Chapter 37 Now
Now
My eyes narrowed in on the wheel marks across the cover of my calculus book.
I ran my finger along them. I’d been working on the packet assigned to me by Mrs. Dulaney.
It wasn’t the only packet I was working on this week.
I had one for every class. Because along with my parents grounding me, my punishment for destroying the school’s lock bag wasn’t a monetary fine like we assumed it would be.
It was a week of suspension, where I’d been stuck doing homework and watching online lectures in my bedroom.
It seemed extreme, but considering my other offenses this year, they probably wanted to enact a stricter punishment than the last one.
Or maybe they looked at me, at my family, differently ever since my dad’s story came out.
I hadn’t seen anyone outside of my parents in a week.
I literally hadn’t left my house since last Saturday.
I was dying to get my phone back. I had no idea how Beau was feeling outside of the confines of the bathroom and after talking to Ava and Caroline.
He probably thought I ghosted him. That wasn’t going to help anything between us.
After declaring to my mom that I wanted to try to fix my friendship with him, this wasn’t exactly a good start.
My calculus book was sitting on top of my history book, and once again I noted how one had the library barcode and the other one didn’t.
Had Mrs. Dulaney bought this book for me with her own money?
Or the librarian, Ms. Garcia? I’d have to ask her.
Pay her back if she had. I tried to remember that day she put it on my desk.
Had she hinted at buying it? I had not been very grateful.
I sucked in some air and sat up straight in my chair as a thought occurred to me. I pulled the book toward me and flipped open the cover. Then I leafed through the pages, looking for…I wasn’t sure…a clue? A note?
I found it at the beginning of the unit we’d been studying when I got this book. He probably thought I wouldn’t miss it. That I’d open the book to this unit to study that day or that week. That was several weeks ago. I hadn’t opened the book until this week, this unit. I hadn’t seen the note.
I pulled it out now. It was on an index card and just said four words: Can we talk? Please?
The words were in Beau’s handwriting.
“What do you want?” Harper asked.
This was a bad idea. I knew it when I’d thought of it and when I drove over. I knew even more when I walked the pathway to her house. But all that knowing didn’t stop me from knocking.
“You have some books that Beau loaned you. Can I get those back?”
One of her hands was still on the door, like a visual representation that she wasn’t going to open it all the way for me. “Beau sent you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Why should I trust you with them? You want to burn them or something?” Her expression was hard.
“No, I don’t. I’m going to return them to him.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “You’re hoping for a way in the door? He hates you, Indy. This won’t work. Nothing will.”
“No, we’re talking again…” That wasn’t exactly true.
After finding that note, I’d rushed down to my mom and begged to be done with grounding.
Begged for my phone back. It had been a week after all, I told her.
She was going to give it to me in two hours anyway.
She must’ve sensed my extreme desperation or was rewarding my very good behavior, because she’d handed it over.
There were several messages from Beau waiting. Most a variation of: Are we going to talk? or You’re just going to ghost me?
He was right, we did need to talk. But not over text. And I didn’t want to show up at his door empty-handed. I needed a peace offering. That’s when I’d remembered the books.
“Tell him to come get them himself,” Harper said, shutting the door.
I put my hand out before it could fully close and it bounced back open. “Harper, please. I know I ruined everything with you two, but—”
“There’s a but?” she interrupted. “Please, tell me how you’re going to finish that sentence. But I should feel sorry for you? But you didn’t mean to? But he was always in love with you so I should thank you for opening my eyes?”
Her last statement stopped me short, shocked me silent for a moment. “He wasn’t,” I said.
“Oh, so you were blind too? Sure.” She rolled her whole head to show me she was being sarcastic.
“We were friends,” I said.
“If that’s the case, why did you hate me so much?”
“I didn’t. I liked you.”
She gave me a disbelieving eye squint.
I sighed. I needed to be truthful. “Okay, fine, I liked you as a person, but I didn’t like you for him.”
“Because you know what’s best for him?”
“No…I don’t know. Maybe I thought I did. It doesn’t matter, I lost him. I lost all of them.” And this was my first step in trying to fix that.
“But you want him back? And you’re going to, what? Get these books and show up on his porch like a hero?” She laughed in my face after perfectly detailing my plan.
“I don’t have to. You can do it,” I said. “Take his books back. Be the hero. I don’t care.” I did care, a lot, but I hoped my show of nonchalance would help. “I just want him to have them back. They’re his favorite.” And those statements were true.
“I know,” she said. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.
“Is that why you kept them?” I asked. “You wanted him to show up here for them?”
“I don’t know what I want, Indy. An apology, maybe.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Not from you,” she snapped, her tone making it apparent she thought I was stupid. “From him. For being with me while he loved you.”
“I don’t think he loved me,” I said.
She gave me disbelieving eyes. “Maybe not anymore, but he did. And it sucked.”
“If he did, he didn’t know it. Neither of us did. We didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay,” I said. “I understand.” I wanted to scream and rush past her, to her room at the back of the house, and take the books. Because I wanted to talk to Beau today, not tomorrow or a week from now. But I managed to control myself. Barely.
I turned and walked away. How many more times could I feel this crushing weight of defeat?
I was nearly to my car when I heard her voice calling out from behind me. “Wait!”
I stopped in the middle of the street and turned. She was walking my way carrying the stack of books. There were six of them, so it wasn’t an easy task. I propelled myself toward her before she could change her mind. We met on the sidewalk and she pushed the books into my arms.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I didn’t do it for you,” she said. “Maybe this is the closure I need.”
I nodded.
“Tell him I said screw you.”
I sucked in my lips so I wouldn’t laugh. I didn’t want to laugh at her because I understood the rage she was feeling. I had been there myself not too long ago. But the way she’d said it had sounded so sweet.
I may not have laughed, but she did. And when she was done laughing she said, “Will you say that to him for me?”
“I promise.”
She smiled. “I think we could’ve been friends if Beau wasn’t around.”
“I think so too,” I said. “I wasn’t lying when I said I always liked you.”
“Same.”
I lifted the books a couple of inches. “Thanks.”
“Those are terrible books, by the way. I only made it through half of one.”
This time I did laugh. “Should I tell him that too?”
“No, that’s just my opinion.”
“Noted.”
I couldn’t get out of the car. I was doubting myself now.
Doubting that he wanted to talk to me. He had said as much in the bathroom, that he wanted me back, that he missed me.
He’d pleaded with me as I left. But maybe I’d broken his last straw when I didn’t respond to his texts, didn’t come over until now.
After all, he hadn’t shown up on my porch.
Maybe he’d changed his mind. That thought was keeping my butt firmly in the seat of my car.
That, plus his mom was scary. Not as scary as King Grandpa, but still, I knew she didn’t like my family right now.
Thought we were a bad influence on Beau.
Or a bad look for the family. I was sure my most recent suspension hadn’t helped, if he’d told her.
And my dad’s deal and testimony wasn’t going to do much to repair his image or mine.
“You’re a chicken, Indy,” I mumbled under my breath.
I picked up one of the books on the passenger seat and flipped back the cover to the title page. The signature of the author in bold green Sharpie was scribbled near the bottom.
At the very least, he’d be happy to see his books. Maybe some of that energy would extend to me. This thought pushed me out of the car. I should’ve brought a bag or something, because awkwardly holding an armload of books wasn’t exactly the image I wanted to portray when he opened the door.
It was too late, I was here, and if I turned back now I might never get the courage again. I rang the doorbell with my elbow, then threw my shoulders back, standing up straight.
The door opened on well-oiled hinges, not a single crack or squeak to be heard. I was disappointed to see his mom standing in the doorway. She was just as disappointed to see me. There may have been a smile plastered on her face, but her eyes told the truth.
“Indy,” she said. “It’s been a long time.” Her pointed gaze traveled over the books I held, then down to my shoes, a ratty pair of Vans, and back up to my hair. I couldn’t see the black streak I’d tucked behind my ear but I knew she could.
“Hi, Mrs. Eubanks. Good to see you. Is Beau here?”
“You know, I’m not sure. I saw him earlier today, but I haven’t seen him this evening.”
His car was in the driveway, but he could’ve been in someone else’s car, with someone else.
I stood silently, wondering if she was going to go check. I should’ve texted him, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Or maybe I didn’t want him to have the opportunity to tell me no.
“He told me about the bathroom mishap,” she said, not moving from the door.
“Yes, bad luck,” I said.
“Bad luck seems to be your family’s companion this year.”
I swallowed. She had actually said that out loud.
She was normally more subtle with her judgments.
“Yeah, I guess.” I wasn’t sure how much bad luck had to do with anything other than the bathroom.
And maybe the bathroom wasn’t bad luck at all.
Maybe it was the luckiest thing that had happened to me in a while.
“Are those Beau’s books?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m here to return them.”
“You’ve had them for all these months?”
“No, not me,” I said, but I couldn’t exactly explain how Harper had them and I went and collected them from her. That made me sound…desperate? Wasn’t that what I was?
“I can make sure he gets them,” she said, taking a step forward, her hands extended.
I immediately stepped back. “No,” I said. “I mean, I’d like to give them to him myself.”
She donned a sympathetic expression. “I’m sorry, Indy, he doesn’t want to see you.”
That was probably true. My eyes shot up even though I couldn’t see his bedroom window while standing here beneath the porch’s overhang.
I wondered if he knew I was here. If he was standing behind the door right now.
Had he told his mom to nicely turn me away?
The books were starting to get heavy in my arms.
Six months ago, I would’ve handed her the books, turned, and slunk away. But there were a few things the past few months had taught me. One of those was that I had a voice, and even though many times it had gotten me into trouble, I could use it.
“Beau!” I called loudly. “Are you here?”
Her eyes went wide.
“Beau! I have your books! Can we talk?”
A few moments later, he appeared on the stairs.
I could see him over his mom’s right shoulder.
It was like she had eyes in the back of her head, because she held an open palm behind her without even turning around, directing him to stop.
And he did. She must’ve known he would because she didn’t check, just gave me a smug, closed-mouth smile.
“Right,” I said. “I guess that’s my answer.” I placed the books on the floor at her feet and backed up a few steps. “I was grounded,” I said to Beau. “Didn’t have my phone, couldn’t leave the house. That’s why I didn’t respond.”
He didn’t move.
“Goodbye, Indy,” Mrs. Eubanks said.
And that was it. I knew how much Beau respected his mom. Feared his mom. He wouldn’t go against her. Wouldn’t want to make her angry.
“Bye,” I said.