Chapter Seventeen
Nora
I can barely fill my lungs as I run to the car. What just happened?
The scene plays over and over in my head.
I almost kissed him. I wanted to kiss him. What is wrong with me?
On the way home along the pitch black of the country road, I try to focus on not creating any road kill. Focus on getting Eli back because his knee hurts. All I can think about is what he said back there.
He’s quiet now. Why isn’t he talking? Why did he say we would kiss again? He wants to kiss me? Didn’t he say that?
The silence is freaking me out. I’m trying to think of something, anything normal, to say, but my mind is like a black hole. I want to talk about what just happened in the garage, and also, I never want to speak of it again.
“Center yourself in the lane. You’re drifting.”
Finally, there’s talking.
“Okay,” I say, though I felt like I was pretty much in the center. I nudge the car a little to the right.
“When are you taking the test?” he asks.
“Next Friday. I already made the appointment. Just need to tell my mom first.”
“And when are you gonna tell her about Emory?”
My jaw tightens and I grip the steering wheel harder. “I want to wait until I hear about scholarships, and then I’ll tell her.”
“Good, you should. I bet it’ll make her happy.”
I wish I had his confidence. “I don’t know. This fall was so bad, moving Gigi.” I concentrate on making a tight corner, which I navigate perfectly. “She already has too much to handle. I just want to know for sure, so she doesn’t have another thing to worry about.”
He’s silent for an endless minute. “Why did you apply?”
This conversation is quickly morphing into a confession. Maybe we would have been better off not talking. “Mr. Chaffee told me about their program, and I researched it. Then I got sort of excited. I was doubtful they’d want me. He thought I had a good chance, though. He wrote me a recommendation, and they accepted me.”
“Cool. The only thing he ever wrote me was a tardy slip.”
He’s trying to be funny, but I don’t laugh. “I did it on a whim, really. To see if I could get in.”
“You could have gotten in anywhere. Everywhere.”
I focus on the road. I don’t want to talk about Emory. “Maybe. I’m not sure if it’s right to leave Mom now, though, even if I do get a decent scholarship.”
He moves his leg, trying to get comfortable, maybe. “You’re always doing that. Looking out for her. She’s stronger than you think, though. I bet she’ll be fine.”
“Maybe,” I say, not sure that’s true.
“So…” He pauses. “Maybe we can fit a few more lessons in before the surgery?”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “More?”
I know. I know. I should not agree to spend more time with him, even for driving lessons. That’s a no-brainer. I should wait for Tex’s call and go out with him. I could practically feel the sparks coming off him in that laundry room.
Except that right now, all I can think about are the sparks between me and Eli in that garage, and how close I came to kissing him. I need to say no.
My mind goes blank. “Yeah, okay,” I say. Apparently, my brain is set to self-destruct. “Just a few more.”
“Whatever you want,” he says.
That’s the problem, right there in a nutshell. What I want is him.
By the time we get back to the Mermaid, we’re in silent mode again, lost in our own thoughts. At least I am.
“Ready to switch?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
I pull the crutches out of the backseat and help him out, realizing that I just drove the whole way home without even thinking about the driving part of it.
The Mermaid is still open, and pie sounds so good right now. I glance at Eli sideways. It’s not a good idea, not tonight. Sure, we’d eventually find things to talk about—lacrosse, Emory, scholarships, family, and friends. It’s the things that won’t be said that I can’t stop thinking about, things that are threatening to derail me, my hypothesis, possibly my whole life.
As he gets back in and I take his crutches, he looks back toward the restaurant, too, probably coming to the same conclusion. I close my door and without a word he pulls away, out of the parking lot, driving too fast.
I’m about to tell him to slow down when I see blue-and-red lights in my side mirror. Hear the whoop, whoop of a police car.
“Perfect.” He pulls over.
I’m not sure what he expected, driving like a maniac.
“Shit.” He puts the car in park and glances at the side mirror. “It’s my dad. Of course.”
Eli lowers the window and Mr. Costas leans inside. “Nora.” He speaks like Eli isn’t even there. “I’m sorry my son is driving your car, or any car, like he’s on the NASCAR circuit.”
“Hi, Mr. Costas.”
He finally acknowledges Eli. “You been drinking?”
Eli stays quiet, his eyes forward. “No.”
“Do I need to check?”
He clenches his teeth. “No. You don’t.”
“All right,” Mr. Costas says. “I’m going to give you a ticket.”
Eli’s mouth drops open. “What?”
His father holds out a hand. “License and registration.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eli snaps.
Mr. Costas is not kidding, not at all. It’s kind of obvious.
“What? You really think I’m going to give you a pass, just because you’re my kid? You can pay the fine, then go to defensive driving school. Won’t hurt you. Might prevent this from happening again.”
When his father goes back to the cruiser, I guess to write the ticket, Eli smacks the steering wheel. “Every cop in this town would have let me go with a warning. Not him.” He turns his body toward me. “See, that’s why you should tell your mom about Emory.”
“Why?”
He scowls. “Because I have nothing like that to tell him. Not only am I not smart enough to get into real college, now I can’t even play the game that he’s spent all this money on since I was four. Now it’s like he expects me to screw up. I can’t do anything to make him proud. Your mom might freak about you leaving, but you gotta tell her. Parents live for that shit.” He adjusts the rearview mirror. “So I hear, anyway.”
Mr. Costas brings back a ticket, passes it through the window, and Eli drives away, without a word.
A few minutes later, we pull up the driveway and into the garage. Our kitchen light is on. His house is all lit up, everyone is still awake. For all that happened at that party, we weren’t gone for very long. Eli turns off the engine. We’re in a dark garage again, which feels dangerous.
His head hangs low and his hands still grip the wheel. “Sorry about tonight.”
What’s he sorry about? That we almost kissed? Or that he stopped it? I guess I spend too long analyzing, because he opens his door.
“All right,” he says. “Good night.”
“Wait.” I lay my hand on his arm. His skin is warm, and it seems to transfer through to my body. I can’t look directly at him, but I feel him watching me, setting my whole body on fire. I am trying so hard to act cool. I’m afraid that he’ll know that something happened inside of me tonight, something shifted, even if it was temporary. “Don’t be sorry.”
I lift my eyes and meet his.
His forehead furrows, and I feel the sparks starting up again. I know he’s wondering what the hell that meant. So am I. I’ve believed in my hypothesis for so long, been so rigid about it, and then I almost kissed him tonight. For real, if he hadn’t stopped it, something would have happened. I can’t explain any of this to him so I throw open my door and get out.
I gather his crutches from the backseat and hand them over, staying near in case he needs me.
My face feels so hot; I’m glad it’s dark in here. When he’s out, I’m tempted to give him a hug, just a friendly hug, thanking him for the evening. I’m just not sure I can be that close to him right now. I’m not sure it’s safe. Instead I lift a hand and pat the side of his arm.
“Okay,” he whispers, one corner of his mouth turns up.
“Okay.”
“We’ll talk about the next lesson tomorrow?” His voice sounds hopeful, or maybe that’s wishful thinking.
Say NO, Nora. It’s not too late. This is happening because of you—what kind of intelligent woman tries to get over someone by spending more time with him?
I ignore the flurry of warnings in my head. “Okay, yes.” I say, because I am an idiot.
We walk out of the garage, together, safe now. Nothing is going to happen out in the open.
His mom steps out their back door, arms crossed. “A ticket? Really?”
“Great,” he mumbles as he hobbles toward his house. “Night, Nora.”
“Good night.” I head to my own backyard and see the kitchen light is on, which means Mom is home.
She’s going to want to hear everything, which is not going to happen. As I trudge to the door, I think that, if I could be honest with her, which I can’t, this is what I’d say:
Mom, I’d say, I have this hypothesis, about the first kiss and how it relates to true love, that I formulated because of Gigi and Harold’s awesome love story, and your and Dad’s less than stellar one.
And tonight, for the first time in a long time, I wonder if I might be wrong.
I step inside, ready for her to hit me with a barrage of questions.
“No, Jack.” She’s on the phone with my father. I hear her in the dining room, and it doesn’t sound good. It never is. “Are you serious?” she yells. Pause. “Well she’s not going to want to be a bridesmaid. She doesn’t even know the woman.”
I pull the back door closed behind me. I assume this means that my father is getting married again, which isn’t in itself a surprise. He got remarried after the divorce, and it lasted a whole two years.
“Well, that’s great, just great,” Mom says. “You need to ask her yourself. I don’t want anything to do with this.” Then there’s silence, and then I hear her crying.
She comes into the kitchen, phone still in her hand.
“Oh no,” she says when she sees me, her eyes all red and puffy. She sniffs. “Honey. Did you hear that?”
“Some,” I say. She comes to me, and surrounds me with her arms. I love my mom so much. I love Dad, too, but together they aren’t just inert, they’re toxic.
I let her hold me for a few seconds and then pull away.
She sniffs again. “Do you want some cocoa?”
“No, thanks.”
She fills the tea kettle anyway, and sets it on the hot plate to boil. “Did you have fun? You’re home early.” Her voice breaks again.
I can’t stand this. “It’s okay, Mom. Please don’t cry.”
Mom clears her throat and wipes her tears. “You had fun?”
“It was okay. Eli’s knee started to hurt, so we left.” Also, I experienced a little temporary insanity that this conversation is fixing, fast. “I’m tired, though.” I watch her as she readies a cup for tea, tears still falling down her face.
This is what being with the wrong person does. This is the result.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She smiles, but she’s not okay. “Yes, of course, it’s just your father. He seems bent on making my life miserable…”
I can’t do this tonight. I can’t listen to her dump on Dad. “Mom, I’m really tired,” I say. “You can tell me in the morning.” I give her a kiss on her tearstained cheek and head to my room.
Marie meets me at the bottom of the stairs. I pick her up and hold her close.
That’s what happens when you don’t stick to reason, when you don’t wait for the reaction. You cry your eyes out in a burned-out kitchen trying to make sense of your life.
That’s not going to be me. Not ever.
I’ll finish the lessons with Eli, and then that’s it. As soon as I have my license everything will be back to normal. For now I just need to forget about that almost kiss in the water, and now in the garage, and move on. He’s not getting a second chance. I can’t give that to him, because the results of that kiss were clear. In science, a thing is or it isn’t. And Eli Costas isn’t.
Up in my room, I fall into bed. My phone buzzes and Marie pounces on it. It’s Caleb, texting.
Game Thursday?
My brain is a jumble of messed up thoughts, I take a few deep breaths to clear it.
I’ll give Caleb this: he doesn’t waste time. I know what I have to do. With the sounds of my sniffling mom echoing through the house, I text him back.
I’d love to.