I hadn’t given that part, the actual details, much thought. “I’m sure Jeremiah has some ideas,” I said.
Jeremiah showed up in an hour, just like he said he would. We watched from the living room window when his car pulled into Taylor’s circular driveway. “Oh my God, he looks so cute,” Taylor said, running over to the dresser and putting on lip gloss. “Why didn’t you tell me how cute he got?”
The last time she’d seen Jeremiah, he’d been a head shorter and scrawny. It was no wonder she’d gone after Steven instead. But he just looked like Jeremiah to me.
I picked up my bag and headed outside, with Taylor right on my heels.
When I opened the front door, Jeremiah was standing on the front steps. He was wearing his Red Sox cap, and his hair was shorter than the last time I’d seen him. It was strange to see him there, on Taylor’s doorstep. Surreal.
“I was just about to call you,” he said, taking off his hat. He was a boy unafraid of hat hair, of looking stupid. It was one of his most endearing qualities, one I admired because I pretty much lived in constant fear of embarrassing myself.
I wanted to hug him, but for some reason—maybe because he didn’t reach for me first, maybe because I felt shy all of a sudden—I held back. Instead, I said, “You got here really fast.”
“I sped like crazy,” he said, and then, “Hey, Taylor.”
She got on her tiptoes and hugged him and I regretted not hugging him too.
When she stepped away, Taylor surveyed him approvingly and said, “Jeremy, you look good.” She smiled at him, waiting for him to tell her she looked good too. When he didn’t, she said, “That was your cue to tell me how good I look. Duh.”
Jeremiah laughed. “Same old Taylor. You know you look good. You don’t need me to tell you.”
The two of them smirked at each other.
“We’d better get going,” I said.
He took my overnight bag off my shoulder and we followed him to the car. While he made room for mybag in the trunk, Taylor grabbed me by the elbow and said, “Call me when you get wherever you’re going, Cinderbelly.” She used to call me that when we were little, when we were obsessed withCinderella. She’d sing it right along with the mice.Cinderbelly, Cinderbelly.
I felt a sudden rush of affection for her. Nostalgia, a shared history, counted for a lot. More than I’d realized. I’d miss her next year, when the two of us were at different colleges. “Thanks for letting me leave my car here, Tay.”
She nodded. Then she mouthed the wordCLOSURE.
“Bye, Taylor,” Jeremiah said, getting into the car.
I got in too. His car was a mess, like always. There were empty water bottles all over the floor and backseat. “Bye,” I called out as we began to drive away.
She stood there and waved and watched us. She called back, “Don’t forget your promise, Belly!”
“What’d you promise?” Jeremiah asked me, looking in the rearview mirror.
“I promised her I’d be back in time for her boyfriend’s Fourth of July party. It’s going to be on a boat.”
Jeremiah nodded. “You’ll be back in time, don’t worry. Hopefully I’ll have you back by tonight.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay.”
I guessed I wouldn’t need that overnight bag after all.
Then he said, “Taylor looks exactly the same.”
“Yeah, I guess she does.”
And then neither of us said anything. We were just silent.
chaptereightJEREMIAH
I can pinpoint the exact moment everything changed. It was last summer. Con and I were sitting on the porch, and I was trying to talk to him about what a dick the new assistant football coach was.
“Just stick it out,” he said.
