Chapter 30
THIRTY
Patrick
As soon as I get home from school I close my bedroom door and riffle through the love letters and gifts that tumbled from my locker.
Some envelopes carry a sweet plum scent.
Others are sealed with glittery heart stickers.
Each letter is addressed to me, my name written in tidy handwriting that gives nothing away.
I’m wondering who could have written them when Sara Lin pops into my mind.
I replay the way she threw her arms around me, burying her head in my chest as she apologized.
We’re not huggers. I mean, we’ve never been physically affectionate with each other.
That’s what caught me off guard. Because hugging was new.
And she did it, probably, because she was so upset.
That’s all it meant.
It doesn’t mean all these love letters are from her.
That ship sailed a while ago, didn’t it?
I’m clasping a purple box, and open it to find various chocolate truffles inside. After popping one in my mouth, I realize it’s mint chocolate. My favorite.
“Patrick! Dinner’s ready.”
I scramble to close the box just as Mom swings open my door, eyeing the letters scattered across my bed.
“Are those—? Love letters? From girls?”
The truffle box tips from my hands. Chocolate scatters across my quilted bedspread.
“Mom! Can’t you knock?”
“I can’t believe this,” she says, brushing aside chocolate and sitting next to me on the bed. She picks up a letter and starts reading: “‘I can’t stop staring at those ocean eyes. Love, your secret admirer.’ Oh! Someone’s in love with my beautiful son!”
I don’t think there’s anything worse than your own mother reading romantic letters addressed to you out loud.
“They’re right. You do have such beautiful ocean eyes!”
“Mooom,” I moan. “Stop.”
“Sandy, what’s going on in here?” Dad says as he barges into the room, eyeing us. “Leave our son alone. Don’t you see he’s busy with—?”
“Look, Bob!” Mom waves a letter in the air. “Our son has a secret admirer.”
This is such an invasion of privacy. Why didn’t I lock my door?
Dad sits on my other side and slides an arm around my shoulders. “Really, son? Wow. I’m so proud.”
Ugh, this is the last thing I wanted.
“What’s going on in here?”
Now Pearl’s skipping into my room, and I want to melt into the floor and disappear from this realm.
“Your big brother’s got a secret admirer,” Mom says, fanning a handful of letters in front of her face so my little sister can see.
“Ooooo,” Pearl coos, plucking one from her hand. “Are these from Sara Lin?”
“Oh! Patrick, are they from Sara?” Mom adds, acting way too nosy.
Before I can reply, my dad thumps a sturdy hand across my chest. “Son, when a man finally decides to love a woman—”
But he’s cut off by Pearl screeching, “It’s mint chocolate!” She’s collected a few truffles in her hands and is already popping another into her mouth. “Patrick’s favorite!”
“I always thought you two were made for each other,” Mom tells me.
Pearl tosses a chocolate at my head. “How long have you been dating?”
“What are you all talking about?” I burst, face reddening. “Of course they’re not from Sara Lin!”
Mom blinks. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Please just leave me alone. I can’t deal with you all barging in on my life like this.” I scoop letters into my backpack then sling it over my shoulders. “I’m outta here.”
And that’s how I end up at Kiki’s Chicken Kitchen. Vicky’s a reasonable person of sound mind, unlike my family, and she’ll know what to do.
We find an empty table in the back corner. She makes sure her manager can’t see us before she turns to me, arms folded over her apron.
“You’ve got five minutes.”
I dump the contents of my bag on the table.
Vicky watches a candied heart roll off the surface and onto the floor. “Uh, thanks?”
“No—what? These aren’t for you,” I amend, reaching down to grab the rogue candy. “I found them in my locker, and I need your help figuring out who they’re from.”
“What are you coming to me for? I don’t even go to your school. How am I supposed to know who has a crush on you?”
“Because, well, I don’t know, exactly.” I stumble over my words. “But you’re smart. Help me figure this out.”
She just stares at me, long and hard, and then says, “You think they’re from Sara, don’t you?”
Heat rushes into my cheeks. “What? Um, I hadn’t considered that.”
A lie. A big, giant, stinkin’ lie. Vicky’s eyes narrow like she doesn’t believe me.
“Do you think they might be from Sara?” I ask in what I hope is a casual tone.
“No, but good luck finding out. I gotta get back to work.”
She’s on her feet, long hair swishing over her shoulders as she heads to the kitchen. But I can’t let her leave. Not yet.
I step in front of her, blocking her path.
“Wait! Why’d you say no like that? They could totally be from Sara, right? She likes writing poems and stuff, and she knows my favorite candy and my locker combination. And aren’t you forgetting she used to have a crush on me?”
Vicky remains unenthused. “Listen, I don’t know who they’re from, but they’re definitely not from Sara. All she talks about is her new crush, Joe.”
My eyes widen, but I should have expected this. Before our fight, Joe was all Sara wanted to talk about.
“I even tried asking her about you and she just changed the subject,” Vicky continues. “If you really want Sara to send you love letters or something, I suggest you start working for it. Do something about it. Because, to me, it sounds like she’s quickly moving on.”
There’s this uncomfortable twitch in my gut. Moving on? It sounds so dramatic. But haven’t I seen it with my own eyes? Sara eating lunch with Joe. Walking to school with Joe. Texting Joe. Argh, she’s even in Newspaper Club with him!
It’s one thing to suspect it myself, but it’s another thing to hear this from Vicky, who arguably knows Sara best.
Three bowls arrive in the kitchen window, and the cook motions for Vicky to run them to the appropriate table. She heads that way, but not before telling me, “Let me know whenever you figure it out.”
So that’s it. Sara’s moving on. Unless I do something about it, I’m going to lose her to Joe.
And I can’t lose.