I knew Sam was about to hurt me. I wanted to hurt him first.
“You know whatveritymeans, right?” I sat up. Everywhere, people were laughing. Everywhere, night was about to come down.
“July,” he said again.
“Answer the question.” My voice was hard. I’d never talked to him like this before. But he’d earned it. “Do you know whatveritymeans?”
He sat up, too.
“It’s the name of the first owner’s daughter,” he said. His voice was gentle, perplexed.He’s humoring me,I thought, and the pain of that, the humiliation of it, made me know this was really happening. He could humor me because I was no longer someone who mattered to him. He was placating me like a child, not fighting with me like a girlfriend. “They have that whole sign about it near the door. When he started the business back in the 1930s, he named it after her.”
“You’re right.” I looked at him then. Right in the eyes. Neither of us flinched. “But it’s not only a name, Sam. It’s a name that is actually a word. Like Hope. Or Faith.” Sam had always said that I was smart. That he liked that. But he hadn’t liked it enough, had he? He hadn’t likedmeenough. “Did you know that?”
“No,” he said.
“So,” I said. “You don’t actually know whatveritymeans.”
“I guess I don’t.” His voice was gentle.
“Truth,” I said. “Veritymeans truth.”
Sam was silent.
“So,” I said. “Tell me the truth. You’re about to break up with me, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I like you.” He looked me straight in the eyes, his voice gentle. “I think I love you, even.”
“What the hell, Sam?” I said. I wasn’t sure what to do with my body. I had that feeling I always got when I needed tomove. Like when I was sitting in class for too long, or in church, or when something was happening that made my brain tell mewe have to go.I wanted to run and I couldn’t. I stood up and folded my arms across my chest instead. “You’re breaking up with me and you’re also telling me that you love me for the first time?”
Sam stood up, too. He was looking at me, begging me to understand, but I didn’t. At all.
“It’s just that—” Sam stopped.
“What?” I said. “Say it.”
Sam shook his head. “You know how when you’re withsomeone, and someone else asks you about them, you say, like,she’s really hot.Orshe’s really fun.Or really smart, or cool, or whatever. With you I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Was he telling me he didn’t think I was any of those things?
“Because you’re just... really.”
“Reallywhat?”
“Really everything.”
I exhaled in frustration. I could feel tears burning behind my eyelids. “I don’t understand.”
“Remember when I told you you were dangerous?” he asked. “I didn’t mean that you did dangerous stuff. Although you do. You guys play with fire all the time at the jump. I meant—” He swallowed, spoke again. “I meant that you are dangerousfor me. I’m here to be in college. I’m here to have fun and learn and figure out who I am. I’m not here to fall crazy in love with someone.”
“You’re not crazy in love with me,” I said. “If you were, you wouldn’t be doing this.” I took a step away. I couldn’t hold still much longer.
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere else,” I said.
“Can I drive you there?”
“No.”
