Chapter 10 #3
I put on my big-girl pants, collect my anxiety into a little basket and hold it at arm’s length, and lie, “I just really loved the romance. And the parallel universe.”
“Yes, I suppose those are its main appeals. I must confess, I found Aomame and Tengo difficult to root for. You didn’t find the writing repetitive?”
Okay, Jessica. Jesus Christ, just let me like what I like.
“Repetition has its place in writing. It worked for me.” I shrug coolly.
She nods once and says, “Very well. Welcome to creative writing, Josephina.”
“It’s Joey,” I correct as I sit down, flustered by the experience.
Helen leans in and whispers, “She did that to everyone. I don’t think she likes novels.
She hated on Pride and Prejudice, The Bell Jar, The Fountainhead—can’t blame her on that one—Lord of the Rings, even Frankenstein.
Who the hell doesn’t love Frankenstein? The only person whose response she didn’t pick apart was that girl in the front row who said she doesn’t read many novels but loves a collection of short stories by George Saunders. ”
I laugh as the tension leaves my body.
“Thanks for letting me know—I was starting to feel pretty dumb.”
And because I apparently am a glutton for punishment, right as I say those words, I allow my gaze to be pulled just a bit to the side to the natural spot for my attention to land…
Ellie’s eyes dart away from me to the front of the room, where Professor Travers is opening up a conversation about this week’s first story for workshop.
I snap my eyes forward.
I shouldn’t look at him. I shouldn’t even think about him.
But also…
He was looking at me first.
Part of me wonders if transferring into his class, though it looks weird, might be a second chance. Serendipity. A second chance at Ellie in my second chance at life. Maybe this is the universe telling me not to give up.
I consider my next move and waver back and forth throughout class, torn between avoiding what I’m certain will be a painfully awkward interaction and sucking it up and speaking to him like a mature adult. When class ends, I rush to follow Ellie out the door.
“Do you have a break before your next class?” Helen asks, dragging my attention to her. “I was thinking of grabbing a coffee if you want to join me.”
I can see how much effort it took for her to invite me to hang out, but I’m split in two as I see Ellie drifting farther and farther down the hall.
He’s getting away.
“Hey, I’m actually—” I begin to brush her off, then wonder what the hell I’m doing. This is my chance to be a better friend, but it’s also my chance to clear the air with Ellie. I decide to go for both. “I’d love to get coffee. I just need to talk to Ellie real quick. Do you mind waiting?”
Helen’s eyes widen.
“You’re going to talk to him?”
“Yeah, I just—I don’t feel good leaving things unsaid, especially if we’re going to be stuck in class together all semester.”
“You’re braver than I am,” she says, sounding impressed. “I’ll wait here.”
I hurry down the hall and call Ellie’s name.
He stops and turns around, shoulders hunched as he waits for me to catch up.
“Hey, Joey,” he says quietly. “What’s up?”
“I want you to know that I didn’t know you’d be in this class.”
“I didn’t think you did,” he says. Then: “It is kind of weird, though, isn’t it? Aren’t you a business major?”
“I’m thinking of switching,” I admit. “Guess I’m not as put together as I made it seem.”
“Oh. That’s okay,” he says. “I’m the last person who can judge that.”
I laugh, and he laughs, and we both smile at each other. And for just a moment, as we’re sharing in his self-deprecating joke, it feels like before. It feels like us.
He breaks eye contact and glances away. I scramble for what to say next, feeling lame for starting a conversation that’s already falling so flat.
Does he think it’s weird that I’m talking to him right now? Like I ambushed him?
Why didn’t you call?
Did I do something wrong? Is there anything I could have done right?
How’s that for an ambush?
“I hope it won’t be awkward between us,” I say instead.
“Of course it won’t be,” he responds. “We’re both adults. We can be mature about this.”
I agree, then tell him I need to go. I walk away, feeling hollow. Somehow, being ghosted was preferable to whatever the hell that was.
As I walk back to Helen, I tell myself this is fine. Just one awkward snag in the tapestry of my fourteen years with Ellie. We have an entire semester of workshop discussions ahead of us. A semester for us to connect. A semester for me to impress him.
I feel a pang of guilt, seeing Helen leaning against the wall, attention firmly focused on her phone.
She deserves better than to be left alone for a boy, I realize.
She deserves… well, actually, I have no clue.
Love and compassion and friendship, certainly, but I feel reasonably confident that she had those things the first time around.
We walk together, and I resolve to connect with Helen. I need to get to the core of who she is and what she needs. And save her from an untimely death.
But no pressure.