Chapter 15
I shouldn’t be this nervous. Why am I nervous?
Jacob and I hang out all the time. We hang out at build nights, and even though we go to—well, went to—different schools, we meet up at the library to study.
Now we go to the same school, and we eat lunch and study together all the time.
Why am I so nervous? It’s totally normal to invite people to your dorm.
I was so worried he was going to go to school somewhere far away. He said he didn’t bother applying. His parents don’t care where he goes, so why should he? He’s so smart; that’s such a waste. As selfish as it is, though, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy he’s staying.
There wasn’t an application portal safe from my ambitions. I applied everywhere. MIT, Georgia Tech, Stanford, Caltech, Berkeley, the list goes on. I got my acceptance letter from MIT the day after I realized Mom wasn’t coming back.
Acceptance letter envelopes and divorce paper envelopes are the same size. You have to put them in a mailbox at an angle so they fit.
I threw the MIT paperwork in the trash before handing Dad his envelope.
Guess I’m glad I applied to the local university as a backup.
There’s no way I can move away now. Grammie died shortly after mom left and he’s been nearly catatonic since then.
At least he was up for hanging out with the baby tonight alone, so I can do something fun.
Every once in a while, he snaps out of it.
I get a day or two of the dad I remember.
Enough to stave off the bitterness that starts creeping in when I think about how unfair it all is.
Things were going so well, and then everything fell apart.
I managed to dislocate my rib and my wrist within weeks of each other.
Then I got sick. My stomach stopped working, and I was so exhausted.
My grades started slipping. I was on track to be valedictorian, but that quickly went away.
Dad lost two mechanics at the shop and started working overtime.
Mom was getting increasingly frustrated with taking care of me and the baby.
Next came the diagnosis. All the tests and new appointments ate up all the time to work on my robot, and I couldn’t even get it ready for the deadline to enter the Twin Cities championship.
And just when I started feeling better and Dad hired a new guy at work, Mom left.
Every dream I had was gone in an instant. Bye-bye MIT. Bye-bye no longer sharing a room with a toddler. Bye-bye future! My mom put those dreams in her no-longer-secret-boyfriend’s moving truck, stealing them away on a Sunday afternoon while we were all at the zoo.
It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten hurt and sick, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten so burned out. If I could have just held it together a bit longer ‘til I could deal with it on my own, maybe things would be different.
I clench my hands around my backpack straps.
Ouch. I let go and flex my fingers. These new braces take some getting used to.
They pinch when I grip things too hard. Ring splints, my occupational therapist called them.
They are so restrictive. I can’t believe this is the “normal” range of motion for most people.
I know I’ll get used to them but ugh. It’s been weeks, and I’m still not.
They look kind of cool, at least. Well, when I’m not wearing all of them.
When I wear them on all the joints like I should, they start looking like an exoskeleton.
It’s admittedly still kind of cool, but people have questions.
Jacob hasn’t seen them. He doesn’t know about all this hypermobile stuff.
I haven’t really told anyone. It’s nice to have answers, I guess, but the more I research, the more freaked out I get.
It’s embarrassing enough to get hurt all the fucking time but being broken at a cellular level?
I can’t catch a break. And forget wanting to date with something like this.
My mom couldn’t even handle it, and she was supposed to love me no matter what.
Who will bother dating a girl who has to put her wrists back in place every morning and almost faints if she stands up too fast?
Not that there are many people I want to date. Just one, really.
I spot Jacob’s building up ahead. I sigh and slip the ring splints off my first knuckles, my DIP joints.
I leave the rings on my second knuckles, my PIP joints, since they can pass as jewelry.
The DIP rings jingle like a chain of tiny bells as I pour them into my pocket.
I’m about to text that I’m here when Neil pops out of the front door.
“Mari, hey!” He’s a quiet guy, but I like him. He started coming to robotics tournaments last year. He became close with Jacob and the rest of our loose group of friends. Now they’re roommates. “I’m on my way to class.”
“Oh,” I say, unintelligently. I thought he’d be hanging out with us.
I suppose it isn’t really the first time I’ve hung out with Jacob alone, but it is the first time we’ll truly be alone.
Not in a library or a room full of people.
Just me and him. In his dorm room. Alone.
Oh god. Beads of sweat form on the back of my neck.
“I mean, hi!” I wave awkwardly at him. “Have fun at class,” I tell him as he holds the door open for me.
“Thank you,” he says, waving over his shoulder.
I climb a couple flights of steps to Jacob’s floor.
The door of Jacob’s and Neil’s shared room stands out from the others in the hall.
While others have whiteboards with dicks drawn on them, pictures of them in their various sports, and whatnot, Jacob and Neil’s door has a simple sign. No nonsense, like them.
Don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous. You’re just hanging out. Playing video games. This is totally normal. Totally, completely normal. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s not interested. We’re friends. Just friends. This is a normal thing Just Friends do.
Jacob opens the door a second after I knock, like he was waiting for me.
We both freeze. He looks surprised to see me, even though he knew I was coming.
My brain doesn’t know this is normal because it buzzes like a live wire at the sight of him.
Every time I see him, it’s like someone put fresh batteries in me, my whole body lighting up bright and jittery.
God, this crush is so infuriating. That’s all it is: a simple crush that I can’t get rid of. I’m not in love with him or anything.
“Your hair,” he says with the same reverence people have when they see a moving piece of artwork.
“What?” I look at a lock on my shoulder. It was blue when I saw him last week. It’s purple now. “Oh, yeah. I changed it.”
My fluttering heart stops dead as he reaches out and runs a lock tenderly through his fingertips, examining it as if it were precious, expensive material. His touch is so light. If I hadn’t been watching him do it, I would have barely noticed.
That’s not true. I would have noticed it because I’m drawn to him like a magnet to ferromagnetic metal.
A tiny shiver works its way down my spine.
I’m gawking at him but oh my god. That’s the first time someone’s ever looked at any part of me with some sort of awe, even if it’s human nature to examine curious, colorful things more closely.
I want him to keep doing it. I want him to run his fingers through my hair while I—nope. Nope. Calm down, Mari.
“Sorry,” he says, his hand falling back to his side as he shakes his head.
A vibrant blush creeps into his cheeks. I embarrassed him with my staring.
I really have to get better at that. He’s so ...
everything. Cute, funny, handsome, smart.
I wonder what else I could do to make him blush.
Oh my god, down, girl. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have.
I-I like it. That’s a good color on you. ”
“Thank you,” I say, nervously smoothing my hand through my hair.
He jolts after a second, like he got a static shock.
“Come in,” he says, stepping back to let me pass through the doorway.
I slide my backpack off my shoulders and set it down next to one of the desks.
I assume it’s his because his lucky screwdriver, several pencils, and a calculator are laid in a neat line next to his computer.
Just like he lines up his tools when we’re building together.
“This is, uh, it,” he laughs nervously as he gestures around the small room.
It’s surprisingly tidy for being the home of two eighteen-year-old boys.
Hell, it’s cleaner than my room. There are NASA posters next to both lofted beds, and it makes me giggle.
Out of all the posters that two teenage boys could put up, these two put up NASA posters.
Under one bed is a futon. Under the other is an older TV on top of a mini fridge and a gaming system next to it, carefully placed on a small shelf with game and DVD cases.
“It’s nice. Your room is cleaner than mine,” I laugh. “Do you clean up for all the girls or just the ones you invite over to kill zombies?” I tease.
He nervously rubs the back of his neck but lets out a low chuckle. “There are no other girls.” That absolutely devastating dimple makes an appearance. It’s no less captivating than when we met.
Now, I know he’s messing with me. Samantha said he’s a great kisser, and there’s only one way she could know that.
Half the people I’ve ever met have had a crush on him.
I mean, look at him! He’s let his hair grow out.
The black waves, perfect smile, and big, gray eyes make him look more like a model than an engineering major. He’s just trying not to make it weird.
“Certainly none as good at video games,” I say with false confidence. “Or robot fighting,” I add with real confidence. I know my worth.
“Definitely not,” he says, that half-smile I’ve fallen in love with making an appearance. “Come on.” He waves me over to the rickety futon. I’m worried we’re not going to fit between his height and my width, but it’s perfectly comfortable as we sit down.
Our knees touch as we sit side by side. A familiar, cozy feeling.
We often sit next to each other, and between his long legs and the way I always sit kind of weird, it happens often.
Neither of us ever pulls away. It’s a grounding, small comfort.
Here, though, alone, it’s something more.
I should pull away, maybe, but I don’t. I need some comfort.
I need some joy. I need Jacob. He’s the only consistent thing I have besides combat robotics.
Everything keeps changing, getting bigger and harder and scarier. Bills stamped with “OVERDUE” in our mailbox. Classes that are actually challenging for once. The way the house feels empty, even when we’re all in it.
Then there’s Jacob. Knee pressed against mine, his warm body radiating heat in the early fall coolness.
I want to curl into his side and hide from the world, just for a second.
I want to tell him everything going on with my parents, and all my annoying medical stuff, even if it would probably scare him away. Even if he’s kissing Samantha.
He’s a reprieve from it all. He’s outside of it.
He doesn’t have to know the sad things. I know he suspects, especially since I started bringing my baby sibling with me to matches and build events.
But he can be this untouched spot in the chaos.
Here on this shitty futon, nothing can touch me. Well, except for him, but that’s okay.
He holds out a controller for me. “Cool rings,” he says as I take it. They click against the hard plastic of the controller.
“Thank you.”
Oh god, he’ll notice I’m blushing if I keep looking at him. Why is he looking at me like that?
I quickly turn to the TV, hoping he’ll look away too. “Ready to kick some zombie ass?”
“Hell yeah!”
We play until the sun starts to dim. After a final, brutal loss, I throw my hands up and fall back against the lumpy futon. “Bah! I knew I shouldn’t have used all my grenades earlier.”
Jacob laughs and leans back, too, looking at me as we both rest our heads.
“We would have died way sooner if you hadn’t used them.
You take the risks I wouldn’t.” Our knees bump.
His hand finds my free one on my lap and intertwines our fingers, his tranquil expression never changing.
I think I could die right here and be happy.
I might. For the second time today, my heart has stopped beating. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” I manage to rasp out. Did he get closer? I think he got closer. His entire leg is pressed against mine now.
The alarm on Jacob’s phone screeches, and we both jolt upright, my hand suddenly cold without his tangled up in it. “Shit,” he sighs. “I have to go to class.”
“I should be getting home anyways.”
We silently pack up our things and walk out together.
“We should do this again,” he says as we exit into the cooling fall air. Hold hands? I want to ask, but he’s nothing but warm and friendly. Friends hold hands. Even if that’s all we are, I’ll take it. I just want him in my life.
“Can’t wait.”