Chapter 5

I’d just reached my locker when I saw Colin heading my way—two cheerleaders in tow. I ducked behind the door, pretending I hadn’t seen him. I had been at pains to avoid him all morning. I only dared emerge to be on time for my next class. I quickly grabbed my books and hurried down the hallway.

“Annie, wait!” Colin called after me.

Damn! I stopped on the spot but didn’t turn. A second later he caught up to me.

“What happened yesterday,” he scratched the back of his head. “OK, I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. It was just . . . you looked so sad and helpless and . . . sweet. I got a bit carried away. I just wanted to comfort you. It . . . it . . . could just as well have been a kiss on your cheek. Sorry. I—I shouldn’t have done it. I really am sorry.”

I looked up. “So, we’re just friends?”

“Yes, of course.” He smiled, and I was relieved.

“Thank you,” I said, and put my arms around him. A friendly hug, just as we had shared a hundred times before. But Colin reacted differently than he usually did. He stiffened up before quickly disengaging from our hug. I was surprised but caught myself quickly.

“Will I see you later?” I asked. “Corinne and I have to get our English presentation done.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Till then.”

“Till then.” I turned to walk away.

“Annie?”

“Yes.”

“Are you feeling better?”

I pressed my lips together. “I’ll be OK.”

As I walked down the hall, I felt his gaze on my back.

I didn’t want to go home and risk running into my mother, so I went into town after school to kill time until it was time to go to Corinne’s house.

“Hey, Annie.” Carl grinned as he opened the door. “What did the puppy do after its training class?”

“I don’t know, Carl. What?”

“Go for its master!” He laughed out loud. “Do you get it, Annie? Go for its master!”

“Good one, Carl,” I forced myself to smile.

“Annie’s here!” Carl shouted up the stairs.

“Send her up!” Corinne yelled from her room.

“Go straight up,” Carl said as if there still was anyone within two miles who hadn’t heard her.

“Hi,” I said as I walked into Corinne’s room.

She sat at her desk with a pile of books next to her. “Hi, Annie. I’m done with my part.”

“Oh, good. I’m almost done with mine, too. Let’s go through it.”

We reviewed the presentation and put together our two parts, adding a few animated PowerPoint slides.

“Say,” I asked after a while, “isn’t Colin around?”

“Nah, I think he’s on a date. Why?”

“Just curious,” I casually answered.

Was that by chance? Or was he avoiding me? It shouldn’t matter. I wasn’t interested in him romantically, so if he had a date, all the better. We were friends, and it had to stay that way.

Corinne took the pen in her teeth and looked at me attentively. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean?” It was supposed to sound nonplussed, but I felt my face flushing.

“I don’t know. You’re so quiet.”

“Oh. Well . . .” I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess it’s because of Seth.”

“You’re missing him, aren’t you?”

I nodded. That wasn’t a lie.

“Come on, let’s hug.” She put her arms around me.

I had never had many friends. Some of that was me. But, it was also that my mother found something wrong with every friend I’d ever brought home. So, I appreciated it even more to have someone like Corinne in my life and by my side. I would have loved to talk with her about what had happened. Between Seth and me. Between my mother and me. Between Colin and me. But I didn’t. I needed to clear the air with each of these people. I already had with Colin. There was nothing between us even though it felt strange. I had to sit out that business with my mother. Her image of me had nothing to do with the person I really was. But no one was going to change her mind. She twisted everything to fit her point of view. I had zero intention of talking to her. There was only one solution left: get out of here. I still had to figure out what to do about Seth.

I was awake, brooding. The alarm wouldn’t go off for another hour. I looked at the ceiling. Suddenly, raw determination filled me. Seth had said he’d call, but I just couldn’t keep waiting. So, I called. I needed to call before I lost the courage to confess to him what I’d done.

“Hello?” he said in a sleepy voice.

“It’s me.”

“Annie? Everything alright?” He sounded worried. Of course, if someone called me at five in the morning, I’d think something bad had happened.

“We have to talk, Seth.” I got straight to the point. “I have to tell you something.”

“I have to tell you something, too,” he said, suddenly sounding wide awake.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

I heard him take a deep breath. “I kissed someone else.”

Was I dreaming? He had kissed someone else? Wasn’t that what I was about to confess? The sting in my heart surprised me. I gasped.

“Who?”

“A girl in my economics class. You don’t know her.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“No, we just kissed.”

Whatever I’d wanted to say got stuck in my throat.

Seth sighed. “It was Saturday. At a party. I drank too much, we danced, and . . . then we made out.”

“Made out?” I repeated, desperate to understand. That didn’t sound like kissed. The movie in my head started to roll: She was a platinum blonde and wore a tight red dress; she sat cowgirl-style on Seth’s lap, sticking her tongue down his throat while getting to work on his pants. He moaned and tore her dress off. Her full breasts fell out of her bra . . .

I shook my head to drive the images away. We remained silent for a while, then my mouth started to speak as if on its own.

“I kissed Colin.” I don’t know if I just blurted it out because I wanted to unload or because I wanted Seth to suffer as much as I did. Probably both.

He didn’t say a word. Panic spread. I felt him slipping away from me.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” I asked.

“Did you sleep with him?” The same question I had just asked. But it sounded harsher from him. As if he was in the grip of an uncontrolled, overpowering rage. I almost felt sorry for him. At least, I felt sorry that I’d just hit him over the head with the news like that.

“Of course not! It didn’t mean anything. My mother—we argued again. That’s why I drove to Corinne’s, and there was Colin—in the rain. He took me in his arms, comforted me and then . . . we kissed.” I swallowed. “It was really quick, just a kiss, and I left right after.”

“Colin? Really?!” His voice sounded unusually deep, like a growl. “I always knew something was going on there!”

“Have you lost it? There’s nothing going on. It was just a kiss! And it’s never happened before. Please don’t act like you’re all innocent. You kissed that girl! Oh, I beg your pardon—you made out with her. Unlike you, it really just was one kiss for me.”

“That’s completely different.”

“What?” I hollered. “How is that completely different?”

“Because I don’t know her and don’t give a damn about her!” he yelled back.

“Oh, I see. You’ve totally lost it! What I did is worse than what you did just because I didn’t kiss a total stranger? You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious! You see him every day at school. How can I ever trust you again?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Oh yeah? And what about the skank in your economics class? You’ll see her.”

“There’s nothing going on with her!” he yelled. Then in a calmer voice he said, “This is pointless.”

“You're right there,” I shot back angrily.

There was total silence between us for a second.

“Maybe we should take a break from each other.” Seth’s voice was ice-cold.

My eyes widened. Horrified by his words, I was speechless for a moment. Then, sheer rage grabbed me.

“Maybe we should take a break forever!”

“As you wish,” he said immediately.

“You know what, Seth? FUCK YOU!”

I threw my phone across the room. I stood so still for a moment that it was as if I’d turned to stone. Every last muscle was so tense it could shatter into tiny pieces. I pressed my fist against my mouth to suppress the scream raging inside me. I had to get out of here. Now! I didn’t care where. Just away. Clear my head. I threw some clothes on, hopped into the car, and drove off. Trees and houses flew by, blurred into one. I clawed my fingernails so deep into the steering wheel that they left small notches. My knuckles turned white I was holding on so tight. Rage nearly drove me out of my mind. I floored the gas, loudly revving the motor. I drove the old Corolla through the dawn-lit streets until it groaned. I screamed and screamed and screamed. It helped. Thank goodness, it helped! I’d have choked on my fury had I not been able to scream it out. I managed to breathe regularly again. And slowed down. The streets had been empty, but if I hadn’t gained control over myself I might have injured someone speeding like I was. My senses, a moment ago still ruled by a raging fire, gradually returned. A bit later, I was able to start thinking clearly again. I panted with exhaustion. I let myself sink into the seat. I relaxed my tense muscles, trying to find myself.

It was over. Seth and I were no longer a couple. Seth, who I thought would be my husband and the father of my children—he and I were no longer a couple. This realization fell over me like a shroud. As the emotional storm faded, sadness took its place. Oppressive, constricting sadness. As if someone had died. As if I had to say goodbye forever. Goodbye to a shared future we’d never have. Goodbye to the children who’d never be. Goodbye to the odd, insider joke-telling, duck-feeding, hand-holding married old couple we’d never be.

“Are you crazy? I almost rear-ended you, you stupid bitch!" The shout startled me. A suit had pulled up beside me in his Mercedes, and he was yelling at me through his open window. Fuck! I’d stopped. In the middle of the street. Still shocked, I mumbled an excuse, threw the car in gear so hastily, it screamed for mercy as I drove on. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I pulled a U-turn.

It was a goodbye gesture of sorts. There, on Gravelly Lake, in our secret place among the trees near the docks, Seth and I had spent almost the entire summer. Now, in November, everything here had changed so much I barely recognized it. The leaves that had sheltered and shaded us had fallen to the ground, allowing an almost unobstructed view from the street to our small refuge. But it was the same place after all—the same familiar piece of earth where we’d been in each other’s arms, hatching plans for our shared future. The same place but seemingly from another lifetime. I slumped down, kneeling next to the ancient willow with the low-hanging branches.

I spent most of the day there, sinking into sadness and self-pity while trying to think about which direction to take my life. Everything had changed. All the hope I’d invested in our shared future . . . broken. Dead. What was I still doing here? There was nothing but pain for me here. Without Seth, the magic was gone. I felt as if I was shattering into a million pieces without anyone to help pick them up and put them back together.

Chilled to the bone, I turned on the engine and cranked up the heat. School was over by now, and Corinne would be home. I decided to call her.

“Annie, where were you today?”

“Played hooky. Didn’t feel so well.” Skipping classes isn’t my style, but I wouldn’t have made it through this day.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you ill?”

“Seth and I broke up,” I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

“What?!”

I tried to explain what had happened without mentioning the kiss between me and her brother. But not all of it sense without that bit of information, so I confessed.

“I’m gonna kill him!” That was her first reaction. I feared she would charge right up to Colin’s room to strangle him with her bare hands. So, I quickly interjected.

“It’s not his fault,” I protected him. “In any case, everything’s in the clear between us. We’re just friends, nothing more. It takes two, after all. So, if you’re going to kill anybody, it’ll have to be both of us.”

“You should have called me after everything with your mother,” she said after a short silence, “and before falling prey to that Casanova brother of mine.”

“Yeah, I should have. But talking to you wouldn’t have changed Seth kissing someone else.”

“Do you know who she is?” Corinne followed up. “We could drive to Bellingham and—”

I interrupted her before she could plot our revenge in detail. “Let it be, Corinne. It’s toast. Let him be happy with some new girl.”

“You’re being rather casual about it,” she said. “You and Seth were the whole package. You’d planned everything with Seattle and all that.”

“I know.”

“What’s with your mom?”

“I wish I could break up with her, too,” I said jokingly. However, the truth was I dreaded driving home. So far, I’d managed to stay out of her way. But that couldn’t go on much longer. I sighed. I’d move away from here soon. Fall semester was nearly over, so, really, I only had spring semester to make it through.

“Is that Annie?” I heard Corinne’s dad ask in the background.

“Yes.”

“Ask her what one tidal pool said to the other.”

“I’m supposed to ask you—”

“I heard. Tell him I don’t know.”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Show me your mussels!” I heard his loud laugh move down the hallway. “Get it? Mussels.”

Shortly after five I realized there was no point delaying going home any longer. I was tired and cold. I yearned for a hot shower and my bed. As I drove home, I pictured how things with my mother would play out. Would she be silent, yell, or pretend nothing had happened? Anything was possible. But I wouldn’t have imagined in my wildest dream what I was about to find at home. My mother was nowhere to be seen. Instead Dad wanted to talk to me. OK, except he always was at his shop this time of day. This wasn’t good. Dad always stayed out of the conflicts between my mother and me, but if he had to take sides, he chose my mother’s. Just to keep the peace. I let out a deep sigh and sat down.

My mother called and told him I had stood in front of her, my hand raised, ready to strike her across the face. Apparently, I’d come to my senses in the last moment and stormed out of the house. My dad had left work and found her at home, totally out of it. She told him that she’d never be able to forget the sight of her own daughter raising her hand to her. Now that I’d shown my true self, she’d never see me the same way again.

It took a while before I understood. The only explanation I could come up with was the moment I swatted the tissue out of her hand. The way she presented everything was so absurd and twisted that I wondered if it was worth the effort to tell my father what really happened. But I did, even though I wasn’t sure he’d believe me. It didn’t matter. Nothing would change. It was done. All I could do was leave.

I seriously considered killing myself when I was in ninth grade. There was a good dose of teenage angst and melodrama, but I almost did it. The trigger was that my parents acted as if they were disappointed in me. It suddenly seemed as if they were downright ashamed of me. I didn’t know why though, and for weeks I puzzled over what I could have done wrong. One day, I worked up my courage to talk to Dad. I got on my bike and rode to his shop. At first, he evaded my questions, but finally he told me he and my mother had heard something unseemly about me when they were at our neighbors, the Fosters, for dinner one evening.

Let me explain: the Fosters’ daughter, Jenny, and I played together as children, but she stopped hanging out with me when she started high school because I was a year younger and still in middle school. Too uncool for her. Then, a year later, she developed a crush on a boy who was into me during my freshman year of high school. He showed up all the time, sat near me at lunch and during free periods, and crossed paths with me on the way home even though he lived in the opposite direction. Jenny was really jealous because her heartthrob followed me around instead of her. So, she told her parents and anyone else who’d listen that I was a slut who got it on with all the guys at school. I was only fourteen! I hadn’t so much as kissed a boy.

Jenny’s parents brought it up at that dinner, and my parents believed every word of it. They never talked to me about it though, so I only learned about it when I had it out with Dad. That my parents even thought it could be true showed how little they knew me. That they would blindly believe what others said about me without asking me upset me so much I really wanted to kill myself. But obviously, I didn’t. I’m still here.

After Seth and I broke up, things were tough. I fell into a dark hole and nearly lost my way. He didn’t call me, and I didn’t call him. Since he stayed in Bellingham most weekends, we didn’t bump into each other. During the first weeks after the breakup, I asked Corinne to inconspicuously sound out Taylor about Seth and report back. It seems he found a girlfriend quickly—I never found out if it was the same one he’d made out with—and his studies were going well. He even had a regular spot in the basketball team’s lineup.

The weekly Seth report became a fixed item on our Monday lunch break agenda. That is, until Corinne and Taylor broke up, and at that point my source dried up. Although it was my turn to help Corinne get over her pain, I often thought of Seth, imagined him with his new girl, and wondered if he was holding and kissing her the same way he’d held and kissed me. I wondered if he said the three words to her he never said to me.

I felt myself becoming numb. I hardly ate, and I always felt tired. I only talked to my mother about the absolute essentials. I did my household chores without a word, and I spent the rest of my time hiding in my room where I studied or read. On the weekends I saw Corinne or went to my grandmother’s to help her around the house or with her shopping.

As stupid as it sounds, the only thing that kept me going was biology. I made it into the final round of the National Junior Scientist Competition. Even though I didn’t win this time, my teachers showered me with praise. I got through this whole time by focusing totally on school, so I even improved my average. I got As in almost everything.

Hope resurfaced when the letter arrived from UW inviting me to an interview. My dream to leave home and study biology at a good school was within reach. I never went for half measures. All or nothing—that’s what I was best at. That applied to both Seth and my mother. A clean cut. Get as far away from home as possible. Leave all the pain behind and start from scratch. Or the hurt would never stop.

Winter finally passed, and in the early spring I drove to Seattle. To prepare for the interview, I had read the newspaper every day in the weeks before, so I was up on current events. I’d memorized the names of the US government Cabinet members and every European head of state, applied the final polish to my knowledge of biology in a crash course, practiced head math, and bought a new blouse. I’d even had my hair done.

I was prepared. Well prepared. Yet I totally bombed it. I still don’t know what happened. Pressure? Anxiety? I really don`t know. I wasn’t myself by the time I sat down. I was so nervous I couldn’t even answer the simplest question. One of the most humiliating experiences of my life—I don’t want to get into it. I was still totally out of it on the drive home. The only thought my brain was capable of was I failed. Those two words echoed in my brain over and over again: I failed.

I somehow made it home, barely dragged myself up to my room, and collapsed.

It took me three days before I was able to talk about it. Dad was the first I told what had happened.

“I’m such an idiot. I focused so totally on Seattle, it was the only place I applied to," I confided to him, rolling my eyes. “Well, except for the long-shot joke applications to Ivy League schools on the East Coast.”

“Can’t you . . . ,” Dad started, but I shook my head.

“It’s too late to try anywhere else. The application deadlines are over.”

He frowned and then gave me a pitying look.

“Then try again next year,” he suggested. “You can help with the bookkeeping at the shop until then. I can’t pay a lot, but at least there won’t be a gap in your résumé.”

I nodded.

“Chin up, it’ll turn out alright.”

“You think?”

“You’ll find your path, I’m sure of that.”

I smiled sadly. “Well, at least one of us is.”

Dad put his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

“I love you,” I said quietly.

“I love you, too, dear.”

The next weeks were an utter horror. The hole I hadn’t yet crawled out of since breaking up with Seth became wider and deeper. I fell and fell and fell and fell.

I lost all motivation at school and let my courses go. But one Saturday morning, when I entered the kitchen, Dad smiled at me over his coffee cup as he held up a thin envelope.

“There’s a letter for you,” Dad said.

“Why are you grinning?” I asked skeptically.

He turned the envelope around so I could see the imprinted logo. Three books forming the word Veritas.

“It’s . . . it’s from Harvard!” I stammered.

Dad nodded, his grin widening.

“You applied to Harvard?” my mother asked with a whiff of outrage. She raised her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea what that costs?”

“Sort of, yeah,” I answered absentmindedly while reaching for the envelope. I ripped it open and scanned the lines.

“Well, do tell, what are they saying?” Dad asked.

“They want to get to know me,” I said in a subdued tone. But as I continued reading, I said, in a much louder voice, “They’re inviting me to an admission interview.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” he cheered.

My mother snorted dismissively.

“Ruby!” Dad cast her a strict look.

“Yes, of course, that’s great,” she conceded. “But you know we can’t afford to support you any longer. Let alone pay tuition fees for Harvard.”

“Yes, you’ve made that very clear,” I replied.

“When is the interview?” Dad wanted to know.

“You’re not encouraging her to go there, are you?” My mother asked.

“She’s been invited by Harvard,” he said in a calm voice. “I don’t know anyone who’s had a Harvard interview. Do you?”

“But it’s unaffordable. Get it out of your head right away.”

“I applied for a full scholarship there. They know I can’t pay their tuition and fees.” I said.

“And they still asked you? You’re going!” It seemed my father was on my side.

My mother snorted again. I did my best to ignore her and reread the letter.

“It’s this week.” I was shocked. “In Seattle. Dr. Joanne Brugler, a Harvard alumna, will do the interview.”