“You could’ve spoken up,” Cameron says, her face flushed. “You always shove everything down and then you use it against me. Speak your mind, Brendan,” she orders. “Like this. I’m pissed at you for breaking up with me when we were having a real conversation. It was immature, stupid, and selfish of you.”
Cameron is close to combusting, but I notice Brendan’s lips twitch. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to apologize,” he says, sounding like he finds this funny.
“Of course I’m not apologizing, Brendan,” she replies with a withering glare. “If anything you owe me an—”
She doesn’t finish the sentence because Brendan reaches forward and takes her hand.
“Cameron,” he says. “I’m sorry. Take a walk with me?”
I watch Cameron’s anger evaporate. It’s uncanny, how her expression, her whole person changes. It’s like there are two of her, one fiery and one forgiving, and they coexist in imperfect harmony. “Okay,” she says.
They get up from the table and head for the door. I try to forget their conversation, to focus on my phone and not on the tightness in my chest. It doesn’t work. The thoughts tumble one over the next like rocks falling from a crumbling mountaintop. Cameron and Brendan clearly broke up because of the strains of going to college in different cities.
I don’t know why I’m taking their breakup personally. It’s not like I’m contemplating a long-term relationship with Fitz. But being faced with this reality takes hold of the memory of our kiss and gives it a painful twist. Whatever happens in the rest of our time together, I don’t want to think of Fitz and me being over. When we part, I’ll have nothing tying him to my present. My family doesn’t even know he exists. Tía won’t question me about him, my sisters won’t pry and tease. He’ll exist only in my memory. I don’t want to imagine our connection consigned to the past, which I’ve disregarded for years while putting my hopes in the future. I don’t want him to become a piece of everything I’m leaving behind.
It’s bound to happen, but I’m not looking forward to it.
I glance at Fitz. He’s no longer reading his book, his eyes fixed on the retreating couple. His expression reflects mine.
Neither of us says anything.
Fitz
I OVERHEARD THE entire fight. It’s a harsh reminder of exactly how unlikely this thing with Juniper is to outlive the week. Thing. Ironically enough, I don’t even know the proper word for whatever we are. It’s that new and uncertain. Fling? Relationship? Pattern of kissing I hope continues? Whatever we are, I need to prepare myself to say goodbye in a couple of days. I don’t know if I can.
“I got the job.” I hear my brother’s voice behind me.
I turn, finding Lewis standing by the table. He’s holding his phone, looking stunned.
“The recruitment officer just called me. . . . I got it,” he says, repeating the news like it hasn’t set in.
I jump up without thinking. In a corner of my mind, I know what I’m expecting to feel. I should be upset, should be frustrated that he’ll be going to New York when he graduates, leaving me with the obligations of home and the entire emotional weight of our mom’s situation on my shoulders.
Improbably, I’m not. I’m happy for my brother. Elated, actually. Even though there’s an unspoken well of resentment lingering between us, I want this for him.
It takes me a second to comprehend why. Lewis living in New York will make things harder for me eventually, but I understand wanting something the way Lewis wants this future. I get having hopes and dreams big enough to push the fears from your periphery.
“That’s great, Lewis,” I say, meaning it. “We should celebrate.”
Lewis nods, looking distracted. “Yeah. Yeah, we should.” He sounds distant.
I study him, wondering if he’s finally feeling guilty for leaving home. I quickly extinguish the thought. It has to be something else. Maybe the offer is shitty. Maybe he didn’t like the boss. I can’t imagine Lewis would mope about details like those when it comes to this opportunity.
“This is what you wanted, right?” I ask tentatively. Juniper watches wordlessly from her seat.
“It is,” he replies, staring past me. “I’ve been working toward this moment for years. It’s my dream job. I should be thrilled.” He speaks slowly, unevenly, like he’s reciting the details of someone else’s life.
“But . . . ?”
His eyes find mine, his expression broken. “Prisha will be in San Francisco.”
I pause, not quite understanding what I’m hearing. “I thought—weren’t you planning to break up?” Whenever Lewis talks about his and Prisha’s future, he’s cavalier to the point of careless. I never predicted she would figure into his career considerations.
“We were. We are,” he corrects himself morosely. “I guess it’s just hitting me now.”
I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen my brother like this. Not when he got rejected from Columbia, not when he broke up with his high school girlfriend, not even when we heard our mom’s test results. Juniper and I exchange a look.
“You’re right,” Lewis says, straightening. “We should celebrate.” He sounds like he’s convincing himself. In the next second, the old unflappable Lewis returns, and in the interim, I feel like I’ve seen behind a curtain. I’ve stolen a glimpse into how efficiently Lewis stows whatever is bothering him into someplace unseen. “Sushi?” he says cheerfully.
“Are you sure?” Juniper asks, still looking concerned.
“I want to focus on the win tonight,” Lewis replies, his voice taking on a hint of the sincerity it held moments ago, before his collected persona returned. “The rest will be waiting for me tomorrow.”
Juniper nods. With that, we collect our jackets and head from the student center into the snow and wind. Juniper searches for sushi restaurants on her phone while I walk with Lewis, neither of us speaking. It’s a tentatively comfortable silence. We settle on Sushi Fuku and head for the city.
We’re stepping off campus when I see the couple from earlier. Cameron and Brendan. They’re wrapped in each other, kissing like they have forever to do it. Warmth flutters in my chest. I reach for Juniper’s hand. When I interlace my fingers with hers, she smiles.
Lewis was right. Focus on the good tonight. The rest is waiting.
Juniper
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you told Dad you and Matt broke up before you told me.”