“So,” Sabine says as we pick up our pace. “That was tense.”
“That?” I choke back a laugh. “What you witnessed was a tame interaction with Sumner.”
“Hmm,” she says thoughtfully. “I always thought he was into you.”
Now I really laugh. “Trust me, he’s not.”
And that’s how I find myself telling Sabine about last summer. My all-consuming humiliation prevented me from telling Analiese, so it’s a relief to get if off my chest.
“Delaney, I’m so sorry. You really liked him, didn’t you?”
The raw disappointment comes flooding back, taking me by surprise. It’s been easy to fall into familiar patterns here, to revert to old habits despite the confused anger swelling inside me. As much as I’d hoped to erase the feelings that had accumulated in my heart, they’d only dimmed.
I remember the evening it fell apart. We’d both fallen quiet lying on the cool grass in my backyard, nearly shoulder to shoulder.
“My dad used to tell me that if you saw Earth from another galaxy, you’d be watching it back in time,” I’d said. “When we see a star burn out, it’s already happened years ago. And I’d give anything to do that—to rewind and capture all the details I missed the first time. I could find my family here, happy again.”
Sumner tucked an arm under his head. “Which moment, if you had to choose?”
I blinked up at the stars. “The ones I took for granted,” I heard myself say. “Not just the birthdays or milestones or vacations, but the ones where he poked his head in my room to say good night. Or the time he came home with glow-in-the-dark stars for my ceiling and we spent an hour putting them up.Oh—I used to get so irritated when he’d accidentally call me Madelene or Jared. But god, I’d give anything to hear that mistake one more time.”
Sumner rocked his body toward me. He had shreds of dead grass in his hair and on the sleeves of his worn T-shirt. Sincere contentment formed in his eyes, pure and unfiltered, as he held my gaze. “I think that’s beautiful,” he said in a hushed whisper. “Finding home again in the small moments.”
I remember how his mouth felt against mine. How quickly I’d yanked that thread, unraveling everything.
Maybe that’s why it hurt so much. I hadn’t just liked Sumner. We’d had real conversations, sharing fears and joys and memories. The teasing jabs and light bickering were present, but it felt deeper, like I’d opened a sealed piece of myself to him. It felt so much stronger than like.
“It’s probably for the best,” I say to avoid answering Sabine’s question. “Honestly? Analiese always said he brought out the worst in me.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” She raises an eyebrow. “I mean, yes, I understand he can be a bit pretentious, but he doesn’t bring out the worst in you. He brings out this assertive, unperturbed side of you that’s…ah!” The words come to her. “Determined and spirited. It’s a side Analiese overshadows, if we’re being honest.”
Is that how she sees me when he’s around? Does anyone else see it too? I’ve never considered this.
I must have a strange look on my face because she says, “It’s not a bad thing. But, you know, I wouldn’t make a habit of letting others define you.”
Her words strike deeper than I expect.
“What if,” I begin slowly, “you don’t know who you’re supposed to be?”
Sabine tilts her head, gathering her long hair in her hands and tossing it over her shoulder. Her lips press together as she thinks. In the distance, the faint thrum of bass emanates from the athletic center.
“I think,” she says, “maybe that’s what this period of our lives is for, is it not? I mean”—she gives me a sidelong glance—“even the whole presentation ball. It’s about presenting who we are. Or who we wish to be. Not the person society tells us to be.”
I’ve been so focused on the fundraising portion of the gala that I’d almost forgotten about the ceremony. I’ve been so consumed by checking boxes—showing up to meetings or community events—that I hadn’t spared proper focus on my weekly meetings with Mrs.Vidar-Tett. I’d written it off as useless, something reserved for others and not for me, forever practical.
“You know, you and Analiese were inseparable, like you didn’t need anyone else. So when you joined the Capture team I was like,Hell yeah. She’s embracing something new. And you know what I think?”
We slow as we reach the double doors. “What?”
“Youwantto branch out.” She smiles as she tugs the handle, releasing a wash of conversation and upbeat pop music. “Don’t let your fear get in your way.”
29
William finds me in LangleyCenter the following afternoon for our etiquette class and apologizes for his behavior. Him drinking with my ex who I’d only pursued to get Sumner off my case was not something I’d foreseen, but when he tells me he’s sorry—how foolish it was—it’s clear he means it. He looks more tired than usual, a dullness around his eyes, but there’s still a signature pep in his voice.
Hushed chatter bounces and echoes in the large space. Folding chairs are set up in four long rows that face the stage, with students claiming seats as they trickle inside. The podium is back, set up for our hired etiquette coach, whose thunderous voice jolts through the microphone as he discusses what falls under the umbrella of etiquette, which is not simply knowing how fancy tableware is set, but how to navigate all types of social conversation.
William listens intently from beside me, but my unsettled mind drifts. In a perfect world, William is the ideal guy—isn’t he? Handsome, charismatic, encouraging. Unstoppable positive energy. Sexy British accent. That’s not the problem. The problem is entertaining the reality of us. How is it fair to him? He’s honest abouteverything, maybe to a fault, but I haven’t been. I’m hidingwhat I know about his future. It’s no small secret, and it’s not fair to build a relationship on deceit.
