Mom and Grandpa were waiting up for me when I got home. Mom was a mess. Her eyes were puffy, her makeup washed away. I didn’t want to hear another round of apologies. It didn’t seem to matter what I wanted tonight, because apologies were what I got.
She collapsed on me, her hands around my shoulders, her face in my neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want to talk about this tonight.” I pushed her off. I never pushed her away, and now anger and guilt pressed against my chest so hard that I couldn’t breathe.
Mom let out a sob.
“You need help,” I spit out.
She nodded. “I know.”
“I need to go to bed.” I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. I really just needed to get out of this room before I said more things that I could never take back. I whirled around and stormed down the hall.
Grandpa, who hadn’t said a word, followed after me.
“What?” I snapped.
“Do you need to talk about it?” His voice was calm, like that would make this all okay.
“I need to be left alone.”
“You’re mad.”
“Yes, I’m mad!”
“You should be. I would be.”
“Good. Because I am.”
“I’m sorry she couldn’t make it.”
“I’m mad at you, Grandpa! You!”
“I couldn’t leave her.”
“Really? Really? That’s the excuse you’re going with? You. The one who’s always trying to push her to do more. This time it was too much?”
“I’d never seen her quite this bad, Abby.”
“Then maybe you could’ve asked Elliot to stay with her. Maybe you could’ve left her for just thirty minutes and come and shown me some support! This was an important night, and it’s like you didn’t even care about me.”
“I care about you. You know that.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t show it! Now please get out of my room.” I knew half of this tirade was for Cooper, but at least half of it was for my grandpa too, so I didn’t call him back when he lowered his head and left.
Somehow yelling at him didn’t make me feel any better. My head was pounding, and my eyes felt like they were on fire.
I should’ve waited until I had calmed down to send an email to my dad. But he deserved some of this anger too. The email was short, but true to how I felt.
Dad, never ever lie or bully someone into including your daughter in anything again. Let her earn her own achievements.
I hit Send and closed my laptop. Then I went to my bathroom, downed two aspirin, and crawled into bed.
My phone woke me the next morning with lots of buzzing. I sat up. I’d slept in my clothes and makeup. My eyelashes felt clumpy. I looked at my phone. There were exactly thirty-two texts from Cooper. Guess he’d fixed his phone somehow. Most of them were just the words I’m sorry over and over and over again. I had a text from Lacey as well: You didn’t send me a report. That must mean it went exceptionally well.
I groaned and got out of bed. I took a long and very hot shower. My skin was red and splotchy when I climbed out. In the twenty minutes I’d been in the bathroom Cooper had sent five more texts. I ignored those as well.
There was no reply to the email I’d written my dad. It wasn’t like he had time to just sit around checking his email. I knew it might take a few days. I hoped I didn’t regret sending it by then.
I steeled myself and went out to the kitchen. Grandpa sat at the table. I looked around but didn’t see my mom anywhere.
“She’s still sleeping. She had an emotional night.”
“Didn’t we all,” I mumbled.
“Can we talk about it?”
“Not yet, Grandpa, please not yet.” I felt dizzy and leaned against the counter.
“Can you at least tell me if Cooper is okay? I was worried last night when he didn’t show up.”
“I never want to talk about Cooper again.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“No. Really. I’m done with Cooper. Forever.” I knew this was my emotions speaking. If it had been Rachel or Justin, I would’ve been mad at them for a few days and moved on. But it wasn’t Rachel or Justin. It was Cooper. The guy I loved. And that love was now making forgiveness feel impossible.
“That’s . . . um . . . forever?” Grandpa asked.
My headache was back and my head throbbed. Grandpa narrowed his eyes at me, then reached forward and felt my head.
“You’re burning up.”
“Cooper,” I growled.
“I don’t think heartbreak causes fevers,” Grandpa said.
“No. He was sick.” On top of everything he gave me his bug. Grandpa dug some medicine out of the cupboard, and I took it and went back to bed.
Cooper called and texted all day long. I had to turn off my phone at one point.
Mom hovered in my doorway later that day. “How are you feeling?” She stared at me with a pained expression that I knew had nothing to do with my illness and everything to do with her guilt.
“Not great.”
“Can you give me a play-by-play of the night?” she asked.
“No. I can’t. I feel like I’ve enabled you for a long time,” I said. This was something I’d been thinking about since the night before too. “And I’m not up for talking right now.”
“Grandpa told me about Cooper.”
“Of course he did.”
She pretended not to hear me. “You have a big heart, Abby. I know you’ll get through this.”
I felt like I had no heart at the moment. Like a certain someone had ripped it out and eaten it. Okay, maybe he hadn’t eaten it, but he fed it to some rabid dogs or something. Last night, I had been prepared to hand him my heart. I was going to put myself out there again. And this time, he didn’t even show up at all, not even as a friend. He was supposed to be my best friend, but a best friend wouldn’t have dropped the ball on such an important night for me. I wasn’t sure what hurt more—realizing I really lost the guy I loved or realizing I lost my best friend. Probably the second.
Mom left me alone, and I stared at the walls of my room. My phone lay on the nightstand next to me, full of unanswered texts from Cooper. I needed a distraction. I texted Lacey: Worst night ever.
My phone rang and I thought I was going to have to avoid another Cooper call, but it was Lacey. I picked it up. “When do you get back?” was how I answered.
“In two days.”
“I hope I last until then.”
“Tell me everything.”
And I did.
The next day and fifty-four more unanswered texts from Cooper, I was sitting on the floor in my room wielding a pair of unruly knitting needles I had bought, when Grandpa knocked on my open door.
“Come in.”
The door opened wider with a squeak. “Hey, you feeling better?”
“Physically? Yes.” I could tell my fever was gone and the headache I’d had for the last couple of days was gone with it. But anger still glowed in my chest like an evil that needed to be exorcised.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m working on the last four items on my list.” I held up the yarn and needles. Lance had made this look so easy, but it wasn’t. “Well, three, technically, since the reciprocated-love thing isn’t happening anytime soon.”
“The heart list? I thought that was only for the art show.”
“No. It was to improve my painting, and that hasn’t happened yet.”
“Of course it did. You got into the show.”
“Dad wrote Mr. Wallace. It’s why he let me display my paintings.”
He cringed. “Sorry, kid.”
If I never heard the word sorry again it would be too soon.
Grandpa moved to where my list hung on my wall. “Is there something on the list about lopsided knitting?”
My phone buzzed from the ground next to me. I looked at the screen.
Abby, please. Talk to me.
I growled and flipped it over.
“Did you need anything else?” I asked Grandpa curtly.
“Nope.” And with that, he left my room.
Yes, I definitely needed a good exorcism.