Chapter 11
Cara Samuel:
Thanks again for last weekend
Jeremiah James:
No problem, princess. It was fun. I’d say we should do it again soon, but Europe awaits
Cara Samuel:
When do you leave?
Jeremiah James:
Already airborne
Thank God for Wi-Fi or I’d be trapped listening to Xander talk about his girlfriend for ten hours straight
They’re deep in the honeymoon phase
Cara Samuel:
Okay but that’s actually kind of cute!
Where’s your first show?
Jeremiah James:
The motherland!
Cara Samuel:
Ireland?
Jeremiah James:
Italy
Ireland/UK is a separate leg
Cara Samuel:
OMG I’m so jealous
I’ve always wanted to visit Venice
Jeremiah James:
Hold up
You know my ancestry??
Cara Samuel:
You spend like fifteen minutes talking about it in the band’s documentary
Jeremiah James:
I did?
Cara Samuel:
Yeah
Your mom’s family is from Lombardy
And your great grandparents on your dad’s side came to Boston from Galway
Jeremiah James:
I don’t like this
Cara Samuel:
Crap, I’m sorry
That sounded creepy. It must be weird when strangers know your whole life
Jeremiah James:
That’s not it
I don’t like that you know all this stuff about me when I don’t know the same things about you
BTW you’re not a stranger
Cara Samuel:
If it helps, I think my family is mainly British?
Vague, I know
Jeremiah James:
What are you doing right now?
Cara Samuel:
Nothing. Why?
Jeremiah James:
Because you’ve got a lot to catch me up on
Thu, Apr 22, 12:42 p.m.
Jeremiah James:
Important question
Would you rather only be able to eat pancakes or eggs for breakfast?
Cara Samuel:
Is that a real question?
Jeremiah James:
As real as it gets
Cara Samuel:
Pancakes, obviously. Eggs are just meh
Jeremiah James:
First of all, pancakes is the correct answer, but eggs catching strays?
What about breakfast burritos, eggs Benedict, huevos rancheros? I’d even settle for a nice, cheesy frittata
Cara Samuel:
What is it with you people and frittatas?
Jeremiah James:
Who is “you people?”
And what did frittatas ever do to you?
Cara Samuel:
Never mind
Jeremiah James:
Okay new question
Dinner
Burgers or pizza?
Choose wisely
Cara Samuel:
Is there anything you think about more than food? Also isn’t it my turn?
Jeremiah James:
Nope
You answer first
Our fake relationship hangs in the balance
Cara Samuel:
The correct answer is still pancakes
Pancakes all day every day
Jeremiah James:
Hey that’s it!
Cara Samuel:
What’s it?
Jeremiah James:
Your tattoo
Picture this: a towering stack of pancakes with the phrase ALL DAY EVERY DAY written in syrup
Cara Samuel:
Okay that actually has potential, but you have to get a matching stack
Jeremiah James:
Done. I have the perfect spot for it too
Cara Samuel:
I’m afraid to ask where
Jeremiah James:
Right on my ass
Fri, Apr 30, 1:09 p.m.
Jeremiah James:
So… I have a gift for you
Cara Samuel:
Ooooh! What is it?
Jeremiah James:
A poem. I wrote it myself
Cara Samuel:
Ha! This should be interesting
Jeremiah James:
Roses are red,
April’s so gray,
But don’t you worry,
Cara Samuel:
I swear to God if this is going where I think it is…
Jeremiah James:
IT’S GONNA BE MAY!
Cara Samuel:
You’re the last person who should be making terrible boy band jokes
Jeremiah James:
*Poem
Fri, May 7, 9:12 a.m.
Jeremiah James:
Important hypothetical
Cara Samuel:
I’m listening
Jeremiah James:
If someone could 100% prove that they exist, would you rather have ghosts or aliens be real?
Cara Samuel:
Ghosts. No contest
Jeremiah James:
Absolutely unhinged take
Cara Samuel:
Excuse you?
What would you pick?
Jeremiah James:
Aliens, obviously
You could have met Stitch or Marvin the Martian
And you went Casper??
Cara Samuel:
1. Human Casper was GORGEOUS
2. Aliens freak me out
Jeremiah James:
Dead people don’t?
Haven’t you seen The Conjuring or Paranormal Activity?
That shit is the definition of scary
Cara Samuel:
Have you seen literally any alien invasion movie?
Jeremiah James:
Yes
They rule
Usually a ton of NYC get vaporized which is kind of iconic
Cara Samuel:
That is NOT helping your case
Statistically speaking I’m way more likely to die if aliens are real
Jeremiah James:
Coward logic
Cara Samuel:
No, survival logic. I can simply not live in a haunted house. I can’t opt out of space invaders
Jeremiah James:
Aliens > ghosts
* * *
“I think that’s enough for today,” Mom said after we spent the better part of an hour cruising around Rochester. She pointed at the approaching cross street. “Why don’t you take a right at the corner, and we can head home.”
“Sounds good.” I turned on my blinker and checked my mirror and blind spot before merging into the next lane, careful as always.
At first, Mom flat-out refused to supervise my driving time.
Said her experience with Drew and Stella had taken years off her life.
Only once Dad confirmed I was a better driver than either of my siblings did she agree to take me out for practice. Maybe the difference was our age.
“You did really well today, honey.” She reached over and gave my knee a quick squeeze. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I smiled to myself, excited to be on the verge of crossing another item off my bucket list. “I think I’m almost ready for my test.”
“Speaking of tests, one of Dr. Mitchell’s nurse practitioners called and claimed you haven’t scheduled your next screening.” Mom let out a little huff as if this was preposterous. “I told her she must have made a mistake seeing as how you’d never be so irresponsible.”
“Uh, about that…” I swallowed nervously and bit my lip.
I should have known sticking my head in the sand and attempting to avoid the inevitable would only work for so long, but making it through each day was so much easier when I wasn’t obsessively worrying about potential test results and what they would mean for my future.
“Did you forget?”
Not wanting to lie, I gave a noncommittal shrug.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom’s head whip to the side. “Cara! You know how important these screenings are!”
Her voice was so shrill, I couldn’t help but wince. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been a little…preoccupied lately.”
“Does this have anything to do with that boy who visited last month?” Mom briefly met JJ during his stay but didn’t have a real opportunity to get to know him since she had to work all weekend. Based on her tone, JJ hadn’t made a great impression.
“Why do you have to say it like that?” I asked, insulted on his behalf.
“Like what?”
“With such a negative connotation, like he’s some kind of creep or something.”
She feigned innocence. “I did not.”
Yes, you did, I thought, but arguing with her about it was pointless. There was a reason why Stella was so stubborn; she inherited that trait directly from our mother.
“You know he’s best friends with Oliver, right?
” I said, trying to win JJ some points. My parents loved Oliver.
They were leery of him at first, but after he organized a concert to raise money for cancer research, it was as if he could do no wrong.
“Plus, Stella and Drew have been friends with JJ for just as long as Oliver.”
Mom sucked her cheeks in, then blew out a noisy breath. “Yes, honey, I know.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He’s just so…scary looking.”
I barked out a laugh at the absurdity of her statement.
Not because JJ didn’t have an intimidating appearance.
He certainly did. But my mother was one of the most accepting people I knew, so her confession didn’t compute.
When she remained silent, I risked a quick glance in her direction, and the frown she wore was filled with concern.
My mouth fell open. Was she serious?
“I can’t believe you’re judging him because of a few tattoos.”
Mom’s lips flattened as she considered her reply, and eventually she sighed and pushed her hair back. “It’s not just the tattoos. It’s the shaved head and the muscles and the dark clothes. He looks like trouble.”
“I think you’re being hypocritical,” I said quietly, because honestly, her aversion made zero sense, especially when JJ had been nothing but polite when I introduced him to her. Was there a different reason she didn’t like him, some other angle I couldn’t see? Maybe Drew had said something.
“How so?” she asked.
“Well, what about Trixy? She has dyed hair, piercings, and an entire wardrobe of leather jackets, something most people would argue screams trouble. And that’s not to mention the actual motorcycle she drives, but you have no issues with her.”
“That’s different, honey,” she said with patience, but it still felt patronizing. “Trixy’s a girl.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why does that matter?”
“Well,” Mom said, clearing her throat like she was about to launch into a lecture, “you’re at that age where you—”
“Oh my God, Mom, stop!” Had it been possible, I would have flung myself out the window to avoid the rest of this conversation.
“First of all, I’m not having the sex talk with you.
I’m almost twenty. Anything you could possibly tell me, I already know, so you’re a little late to that party.
Second, maybe don’t make assumptions. How do you know I’m not into girls?
Maybe I have a crush on my best friend.”
This made her chuckle. “Cara, your father and I will support you no matter who you love, but don’t treat me like an idiot. We both know that’s not true.”
My lips pursed. “How would you know?”
“Well, for starters, you wanted to marry Aladdin when you were five,” she said, still laughing slightly.
“Also, I’ve seen the wall in your room, and I remember the crush you had on that one nurse.
What was his name? Collin something?” She gave me a knowing look.
“Not once in your life have you shown an ounce of interest in women, real or fictional.”
“Okay, fine,” I snapped as I came to a stop at a red light. “I get it.”