Jamie froze, and then lifted only his eyes. His glasses’ lenses made them look larger and brighter. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it does.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
I gave him a challenging stare. “You can’t tell me what something feels like to me.”
“You complaining the whole time and not eating the ice cream I bought you doesnotfeel like a date.” Jamie gave his head a slow shake. “If it does, you must’ve been on some really crappy dates.” And then, once more, he stilled. This time, Jamie’s eyes didn’t rise to meet mine.
The awkward hush fell over the table. We both knew I’d only ever gone on dates with one person—Dalton Giovanni. My ex-boyfriend. AKA the biggest loser on the entire planet. Possibly in the entire galaxy. I couldn’t imagine there being a bigger loser than a guy who dumpedhis girlfriend of two years because he didn’t want to be “held back by his hometown.” Direct quote.
Or because she was a “talentless loser who had no ambition.” Paraphrasing.
I turned toward the road, watching the few cars drive by, trying to get my mind’s eye to erase the image of my ex. “You’re so right,” I said, scooping a spoonful of ice cream soup. “To be fair, Addison doesn’t havethatmany good date spots.”
Jamie said nothing. He’d stopped trying to scoop up more M&M’s, but I now pretended not to notice. That was what I was good at, after all. If I could just pretend, if I could fool him—and everyone around me—it’d become reality.
The dark feeling circled me, waiting to pounce.
“Except, you know what?” I stirred my ice cream more aggressively. “I like things the way they are now. You, Nellie, me. No one else. Let’s just leave all the relationship drama out of it.”
“I can’t get a girlfriend?”
The question hit me harder than the cup to the face earlier this morning. “You want one?”
Jamie pointedly looked into his ice cream cup. I wasn’t really sure why—he didn’t have any ice cream left to scrape up. His spoon scratched against the side of the Styrofoam uselessly. “I’m sure I’ll have one at some point.”
The concept of Jamie having a girlfriend was… strange. Jamie, like his sister, had never been in a relationship. He was so introverted, kept to himself—what kind of girl would complement him? Definitely not someone loud and energetic. But if she was quiet, too, would they just be quiettogether? Would she fit in well with our trio if she was quiet?
I didn’t like the idea. “Who are you thinking?” I made a kissy face at the dark feeling. “Raelynn?”
Jamie did not like Raelynn Meyer, but she liked him. A lot. Enough to corner him in the library at one of the more recent Alderton-Du Ponte parties and try to unbutton his shirt. From the way he’d blushed and stumbled over his words whenever he talked about it, I now wondered if it was because he’d liked Raelynn more than he was letting on. And that was… weird.
Jamie ignored me. “I might meet someone at college.”
College. The mention of the no-man’s-land line between us, forbidden, yet danced around. I looked at his hoodie, even though it wasn’t NYU he meant.Columbia. The fancy college he dumped our lame NYU dream for.
The sugary ice cream left me sick to my stomach. “I still have you for the summer,” I said brightly, because that was the only answer that chased away the icky feeling. “You have your sister, and you have me. What more do you need?” And then I gave him a smile.
Jamie didn’t have much of an expression on his face as he looked up at me, but his eyes were soft. His gaze dropped to my lips, watching the way I smiled. He echoed the words I’d said minutes ago. “You’re so right.”
One final summer before everything imploded. I just needed it for a little bit longer. I needed to grip my normalcy for just a smidge longer.
It turned out, though, that I wouldn’t get normalcy for even another minute.
“Ah, itisyou two over here.” The voice was light, right over my shoulder, and a shadow fell over the table. “I thought I recognized that fiery hair.”
A descending sound started echoing in my ears, like something falling out of the sky, and my stomach dropped to my toes. Just as he’d recognize my hair, the voice was one I could still hear in my dreams, and one I still fantasized about even nine months later.
On a slow pivot against my will, my head turned to look up at who eclipsed the sun.
Dalton Giovanni. My ex-boyfriend who appeared as if conjured by my thoughts.
He grinned. “Hey, DD.”
Over the nine months since our breakup, I’d wished many things upon Dalton Giovanni. Many things I wasn’t proud of. I’d wished his hair had fallen out, but here he stood with the same luscious black mane of hair he’d had a year ago. I’d wished he’d never be able to grow facial hair—his obsession in high school—but here he stood with a faint five o’clock shadow that I knew boosted his ego.
His legs were working, he still had two arms, and he was alive. It seemed that none of my horrible wishes nor his well-deserved karma had reached him.
