“AF is my weakness,” I admit.
“Well, don’t say it in front of Molly. You’ll never live it down.”
“Noted.”
I prime walls with Nash and for a moment we are okay.
I don’t know what to say next, so I start rapping along with “Satisfied” and Nash smiles his real, one-dimpled smile. I don’t know if he’s laughing at me or with me, but honestly, I don’t care.
The song ends and I’m out of breath.
I step backward, so ready to launch into Lafayette’s part in “The Story of Tonight—Reprise”… that my right foot lands in the container of primer.
I look down at my primed foot. “Well.”
Nash chews on his lower lip. “This is going well.”
“We could do this professionally.”
Nash laughs. “Totally. Kim and Levitt Painting. Don’t worry, we’ll realize what primer is for eventually—”
“—and definitely step in it.”
“We also rap, and not just the furniture!”
Tears are streaming down my face and I don’t even know why because this is easily Nash’s worst pun yet. “We’ll charge extra for the rapping.”
Nash considers this. “I’ll add ‘rapping not included’ to the fine print.”
“Perfect. I see no flaws in this business plan. But I … need help,” I sputter through my laughter. I am ankle deep in the thick white primer, which might as well be Super Glue.
“You’re a mess, Upstate,” Nash says.
And suddenly, Nash is, like, right here—his face is inches away from mine as he stands up and holds out his hands to help unstick me. He’s so close I see the gold flecks in his eyes. Those eyes are the reason that avoiding Nash indefinitely will never work.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He shrugs. “You confuse me, Upstate.”
“I confuse me too.”
“I never know what you’re thinking. For all I know, I’ll get the cold shoulder at school tomorrow.”
I chew the inside of my cheek and shake my head no.
“It’s either cold shoulder or this. It can’t be both.”
“I like this,” I admit.
It’s as close to saying I like you as I’ll ever get. If I were the right combination of brave and stupid, I’d tell him the truth.
Instead, I swipe my paint roller across his right cheek.
Nash gapes at me. Did I go too far?
He picks up a brush and flicks it so paint splatters all over my shirt. It’s so on. I dip my hands in the fresh lavender and press them against Nash’s chest, leaving handprints on his shirt.
The wildest part of all of this is that I am the one who is stuck in a container of primer. Nash can run away whenever he wants. But he doesn’t move. It’s like a challenge almost: What will Halle do next? How far will she go?
This isn’t a text message. I can’t change the subject. And for the first time I don’t want to.
Nash paints my nose lavender, grinning.
Then the door swings open and Nash jumps back two steps.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Gramps’s voice jolts me out of the moment. He’s smirking in the doorframe, Scout tucked under his arm.
“I can’t be trusted with paint,” I say.
Nash is trying to be serious in front of Gramps but he can’t stop laughing.
“I had too much faith.” Gramps laughs—he laughs, and wow, I’ve missed that sound so much. “Paper towels?”
“Please,” we sputter through giggles.
It’s fun, letting myself just be around Nash.
I want to know him, but I also want him to know me, Halle. I want to build a friendship with Nash, IRL, so when I’m ready to tell him the truth, he’ll understand the full picture. Kels comes with expectations, with almost three years of history. Kels, who always knows what to say, who gets cited in major publications and thrown in the middle of YA scandals, who manages to run One True Pastry like it’s a full-time job.
I know he likes her, but she’s the branded version of me—she’s not me.
Could Nash like this version of me?
I actually want to find out.
November 1
From: [email protected]
can’t wait to hear your voice!!
Hi Halle!
Just wanted to remind you that Dad and I are calling tomorrow at 10 AM eastern. Did you get my emails? I know you’re busy, but you can’t even humor your parents and shoot us a few messages in the group chat? I know you see those!
Gramps says you seem overwhelmed by college apps. Are you working on your personal statement? I know this whole process is stressful—I wish we could be there to help you navigate it! We might be far away, but we’re still here for you, Hal. Don’t forget that!
Talk soon!
Love,
Mom
Halle’s Inbox
Mad Levit
Ollie has assured us you’re still alive
Oct 27
Ari Levitt
camels
Oct 21
Mad Levitt
update #4: a genealogist and a minor tech disaster
Oct 17
Mad Levitt
where are my children? i need details!!!
Oct 12
Ari Levitt
more baby goats
Oct 5
Ari Levitt
baby goats
Oct 5
Mad Levitt
look what you’re missing out on!!
Oct 1
ELEVEN
You can’t put so much pressure on yourself, Halle,” Mom says.
Her voice cracks when she says my name and it makes me feel like trash re: the collection of unopened emails accumulating in my inbox. I’ve been so overwhelmed with my double life, I honestly haven’t even checked my Halle email in the two weeks since I became friends with Nash.
Ollie reminds me we have parents who miss us, but I’ve been positive they’re too busy for that.
Now that I’m on the phone with them? Well, I’m wrong.
“How’re the interviews going?” I ask.
“Great!” Mom says. “But I’m not letting you change the subject.”
“It’s time for a pep talk!” Dad says.
“I was leaning toward reality check,” Mom says.
I drum my fingers on the kitchen table, waiting for whatever is coming next. Currently, the table is a command center of application checklists, essay drafts, and SAT prep books. The math section is the worst. I’ve only improved thirty points from when I took the test the first time in Charlotte, last spring.
I need fifty more points to hit NYU’s median score, but right now that feels impossible.
Dad jumps right in. “Here are the reasons why NYU will love you. You’re smart! You’re tech-savvy! You’ve been building a brand since you were fourteen! Publishers reach out to you for publicity opportunities. We’ll have a talk another time about how it’s maybe time to try to start monetizing this thing, because I have feelings about free labor—but regardless! Instead of thinking about all the things you aren’t doing, maybe take a step back and be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”