Chapter Twenty-Three
El
I’d spent all morning working on my summer reading assignment.
As part of AP Literature, we had to read Wuthering Heights over the summer and write a three-page essay, analyzing the characters.
The assignment was due on the first day of school.
I’d already finished reading the book and was in the beginning stages of writing my essay, far ahead of most people I knew, who were procrastinating until the last minute.
Taking a break, I sat criss-crossed applesauce on my bed, an array of photos scattered around me that I recently got printed.
They were all photos of the previous school year, and I wanted to hang some new ones up in my room, so I was pulling out my favorites.
When I got to all the prom photos, I couldn’t suppress my smile.
Hadley’s sparkling gold dress had made her look like royalty, and there was a whole stack of photos we’d taken outside the country club, the golf course serene and empty behind us.
The sun had been beginning to set, casting a rainbow of colors over the sky.
There was a photo of us up close and personal with the camera, making funny faces, and I placed it in the favorites pile.
For as many photos as I took with Hadley and some of our other friends, there were even more of Matt and me.
I picked out so many good ones that the favorites pile was just becoming a “Matt and Eleanor pile”.
I still couldn’t believe Matt volunteered to go to prom with me. He hadn’t even attended his own prom. It meant a lot that he did this for me.
Everyone asked afterward how things had gone; I told them we had a great night.
What I didn’t tell them was that the night was filled with sparks teasing our skin every time we touched.
Or that we’d been singing and dancing in a mess of real life and imagination.
Or that every look between us was amorous and threatened the boundary of friendship that we’d placed between us over the years.
The next morning, things had continued as normal, and nothing came of all the close encounters.
It was shortly after that that I started talking to Riley, and it was only last week that Matt was arrested on my behalf.
Dad had been doing everything in his power to ensure this didn’t stay on Matt’s record, and each day, I tugged back and forth with guilt.
I knew I didn’t ask him to do what he did, but knowing it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me brought a batch of responsibility that tore at me.
My door was open, but a knock tapped along the wood anyway. “Hi, Daddy,” I glanced up.
“Hey, sweetie.” He sat at the very corner of my bed, careful not to mess up any of the piles I had going on. “What are you doin’?”
“Going through all my pictures. I wanna hang up some new ones.”
With a light click of his tongue, I caught Dad staring at the photos of Matt and me for a moment too long.
“Honey, I just wanna make sure...”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I just wanna make sure nothing is going on between you and Matt. You are just friends, right?” His words spilled over like a waterfall, and I froze.
Focusing far too hard on keeping my tone confident, I responded, “Yeah. Yeah, we’re just friends.”
“Okay,” he smiled at me, “good.”
“What’s wrong with Matt? I thought you loved Matt.”
Dad nodded. “I do. I do love Matt. I just,” he paused, running a hand over my hair, “don’t love him for my daughter.”
I offered a nod, ignoring the bullet that was wedged deeply inside my chest.
With another smile, he saw himself out.
And I spent the rest of the day pretending like the bullet wasn’t there.