“It’s not your fault,” I tell her. “It’s them … it’s no one’s fault but theirs.”
We pull away from each other, and for a second it’s awkward silence, but then we start laughing when we see each other. Red, puffy faces. Hannah’s makeup has run a little.
“Don’t laugh,” she says, walking over to the counter to grab some paper towels. “It’s not funny,” she says while trying to keep back another laugh.
And I can’t stop myself from giggling. “It’s pretty funny.”
But then we stop, and it’s awkward again. Hannah balls up the paper towel and eyes me, stepping a little closer. “I love you, kiddo. You’re the best sib a sister could ask for.”
“I love you too.” We hug each other again, and there’s this feeling that sort of washes over me. Because it actually feels like things might be okay again.
Maybe not right away, but they’ll get there.
One day.
School’s helping keep my mind busy, which isn’t really something I ever thought I’d be grateful for. It’s officially the start of exam season, and May is pretty much nonstop for seniors. The semesters at North Wake are shorter than Wayne’s, so instead of the school year ending in June, it ends in May. And the whole month is going to be spent getting our caps and gowns, rehearsing for graduation, signing yearbooks, preparing for senior night, and getting ready for prom.
Which means that no one really has the time to care about what happened at the art show. Maybe they wouldn’t have cared anyway. There’s still the feeling that everyone is watching me, or laughing at me behind my back, but maybe that’s normal. And Meleika and Sophie haven’t really brought it up. Maybe Nathan talked to them. Or maybe they just know not to talk about it.
Mrs. Liu hasn’t talked about it either, which might be what I’m most grateful for. She’s very good at acting like nothing’s happened. Bless her.
At least I can knock prom and senior night off my list of things to handle. I’d even skip graduation if I could, but North Wake won’t let you graduate unless you come to all the practices and attend the actual ceremony. Apparently, they hold your diploma hostage until afterward. So that’s sweet of them.
There are nights I know I should be studying, or reviewing, or doing the practice quizzes. But I can’t. Because what’s the point? When all’s said and done, I’ll barely scrape by in English, and if I never have to write another essay in my life, I’ll be very happy. I actually thought about maybe getting Nathan’s help, but we haven’t really talked much over the last two weeks.
Actually, he’s talked to me plenty, I’ve just been too selfish to respond.
That probably isn’t how I should be thinking of it, but I can’t stop myself. I have no idea what I’m going to say to him.
The rest of my classes will be easy enough. We have to take an actual exam in Art, which sucks, but I know enough about the “history” aspect of the subject to pass. Chemistry will be the real kicker since Thomas can’t give me the exam. Something about nepotism, and it not being fair. Luckily, the test is made by the state, so all I really have to do is take it in a different room than everyone else. Just three weeks.
Three whole weeks.
Three weeks to get ready to never see Nathan ever again. He brought his letter from UCLA to lunch the other day. He got in, with a pretty big scholarship too, so he’s not even going to worry about his other choices. In three weeks he’ll be getting ready for school. In two months he’ll be touring the campus, a month after that, he’ll be one of UCLA’s newest students. And I’ll be nothing but a memory.
“Hey, kid.” Hannah knocks on my door.
“Hey.” I try my best to sound casual.
“Do you have any plans tonight?” She takes a seat right on the edge of my bed. Her usual spot.
“No.” Besides wallowing in a pool of self-pity and anxiety? I don’t know what’s hit me lately, maybe the art show is still at the back of my head, and everything that Hannah told me after. It feels like my parents aren’t the people I knew anymore.
I mean, my opinion of Dad hasn’t changed that much but Mom … I thought she was different. It makes me think about everything I ever told her. If she really went behind my back like she did to Hannah.
“Do you want to do anything?”
“Not particularly.”
“Come on!” She hops off the bed and pats at my legs. “Let’s party, let’s get loose. It takes two, come on!”
“Why are you quoting Carly Rae Jepsen to me?”
“Okay, first of all she only covered that song. Secondly—” Hannah shakes her head. “Never mind, come on, you’ve sulked enough.” She reaches for my hand before she remembers the whole touching thing.
I put down my sketchbook. Not that I’ve been working on much anyway. All my Art assignments are done, and I’ve basically been painting at school nonstop since I won’t have the art room soon. “What’s gotten into you?”
Hannah sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Okay, guys, I tried!” she shouts to no one. Or at least, I think it’s no one, until Nathan and Meleika come down the hallway.
“You call that trying?” I hear Meleika mutter.
“What are you two doing here?” I ask.
“Well, you’ve been so down lately,” Meleika says. “So we figured we’d kidnap you and take you to senior night!”
“No, thanks,” I say.
“You mean I brought this pillowcase for nothing?” Nathan eyes the thing balled up in his hands.
“I thought it might be a good idea for you to get out.” Hannah sits back on the edge of the bed. “Go have fun, be a kid for one more night.”
“Yeah, no.” I roll over on my side.
“Come on!” Nathan hops on the end of the bed. “It’ll be fun.”
“There’s bowling.” Meleika says this like it adds some kind of incentive for me to get out of bed. “And skating.” Strike two. “And everyone’s going to be there.” Strike three.
“Okay, I’m going to talk to Ben, y’all wait downstairs.” Hannah shoos them both out of my room, closing the door behind them.
“I’m not going,” I say again.
“I heard you.”
“Good.” I’ll apologize to everyone on Monday or something.
“Ben …” Hannah huffs. “I know this hasn’t been the easiest time for you.”
Understatement of the freaking year. “Yeah, and right now I just want to be alone. Okay?”
“You’ve been alone for the last month, Ben.” A month? I guess it has been that long. “You’ve hardly talked to me, or Thomas. Nathan said you’ve been unresponsive at school. And the second you get home you crawl into bed. I know you’re feeling a lot of things, with Mom and Dad and—”
“I’m allowed to feel sad about this, Hannah.” I’m trying not to be frustrated with her, but everything she says sounds terribly close to her telling me just to get over all this even if she doesn’t mean for it to.