Chapter 1 #2
I nodded, too, and looked down at the table.
I’d expected that I’d be able to stay in Harbor Cove until I went to UC Berkeley in the fall.
But three weeks ago, my dads had sat me down at the kitchen island.
Oscar had turned his laptop around so I could see it—the next house they’d found to renovate.
In retrospect, I really should have known this would happen.
The Harbor Cove house was looking great—nearly done, the work moving fast, everything coming together.
But I was still surprised as I stared at the pictures in front of me.
“It’s in Oregon,” Angelo said, sitting down on the stool next to me.
“Oregon?” I echoed, feeling my stomach drop. I had been hoping, vaguely, that maybe work on our current house would take us all the way through the summer. Or that their next project would be somewhere around here.
“Obviously, since this house hasn’t sold yet, we’ll be back a bit. But we really need to get started as soon as possible.”
“We had hoped that maybe you could have the whole summer in Harbor Cove,” Oscar said, exchanging an unhappy look with Angelo. “But we couldn’t wait on this one.”
“But you’ll be able to see your friends when we come back to deal with the sale,” Angelo added, sounding like someone trying very hard to find the bright side.
I nodded, turning all this over in my mind.
I looked around the kitchen—it was absolutely perfect.
The paint was fresh, the brass drawer pulls bright and shiny and scratch-free.
And as I took it in, I realized that this was the best it would ever be.
It could really only go downhill from here—it would get messy and stained and lived in.
It would never look as good as it did right now.
And all at once, my situation suddenly seemed very clear.
Was there any sense in sticking around when there would only be diminishing returns?
Wasn’t the very best thing to do to leave when things were at their peak?
“It’s okay,” I said. “And I might not really be able to come back much. I’m sure I’ll be busy with stuff in Oregon and getting ready for school. So, it’s fine. I promise.”
“Are you sure?” Oscar asked, his expression skeptical.
“Yes,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to dwell on this. I needed to keep looking forward—looking back would only make it that much harder. “I’m leaving for college in the fall anyway, and besides, I’ve only been here six months. It’s not like I’m leaving a place I’ve been forever.”
They both took a breath at the same time, like they were preparing to argue with me, when Oscar’s phone rang with a permit update from the contractor, and they snapped back into work mode, and we all moved on.
So, we’d be flying to Oregon in the morning, to begin the whole process all over again—turning something that was just potential into something shiny and special and perfect.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said now as I folded my napkin and laid it across the table. I gave them both a big smile. “I promise I’m fine.”
“You never told us how Bryony took it when you told her we were moving,” Oscar said, giving me a sympathetic grimace. “Was she okay?”
“Did you tell her you could come back and visit?” Angelo asked. “And that she can come and visit us?”
I looked down and concentrated for a moment on smoothing out any wrinkles in my napkin.
“Sure. I mean, she was sad, but she totally understood.” I glanced up, relieved to see that the waitress was here and handing out dessert menus.
I took mine and focused on it, like I was really having trouble deciding between the German chocolate cake and the mixed berry plate.
Which, I mean, there wasn’t even a question.
Chocolate cake all the way. But the truth was…
I hadn’t actually told Bryony I was leaving.
I’d thought about it, of course. And it had been hard to keep it to myself, especially when she talked about summer plans—plans that she assumed I would be around for. But in the end, I’d decided a clean break was the best way to handle it.
I’d left too many friends behind over the years, and I’d had too many years of awkward texts and strained phone calls, in which you tried to connect with someone you’d once been such good friends with, and now could barely find anything to say to.
I found it would retroactively wreck your memories of the friendship—like soon you would have trouble recalling why you’d even gotten along so well with them in the first place.
And so, somewhere around ninth grade, I’d decided I was just going to go.
This meant not telling people I was leaving but always making sure to slip away after a fun, great time.
Leave at a peak, when everything was wonderful.
This way, the memories were of the best of a friendship.
It didn’t slowly become a faint echo, a copy of a copy.
And sure, sometimes it got hard. Like leaving Washington.
I knew the way things had ended there had not been ideal.
And I could tell that I was really going to miss Harbor Cove and the friendship I’d built with Bryony.
But this system had worked great for me for years—I wasn’t going to change things at the last minute just because the end was always hard.
And so I’d decided that I would just concentrate tonight on making sure it was a fantastic night for us—so that I could depart on a real high note.
Oscar ordered an espresso, despite Angelo reminding him that it always kept him up all night.
Feeling like staying up all night was just what I wanted, I got a latte.
Angelo, telling both of us that we were playing with fire, got a mint tea, and we all ordered the chocolate cake.
It was delicious, and I’d nearly finished mine when I asked, “Did you know German chocolate cake doesn’t actually have anything to do with the country?
It was invented by a man named Samuel German.
The proper name is actually German’s chocolate cake. ”
Oscar smiled at Angelo. “I knew we wouldn’t be able to make it through dinner without a fact.”
“What?” I said, laughing. “You know you love them.” I’d been collecting facts since I was little and discovered that I had a real memory for retaining them.
It had never come in handy until the year we were in Arizona, and my quiz bowl team went all the way to Nationals.
But I liked always having something at my fingertips, something to say on a big variety of subjects and places.
This calmed me down, somehow. And the first thing I usually did when we moved somewhere was to find out a couple of obscure facts about it.
It made me feel a little less like a tourist, someone who was just passing through.
“I just feel bad for this German guy,” Angelo said, reaching over to my plate to steal a bite. “They dropped the apostrophe and suddenly he’s not getting any credit.”
“That’s how the cake crumbles?” I tried.
Oscar shook his head. “Quit while you’re ahead, kid.”
I took a breath to reply just as my phone lit up with a series of texts.
brYONY:
Hey I’m early! Outside whenever you’re done.
Say hi to A&O!
DISNEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!
“I should get going,” I said, taking the last bite of chocolate cake and setting my fork down.
Bryony was driving us to Harbor Cove High, where we’d get the buses that would take us to Disneyland.
And the fact she was here meant that the night was about to begin.
I pushed back from the table and hugged Oscar, then Angelo.
“Bryony’s outside. She says hi. Thank you for dinner. ”
“Thank you for being the best daughter ever,” Oscar said, starting to get misty again.
“Now he’s going to be overwrought and overcaffeinated,” Angelo said with a sigh. “It’s not a good combination.” Then he smiled at me. “But have a great time tonight, kid. You’re back late, right?”
I nodded. “Grad Nite ends at two a.m.—so I’ll probably be home around three or three thirty.”
Angelo shook his head. “We’ll definitely be asleep.” He looked over at Oscar and sighed. “Well, I will be, at any rate.”
“Have fun,” Oscar said, wiping his eyes with his napkin. “See you in the morning!”
“Bye,” I said, giving them both a wave. Then I shouldered my bag and hurried out the doors of the restaurant—where my best friend was waiting for me.