Forever for a Year (14 page)

“I'm sorry. Carolina,” she said.

“I don't care.” I did care. But I didn't want to make her feel bad.

“Don't you think our new names sound dumb? I think we should just go back to Peggy and Carrie.”

“Those were our junior high names.”

“Don't you wish,” Peggy said, then stopped, then started again, “we could just go back to being in junior high? Things were so much better there.”

“Yeah,” I said, but then I said, “but I like high school. I think it's good that we got older.”

“I want to be Peggy,” she said, and I could tell she was mad at me.

“Okay. But I want to be Carolina.”

“I want to call you Carrie.” This made me mad. But I had done a horrible job of calling her Marguerite both in my head and to her face, so I just said, “Okay, but I want everyone else to call me Carolina.”

“Like Kendra?” she said.

“Yes. And … everyone.” I didn't even want to tell her about Trevor. She was in the worst mood ever.

“That's fine. I'll be special. I'll be the only one that knows the real you.” This used to make me feel so good, but Peggy didn't say it to make me feel good, I don't think. We talked a little bit more, about unimportant stuff like homework, and then we hung up and I felt really sad and I didn't really know why, but then I saw a text.

TREVOR

Are you free next Saturday?

So I texted back within one second:

ME

Yes  :)

TREVOR

Want to hang out with me?

ME

Yes  :)

TREVOR

;)

So. Like. (Don't say “like” so much, Carolina. Really.)

So. Next Saturday would be … a date, right? Yes. My first high school date. My first real date, EVER.

This was the most amazing thing in the history of the universe. I'm exaggerating, but I'm doing it on purpose because I'm funny. But really. It was really the most amazing thing that ever happened to me, and my dad says we each live in our own private universes, so it's funny and true, sort of. Never mind.

But really! I had a date! But it was literally six billion years away. I could never wait that long. I'd think about it every second and not be able to study or walk or probably even breathe. Gosh. Really, Carolina. Stop being such a silly little girl who makes such a big deal out of everything. You'll be fine. It's just a week. Six days.

OH MY GOSH. That's so amazing. And forever.

 

26

Trevor has a seat saved

On the way to school Tuesday, despite Carolina and I texting constantly all weekend, I was sure, just goddamn sure, that when she saw me again in biology, she was not going to like me anymore. Or forget what I looked like. Not who I was. But more like, “Oh, wait, you don't look anything like the boy I said I liked on Friday night.”

Yeah, I'm sort of obsessed with worst-case scenarios. You know why? Because it's a lot better than thinking everything is going to be great and then something, anything, going wrong. You know why else? Because bad stuff always happens!

But you know what? After I got off the bus, as I was walking through the front doors of the school, my phone beeped with a text.

It was from Carolina:

CAROLINA

I got to class early and saved

you the desk next to me.

My face snapped into the goofy-ass smile. How. Did. I. Find. The. Most. Awesome. Girl. On. The. Planet? Then, because I'm the weakest, worst jerk on the planet, I started thinking that when I saw Carolina I wouldn't like her. I'd be like, “Oh, wait, you don't look anything like the girl I said I liked on Friday night.” Crap. Crap! This was gonna happen, I just knew it.

So I closed my eyes as I walked into class, just not wanting to face the truth, and then—

Crap.

Craaap.

She looked even prettier than I had ever seen her look. Her eyes lit up the room. Clich
é
! Do better, Trevor!

Her eyes were …

Her eyes were … beams of white and brown, pulling me toward her, calming my mind and inspiring my heart.…

That's terrible. Like, the worst poetry ever written. Screw it.

Her eyes just made me want to look at her. Okay? Look at her and no one else. Couldn't see the big-ass wall behind her. Nothing. Nothing else. Just her.

I sat next to her. She smiled. I smiled. I could have sat next to her, like this, not saying anything, just us looking at each other, all day. All week. All year. Man, I'm insane.

“Hi,” she said after a bit.

“Hi,” I said back. I should have said “hey,” it would have been cooler, but screw it, I said what I said and she didn't mind. Carolina made everything better. Even school.

*   *   *

At lunch, I sat with my cousin Henry and the rest of the freshman football players. Carolina sat with Peggy, Kendra, and the rest of her usual freshman girlfriends. The tables were on opposite sides of the freshman section of the cafeteria. I would have asked her to sit with me, or us, but how do you ask that? Do you just say,
Let's sit together at lunch
? Shouldn't you be able to communicate some of this stuff without words?

I wasn't paying attention to anything Henry or the others were talking about until Jake elbowed me in chest. I looked at him, but he pointed at my cousin.

“Is it true?” Henry asked.

“What true?” I said back.

“You and Carrie Fisher. You're going out? Licker saw you two in history. Said you whispered something to her.” My cousin said it as if I had broken some law. As if he were a powerful judge about to condemn me. I didn't like Licker any better than the rest of them anymore. And I was liking the rest of them even less by the second. Yeah, so I whispered to Carolina. Whispered, “History is my favorite subject.” Felt stupid, but I couldn't think of anything else, and I wanted to lean close to her. Cheesy. I know. But I did it anyway. And that whisper, I guess, was all Licker needed to see to know. All that was needed to make whatever Carolina and I were public. I could deny it. Yeah. But … screw it.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I thought I told you that you couldn't go out with her.”

Licker said, “I think she's much cuter this year.” Okay, I liked Licker better again.

“That's not the point, Licker!” Henry yelled. “The point is we are supposed to be like brothers, and how can we trust each other if we don't listen to each other?”

My cousin was talking like a moron. I knew this. Did anyone else? It's hard talking to a moron, especially when he's the lead kid of the popular freshman boys. Because whether you talk moron back or you don't talk moron back, you're probably going to piss him off, and if you piss him off, you're probably not going to be part of the group anymore.

“Trev? Dude. Don't just sit there and say nothing. Tell me what's up. Tell me you're not going to go out with her so that I can trust you. So we can all trust you.”

 

27

Carolina doesn't sit with Trevor at lunch

Katherine didn't say anything about the party when she picked me up on Tuesday morning. I wasn't going to say anything. Obviously. But Peggy didn't say anything at all. Then I noticed Katherine wasn't saying anything at all. And so, the three of us just drove to school in silence. Sooo uncomfortable.

Peggy clung near me on the way to biology, which was fine, but you know, she hadn't sat next to me half the time last week, and now I knew she was going to sit next to me in class and I wanted to be a good friend, but I also wanted to sit next to Trevor because … because, I just did. Even if he wasn't my boyfriend, we did say we liked each other, and you sit next to people you like, right?

But Peggy was my best friend forever and so I decided I would sit between them. Which was not as complicated as I was thinking it would be, but then I put my folder on the desk to my right after we sat down and Peggy said, “Who are you saving that seat for?”

“Trevor,” I said as I got out my phone.

“Who are you texting?”

“Trevor,” I said. And even though all I did was say his name twice, Peggy knew I liked him again and he probably liked me and not her. She also knew I hadn't told her about it, which best friends are supposed to do.

She said, “I think he found out I was into upperclassmen like Carl.” Carl was the junior who was molesting her at the party right before she puked. I'm surprised she even remembered his name. I'm sure Carl wishes he could forget her name. I'm being mean. Gosh. I shouldn't be mean about Peggy. I love her, but I kind of hated her right then.

“Yeah, I don't know. Maybe,” I said, and I said “maybe” because it was the nice thing to say, even though I knew Trevor never liked her and Peggy was being such a liar.

“You're being really strange, Carrie,” Peggy said, which was her way of saying—right then—she hated me too. And this made me sad but then Trevor walked into biology and he looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and, gosh, I didn't care if Peggy hated me forever as long as Trevor looked at me like that. That sounds horrible. Horrible! But it was sooo true I wanted to scream it right at her face. But I didn't. Obviously.

*   *   *

Trevor didn't ask me to sit with him at lunch. Maybe I should have asked him. But Kendra said, “Let him make some of the first moves or he won't feel good about himself,” and I wasn't sure why me asking him to sit with me at lunch would make Trevor not like himself, but Kendra sounded really confident, so I listened.

But at lunch, I wished I hadn't because I couldn't focus on anything Peggy was saying or Kendra or the other soccer girls. It was about school and sports and stupid stuff and all I wanted to do was be next to Trevor. We wouldn't have to say anything, just be there, and, I don't know, smile and let everyone know that we were together and …

Ugh. This is really hard, combining friends and school and liking boys. I wish I could have an on/off switch in my brain so I could think about things only when I wanted to or needed to and then I wouldn't think about things I wanted to when I needed to think about something else. That makes sense, right? I think so.

Anyway, so I was trying not to look across the cafeteria toward Trevor. It was impossible to see him through all the people, so it was really just staring at nothing except the idea of where he might be sitting, and what he might be doing, and thinking, and saying, and then—

Wait a minute. No, more than that:

WAIT A MINUTE!

He was suddenly taking three last steps toward our table, his tray in his hand, like he had just appeared out of fog, except that is silly, but really, it was like he had superpowers that allowed him to just materialize and, whoosh, there he was. He looked so amazing, and tall, and handsome, and best, best, best of all, he was looking right at me and he said, “Mind if I sit by you?”

And Peggy—because she had been taken over by an evil witch!—said, “This is our table.” Oh my gosh, I despised every inch of her whole stupid body, but I didn't say anything to her, I just focused on Trevor and I said, “Of course you can sit here!” I wish I hadn't said it sounding like I was five years old, but Trevor liked it, I could tell, and then he sat next to me. Kendra was on the other side and Peggy sat across from us. She was still possessed because she said, “What's wrong with your table?” But before I could say,
He just wanted to be close to me
, I stopped myself because I would have sounded so dumb, and anyway, Trevor said, “I think I need new friends.” But it sounded cool and tough, not desperate or pathetic like I probably would have.

Then I said, “I'll be your friend,” which, obviously, sounded pathetic. But maybe Trevor didn't think so because he gave me a super-small, almost secret smile, like he was a spy who had outsmarted everyone.

Kendra said, “I think Trevor wants to be more than your friend,” and I almost died, but all the soccer girls besides Peggy laughed. Then the second it got quiet (well, quiet at our table, the cafeteria was the least quiet place ever), Trevor said, “That's true.” Which was sooo cool. My boyfriend is cool! Not just nice and attractive and amazing. Cool. (I know he's not officially my boyfriend, but, well, you know what I mean.)

Peggy said, “I have to go,” and gave me this super-intense look that said,
You are such a bitch,
and then stood up and left. We never give that look to each other, so it made me super nervous and confused. Like, what was I supposed to do? I would have followed her and made things better every day of my life except today. Because TODAY Trevor was sitting next to me, and to get up and go after Peggy would be to leave Trevor by himself and I couldn't do that. Just couldn't. So I let Peggy walk off, and just when I thought I might cry, Trevor asked, “Is something wrong?” and touched my back with his hand. Oh. My. Gosh. I love him so much. I know you think I couldn't possible love him already. But I do. I do. I do. I do. I do. I do. I do.

“Carolina?” he said, and he said it perfectly.

I do.

 

28

Trevor makes cereal twice

On Wednesday morning, when Lily and I were eating cereal, my mom walked into the kitchen and asked, “Where's your dad?”

Lily responded faster than I did, mostly because she cares more about our mom not feeling like an idiot. “He flew to Los Angeles very early for work, Mom. Remember?”

“Oh. Right. I remember. When's he coming back?”

“Thursday,” Lily said.

“Oh,” my mom said, then leaned against the kitchen island. She was feeling stupid, and I felt bad about not caring.