Counting to D (21 page)

“I like you. I really do. But I can’t stop hanging out with Jessica to go to a comic book convention with you and Miles.”

“I’m not asking you to, but look at yourself. When we did that
Macbeth
video for Mr. Donavan, you were good. You could try out for the spring musical. I bet you’d get a leading roll.”

She rolled her eyes again. Apparently, even drama was too nerdy for her.

“And there’s quite a bit of muscle on that knockout bod of yours,” I continued. “I’m guessing a lot of exercise accompanies whatever fad diet you’re currently on. Instead of simply dating athletes, you could
be
an athlete.”

She didn’t jump up and down with excitement, but she nodded, like maybe some of what I was saying was sinking in, somewhere.

“Or you could admit to actually having a brain and run for class president or edit the school newspaper or something. There are other cliques at our school — other people who might be nicer than your current friends. Other people who might actually want to be your friend, not your frenemy.”

Kaitlyn nodded. “I feel sorry for Gabriella and Arden.”

Hearing their names sent a jolt through my system. My real friends, who were always genuine and understanding. I locked eyes with Kaitlyn. “Why?”

“Because they had the nicest friend in the world, and then she moved away.”

I blushed and stared at my beige carpeting. “Did you want to watch
I Love Lucy
?”

M
y life fell into a comfortable pattern. With Ms. Chatman’s help, I was excelling in all my classes. My mom and I were talking again. I had a wonderful boyfriend and a handful of close friends to talk to at school and hang out with on the weekends. Constantly filling Gabby in on all the Portland gossip even helped me pull my Spanish grade up to a B. A part of me was sad, knowing I’d lose my 4.0, but I didn’t let myself stress out about it. Regardless of what Graham said,
B
did not stand for
bad.
Considering I could barely read English, a
B
in Spanish was
muy bueno.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy. I didn’t even think about missing my old life from San Diego anymore. The life I’d built for myself in Portland was great. When it finally stopped raining, the city I’d learned to love became wonderful too.

Daffodils bloomed in the Larsons’ front yard, and cherry blossom petals fluttered over the sidewalk like snow. As Nate and I walked up the steps to his porch, I planted myself on the swing. “I’ve wanted to spend an afternoon here for months, and today’s the day. I refuse to go inside.”

Nate laughed and sat down on the porch swing next to me. “Should I go in and make you some lemonade? Or are you good with blue sky and calculus homework?”

“Mmmm.” I inhaled the fresh spring air. “I’m good.”

We spread our homework out on the porch. Nate was probably the world’s most productive boyfriend. I was sure Kaitlyn and her friends would tire of nothing but study dates quickly, but I didn’t mind. I liked school and studying. And I especially liked studying with Nate.

“Ugh.” He dropped his calculus book on the ground. “Can you please explain this to me? Why is multidimensional integration so impossible?”

I pulled a pencil from behind my ear and slowly walked Nate through the steps. Continuing to tutor Eli in algebra had made me better at explaining the numbers in my head. Nate always picked things up really quickly when I went over stuff with him. I half expected he didn’t even need my help — he just said he did so he could hear me talk math.

Just as we were finishing our calculus homework, the mailman climbed the stairs to the porch. Instead of dropping the stack of letters through the slot in Nate’s front door, he handed them to Nate. “Congratulations, there’s more than one large envelope in that stack with your name on it, and everyone knows what big envelopes mean.”

College.
Big envelopes meant Nate was going to college. I knew Nate was a senior. I knew Portland colleges were nowhere on his list. I knew he’d leave next fall. I knew that. I’d known that the very first day I met him. I just hadn’t wanted to think about it.

As the mailman walked back down the stairs and continued on his route, I turned to face Nate. “Where did you get in?”

He held three envelopes, all large, one from Dartmouth, one from Macalester, and one from Pomona. “I’m too nervous to open them. What if all three schools rejected me?”

“They didn’t all reject you, Nate.”

He bit his lower lip and stared at the envelopes in his lap.

“They didn’t! Do you want me to open them for you?”

“Just open this one.” He handed me the Pomona envelope.

I slid my fingernail under the edge of the seal and pulled up, tearing it in a smooth line. I reached inside and pulled out a letter, preparing to sound out the words. But I didn’t have to read it — I knew what it said. “Congratulations.” I handed the packet back to Nate.

“I got in somewhere.” He took a deep breath and opened the Macalester letter next. His eyelids rose as the furrow in his brow disappeared.

“Congratulations again.”

He handed me the final envelope. “Okay, you open Dartmouth.”

I tore the final envelope open. I should have been excited for him. This was a great day for Nate — a day he was sharing with me. I forced myself to smile, masking the sadness in my voice. “I knew you’d get into all three. Which one are you going to go to?”

“I don’t know.” Nate took off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. I thought they were tears of joy. “Dartmouth is a really good school, but I’m scared. New Hampshire is three thousand miles away. I don’t know if I can handle going that far from home.” He rested his head on my lap, and I stroked his overgrown hair.

“
Why did you apply to Dartmouth? What about that school made you say, ‘I belong here’? Why didn’t you apply to Princeton or Brown instead?”

“My grandpa went to Dartmouth. He loved it there. He used to tell me stories about it when I was a little kid. I’ve always dreamed of following in his footsteps.”

“So follow in his footsteps. Go to Dartmouth and love every minute of it.”

Nate looked up at me, his eyes glistening. “Reed’s a good school too.”

Reed was a good school, one of the best liberal arts colleges in the Pacific Northwest. It was also located just across the Willamette River in Southeast Portland. “You can’t go to Reed.”

“I know I haven’t applied there, and it’s already past the application date. But I bet if I write a strong enough essay, I could convince them to let me in.”

As much as I hated the idea of Nate leaving, I hated the idea of him staying even more. “You can’t go to Reed.”

“They have a really good language department. It might not be in the Ivy League, but it’s still a great school.”

“Nate, you can’t go
away
to college five miles away from your parents’ house. You need to go to Dartmouth.”

“But you’re not going to come with me.” His voice cracked, and he blinked away tears.

I wasn’t excited about the prospect of him leaving either. But I couldn’t let him throw away the chance of an Ivy League education for me. I couldn’t. “Nate, you know how nerdy the kids who go to Dartmouth are? You’re going to make so many new friends. It won’t be like here. At Dartmouth, everyone will be smart. Everyone will be your peer. You’ll love it, even if I can’t come with you.”

“You’re smart too. You could totally get in there. And you’ve taken so many AP classes, I bet you could graduate early. We could do the long-distance thing for a year, and then you could come to Dartmouth too.”

I shook my head. “No, Nate. I can’t graduate early and run away to Hanover anymore than you can go to Reed. I love you. But we have to live our own lives.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

I picked up Nate’s Dartmouth acceptance package and struggled to read the enclosed forms. “You aren’t due in New Hampshire for four months. There will be no talk of goodbyes for at least three and a half.”

Nate forced a smile that didn’t mask the sorrow in his eyes. “I wish you were older.”

“And I wish you were younger.”

Nate pulled himself into a seated position and turned to face me. “You know, dating a senior isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not?”

“Prom’s in a couple weeks. So you’ve got an excuse to buy a frilly dress.”

“Prom.” The world sat hollow and empty in my mouth. Prom was a rite of passage I’d always hoped I’d one day experience. But now it sounded more like a death sentence. “That sounds pretty fun.”

“I’ve heard
normal
kids go to prom.” Nate tickled my side. He knew me way too well.

I giggled and tickled him back. I’d miss Nate a lot when he left for college. But I’d survive, and he would too. In the meantime, we had four more months to be blissfully happy.

“I think I’ll rent a limo.”

“I get a frilly dress and a limo ride? Gee whiz, it’s every girl’s dream.”

Nate laughed and tickled me some more. The air smelled fresh and clean. A lonely cloud drifted across the bright-blue sky. It was still a perfect spring day.

A week later, I met Eli in the library to help him with algebra. Nate had gotten over most of his jealousy and no longer felt the need to chaperone our tutoring sessions, so Eli gave me a ride home. Sitting in his messy minivan, I couldn’t help but think back to how my life had been when I first moved here — when Eli had taken me to Powell’s in some bizarre intervention.

I stared out the windows at the cherry blossom–lined streets. “How are things going with you and Sophie?”

“They’re good, why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just… We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah?” Eli had gotten over his paranoid driving habits and was totally watching me, not the road.

“So friends talk to each other about relationships and stuff, right? Like when I have questions about guys, I’m supposed to ask Kaitlyn or Sophie about them. But Kaitlyn and Sophie are both girls, and you’re a guy. So it makes more sense for me to just ask you.”

“You want to talk to me about your boyfriend?” Eli’s eyes were so not on the road.

“Stop sign.”

He returned his focus to traffic, which made me feel less like a caged animal.

“You can talk to me about Sophie, if you ever have questions.”

“I don’t. But thanks anyway, I guess.” Eli remembered to stop at the next corner. “So what guy advice do you need?”

“Nate asked me to prom.”

“You guys have been together for like three months. It would be pretty weird if he didn’t.”

“Prom’s at this hotel downtown. And he sort of said something about maybe getting a room there. It would be convenient, not having to worry about the limo taking us home at two in the morning and all that, but, I mean, it’s a hotel room. You’re a guy. Is there any way you could ask Sophie to stay in a hotel room with you and not really be asking her to, well, you know?”

“You guys haven’t had sex yet? And you think he wants to?”

Maybe talking to Eli about this wasn’t the best idea. Nate and I were getting way more physical. Hands were venturing into new territory. And the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t want to tell Eli about it. But sex. “I just don’t know if I’m ready yet. Should I tell Nate to forget about the hotel room?”

Eli glanced at me and smiled. He really was a nice guy. “You should tell Nate you’re not ready yet. Like you said before, there are conveniences to having a hotel room on prom night, and maybe he wasn’t implying anything when he brought it up. But if you’re worried about it, he’s the person you should be talking to. Not me.”

“Thanks, Eli. Sophie’s a lucky girl.”

He nodded and smiled a kind of sad smile. “And Nate’s a lucky guy.”

When he pulled up in front of my apartment building, I couldn’t help but remember the first time Eli gave me a ride home. Maybe I’d had a shot with him way back when after all. Maybe if I’d acted differently, I wouldn’t be dealing with all the stress of Nate’s imminent graduation and departure now. But it didn’t matter. I’d acted the way I’d acted. Eli was just my friend, and Nate wanted to get a hotel room for prom night.

It was a Thursday, and my mom was already home when I got there. “Hey, sweetie, how was your day?” She greeted me when I walked in the door.

“It was good.” I picked up one of the takeout cartons sitting on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch next to my mom. We were starting to act more like a family, but we still didn’t discuss our feelings over a home-cooked meal in a formal dining room on a nightly basis. My mom and I were normal, and Nate’s family was weird.

She flipped on the TV, and we both caught up on the local news. During a commercial break, I picked up the remote and pressed mute. “Mom, I think I might need to go to the doctor.”

She rested her hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling sick? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just get really heavy periods, and Kaitlyn told me that the pill is a million times better than ibuprofen for dealing with cramps. So can you make me an appointment?”

My mom set down her mu-shu pork. “That doctor?”

I could feel my cheeks burning and decided to unmute the TV. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Nate. I just have heavy periods. That’s all.” I’d find a way to tell her about the hotel room issue later.

“Okay, I’ll make you an appointment.”

M
r. Maxwell arrived in AP Physics on Friday morning dressed in a short-sleeved blue button-down shirt. It was the same cotton material as his long-sleeved green shirt, still tucked into his tan slacks, but the change was shocking. I’d never seen his arms before. I’d never seen him wear blue before. It was officially spring.

“All right, class, let’s talk Hooke’s law.” Mr. Maxwell lectured for the first half of the period. Then he circled the room, passing out different-sized springs and weights so we could calculate their elasticity.

Lissa hung our first spring from a rod and weighted it down with a five-gram mass before measuring its elongation. I picked up our second spring and pressed the coils tightly together against the table. When I let go, it shot up into the air.