions, like when I got into Columbia. Everything about the CIA feels fancy, including the message with the tickets.
Whether you dream of truffles, a dense and rich flourless chocolate cake, or light-as-air-soufflés, this chocolate lover’s class will teach you the essential techniques needed to make irresistible desserts. Learn tricks of the trade from a CIA chef while making a sweet surprise!
Suddenly, my stomach lurches. There had been plenty of sweet shop vendors at the Hudson Valley Orchard. I can’t remember exactly, but I’m pretty sure I told Pete I wished I had saved room for dessert but I was too chocolated out from the hot chocolate. Did he remember me saying that?
“What a coincidence,” Andy says, interrupting my thoughts. “Chocolate is my favorite food group.”
I shake my head. There’s no way he can come with me to this next clue. It was harmless when he was just some bystander giving me rides, but now…it’s bad enough as it is. I expect Andy to argue or have some comeback, but he nods.
“I figured.”
Well, that was easy, at least.
“Thanks for today,” I say, because I mean it, and none of this is his fault. Sometimes it just feels like I’m ungrateful. I remember what Carmen said about me being a bad friend around the time of the accident. Why don’t I ever learn?
“Wait, El, are you ok—” Andy starts, but I turn before he can see a tear roll down my cheek.
“See you around,” I say, quickly opening the door and shutting it behind me firmly, like a book I no longer want to finish. Or at least have to stop reading for now.
* * *
Once I get inside, I check my phone and see a couple of missed FaceTimes and a text from Carmen.
Um excuse me. Are you going to tell me how the date went? I’m dying over here!
For a second, I wonder how she could possibly know I was on a date with Andy. And then I shake my head. She’s talking about my date with Pete, of course. How quickly I forgot.
I want to FaceTime her back, but she’ll know from the look on my face that something is up. Part of me thinks I should just tell her everything about the paper hearts, but another part knows I don’t have the energy to right now. Instead, I text back.
It was a lot of fun. He was sweet. Kiss at the end was even sweeter.
She texts back immediately.
OH MY GOD. TELL ME MORE.
Do you think he’ll take you on another date?
This is the first time we’ve both had boys. WE CAN DOUBLE.
Despite how low I felt moments ago, her excitement makes me crack a small smile. Then it gives me an idea to make things right again.
I text Pete.
Hey! I’m going to this chocolate class tomorrow and have an extra ticket if you’re interested.
I keep it vague in case he’s not actually my admirer.
He responds immediately.
A class about CHOCOLATE? Of course I’m interested.
It’s a nice text, which makes me feel even worse for how I’ve been acting. I have to make it up to him.
Great. Pick me up at noon?
Can’t wait.
Same, I text back, even though I can’t help but feel that I’m not being entirely honest. When I was with Andy, I had this feeling of wanting to know more about him. With Pete, I had a feeling of familiarity, which isn’t exactly bad—there are plenty of things I love that are familiar. The familiar smell of burning wood when my dad starts a fire in the winter. The familiar joy I have when my favorite song starts playing on Spotify.
Familiar can be good, I remind myself.
Chapter 17
The next morning I’m woken up by a knock on my door. Before I say anything, Ashley barges in. She’s wearing leggings and a zip-up jacket.
“Do you know where my running gloves are?” she asks.
“No. Why would I?”
She shrugs. “Maybe because I found my jacket in your room yesterday.”
Whoops. Busted.
“Well, if I find my gloves, do you want to come with me?” she asks.