Then he says, “Stormy kept asking me to bring my girlfriend to visit her, and I never got around to it. I feel bad about that now.”
As casually as I can, I say, “Oh, are you dating someone?”
He hesitates for just a split-second and then nods. “Her name is Dipti. We met at a Model UN convention at UVA. She beat me out for the gavel for our committee.”
“Wow,” I say.
“Yeah, she’s awesome.”
We both start to speak at the same time.
“Do you know where you’re going to school?”
“Have you decided—?
We laugh, and a sort of understanding passes between us. He says, “I haven’t decided. It’s between College Park and William and Mary. College Park has a good business school, and it’s really close to DC. William and Mary’s ranked higher, but Williamsburg is in the boonies. So I don’t know yet. My dad’s bummed, because he really wanted me to go to UNC, but I didn’t get in.”
“I’m sorry.” I decide not to mention that I got wait-listed at UNC.
John shrugs. “I might try and transfer there sophomore year. We’ll see. What about you? Are you going to UVA?”
“I didn’t get in,” I confess.
“Aw man! I hear they were insanely selective this year. My school’s salutatorian didn’t get in, and her application was killer. I’m sure yours was too.”
Shyly, I say, “Thanks, John.”
“So where are you gonna go if not UVA?”
“William and Mary.”
His face breaks into a smile. “Seriously? That’s awesome! Where’s Kavinsky going?”
“UVA.”
He nods. “For lacrosse, right.”
“What about . . . Dipti?” I say it like I don’t remember her name, even though I do, I mean, I just heard him say it not two minutes ago. “Where’s she going?”
“She got in early to Michigan.”
“Wow, that’s so far.”
“A whole lot farther than UVA and William and Mary, that’s for sure.”
“So are you guys going to . . . stay together?”
“That’s the plan,” John says. “We’re going to at least give the long-distance thing a try. What about you and Peter?”
“That’s our plan too, for the first year. I’m going to try to transfer to UVA for the second year.”
John clinks his cup against mine. “Good luck, Lara Jean.”
“You too, John Ambrose McClaren.”
“If I end up going to William and Mary, I’m going to call you.”
“You better,” I say.
I stay at Belleview a lot longer than I expected. Someone brings out their old records and then people start dancing, and Mr. Perelli insists on teaching me how to rumba, in spite of his bad hip. When Janette puts on Glenn Miller’s song “In the Mood,” my eyes meet John’s, and we share a secret smile, both of us remembering the USO party. It was like something out of a movie. It feels like a long time ago now.
It’s strange to feel happy at a memorial for someone you loved, but that’s how I feel. I’m happy that the day has gone well, that we’ve sent Stormy off in style. It feels good to say a proper good-bye, to have the chance.
* * *
When I get back from Belleview, Peter’s sitting on my front steps with a Starbucks cup. “Is nobody home?” I ask, hurrying up the walk. “Did you have to wait long?”
“Nah.” Still sitting, he reaches out his arms and pulls me in for a hug around my waist. “Come sit and talk to me for a minute before we go inside,” he says, burying his face in my stomach. I sit down next to him. He asks, “How was Stormy’s memorial? How’d your speech go?”
“Good, but first tell me about Days on the Lawn.” I grab his Starbucks cup out of his hands and take a sip of coffee, which is cold.
“Eh. I sat in on a class. Met some people. Not that exciting.” Then he takes my right hand in his, traces his finger over the lace of my gloves. “These are cool.”
There’s something bothering him, something he isn’t saying. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
He looks away. “My dad showed up this morning and wanted to come with us.”
My eyes widen. “So . . . did you let him come?”
“Nope.” Peter doesn’t elaborate. Just, nope.
Hesitantly, I say, “It seems like he’s trying to have a relationship with you, Peter.”
“He had plenty of chances and now it’s too late. That ship has fucking sailed. I’m not a kid anymore.” He lifts his chin. “I’m a man, and he didn’t have anything to do with it. He just wants the credit. He wants to brag to his golf buddies that his son is playing lacrosse for UVA.”
I hesitate. Then I think of how his dad looked when he was watching Peter out on the lacrosse field. There was such pride in his eyes—and love. “Peter . . . what if—what if you gave him a chance?”
Peter’s shaking his head. “Lara Jean, you don’t get it. And you’re lucky not to get it. Your dad’s freaking awesome. He’d do anything for you guys. My dad’s not like that. He’s just in it for himself. If I let him back in, he’ll just fuck up again. It’s not worth it.”
“But maybe it is worth it. You never know how long you have with people.” Peter flinches. I’ve never said something like that to him before, brought my mom up like that, but after losing Stormy, I can’t help it. I have to say it because it’s true and because I’ll regret it if I don’t. “It’s not about your dad. It’s about you. It’s about not having regrets later. Don’t hurt yourself just to spite him.”
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I came over here to make you feel better, not to talk about my dad.”
“Okay. But first, promise me you’ll think about inviting him to graduation.” He starts to speak, and I interrupt him. “Just think about it. That’s all. It’s a whole month away. You don’t have to decide anything right now, so don’t say yes or no.”
Peter sighs, and I’m sure he’s going to tell me no, but instead he asks, “How’d your speech go?”
“I think it went okay. I think Stormy would’ve liked it. I talked about the time she got caught skinny-dipping and the police came and she had to ride home in a squad car. Oh, and John made it back in time.”
Peter nods in a diplomatic sort of way. I’d told him John might be coming today, and all he said was “Cool, cool,” because of course he couldn’t say anything different. John was Stormy’s grandson, after all. “So where’s McClaren going to school?”
“He hasn’t decided yet. It’s between Maryland and William and Mary.”
Peter’s eyebrows fly up. “Really. Well, that’s awesome.” He says it in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t think it’s awesome at all.
I give him a funny look. “What?”
“Nothing. Did he hear that you’re going there?”
“No, I just told him today. Not that one thing has anything to do with the other. You’re being really weird right now, Peter.”