“What is with the two of you lately?” I asked.
Luke didn’t answer, his jaw tight as he faced the road. If Mel had been healthy, she would have kicked their butts. As it was, I was going to have to do it on her behalf.
NOW
Exactly nothing is going my way.
To start with, my mom has bounced back from her dip a couple of weeks ago and Mom 2.0 has returned in full force. A really good thing—except suddenly she’s refusing to let go of the idea of having Luke over for supper.
“Mom, it’s awkward,” I complain as I stuff a muffin in my face for breakfast on Friday morning. “Everything is still super new.”
“How is it new when you dated last year?”
I remember the night last fall, while Mom and I cleaned out the fridge, when I told her that Luke and I were dating. It’s still one of my favorite memories—just the two of us, talking boys and crushes over a glass of milk.
Her spiral a couple of weeks ago made me realize how much I’ve grown used to the idea of the new her. It’s such a relief to have her happy and present that it makes me wonder what my life would have been like if I never had to know that another side of her existed. What if I had Mom 2.0 all my life? If it wasn’t just her occasional moments of lucidity and my father’s assurances that she loved me that I’d had to go on?
Maybe I’d never have gotten so close to the Cohens. Maybe I’d never have made such a mess of things. Maybe Rowan would still be alive.
I push these thoughts back and say, “Well, we just got back together.”
“Maybe, but he’s been in your life so long, I’d like to at least get to know him better. I feel like I hardly know him.”
“Okay,” I relent. “I’ll ask him.”
“That’s all I want,” she says, smiling.
So that’s the first crappy part of my day. The second is getting out of this camping trip with Willow and Brett.
By the time Willow and I are setting up for our last Camp MORE day for the week, I’ve prepared a list of plausible excuses for why Luke and I shouldn’t crash their couple’s hangout.
A horrific case of food poisoning, for one.
Head lice, contracted from one of the many kids we work with daily. As lice are contagious, Luke could even have them, too, if he wants.
Pinkeye. Again, contracted from a student.
There are literally hundreds of ailments that could potentially keep us from going on this trip, but unfortunately, Willow has managed to figure me out over the few months she has known me.
“I hope you’re ready for tomorrow!” she says brightly as we unstack chairs. “I don’t care what deathly syndrome you suddenly contract, you’re not getting out of it.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she continues. “In fact, if you die, I will personally carry your deceased body and put it in the car with us.” When I blink at her, she covers her mouth with her hand, surprised at her own words. “That took a dark turn.”
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
She places her hands on her hips and looks me up and down. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
I avert my gaze. “What? No.”
“Okay, so then what’s the big deal about going away forone nightwith our boyfriends?” Her eyes widen, and she lowers her voice. “Are you guys, like, saving yourselves or something?”
“No! Oh my God,” I say, my face burning. Unbidden, memories of kissing Luke’s jaw, touching his chest, straddling him flash through my mind.
“Well, I don’t know these things! And I wouldn’t judge even if you were. More power to you. But it’s literally the only thing I can think of that explains the way you’re behaving.”
“I’m not behaving any way,” I insist.
“So let’s just do it, okay? It will be so much fun.”
