Reluctantly, I let him change the subject.If he doesn’t want to tell me who he was seeing last summer, then I can’t make him.It sounds like he’s still not ready to share.It sounds like whoever it was hurt him.And that hurts my heart.Collin deserves to feel all the phases, especially the one that makes him feel loved.
What are you going to do about Danika?” Jaz asks at Just’s after school on Wednesday.We always have a half day before Thanksgiving, and Just’s is packed with Hollis students from middle school to high school.It’s so loud, I can barely hear her question.
“They got into another fight at the party after the dance last weekend.She threw a glass at him.Almost hit him in the head with it,” Darcy tells me.“He carried her out, kicking and screaming.”
She’s looking behind me.I turn to find Sean, Livvy and a couple others squeezed into a booth two tables down from ours, along with Danika and Oren.She’s feeding him a fry.He has a couple scratches on his neck and cheek.I turn, not wanting to see more.
“It was a show.”Jaz shakes her head.
My stomach bottoms out.I need a minute to let this settle.
“Were you able to talk to her?”I ask.
“She’s avoiding all of us.”Jaz glances behind me again before refocusing on her fries, dipping one in barbecue sauce.
“Except Livvy.”Darcy rests her head on Jaz’s shoulder.“I don’t understand Livvy.”
“Neither do I,” I tell her.“I keep feeling like she wants something out of this, but I don’t know what.I thought she might have a thing for Oren.I mean, they’ve always been friends, right?”
“I wondered that too.But, yeah, they’re just friends,” Jaz says.“I don’t trust her though.”
I sigh, sipping on my shake.“I miss her.”
“Livvy?”Darcy asks, confused.
“Danika,” I say with a small laugh.“She doesn’t even look at me when we’re at dance.It’s so weird, being in the same room as her and she’s not really there.More than anything, I’m worried about her.”
“So, what do we do?”Darcy’s brows are pinched in concern, and her lip juts out in a subtle pout.With her freckles and big hazel eyes, she looks like an adorable doll.
“I asked my peer-mentor advisor about it… hypothetically.She said I should be there for her.To support her as my friend even if I can’t support the relationship.And if I can, offer ways for her to find help.But it needs to be her decision.”She also gave me brochures for when she’s ready.Except I’m worried when that’ll be.The last time a relationship took over her life like this, she ended up hospitalized.
A burst of laughter cuts through the buzz of voices.I know that laugh.I miss it.Except the real version of it.This version is too loud.Too forced.Too fake.
“I don’t know how to even be around them,” I confess.“How am I supposed to be supportive?”
“Maybe try to talk to her alone, after dance or something,” Jaz advises.
“I’ll try.”It’s all I can do, right?I keep feeling like I need to fight for my friend.I can’t continue to be a silent spectator to their toxicity—even though I’m an avid conflict avoider.My churning stomach agrees.Before she ends up in a hospital again.
“Tell us about you and—”
“Your luuuv,” Darcy finishes in a singsong voice with googly eyes.
My lips twist together, fighting the smile.I throw French fries at them both when they laugh at me.
Ididn’t realize this thingbetween you and Jonathan was so serious,” my father says while we dry the dishes after Thanksgiving dinner.We spent the morning delivering meals to families.And the afternoon eating with a table full of relatives who we only see once or twice a year from both sides of the family.Except for my brother, who was notably absent.
They’ve all gone now.My mother’s at a movie with her sisters—a tradition of theirs.Magda is with her family in Jersey.It’s just me and my dad, cleaning up.
“It is,” I say, not knowing where he’s going with this.And I don’t want to find out, so I redirect the questioning.“I didn’t know you and his mother dated.Or that you and his dad werebest friends.Seems like something you might’ve mentioned… once or twice.”
“It was so long ago.I guess I didn’t think it was relevant,” he sidesteps.“We’re not the same people anymore.”
“What were you like then?”I ask, genuinely curious.He hands me a platter to dry while he leans his back against the sink, toweling a wineglass.
“Well… I guess I was just the typical, clueless teenage boy.”He releases an uncomfortable chuckle.
“Who was best friends with Hal Reeves.You’ve always compared him to Jonathan.Were they really that much alike?Did you get into fights too?Were you a troublemaker, Dad?”I tease, but not really.I want to understand why he’s always comparing Jonathan to his father.
