We start packing up, both moving as fast as we can without making it obvious. I pick up the folded hoodie from the floor and put it under my arm. I sling my backpack over my shoulder. She slings her tote. We are both standing now on either side of the table.
I look at her. I have been working on the thing I want to say for the last hour and fifteen minutes. The Markham thing. The thank-you. I have been waiting for the right moment in the session, and the right moment didn’t come, because there was no right moment, because the entire session was wrong.
I clear my throat. “I had a meeting with Markham. He pulled up my grades. I’m at a B-minus. I got a ninety-one on my last quiz. That’s because of you. So.” I look deep into her eyes. “I just wanted to say thank you. For what you’ve been doing.”
She stares back. Her face does something small. It might be surprise, or it might be sadness. I can’t tell. “You’re welcome.”
I stand there, looking at her, but she’s already moving toward the door. She opens and walks out. I watch her go. She walks toward the elevator, and I’m left with my heart pounding in my chest.
Chapter 22
Lucy
OnWednesdaymorning,theapartment is quiet because Gianna left early. My body actually aches. Holding my face still across a table from Benson Reeve for an hour and fifteen minutes yesterday turns out to be a thing the body remembers. I lie on my back looking at the ceiling for a long time, and then I force myself out of bed because sulking in it all day will do absolutely nothing. I didn’t expect he would still keep me as a tutor after how upset Gianna was, but I’m thankful he was the one who told her, not me. She mentioned it in passing last night, and continued on like she didn’t want to talk about it. After I make something to eat, I attend my classes and then I go to my mom’s house. I help Bear with his homework while Mom and Tyr talk about his job on the couch. I still can’t wrap my mindaround the fact that she’s been acting normal all these weeks. I’m still waiting for her to drop the act.
Wednesday night, Gianna brings home Vietnamese, and we watch two episodes of Love Island together. We talk smack about the couples and the drama. She passes me the spring rolls because they’re my favorite. I pass her the chili crisp. Mara sends a meme to our group text at 10:47 p.m. and we both laugh at our phones at the same moment.
Thursday, I have the second tutoring session of the week with Benson, and it’s the same as Tuesday’s. Cold. Quiet. Work only. I read him a problem. He does it. I check it. I slide it back. He doesn’t look at me unless required, and I don’t look at him. The clock above the whiteboard moves slower than it has ever moved. At five o’clock, he saysthank you,and I sayyou’re welcome,and we pack up at the same speed. He leaves, and I leave thirty seconds after him, so we don’t end up in the elevator together.
I walk home with my shoulders tight. When I open the apartment door, Gianna is on the couch with the blanket and a half-pint of Phish Food. She doesn’t ask about the session. She lifts the blanket on the empty cushion next to her, so I sit down. We watch three more episodes, and I let the noise fill my head, so I don’t have to think about anything else.
Friday night the four of us — me, Gianna, Mara, a girl named Ainsley from Mara’s communications class — go to a Thai place near campus. Gianna told Mara that we’re hitting pause on the Hawthorne House parties. She complained, Gianna gave her a long face, and that was the end of that. Now we’re here. I order noodles. Ainsley is sweet and slightly tipsy and tells a long story about her ex-boyfriend that does not require any of us to do anything except react.
Saturday, I stay in. Sunday, Gianna drags me to a pumpkin patch with Mara becausewe are seniors and we are doingfall things, Lucy, don’t make me beg.I go and take pictures of Gianna and Mara in front of a haystack. And more in the pumpkin patch. I buy a small white pumpkin myself, for reasons that are mostly that Gianna keeps looking at it and sayingLucy, that’s perfect for you, it’s small and quietly intimidating.I bring it home. I put it on the kitchen counter next to the saltshaker.
Sunday night, I am at my desk in my bedroom with a Real Analysis problem half-finished, and the apartment is quiet because Gianna is in the bath. I stop mid-step on a proof and look at my own hands on the page.
I bought pumpkins today. I’ve been watching Love Island when I don’t really care about it. I went to eat Thai with the girls and suffered from a stomachache all night. I’ve been doing exactly what Gianna has wanted me to do.
I stare at my hands and think to myself about how I don’t know what I would do with a Sunday night if no one were watching. I don’t know what kind of music I would play in this apartment if Gianna weren’t here. I don’t know what I would eat for dinner. I have built my life around being the person other people need me to be. I’ve been doing it for my mom ever since I can remember, and I’m now doing it for my best friend. This is exhausting. I feel dead on the inside. I close the notebook and go to bed.
Monday is normal. I go to class. I have two tutoring sessions for my non-Benson Reeve athletes. I see Gianna at home. We watch Love Island. I go to bed. Everything is back to how it was before, and I can’t help but feel the nagging feeling that I should stop living for other people.
Tuesday morning, I’m at my desk packing my tote when my phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Bear.
I frown — Bear should be in second period right now. He doesn’t call me during school hours. He texts me memes during school hours, but that’s about it.
“Lucy.” His voice is small and echoey with a hollow sound behind it.
“Bear, where are you? Why are you whispering?”
“I’m in the bathroom. I have to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“Mom never paid for the field trip.”
I stop. “What?”
He says, “You said you gave her the money.”
“I did give her the money, and I gave her extra to make you a homemade lunch.”
“Everyone went on the stupid field trip, and I’m sitting in a classroom all day with a substitute teacher.”
I gasp at the idea of him all alone while his classmates are out on a field trip that I fucking paid for. “Are you serious right now?” But it’s not a question for Bear. Anger rises in my throat. “I’m going to handle this.”
