“What are you guys doing out? Fort Cyprus is so quiet tonight,” Nat said, looking around the empty Kmart. I knew then that she was an Army brat because she called the entire town here Fort Cyprus. The few people around posts who weren’t Army related called their town by its actual name.
“Running errands. We went to the PX.” The memory made my throat dry. “And now pizza for dinner, then nothing, just watching a scary movie. You?”
“I love scary movies!” Her voice rose a little. She was so animated when she talked, it reminded me of Jo. She came closer to me, and Tawny came out to take Nat’s order. She ordered for her family, and her dad stepped up to pay for it. “We went to the craft store and to get a tire-pump thing for some floaty thing.”
“For your sister or brother or something?” I asked.
“No, my mom. It’s for the yard for spring. It’s kind of weird how much she decorates.” Nat laughed. If only she saw my mom’s house on Halloween or my grandma’s house on Christmas. “I’m an only child.”
I almost choked. “An only child?”
She started laughing. “Your eyes are like . . .” She popped her eyes out, laughing harder.
“I have three sisters,” I told the pretty alien girl in front of me. An only child? What would that even be like?
“Three?” It was her turn to gape. “Wow. That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, it is.” I grinned.
“My mom’s birthday is tomorrow, so we were blowing all these yard decorations up for her and getting her pizza.” Nat licked her lips and looked back to check on her dad. She looked so much younger without makeup and glitter and henna etched all over her creamy skin. I couldn’t tell if she was my age or older.
“Cool. My aunt’s birthday is tomorrow at our house,” I said, for what reason I couldn’t tell you.
Nat kept her smile. “Fun,” she said, like she meant it. “I was trying to give my parents some alone time, but then my dad volunteered to come with me.” She slapped her hand gently against her forehead. She made me laugh—it was refreshing. “That sounds so weird that I wanted to give my parents alone time.”
My mom looked over at us, and I looked to Nat again, trying not to laugh. “A little. But I get it.” My parents never had alone time.
“You could come to my house?” I said, but the moment I offered, I wondered if it was too much. Would my mom even be okay with that? Would my mom wait to bring up the money stuff to my dad until we were all in bed? I stammered a little. “I’ll have to ask. I mean, if you even want to? I don’t know—”
“Yeah. Sure. If your mom doesn’t care. I mean it’s only, like, seven. I could go home at, like, nine thirty? It’s not like I have school tomorrow.”
She turned to her dad and asked him.
My mom said yes, looking at Nat, her dad, then me. “How do you know her?” she whispered to me.
“She made the jewelry I brought home. The dark ring I bought for you.” My mom hadn’t worn it yet, but promised that she would when she went somewhere special.
“Really? Wow. She’s only seventeen. Her dad said she wants to go to LSU next fall. But, yeah, she can come over, and you guys can stay in the living room and watch a movie.”
“Mom . . .”
“The same rules apply to you that were on your sisters, not until you’re sixteen.” Nat couldn’t hear her, thank goodness, but I wanted the conversation to end.
“Okay. Okay,” I agreed, and Nat’s dad nodded.
“I have this conversation with all my daughters. Meg and Jo, and now you.” My mom was still whispering.
We’d never had to have this conversation because I’d never had any friends over, boy or girl.
“Okay,” I said again.
My mom nodded and turned to Nat. “What kind of pizza did you get? We . . .”
It felt like everything around me was changing so fast since my dad got home, since Jo met Laurie, since Shia King came back, since Amy started her period, since me making my first friend in a really, really long time. I hoped that time would slow down in the coming summer—or was this what being a teenager was like? Everything came flying at you fast, and you just had to try to grab ahold of the good parts when you could?
44
jo
“I can’t believe this,” I said for the tenth time in the last five minutes.
Laurie was sitting on his bed, his fingers typing and clicking away on my laptop. I was so pissed at Amy. How could she be such a coldhearted little bitch?
“I’m telling Meg. I have to.” I sat down at the end of the bed and pulled my phone out of my pocket. What a long-ass day. I was so fucking over today.
“That’s not my business. You know what’s best for your family. Look.” He sat up toward me, angling the screen so I could see it. “Your essay was backed up, so it’s here. I emailed it to my email just in case something goes wrong. You should really always send yourself your documents.”
“That’s it? You’re done?” I raised a brow at him. He nodded. “Thank you, seriously. What a mess this is, Laurie. What a fucking mess of a family I have. Amy, man. I can’t believe she would send those emails to Meg—Meg is her favorite one of us. Imagine what she has planned for me!”
I didn’t want to imagine that, actually.
“Everyone’s family has their own shit. You know that. Look at mine.”
I agreed with a sigh. “Yeah, but at least yours is distant. It helps a little, doesn’t it?”
He reached for the thin strap of my tank top and gently pulled me toward him. My fight with Amy seemed too distant in my memory to be only an hour ago; it was like this fight had started years and years ago and was only now coming to a head. Who knows what would have happened if Laurie hadn’t have been there and I didn’t have his house right next door to cool down at. When I leave the state, I won’t have a sanctuary.
“It only helps a little. If any.”
“I wish I could just go far away from here. But I wonder if I’d feel guilty leaving my family behind.”
Laurie had his arm around my shoulder, but he pulled it down and cupped his long fingers over mine. He had become my closest friend. Closest family, closest everything, in the last few weeks. I’d started saying things to Laurie that I normally wouldn’t say out loud—that’s how I knew.
“A lot of people move away for college, you know? I’ve met Americans from all over the States walking the streets of Napoli, Paris, Berlin. You name it. People move away, it happens. It’s a part of growing up, no?”
I nodded and leaned my head on his shoulder. He smelled like soap and rust. “Yeah. But Meg is working two jobs, and if she marries John Brooke, she’ll move away, leaving Amy with me and Beth. One less driver, one less car. If I leave, one less driver. You get it?”
He moved the laptop off his lap and turned his body to me. He tugged at the unmade comforter rising up between us. “Yeah. I do, but that’s not your responsibility. I know it sounds harsh, but you’re responsible for yourself, and helping when you can, but that’s it. If you stayed around here, you would be miserable. Your family would want you to get out if you want to. No?”
“I guess so. My dad was the first one who said I’d have to move because of my major.” I shook my hea
d. “You don’t get it because your family isn’t as close as mine. I literally share a room with my sister and live with both of my parents.”
Laurie’s face dropped.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “Sometimes I worry that if I leave, everything will fall apart. It’s not even like I’m doing a lot to stop it.”
“Talk to Meg about it. See what she says.”
I nodded, agreeing with him. He reached up to cup my face. “We’re all just tiny blips on your map, Jo. You don’t belong here and you know it. I’m just hoping I’m good enough to drag along for the ride.”
My heart sank. “You are,” I whispered to him. “We’re going to make this work long distance, right? That’s if we make it through this year.”
He rolled his eyes. “Really, Jo?”
I laughed. “Just saying. Let’s get through this year.”
“I have to go to my mom before that.”
“I know. We will figure it out. It’s going to be good practice for when I’m in college if we are still together.”
Laurie didn’t laugh that time or crack a smile. He looked at me. “Is that really what you think? It was funny at first, but you just say it over and over. What’s the point in even trying this if you’re not really going to try?”
I pulled back from him. “I’m trying. I’m joking. I’ll back off . . . I just need to know for sure this is what I want and what you want.”
“I thought we agreed that it was.”
Laurie looked so exhausted.
We all did.
“We did.” I rubbed at my neck. “I’m just being realistic and honest.”
“Great.”
We sat in silence for a few moments before Laurie finally broke it. “Jo, I need to know what this is. I’m not asking for a freaking lifelong commitment, but can we at least agree that we’re dating, or not? I’m going to be going back home to Italy, and some people will be asking if I’m single . . .”