“Nope,” I say. He frowns.
“Was she friendly?” he says. I frown too.
“I…guess,” I say.
“Hmm.”
We look at each other. I realize that I am tracing the lines of his shoulders and arms with my eyes. I look down and focus on his bare feet.
“Well, you’re probably cold,” I say. “And I have a date so…” I shrug.
“Oh, right,” Finny says. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You too, I guess…feel better.” I turn away without raising my eyes to him again. I don’t hear the door close until I’m off the porch and halfway across the lawn.
My nap is foiled by my memory of the porch. I lie on my side on the bed, facing away from the window, and try to put it out of my mind.
I know that it’s normal to still find other people attractive when you’re in love; what bothers me is the melting, dizzy feeling that overpowered me when I saw him. It wasn’t just attraction but some combination of lust and affection that had me longing to lean into his chest and smooth down his unruly hair. I could even see it: my head on his shoulder, looking up at him as my fingers reached up to caress his hair. I imagined that his skin would be hot, feverish, and I would soak up the heat as I felt every line of his body that I had admired pressing into me.
Because of course, in this fantasy, he was holding me, caressing me back.
Wanting me back.
I am horrible and ungrateful; Jamie is better than I deserve.
And even as I curse myself for my selfishness, another selfish thought is crowding my mind, that I’m wasting what happiness I could have.
I love Jamie and he wants to stay with me forever. He buys me presents and calls me his pretty girl. He’s gorgeous and smart and funny and I should be perfectly content, or even better than content.
But I’m not because this preoccupation with Finny keeps me from fully immersing myself in my love for Jamie. Keeps me from being as happy as I could be. Should be.
I want to pull Finny out of my mind like a splinter so that I can adore Jamie the way he deserves to be adored.
And even more than that, because I am a selfish, bad creature, I want to feel that adoration. I want to be free of this guilt.
***
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Jamie says as if it is a stupid question. I watch him rummage through the bag and smile to myself. The restaurant is crowded and loud; I barely hear the tissue paper ripping. Jamie laughs and leans across the table to give me a kiss. “You are the best girlfriend,” he says.
“I try,” I say.
26
The boys are building a scary ramp out of snow. We are at Noah’s, whose backyard has the kind of hill people would drive miles to sled on if it were public property. The plan is to spend the afternoon sledding and then go to the mall. I won’t be making the second event. Aunt Angelina has decided that it’s time to introduce her new boyfriend to us; my mother is having them over for dinner and my father is even going to be home. I just told everybody I had a family thing I couldn’t get out of. I try to leave Finny out of our conversations as much as possible. It’s too weird for them to be reminded that the boy who is supposed to be one of our enemies at school is family to me at home.
The girls sled on our side while the boys argue among themselves about how to make the ramp more dangerous. The boys test the ramp then add more snow. They test it again and then add more snow. Finally, Jamie flies three feet in the air and crashes down again, and the ramp is dubbed a success.
The boys laugh when they tumble out of the sled headfirst. They laugh when they crash into each other. They laugh when they narrowly miss hitting a tree. They laugh at us for not trying out the ramp.
“Come on,” Jamie says. He scoots back in the sled to make room for me but I shake my head. He rolls his eyes and flies down again, nearly breaking his neck as he flips off the sled and onto the ground.
“That was awesome,” Alex shouts. The girls shudder.
As the afternoon passes, I persuade Jamie to go down with me a few times on what he calls “the girlie side of the hill.” He sits behind me and wraps his arms around my waist and I lean back into his chest as the sled races down the hill. I like how the thrill of fear makes me instinctively grab at him. Jamie laughs at me for squealing and kisses my cheek at the bottom of the hill. His lips feel warm against my skin.
“Come down the ramp with me, please,” he says, drawing the last word out like a small child.
“No,” I say, just as childishly. He sighs and rolls his eyes again.
Sasha is the one to betray us. Alex calls for her just once and she says, “Oh fine,” and goes over to them. I stand at the bottom of the hill and watch as they balance awkwardly on the sled together. My eyes flicker to Jamie once. He is at the top, looking at them too.
Sasha screams and Alex laughs as they hit the ramp. With two of them they aren’t thrown as far in the air but the sled flips sideways when they hit the ground, and they skid across the snow face first. The boys cheer and laugh, and Alex helps Sasha up and brushes the snow from her hair.
“That was fun!” she says. Alex beams at the rest of us.
“Yeah, my girlfriend is the cool one,” he says. Brooke huffs and rolls her eyes to Noah. Angie shrugs. Jamie and I look at each other. His eyes are pleading. I stomp up the hill toward him.
“You have to be in front,” I say. Jamie smiles and holds the sled in place with his foot. I sit down and he jumps down in front of me. He reaches for my arms and locks them around his waist, and for a moment I feel less nervous.
“Hold on to me,” he says.
Jamie shifts his weight, inches the sled forward, and we’re smoothly flying. I bury my face in Jamie’s jacket. Suddenly we are jolted. My eyes squeeze tighter when I lose my grip on Jamie and I feel my body thrown into the air. The air is like ice in my throat as I gasp. Something hard and warm strikes my face just before I hit the ground. My surprise overcomes the pain for a moment, and then I realize that I am sitting up in the snow with my hands clamped over my eye. And it hurts.
“Autumn, oh fuck,” Jamie says. I hear the crunch of snow as the others run down the hill toward us. I take in a shuddering breath through my locked teeth. I find tears over physical pain so embarrassing.
“I’m fine,” I say without unlocking my jaw. It’s a reflex, but I know I’m not dying so it must be true enough. Mittens grab at me, trying to pull my hands away from my face. Instinctively I shy away from them, trying to protect my pain. “Don’t,” I say. I open my other eye to glare at the offender. Jamie and Sasha are kneeling in front of me, their faces close to mine. The others are standing behind them.