My parents didn’t end up going anywhere with Zoe because Zoe decided she didn’t need to see any more schools in Virginia and that, after she took the new round of SATs, which would surely put her at near to perfect, she was not going to want to stay in Virginia anyway.
“That is so snotty,” I said. To everyone. I was momentarily panicked. It was 8:30 a.m. and I had a plan to carry out. I needed to get myself to Annapolis. I needed to pack whatever a person takes to this kind of thing. All of a sudden I realized this plan, like the last one Connor had hatched, was fraught with the possibility of mishap.
My father was the one who spoke. “There are amazing schools here, Zoe. And publicly funded, which is nothing to sneeze at. College is very expensive!”
Zoe crossed her arms. “I have not worked my ass off for four years to end up staying here. I mean, if I have to go, if I get in nowhere, if you guys won’t send me anywhere else, then I have no choice anyway, and so why even look?”
“William and Mary and UVA are not here. They are fantastic schools, and I was looking forward to the trip,” my mother said, all dejected.
I looked hard at Zoe, eyes wide, and even though she didn’t know my plan, she could have seen my cry for help and acted on it. If she saw me, she made no effort.
“Tim and I have plans.”
“Oh yeah?” my mother said. “Plans to do what?”
“Well, to study, for one.”
“Yes,” my mom said. “And . . .”
“And he’s making me dinner, okay? He’s been reading up on all this cooking stuff and he’s making paella! He even bought fresh octopus!”
I tried to stifle my laughter. And then: paella. From Spain. That was supposed to be mine.
My father exhaled. “My God, Zoe. It’s one day! Fine.” He held his hands up in an I’m unarmed, don’t shoot gesture. “I give up.”
My mother shook her head and went into the den. “You think you might have told us ahead of time, Zoe?” she screamed out. “I made time to do this.”
“He just got the octopus yesterday,” Zoe said softly. She looked at my dad. “I really don’t want to go to a local school.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Zoe. Enough’s enough. Your mother is right. Have some consideration for others.”
“I am,” she said. “I’m not making you go.”
My dad shook his head. The disappointed head shake.
My mom came out of the den. “Let me ask you something,” she said. “Where is Tim going to school?”
“He’s waiting to hear early decision,” she said. Which meant he’d been studying with her for hours upon hours and he didn’t even need to take the SATs again! “Columbia.”
“And where are you applying? Your first choice,” my mom asked.
“Yes. There. As I’ve mentioned, it’s important for me to be in a city.”
“Zoe,” my mother started. “You know what? Forget it. I just really hope you remember: life is long. We’ll just have to see how this all pans out, won’t we?”
Wasn’t life, in fact, short? This was another Nanaism. Live now, life is short, right? It can’t be both.
“Well I’m going to Stella’s.” I realized just then that this didn’t have to affect me negatively, per se. “For the night.”
Everyone turned to me.
“That’s wonderful!” my parents said at the same time.
“Wait a minute.” He ran his hands through his hair. My poor dad. He was trying so hard to keep up. “Who’s Stella?”
When Stella pulled up in her white Ford Fiesta at 9:30 a.m. I had everything ready to go. Well, what was everything exactly? What would I ever take for an overnight with my . . . boyfriend? It was extra bags and non-itch creams, some bonus clasps because, dear God, I was not going to let that bag come undone again, but if it did, I was going to be ready. And it was also, pajamas. And face cream. Where were we even going to be . . . sleeping? Would we be sleeping? I had no idea what was about to happen. It was like everything before. Wait for the answer. Wait and see.
“Bye, honey!” My parents stood at the front door waving, like I was bravely going off to war. In a way, it had been a war. There had certainly been carnage.
I ducked my head like I was blinded by the sun. Or their love. “Bye.” I waved and hopped into Stella’s car.
Bob, bob, went the dog head. Hula, hula, went the girl’s straw skirt. “You are the most honorable soldier, superhero, pretty as a cat,” another unfamiliar voice in Stella’s phone in its dock sang.
“Okay.” I put my palms on both knees. “Here we go. Who’s this?”
“Kate Nash!”
“Okay,” I said.
“Kate Nash!” she said again.
“I heard you!” When would the music shaming cease? It was getting tiring.
She gripped the wheel and pitched herself over it, like an old lady looking for an address in the dark.
“Are you stressed out?”
“I don’t know. I feel all this pressure,” I said. We were headed toward the highway.
“What are you guys even going to do?”
I giggled. “I have no idea.”
“Are you, like, prepared?” She was on the ramp now.
“Stop it. You sound like my mother. Or like my mother would sound if she knew what was happening right now.”
“I’m just saying. When I first did it with Jared, it was bad. It got better. But the first time was not a lot of fun.”
“I don’t even know if that is happening!” I said. “Like, I honestly don’t think it will. Remember the thing that keeps me from people? That thing that came undone. That could happen. Can you imagine?”
“Jesus. That’s an extra layer of fear. But also? That thing brought us closer,” she said. “It made us friends.”
I leaned back. She was not wrong.
“Here we go,” Stella said, merging onto the highway.
And there we were, on our way.
I can’t say I was 100 percent excited. I guess I was . . . trepidatious. Is that a word? I know it’s a feeling, and also there was the fearful feeling, and I felt them both when Stella B turned into the marina in Annapolis. It was a marina, by the way. I’d seen a lot of water when I’d mapped it, but for some reason it still surprised me. And yet here we were, boats moored and rocking in the near distance, a bunch of piers, pools, a white napkin place to eat. The place was posh.
“Will you look at this place?”
“I know. Crazy,” I said, opening the car door. I felt like it was this massive effort to get out. Like I had to pitch myself onto the pavement.
“I’ll wait here,” she said. “Just here, in this car. Waiting.”
“Don’t,” I said. “It’s fine. You’ve wasted so much time on me already.” I was out of the car with my bag and leaning in her open window. “I’m okay!”
“I’m going to wait.”
“Okay,” I said, a little relieved. I have never felt like I fit in somewhere less. Truly.
When I turned around, I saw him. Connor.
He took my breath away. There he was. On a sailboat. Standing between two sails. At the end of the pier. Waving to me.
Stella craned her neck to look through my window. “Holy hell, is that him?” she said.
I waved back at him.
“For real?” she said. “Is your life real? You are such a fun friend to have! The dramz.”
I turned to Stella. “I know.”
“You are so finished,” she said.
“I know,” I said again. I gathered up my strength. To go to Connor on his boat.
“That boy will slay you! With his bow and arrow he will slay.”
Campers, put down your bows and arrows. That’s what I thought: how before that moment arrived, my life was headed somewhere so different. “Thank you, Stella,” I said. “Really. For everything.”
For a moment I wondered if I was leaving forever. I turned from her car and walked slowly, heart pounding, but somehow without falling over, toward the pier.
There he was. Strawberry-blond shock of hair swept to the side. Cinnamon spray of freckles. Bluest eyes, squinting, hairline fractures at the corners already. Dark jeans. Gray Vans. Frayed blue oxford. Down vest. Hello, Connor Bryant. Smiling—no, beaming—at me.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi, Connor,” I said. I didn’t recognize my shy voice.
“It’s a pretty perfect day for a sail.” He reached out his hand to me.
“What is it with you and boats?” I said. I turned to wave good-bye to Stella, a signal that she could go.
Then I took Connor’s hand and carefully stepped in.