Which I get. It just seems overwhelming, I guess. That starting tomorrow, I will meet hundreds of girls and have to decide which group of them I want to be friends with. Pledge my college years to.
Jadyn says to be myself. My mom told me to be a Diamond. Said that my name holds clout since my father is practically a football legend there. Even though she’s married twice since she and my dad divorced, she’s kept the Diamond name. She says it’s for me and Damon—so we share the same last name—but she likes the prestige it brings her.
Jennifer already has the car packed and ready to roll. I need to get down there, but I also just need a moment.
I sit on my window seat and take a deep breath. Try to calm myself. My eyes do what they always do when I’m in this spot—wander to the window across from me, to Chase’s room. I tilt my head in curiosity when I notice his curtains are closed and there’s a white sheet of paper taped to the window.
There is just one word written in a flowing script that isn’t Chase’s typical handwriting.
dream
I look down at my hand. At my empty ring finger. I took off the dream ring he had given me the second I got home on the day things ended. The day of our fight. A fight I’ve never fully recovered from.
I get up, go to my jewelry box, and stare at the ring. I look at it every day. I’m not sure if it’s for the hope my dream will come true or to punish myself for it not coming true.
But the sign feels like an olive branch.
I put the ring on and then trace my fingers across each letter, just like Chase did the day he gave it to me.
It was during the summer two years ago. Chase had just gotten back from quarterback camp, and I’ll never forget how he took my breath away when he stepped out of the car. He looked grown-up. Still his adorable, goofy self, but the truth was, my best friend had gotten really hot.
“Dani!” I hear being yelled out, bringing me out of my reverie.
I startle and decide to leave the ring on, but then I run into my closet, pull a photo out from underneath my jewelry box, and tape it to my window before I go.
When I get downstairs, I find my entire family, all the Mackenzies, and even the dogs—Angel and Winger—waiting for me. The kids are holding balloons, the dogs have on collegiate neckerchiefs, and there’s even a banner that says, Good Luck at College.
I get hugs and kisses from everyone, but when it’s Chase’s turn, I just stand there, frozen, looking up into his eyes, my emotions ping-ponging between sadness from the way he yelled at me yesterday to happiness from the sweet sign today.
He shocks me when he takes both my hands in his and says, “Good luck.” But he stops when his finger touches the ring. He doesn’t pull my hand up to look at it. He already knows what it says. “You haven’t worn that since—did you see my sign?”
I’m standing completely still, staring into his gaze. “Yes. And thank you,” I say as tears prickle my eyes.
He pulls me into a hug. Which doesn’t help. He hasn’t hugged me like this in what feels like forever. And I’ve missed it. “You’ll have so much fun at college; I know you will. Scope things out, get the lay of the land, and then your brother and I will be there with you soon.”
“You’re coming to Nebraska?” I ask. “Like, for sure?”
“Of course. It was our dream. Well, I mean, individually anyway,” he says, putting his head down.
Individually, not as a couple, is what he means. His dream, my dream, which is not the same as our dream.
Still, the hug, like the sign in the window, makes me feel like maybe, someday, we could be friends again. And when he unwraps his arms from around me, I’m not ready for him to let go.
“Take care of yourself, Dani.”
Those are the last words I remember hearing even though I got numerous well wishes and good-byes before I was loaded into the car. I turn to Jennifer, who is in the passenger seat next to me. She’s taking me to the airport, but both my parents are going to help me move in. Dad drove my car up to Lincoln yesterday and had a get-together last night with some old teammates. He’ll be meeting me and my mom there before flying back home with her.
“You feel like driving?” I ask Jennifer.
“Of course,” she says. She loves to drive.
Everyone has dispersed from the driveway, but Chase is still standing there with my brother and Haley, watching us.
When we get out of the car to switch sides, I can’t help myself. I rush toward Haley, throwing my arms around her, then Damon, and Chase, like I’m never going to see them again.
A package deal.
Chase
“Wow,” Haley says as we watch the car pull out of the driveway. “Dani hasn’t hugged me like that since …” She stops talking.
We don’t talk about that summer. Damon and my sister know what happened. Why everything changed.
“That summer,” I say. “It’s okay. We should be able to talk about it. We had a lot of fun together.”
“We did,” my sister says, frowning. “I tried. Like, for me and her to be close even though she and you weren’t. It’s like we’re a package deal or something.”
“And right now, we ain’t part of the package,” Damon drawls. “My sister is a smart girl, but sometimes, she can be really dumb. And as I always say, you can’t fix stupid.”
“But she hugged you, Chase,” Haley says, “not just then, but also before when everyone was saying goodbye. She hasn’t done that either.”
“I know,” I say. “Maybe …”
“Maybe what? Did something happen between you two?” Damon asks.
“No, we got into a fight yesterday. I yelled at her. That’s why Mom made me go to my room and told everyone to leave. But today, I don’t know … maybe the ice thawed a little.”
“It needs to melt,” Haley says. She wraps her arms around me and Damon. “Next year, when you two go off to college, I’ll be bawling. Seriously, I don’t know what I will do without you jerks around.”
Let go of it all.
Devaney
When Jennifer pulls out onto the tarmac, I see that my mother has already arrived. Once we get my bags out of the car and loaded onto the plane, Jennifer gives me a big hug.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say sincerely. “And the babies.”
“We’ll miss you, too. Enjoy rush and college.”
What she says makes me feel hopeful, but then I turn and greet my mother—the woman who has so many expectations of me. Of how I need to look. How I need to behave. And not because I want to act or look a certain way, but to impress those she deems worthy.
“Devaney, take a seat,” my mother says. “We aren’t due to take off for a bit, and I brought you here early, so we could have a chat.”
Oh boy. What did I do wrong now?
I sit as told and then really look at my mom. “Did you change your hair color?” I ask her.
Something about her looks … different. She looks softer somehow. Her hair is in loose curls that don’t seem to be held in place by a bottle of hair spray. Her makeup is a little less severe. Her clothes are obviously still designer, but she’s wearing a flowing dress that makes her look … well, more like me.