“We were in Italy yesterday,” she says. “My dad couldn’t get back.” Italy. Right. I remember when we used to make pizzas at Rob’s together. I guess life is pretty different now.
“Sounds exciting.”
“I guess,” she says flatly.
Okay, then. “So, what brings you guys back?”
“My mom wanted a change. LA gets tiring after a while.” She readjusts her book bag. It’s Tod’s. White leather. The kind Olivia wanted to get this year.
“Mhm, I’ll bet.”
“Have you ever lived there?”
“Oh, no,” I say. “But, you know, I get it.” Of course I’ve never lived there. I would have called her. We would have been friends, wouldn’t we?
She gives me a look that I take to mean I definitely donotget it. Luckily, we’re at Mr. Johnson’s office. So for now, my time with Juliet is coming to a close.
“Here’s your stop. He should be in there.” I point to the left, past the entryway.
“Thanks.”
“We usually have lunch in the courtyard, if you want to join us. And I guess our families will get together, so I’ll see you.” The silhouette of Rob’s and my parents in our living room last night comes back to me. Something tells me that they’re not quite as interested in rekindling a friendship as I am. And I am. Seeing her again makes me think about how close we were, and how I miss her, even after all these years. Maybe once she settles in, she’ll let her guard down.
“Sure,” Juliet says. She smiles, and it seems genuine, or at least as close to it as I’ve come so far. I glance down at my watch, and I’m already a minute late for Spanish. Charlie is going to kill me. I open my mouth to say good-bye, but I’m met with the back of her head. She has already moved on.
Scene Five
“So I’m telling Jake thisis ridiculous,” Charlie is saying. “I mean, who would possibly camp out outside an IHOP? It’s not like it’s the opening ofStar Wars, or whatever. It’s a twenty-four-hour diner.”
“That’s why I love Ben,” Olivia says. “He’s totally unexpected.”
“Love?”Charlie guffaws, and some of her sandwich goes flying across the table.
“No, notlove,” Olivia says, blushing. “You know what I mean.”
“I just don’t understand.” Charlie sighs. “I ask Jake to plan a fun weekend activity, and this is what he comes up with?”
“He wants you to camp out at an IHOP?” I ask. I’m draped over the table sipping on a Coke. I’ve forgone sparkling water today. I need the caffeine.
“Yes,” Charlie says. “Obviously my life is a joke.”
Olivia nods in agreement, and Charlie shoves her. “I’m just trying to be supportive,” Olivia mumbles. “Anyway, I thought we were going to Malibu?”
“We cannot go to Malibu. We have a school dance. A dance we areplanning.” Charlie looks at me, and I’m surprised to see her eyes are welling up. “I’m just so sick of doing everything all by myself.”
“You can’t let him get to you like this,” I say. I can’t believe she’s this upset about Jake. I mean, it’s Jake. He still thinks fart jokes are funny and refers to his parents by their first names.
But then I realize I have it all wrong, and I could practically kick myself for being so stupid. She’s not thinking about Jake. She’s thinking about her mom. She presses her fingertips against her temples, and it’s all I can do not to go over and lean my head on her shoulder and wrap my arms around her. She wouldn’t let me, though. Lunchtime in the courtyard is not the place she wants to be talking about her mom dying. Not that she likes to talk about her at all, actually. I think we’ve had exactly two conversations about it since her mom passed away in the seventh grade. The first was when we started high school. My mom took us shopping for back-to-school clothes, and Charlie started crying in the dressing room, saying how she wasn’t sure if she should buy this black sweater because her mom always said she looked so much prettier in color.
The second time was when she decided to sleep with Matt. She knew her mother wouldn’t approve, and she started asking me all these crazy questions about whether I believed in God and what if religion had it right and we were going to hell. Because really, she said, how would we know?
Charlie’s comment has silenced the three of us, and I’m not sure Olivia understands why, but she’s not saying anything either way.
When Charlie’s mom first got sick, Charlie slept over at my house for a week. She refused to go home. She wouldn’t even talk to her mom on the phone. I remember being terrified. I think I was more scared of her reaction than I was when her mom actually died. There is something about Charlie that is so hard sometimes. So set and determined. It was like she couldn’t figure out a theory on death, and until she did, she wasn’t going home.
“If you had to rank who is cutest in our class, who would you list as the top five?” Olivia asks, looking thoughtful.
“Do they have to be in order?” Charlie asks. She looks grateful for the subject change.
