“Because I thought that’d make you happy and make up for me not being at Berkeley!”
“You know what would make up for you not coming to Berkeley? You going there with me this weekend.”
“I already made plans with Noah. I genuinely can’t believe I forgot tomorrow was Berkeley, but it was an honest mistake. Noah and I really need some quality time this weekend, you know? It’s just been a bit tense with everything going on. You get that, right? What about Sunday? We can go Sunday instead.”
I was working, but I could try to swap my shift with someone. And I had a bunch of stuff to do, but that could wait. We’d talked about going to the arcade again and I was supposed to look after Brad so Dad could go to dinner with Linda, but I could make it work. Noah could totally look after Brad for a little while till we got back from Berkeley; Brad would love that, I knew.
But Lee informed me, “I have plans on Sunday.”
“Oh. Oh, r-right.”
“Can’t you change your plans with Noah?”
“I…”
He took my silence for what it was: that I was choosing not to do that.
“We can’t do Berkeley another weekend, Lee? What’s the rush? We’ve got all summer.”
“The plan,” he said through his teeth, “was to go to Berkeley tomorrow. And that’s what I’m gonna do. You do whatever you want, Elle.”
“Lee…”
He kept tidying, saying nothing, not even looking at me. I knew better than to push him or keep apologizing.
When had my life turned into this circus act of spinning plates? And why was it that every time I got a handle on Lee’s plate, I lost control of Noah’s? When did it become so hard to manage being Lee’s best friend and Noah’s girlfriend?
When did that even become a thing I had to manage?
I could tell Noah I couldn’t hang out with him tomorrow anymore. I could tell him I was going to Berkeley with Lee. I could, but I needed this weekend with Noah, too. This wasn’t just something I was doing for him.
I could suggest Rachel and Noah come along and we make a group thing of it—but that would ruin the whole point. This was the compromise for me bailing on our plans to go to Berkeley together, and all I’d done was…
Bail on these plans to go to Berkeley together, too.
Way to go, Elle.
“We can find another day to go,” I said, hating the silence. “Lee?”
“Sure. Maybe.”
Which meant: No.
“Lee, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I know.”
The silence stretched on, and this time I let it. As I made myself some breakfast and drank my coffee, Lee cleaned up the beach house. I watched him move around, but it was like someone had put a pane of frosted glass between us. Like I was watching him on a screen that hadn’t finished buffering properly.
I could practically see the void that yawned between us.
But if I closed this one, I’d just open a new one between me and Noah.
I hated feeling like I had to choose.
It was a draining, horrible few minutes while Lee put in a load of laundry. He came back into the kitchen, and I said quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to rescue our friendship, or make this whole bucket-list thing feel forced. I just wanted to do something to make you happy. Make some awesome memories, and help say goodbye, I guess. To the beach house. To being kids. But not to each other, Lee.”
He sighed, giving me a half-hearted smile. “It’s okay. I know you’ve got a lot going on. And I wasn’t mad about the mini golf. It was a genuine mistake, it’s all good. And I’m not mad about Harvard. It’s…it’s fucking Harvard. Of course you’re gonna go. That was about more than Noah. I really am proud of you. But, you know, I really thought that this…I thought you’d come through for me on this one.”
He broke my heart.
He really, really did.
“I don’t like fighting with you, Shelly, and I’m not gonna. I love you. Always will. You do what you’ve gotta do. But I’m going to Berkeley tomorrow, with or without you.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have anything to say to make this better. Not when we both knew I’d already made my decision.
* * *
• • •
Later that night, when I was tossing and turning and unable to sleep, Noah wrapped his arm around me, tugging me into his body and spooning me.
“What’s up with you tonight?” he murmured, tucking his head over my shoulder.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Are— Elle, are you crying?”
“No.” I sniffled, turning my face into the pillow, using it to mop up a stray tear.
“You’re a real bad liar, Elle. Talk to me. What’s up?”
“It’s…Lee’s going to Berkeley tomorrow. Like we talked about.”
“Number twenty-two,” Noah said. “I remember. You guys were gonna go up for the”—his body went rigid as he realized—“weekend. Shit. Shit, Elle, why didn’t you say something yesterday?”
“I forgot. Till this morning.”
“I’ll cancel our reservations,” he said. “It’s fine.”
I knew it was. I knew he wouldn’t be mad, not over this one and not after we’d talked things over yesterday.
But I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter now. I already let him down just forgetting about it. It won’t be the same. He’ll think I’m only going so he’ll stop being mad at me.”
“Elle.” Noah sighed. “Not everything has to be perfect. We can rearrange. You should go to Berkeley.”
Not everything has to be perfect.
“But this does have to be perfect, Noah.” I sniffled again, frustrated with myself for crying, and wriggled around so I was facing him. “That was the whole point of this summer and the bucket list. It’s like…it’s like with the road trip Lee and I took over spring break. Sure, we didn’t have to stop off in New York on our way to Boston, but it would’ve ruined the whole plan and the trip. This is just like that. We were meant to do it all just the way we planned. If I go now—”
“If you go,” Noah reasoned, nuzzling his nose against mine, “you’ll get to tick off bucket-list item number twenty-two. You’ll get your trip to Berkeley with Lee like you guys planned, and you’ll have a great time. Isn’t that the most important thing? If you’re not going because of me, don’t even worry about that, okay? I know this is a huge deal for you two. We can hang out some other time. Hey, we’ve got all next year, like you said, haven’t we?”