Chapter 14 #3
“Blow,” he says with a mixture of kindness and firmness. I do as he says.
“And—” I fight off another hiccup. “The guy I was telling everyone about yesterday, at the rehearsal dinner? Finn? I don’t even know how old he is!”
I plop down onto an upside-down crate and place my head in my hands, having thoroughly exhausted myself. Dad crouches next to me, placing a reassuring hand on my back. He doesn’t say anything right away, but he doesn’t have to. His presence is soothing enough.
After a moment of silence punctuated by the sound of my lingering sniffles, he speaks.
“Did I ever tell you about my first date with your mother? I was so nervous, Phoebe, I didn’t think I’d ever stop puking. I ended up being thirty minutes late because of how long it took me to get myself together,” he says, smiling.
My head jerks up. “You’ve never told me that.”
“I guess I never thought much of it.” He shrugs. “I thought it was pretty normal. Anxiety is normal, Pheebs, and us Bermans come from a long line of nervous pukers.”
I laugh. How has he never told me this?
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Phoebe. And if there is, then there’s something wrong with me, too.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re the best.”
“I agree.” He smiles again. “And so are you.”
I don’t know why I feel compelled to say this next part, but it comes out before I have the chance to stop it.
Maybe I want to prove Dad wrong. That there is something wrong with me.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve been more honest with him in these past few minutes than I have been with myself in a long time, and it feels good.
“I’m about to be a thirty-year-old virgin, Dad.”
Silence.
And then he grins.
“Why are you smiling?” I ask, and my tone isn’t entirely pleasant. “I’m miserable.”
“I’m sorry,” he says with a laugh, pressing his hand against his chest. “But that’s not necessarily bad news for me. It cancels out the years your sister spent sneaking Ethan through her window.”
And to think, all this time he could have been using the front door.
“Your time will come, Phoebe. I know it will.” And the way he says it, with such certainty, I have no choice but to believe him. “In the meantime, take a few deep breaths, wipe your nose, and blow us all away with your speech.”
He makes his way to the closet door.
“I’m right behind you,” I tell him.
“Love you, kiddo,” he says as he shuts the door behind him.
I take a few deep breaths, clean the mascara from under my eyes, and walk across the hall to the bathroom to assess the state of my skin.
The hives, miraculously, are gone.
—
“You’re next,” Mom whispers in my ear. I’ve spent the last twenty minutes of speeches sipping on the glass of water that was waiting for me at my seat. Though the room’s no longer spinning, and Dad calmed me down enough to eradicate my hives, I’m still finding it impossible to concentrate.
Every time I look at the speech in my lap, desperately willing myself to focus on the words in front of me, my mind floods with intrusive visions of Matthew:
Removing my hands from his face. Shaking his head. Eyes going wide, blinking rapidly.
Rejection. Rejection. Rejection.
The room bursts into a round of applause, forcing me to snap out of it. Ethan flies out of his seat, running to his parents, engulfing them in a group hug.
“Think you can top that?” Jamie asks.
I wouldn’t know. I didn’t hear a word.
“It might be tough,” I answer honestly, scooting my chair back and letting my legs lead me to the mic stand in front of the stage. A high-pitched screech echoes from the speakers as I adjust the mic to my height.
“Awesome,” I mutter to myself. It picks up on the mic. My sweaty palm grasps the stand as I pull it closer. “I’m Phoebe. Jamie’s sister. And Ethan’s sister, too.” I flash a smile in their direction. Jamie’s head rests on Ethan’s shoulder as she looks up at him. He plants a kiss on her nose.
Phoebe, no.
Matthew’s voice blares through my head so loudly that it might as well be coming from the speakers. If what he said was true, that at one point he had imagined kissing me, any hope of that continuing is long gone. I’ve really gone and done it this time.
I clear my throat, forgoing the rest of the intro I had planned and diving straight into my speech.
The paper shakes in my hands as I begin.
“It was a rainy May afternoon when Jamie mentioned Ethan to me for the first time.” I’m distracted by the sound of my own rapidly beating heart.
Public speaking has always been one of my strong suits.
I love the rush that accompanies standing in front of the classroom to teach a lesson.
I get high off the adrenaline that buzzes through me while leading faculty meetings.
So why, now, is my throat starting to constrict?
“Uh.” The edges of my vision begin to blur, making it nearly impossible to make out my next line. “I had just picked her up from…eighth-grade track practice….”
A slight ringing begins in my left ear.
“Actually, it was ninth-grade practice. I had just picked her up from ninth-grade track practice.”
I squint, trying to make out the words in front of me.
“Wait. It was eighth grade. I was right the first time.”
A few nervous chuckles from the crowd.
I clear my throat, trying to mitigate the growing lump.
“Woo-hoo!” I follow the shout to the back of the room, where I see a champagne glass raised high in the air. Matthew smiles at me, giving me a thumbs-up with his free hand.
Maybe he doesn’t hate me?
I look over to my family, where everyone seems to be squirming uncomfortably.
Except Jamie. She’s completely at ease, radiating the essence of calm she always has.
She gives me an encouraging nod. I return it, folding the paper in my hands and placing it on the floor.
Thanks to the millions of times I practiced it, I’m pretty sure I could do this speech backward if I really wanted to, anyway.
I look at Jamie, only Jamie, and deliver the rest of the speech without a hitch.