The Other Side of Tomorrow

“Not a problem.” She smiles, clearly relieved.

I sit down beside Spencer and take a bite of my sandwich before digging my pills out of my purse.

In the beginning, it was hard to remember to take them when I ate. Now, it’s automatic and half the time I don’t remember if I’ve taken them or not.

After we’ve finished eating, we play a few more games before the sun starts to set, and then head back to Cool Beans and our cars.

Meredith says goodbye and leaves first.

“I had fun today,” Spencer says with a smile, doing that thing where he rubs the back of his head when he gets nervous.

“I did too, it was nice. And, uh, thanks for this.” I hold up the stuffed bunny he won and gave to me—he won a turtle also and gave that to Meredith. Harlow won a live goldfish to go with her gorilla and has already named him Fred.

“Don’t mention it. Maybe I’ll see you this weekend?” he asks, looking between Harlow and me. “We could go to the skate park if you guys want to learn.”

“Yeah, sure, maybe. We’ll see.”

He chuckles. “Um, right. Then … bye.” He glances between the two of us and then ducks into his car.

Harlow and I pile into mine and I start it up.

“He likes you,” she tells me with a giddy giggle.

“No, he doesn’t.” I back out and drive toward the exit, getting behind Spencer in his old 90s Mustang.

“Yes, he does,” she counters.

“Well, I don’t like him like that. Just as a friend,” I say, shoulders resolute.

“Are you sure?” she sing-songs.

“Yes, I am,” I defend, a bite to my tone.

She shakes her head. “You’re weird. He’s super cute, and he’s nice. He’s going to college too, clearly he’s got his shit together. What’s not to like?”

“I won’t lie,” I begin. “It made me … feel good when he came up to me the other day at the beach. It was nice to have someone notice me for me and not because they remembered me as the girl who needs a kidney. But … he doesn’t make my stomach explode with butterflies or my heart do back flips. I feel … fond of him.”

“Fond,” she repeats. “The one word with the potential to kill any budding relationship. Fine,” she relinquishes, “you don’t like him like that, okay—but tell him that you only want a friend and don’t give him false hope. If he’s a genuinely good guy, he’ll still be your friend after, and if not? Well, you dodged a bullet there.”

I laugh. “Thanks for the advice.

“I gotta look out for my big sis,” she defends, looking down at Fred in the plastic bowl he came in.

I shake my head. Harlow is way too smart for her age.

We’re quiet the rest of the drive. We arrive home and, when we get inside, we find Mom and Dad watching Scandal on TV.

Dad pauses it and looks at us from the back of the couch. “How was your day?” he asks.

Perry lifts his head from his paws on the floor.

“Good. I got a bunny.” I hold up my stuffed bunny. It’s rather cute—the pale purple plushy with floppy ears.

“And I got a gorilla and a fish,” Harlow beams, juggling both.

He and Mom laugh.

“Sounds like you had a good day then,” Mom says with a smile.