“Got it.” I nod. “Any plans for after graduation?”
Tyler suddenly looks even more uncomfortable than he did a mere few seconds ago, not meeting my eyes now as he tugs on the hem of his hoodie. “I, uh, don’t think so. I talked to my parents, and taking a gap year makes the most sense for me right now. I can always assess things later to see how I feel.”
Even though that’s the complete opposite of what I’d choose for myself, it’s so very Tyler. It makes my chest ache to push out the next words, but I force the conversation to continue, becausewe’ve come this far into talking to each other again and I’m not quite ready to back out yet. “Do you have any idea what you’re going to do in the interim? Work? Travel?”
He shrugs. “I’ll figure it out as I go, I guess. That’s not why I’m going to Hawai?i, though. I’m heading out there to visit Lucas and Ella—they just had their first daughter. Lucas is going to be away for some military training next week, so we figured I’d go out to see them now. I went back when they first moved, and it was pretty cool.”
The mention of Tyler’s older brother brings back hazy memories of photos of him in his marine uniform scattered throughout the house. Although my family is incredibly small—no siblings or living grandparents, and a father I never knew—Tyler’s is absolutely massive. Tyler’s older brother, Lucas, had married a lovely woman named Ella. Both of his parents are also one of six children, so there were plenty of aunts and uncles and cousins to go around at the family events I attended. While it was warm and inviting to be enveloped into his family, it also drew attention to the emptiness of my childhood, of dinners alone with my mother, of the barbeques and holiday dinners that I never had or could invite Tyler to.
But of course, I can’t escape the coo that comes out when he mentions a baby. “That’s adorable. Congratulations! Wow, Uncle Ty at only eighteen years old. Impressive.”
“I know, right?” He beams and thanks the flight attendant as she passes by with a basket full of chips, handing me a bag before opening one of his own. “It’s kind of weird to think that once upon a time, my brother was trying to shove my head into the toilet pretty much daily, but now he’s the father of an adorable little human being.”
I can picture that bullying clear as day, and even witnessed it once or twice. “What’s her name?”
He grins excitedly, clearly animated when it comes to his newborn niece. “Mele. Her name means ‘music’ in Hawaiian. I don’t know if you remember, but Ella’s a really good flute player. She—”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I interrupt with a laugh. “I remember.” I can recall the beautiful, crisp notes floating along the wind at many of Tyler’s family’s barbeques during the summer we were together. “She’s incredible.”
Tyler nods and glances into his bag of chips, lost in thought and suddenly looking a little sad. “Yeah. They moved out to the base in KaneThe fall we broke up.“They’re living a great life out there, don’t get me wrong, but it’s weird being the only child at home.”
“Tell me about it.” He’s preaching to the choir with that one, and he knows it.
Tyler blinks in surprise and breaks his intense stare down into his chips, realization about what he said dawning on his face. “Sorry, Ol—Olive. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” And I mean it. Tyler already knows how I feel about being an only child—the product of a two-week stand with a sailor eighteen years ago, back when Mom was even more serious about trying to find The One. Only that time, the man she’d been with (my dad, I guess, although he never was one to me) didn’t break up with her because they’d fallen out of love. He broke up with her because he was alreadymarried.
Clearly, I’ve never had any desire to connect with my sleazeball of a father, and Mom never settled with someone longenough to give me that long-desired sibling. So I’ve lived vicariously through Tyler with Lucas, as well as with Jack and his sister Isabelle. They’re both lucky to have those coveted older siblings, mingling at family gatherings, calling each other on the phone. Another thing I wanted and never got.
Tyler coughs in an awkward attempt to redirect the conversation. “Enough about me. Why are you visiting Mr.Two First Names before spring break? Just because?”
Because I’m pretty sure he isn’t cheating on me, but I want to check to make sure. Because he’s been weird lately. Because something about us doesn’t feel right, which is throwing me off because I never felt that way when I was with you.I don’t say any of this, instead settling on a simple lie. “Because I love and miss him, obviously.”
Shock registers across Tyler’s face, as if I’ve slapped him. “You love him?”
It’s only been a year, but he can’t seriously be that clueless. “Why wouldn’t I?” While me visiting Jack may not necessarily be just because I miss him, it doesn’t mean that I still don’t love him. Those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive, right?
Tyler coughs and hurries to course-correct. “No, you…you should. Obviously. He’s your boyfriend. Youshouldlove him.” His neck flushes pink, clearly out of his element. He’s a long way from being the carefree, charming boy I first fell in love with at Suburban Slices. For only the second time in all the years I’ve known him, the first being a day we’d both rather forget, Tyler Ferris is at a loss for words.
Finally, he manages to find them. “And how are things with his friends? You get along with them all okay?”
“We get along fine.” And that really is the truth—there isn’t much more to say about it other than yes, I do get along with themfine.If falling in love with Tyler felt as easy as breathing, falling into a relationship and life with Jack felt like a well-executed plan.
Technically, if anyone was to blame for putting Jack in my path, it’s my junior-year chemistry teacher. It was an AP class, which usually had a bigger mix of all the grades, and so, for our first lab assignment that fall semester, I found myself paired up with a senior.
Not just any senior, though—the elusive, illustrious Jack Cameron. Golden boy of the senior class, the one that everyone wanted to know and be known by. But the thing that made Jack so charming to me wasn’t his money, or his parents’ connections, or the fact that he was older and thus, by the laws that governed high school logic, wiser. From the very first day where we slid onto the stools of the workbench in the back of Mr.Thatcher’s classroom, he was…completely normal. Just a tall, toned teenage boy with wheat-gold hair that shone in the sunlight beaming through the windows and piercing blue eyes to match.
“Jack,” he offered by way of explanation as I started lining up glass beakers for the in-class experiment, trying to keep my cool because one of the most popular senior guys in school was speaking to me, which the field hockey girls would go gaga over at practice. “Your name is Olive, right?”
I remember being taken aback. “Uh, y-yeah. How did you know?” The class had started a few days ago and Mr.Thatcher was mercifully not one of those teachers who made us do those embarrassing icebreakers, so it’s not like Jack had any reason to know me. But he’d only smiled at my question as he picked upone of the pipettes and the sheet of instructions, looking curiously at my planner stacked neatly next to me on the bench.
“I’ve seen you around,” he said simply. “And I’ve seen you on the honor roll list, too. Couldn’t have been paired up with anyone better, which is a relief, because I suck at chemistry, and you seem organized enough to help us both out.”
I felt myself light up at his praise, pleased to be recognized. I didn’t have a lot going on once I scaled back on field hockey—moving to the intramural team—to focus on SAT prep junior year, so it made my heart feel fizzy to get some recognition for throwing myself into my studies (and my planner-stickering). “Thank you. I’ve heard you’re not too bad yourself.” This got him to chuckle, but we didn’t say much else as we got to work.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” Jack asked, cheeks a dusky shade of pink as he kept his eyes trained on the bubbling liquid in front of us. I was in the middle of jotting down the final notes about the conclusion of the experiment, and my pen halted.
“Me? Why?” This was not following the laws of high school politics. Juniors didnothang out with seniors. Not unless they were required to, like in gym class or in labs. They were acquaintances at most. And they definitely didnotpass party invitations among each other unless you qualified for one of the only two exceptions:
