Piper
Tati spends the better part of the morning locked in her bedroom, and I loiter restlessly in the kitchen, worrying about Davis and Henry. I hear the echo of my sister’s earlier question: Why are you always so selfish?
I text Gabi: Am I selfish?
Her response is immediate. No. Don’t let Tati mess with your head. She sends a series of kissy-face emojis, followed by, Gotta run. Piano lesson. Talk later.
I pocket my phone, thinking about how good it is of her to jump straight to reassuring me. But is she full of best friend shit?
I take a mental step back and try to analyze myself objectively.
I’m curious. Devoted. Naive, maybe. Spontaneous.
I’m defensive, which I want to be better about.
Tati has said I’m a dreamer, an idealist, a romantic, which is flattering.
I’ve got a complex when it comes to being left behind, that’s for sure.
I wonder how Henry would describe me.
I’m not sure it matters anymore. After last night, I have no idea where we stand.
That text from Whitney has been bouncing around in my head all morning, and I’ve yet to make sense of it.
Now that my initial fury has lessened, rationality has elbowed its way in.
It’s possible I misconstrued Whitney’s words. It’s possible she misconstrued Henry’s.
Or maybe Henry is phenomenally shady. Maybe he’s spent the summer stringing me along—using me. Whitney and me.
I just can’t make that theory stick.
I know him.
He and I…what we have is special.
Still, maybe it’d be best if he went back to Spokane in a couple weeks.
His mom is there. Whitney and their tangled history are there.
Maybe they should get back together. Maybe they owe each other the time and effort.
Maybe they’re meant to be, soul mates. I want to accept that as a possibility.
I want to be gracious. I want to put Henry’s well-being ahead of my own.
But the thought of him not here makes me feel like I’m descending into darkness.
I drag myself outside for a walk.
I’m spiraling. I don’t have the bandwidth to argue with Tati, and my bedroom reminds me too much of Henry now to serve as a sanctuary. I miss the Marine Conservation Park; I wish I could take refuge there for a few hours.
Instead, I shuffle down the sidewalk, dazed and disassociated, like I’m hovering overhead, watching a raven-haired girl wander without purpose.
She looks sad and tired.
She looks like she needs a hug.
She looks so very lost.