6 Library #2
“Not for the football. Obviously. But Lennie must have told you about it, Will?” Krista looked at me expectantly. Then looked at Lennie when I didn’t say anything.
I looked at Lennie too, but she just took another bite of her s’more and shrugged.
So Avery filled me in. “They kissed. Lennie and Sara kissed,” she said. “Like it was all stealth mode, under the bleachers, and me and Wyatt were lookouts.”
“Len?” I exclaimed, hurt. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known already.
Lennie stayed silent.
“Lennie …” The pain in my chest was tight and heavy. “Why didn’t you—?”
I cut myself off. Because I knew exactly why she hadn’t told me.
I wasn’t there. I was at the library making out with a guy I hated, while my best friend kissed her crush and I’d missed it.
“I’m sorry. I should have been there,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Yeah. You should have,” Lennie spat. The others looked shocked. “Like, Willa, have you seen yourself recently?” Lennie didn’t even try to hide her frustration.
“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Are you serious? Like you seriously don’t get it?” Lennie looked even more annoyed now. I’d never seen her like this. Not directed at me, anyway.
She went on. “This stupid course, I wish I’d never convinced you to do it.
You’re like a completely different person now, and I hate it.
The clothes, the makeup I can deal with, everyone likes to change up their style once in a while.
But the constant talking about London and Theo, and the always-being-in-the-library thing?
Even when we already had plans? It’s getting old, Willa.
And yeah, I could deal with that, too, if you had any interest in my life.
But you don’t! You just smile and nod when I talk, like some bobblehead in the rear window. ”
This wasn’t true. She was the one who’d encouraged me to do the London thing, to go to the library and sit in her spot. How could she hold it against me like this?
“Lennie, that’s not—”
“Cut the bullshit, Willa. It is true. Did you even care that I’m dating Sara now?”
Tears pricked my eyes and I blinked them back. “Of course I—”
“Of course you don’t. You don’t even listen, even though I’ve tried to tell you all about her. I was so excited to talk about my first real girlfriend, and all my best friend wants to talk about is herself.”
But no, this wasn’t fair. This London thing was the most exciting thing to happen to me. Ever.
And actually, she was the one who could cut the bullshit. She was being so unfair. She could have just sent me a message about Sara. She knew how busy I was every weekend.
“Sounds like I should have stayed in the library tonight too,” I said.
“Yeah, maybe you should have. Since that’s where you really want to be.” Lennie’s voice shook, and I forced myself not to look at her in case I broke down. Instead, I stared at the glow of the flames from the fire pit and let my eyes lose focus.
Lennie had already walked over toward Krista and Avery. They wouldn’t even notice if I left.
So I did.
I stalked home quickly, my thoughts racing and my eyes full of tears I would not let her see. What did she want me to do? Never talk about it at all?
When I burst through our door, Pop was standing on a chair, examining the wooden beams.
“What’s wrong, Will? What happened?” Pop got off the chair to study my face. He always knew when something was wrong.
“It’s Lennie, she’s being ridiculous.” I picked up a cushion from the couch and threw it onto Pop’s blue armchair.
“She said I’ve been ditching them and that I’m not the same anymore.
Which is insane, right? Like I’m trying to better myself, and actually do something with my life, and she’s making me feel guilty about it! ” I took a huge breath.
Pop sighed and brushed sawdust from his hands. “Do you think … she might have a point?” He spoke gently, but his words sent me to a whole new level of outrage.
“What? You’re on her side?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Willa, honey, you have been a bit preoccupied recently. I know you’re excited about your course, but life goes on at the same time too.
I mean, everyone has a lot going on, it’s harder now to keep up with these repairs when the money’s …
” He trailed off, like he immediately regretted what he’d said.
“You mean since I quit the coffee shop? So it’s all my fault we have no money?”
“That’s not what I’m saying …”
“Right.” A lump had lodged in my throat.
“That’s not what I meant to say, honey. All I meant was that this old place takes a lot of cash. Those beams, they’re rotting all the way through, and we’re going to have to do something or …” Pop waved the thought away, but I’d already heard it. That was my fault too.
I held up my hands, surrendering to yet another person who was against me. “I get it, Pop. Don’t worry. I really get it.”
And for the second time that night I stormed away, slamming the door behind me.
I didn’t know where I was going this time.
I couldn’t go to the coffee shop or to the pizza place, or to the diner, where there’d be someone I knew, because everyone knew everyone in this stupid town.
And I wasn’t in the mood to smile and say “Yes, ma’am” and pretend like my life was some rom-com, tied up with a bow.
Was this the thanks I got for being Little Miss Helpful all the time?
Checking on neighbors, walking dogs, smiling and chatting and always thinking about the next “good thing” I could do?
So I stomped off to the only place where I’d been happy lately, and where I knew nobody would be.
Jo looked up, but not with her usual smile. “Everything okay, Willa?” she asked, but something was off. What was wrong with everyone in this town?
“Fine, thanks,” I said as I walked past, looking forward to falling apart in my seat by the window.
But when I got there, my seat was taken. He was still here.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be at home, or at Harvest Festival or wherever half-British boys spent their time when they weren’t being horrible to me. I looked behind me, as if I was planning my escape. But I didn’t have anywhere to go.
“You’re here,” I said, barely getting the words out before my face crumpled.
“I’m here, Doc.” Then he was standing up and wrapping his arms around me.