Ellie:Fine. I’ll meet you at The Park.
Jack:Can I pick you up?
I consider it for a moment, but I don’t want to risk any chance of being held hostage if I decide I don’t actually want to hear what he has to say.
Ellie:No. I’llmeet you there in 20.
I change into a t-shirt and shorts that Ihaven’tbeen wearing for three days straight, and head downstairs to ask my dad if he’ll give me a ride.
Twenty minutes later, I see Jack’s truck in the parking lot before I see him. Before I get out of the car, my dad gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m happy to see you out of your cave, Ellie Bellie. I was starting to get a little worried.”
I attempt a reassuring smile and respond, “I’m okay dad, just feeling a little more introverted this summer. No need to worry.”
With a quick kiss on his cheek, I tell him I’ll call when I’m ready to be picked up. Then, with knots in my stomach, I nervously walk deeper into the park to find Jack.
I spot him at a picnic table in front of the grilled cheese truck, and he looks up at me with a tentative smile and a wave.
“Thanks for coming,” he says, a little timidly.
Good, he should be nervous.
I nod, taking a seat on the bench across from him, focusing on the wood grain of the table so I don’t have to look at him. I’m afraid I’ll start crying if I do. When he doesn’t say anything else, I try to mask my sadness with anger as I look up and demand, “Talk.”
“I don’t even know where to begin, Ellie. I’m sorrier than you could imagine. If I thought they were actuallygoing to follow through on that stupid bet I would have kicked their asses.”
Now my anger is real. “So you did know about it the whole time then.”
It’s his turn to stare down at the table, looking truly ashamed.
Again, good.
“I did,” he admits quietly. “I had no idea it’d go that far. I know they’re idiots, but I didn’t think David was taking it seriously anymore. Not when things changed between you and Griffin. ”
Even the brief mention of Griffin makes me freeze, a muscle in my jaw twitching as I clench my teeth.
When I don’t reply, he continues on, “I don’t ever expect you to forgive Gr–us. I know you told us to fuck off, but I couldn’t take it anymore.”
My rage falters briefly when my typically composed deadpan friend (ex-friend?) looks up at me with tears in his eyes.
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” he says in a whisper so low I can barely hear it over the noise of the trucks and lunch-goers. “I miss you all the time. These have been the most miserable few weeks of my life–I thought we’d be having fun all summer long, but now it’s just me and my granny watching Jeopardy and making casseroles.”
I roll my eyes and look away.He can’t be serious.
“Oh stop it, I’m sure you guys have gone back to your normal unholy trinity bullshit.”
“No, we haven’t,” he counters earnestly. “I haven’t seen either of them. I’ve been just as pissed at them as you have.”
My eyebrows skyrocket at the audacity of that statement.
“Okay notaspissed, but I am furious. They fucked up, and now everyone is suffering.”
I meet his eyes again, and the walls I’ve put up crumble a bit at the look on his face. He’s got hollow circles under his eyes, and it looks like he hasn’t gotten a haircut since school let out. He’s looking much less “Kennedy” and much more “Tim Burton.”
“I miss you too, Jack,” I say gently, deciding to extend an olive branch. “I think we can probably be friends.”
His shoulders drop with relief as he runs a hand down his face.
“But I have conditions.”
