My brother’s voice was almost cold. “Call Da and Dad, Mads. Call them while you walk back to Shelly’s dorm.”
“Austin, I—”
“Mads?”
I spun around to see Marco longboarding across the parking lot. He wasn’t in his State Night spirit wear anymore, just wearing a pair of sweats and a PRINCETON SOCCER pullover with cheeks pink from the cold. I gritted my teeth. Half of me wanted to hug him, so relieved he was here, but the other half wanted to punch him. “Marco?”
“Wait, Álvarez?” Austin asked. “Put Marco on the phone.”
They didn’t speak for long. I could hear Austin yelling, but I couldn’t decipherwhathe was yelling. Marco did a lot of solemn nodding. “I’m going to walk you back to Forbes,” he said after hanging up and handing my phone back to me. He jerked his head to Wawa. “We can get an Icee first?”
“An Icee sounds good,” I said. “But Forbes doesn’t.”
Marco sighed. “Mads…”
“They left me there, Marco.” My voice jumped an octave. “Everyoneleft me there, but Shelly alsoabandonedme. Your whatever-you-call-her is supposed to watch out for me while I’m here, but instead decided to blow off all my calls and textswhen I needed help. I’m not going to go have a slumber party with her after that.”
“You won’t need to,” he said. “She’s not…” He trailed off and ran his hand through his hair. Awkwardly.
“Mmm,” I said. “Got it.”
Shelly was not in her room. She was in Marco’s room, probably all snuggled up in his toasty-warm bed waiting for him to return with the late-night goodies he’d clearly come here to collect.
Whatever,I thought, feeling pinpricks at the corners of my eyes.If Marco wants to be with a girl like Shelly, what-fucking-ever.
Marco gently mentioned Forbes again, but I barely heard him, busy texting someone.I’ll call my parents now, Katie wrote back.Austin wants Marco to walk you there.
Not necessary, I said, Katie’s childhood truth or dare game on my mind. Sneaking out of her house at midnight and walking to Wawa when she was only thirteen. I was seventeen; it would be a piece of cake.You were alone when you did it.
But I was still scared, she wrote.Have Marco walk you.
I sighed, then looked at Marco. “You can take me somewhere,” I said miserably. “But it’s not Forbes.”
Summer
Twelve
Join us for a
Bridal Shower
in honor of
Catherine Gallant
Saturday, June 16th at noon
1989 Archer Way
Ardmore, PA 19003
rsvp to [email protected]
registered at theknot.com/allinwithaustin
I stared at the invitation while Nana drove. It was beautiful, the card stock thick and cream-colored with a light blue watercolor bow, white hydrangeas springing from the bow’s ribbon. The gold script underneath looked effortless. “I never knew she spelled Catherine with aC,” I remarked. “I always thought it was with aK.”
“I didn’t either,” Nana replied as she flipped her blinker and merged into the right lane. “It’s very Kate Middleton of her.”
