“Just forget it, Jessi,” she says. “College is a couple weeks away. I’ll make friends there. I’ll be fine.”
She starts to walk away before she turns back. “Honestly, it’s you I feel sorry for. You push everyone away. You act like you have some kind of plague. You think no one will like you if you tell the truth, but it’s only becauseyoudon’t like you. And I hate to break it to you, but you’re only one person. You do not get the final say on everyone’s opinion of you.”
“Willow, I’m sorry,” I say, feeling like I’m about to cry. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Luke had a brother?” she asks.
I nod hopefully, thinking maybe she’s forgiven me enough to want to know details now.
“And he died?”
I nod again.
“And that’s why Eric hates you? Not because of some childhood grudge, but because of whatever happened,” she says.
“Yeah. I mean, I think we’re fine now, but ...”
“Wow,” Willow says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Eric told me all that. I really should thank you for something.”
Hope springs eternal, and my eyes light up again. “What?”
“I realized because of you how completely awful it is to be lied to. If you love someone, you tell them the truth. Everything else is an excuse,” she says. “So I told my dad about my channel, and about Brett, and about not wanting to major in business.”
“And?” I ask.
“I’ll tell my friends in college what he had to say. I have no interest in telling you anything more about myself.”
Her words feel like a physical slap. Two of our campers arrive at exactly that moment. Willow busies herself setting up, leaving me to approach them, welling eyes and all.
“Hey, Kelsie, Lydia,” I say. “How was your weekend?”
They launch into a story about their Slip ’N Slide, and I nod and try to seem like I’m listening.
Getting to lunch is more of the same, and it’s excruciating. The whole thing with Willow hasn’t given me enough time to worry about seeing Luke after the weekend, and a sick feeling falls over me as we walk over to the science station. Except it’s Sunshine there, not Luke. Maybe, after the way I left him, the thought of seeing me today was too much and he decided to take a sick day. I would probably have done the same.
At lunch, I check my phone and nearly have a heart attack.
I have nine missed calls.
Five from Naomi.
Three from Mom.
One from Dad.
No,I think.
No no no no.
Willow’s walking past me in the locker room, about to go out to the cafeteria, but she stops when she sees the expression on my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, despite herself.
I can’t speak. I just show her my call log.
“I don’t get it,” she says. “Who’s Naomi?”
“Luke’s mom’s best friend. I think ... I think ...” The room is spinning around me, and suddenly it makes sense why Luke is not here today.
