Maggie
“Yikes,” Ember says. They’re sitting shotgun with their hand out the window, feeling the breeze on this humid afternoon. “That’s
sweet, though.”
“It wasn’t, it was disturbing,” Shana says. “He’s, like, standing there holding a shower caddy and silently convulsing. I’m
like, ‘Dad, what is happening?’ He’s like, ‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’ I’m like, ‘Are you? You’re silently convulsing.’ And he’s
like, ‘I just can’t believe my little girl is going to college,’ and I’m like, ‘Can we talk about this literally any other
time but now?’”
I laugh from the back seat. The three of us have been doing drives like this all summer—roaming around with no specific destination,
cracking each other up, singing along to MUNA at the top of our lungs—and I love it. Nothing’s been better at getting my mind
off you-know-who.
But soon this, too, will be done. Ember leaves for Berklee College of Music at the end of this week, then Shana’s off to the
University of Michigan two days after that, and then the next day, I go to Delaware.
“I’m kind of scared,” Ember says. “To go.”
“Kind of?” Shana says. “I’m terrified.”
“Same,” I say. I always feel like a child when I’m sitting back here, like Shana and Ember are my parents and I’m trying to get their approval. But I am terrified to go to college. Also excited. And sad. Like Shana’s dad. “We’re still gonna talk and stuff, though, right?”
“Hell yeah, we will,” Shana says. “Lots of talk and lots of stuff.”
“Teela thinks I’m gonna kiss someone else as soon as I get there,” Ember says.
“Will you?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” Ember says. “I mean, that’s not my plan. I want to stay together with her.”
“Tell Teela she must be thinking of me,” Shana says. “I’m gonna kiss everybody.”
“That sounds unhygienic,” I say.
Shana shrugs. “Possibly.”
I look out the window and see that we’re turning into the parking lot of the Old Valley Shopping Center.
“Why are we here?” I ask, trying not to panic. “You need more earbuds from Tech Haven?”
“Nope,” Shana says. “I thought maybe we could get some . . . ice cream.” She looks back at me with a devilish grin.
“Oh god, what? No.” Scoops ’n’ Sprinkles is in this shopping center. And apparently Carter works there again.
“I’m sorry, Maggie, my dear,” Shana says as stores blur by and we get closer to the place I must avoid. “But you have been
a wreck about this all summer. Don’t you think you could use some proper closure? See him one last time before you go?”
“Shane, he hates me,” I say. “So, no, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Shana says. “There’s no way.”
“Agreed,” Ember says.
“We don’t even know if he’s there right now,” I say.
“Actually, we do.” Shana stops the car, with Scoops ’n’ Sprinkles just up ahead. “Lizzy told me he and Bodhi have a shift together.”
“Oh.” My heart is flipping out. “Then maybe . . . Okay, fine. Inch us forward a bit.”
“On it.” Shana drives again, slowly rolling to a stop once we have a view into the store.
And there he is, behind the counter.
And here I am, eleven years old, seeing him for the first time.
Carter Cohen.
His dark hair has gotten longer. Messier. It only makes him more attractive.
The store is empty right now, just him and Bodhi.
I want to dash out of the car. I want to kiss him.
And I’m about to.
But then I take in how happy he is.
He and Bodhi are laughing about something.
Was he ever that delighted when he was with me?
Bodhi tries to send a crumpled-up ice cream cup into the trash with a jump shot. He misses, and Carter laughs harder than
ever.
If I go in there, I ruin this moment.
Why would I once again force him to confront the fact that he doesn’t like a Spear sister as much as she likes him?
That’s what got him into this mess in the first place.
A pack of rowdy middle school doofuses stomps past the car and into Scoops ’n’ Sprinkles.
Just as well.
“Shane,” I say, staring at an empty bottle of Peach Tea Snapple on the floor. “It’s not happening.”
“Why? Because of those kids? Who cares—”
“Let’s go,” I say. “Please. Drive.”
She does, as I silently convulse.