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Not for Betsey.
Not for me.
“I think we should break up with Dave,” I say flatly during a commercial break that night. I haven’t talked to Sean since our fight and I’m in a surly mood. We’re eating ice cream in the rec room and Ella keeps looking over her shoulder, probably because we’ve been talking about Petra and Mom and Sean and other secrets, but it’s bugging me. Everything’s bugging me.
“Say what now?” Ella asks, even though she heard me. Her loaded spoon hangs in midair.
“I’m cool with whatever,” Betsey says, leaning over and eating the ice cream from Ella’s spoon.
“Sick,” Ella says, scrunching her face in disgust.
“It was going to drip,” Betsey says with a little laugh. “And besides, we probably have matching germs.”
“I still don’t want your spit on my spoon.”
I roll my eyes at the two of them and the show comes back on; the matter is dropped. Or at least I think it is. A particularly tense scene starts and all of a sudden, Ella grabs the remote and presses Pause.
“Hey!” Betsey and I say in unison.
“We’re not breaking up with Dave,” she says to me, frowning. “I’m going to a high school dance!
“And you,” she says, looking at Betsey. “Stop saying things like we have the same germs. We’re not the same person!” Betsey laughs, which makes Ella frown deeper.
“I’m serious,” Ella says quietly, which makes Betsey serious, too. “We may have matching DNA, but we don’t like the same things. We don’t make the same choices. We don’t have the same dreams. We’re our own people. I’m me. You’re you. And Lizzie’s…”
“From another planet,” Betsey interrupts, making all of us laugh. Afterward, Bet grabs Ella’s hand. “I know you’re you. And I love you for you.”
“I love you for you, too,” Ella says. They hug, and I take the opportunity to eat the last bite of ice cream out of the container. The lump in my throat only makes it stick a little bit on the way down.
Later, I call Sean on the spy phone.
“Hey. I’m glad you called,” he says when he picks up after the first ring. He sounds tired… and sad.
“Did I wake you up?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “I was…” His words trail off and I feel like whatever he was doing when I called isn’t important. It’s this moment that matters. Sean sighs heavily. “Lizzie, I’m so sorry. I feel like crap about what I said. I can’t believe I did that. It’s none of my business.”
“Yes, it is,” I say forcefully. “I made it your business by telling you. I think that I… I just don’t know how to act sometimes now that you know. I mean, I know you’re right.”
“I just want you to have what you deserve: a real life,” Sean says, and it makes tears pop into my eyes. “But it’s selfishly motivated, too. I mean, I say those things for me. I want you to myself. I want to see you all the time, not just during the afternoons.” He pauses. “When you’re not around, I’m sad. It feels like something’s missing. Like I want something I can’t have.”
“I feel that way, too,” I say quietly.
There’s a long pause, and I’m sure Sean’s as confused as I am: He blows out his breath hard. So much needs to change before we can act like a normal couple: It feels like an impossible situation.
“I want to be the one to humiliate you in the main hall at school,” he says.
“Funny.” I bite my lip. “Hey, I’m really sorry about that.”
“Not your fault,” he says, but it sounds a little forced.
“Even so, I’m sorry you had to see it.”
“Me, too.” His voice is flat. “But I feel worse about our fight. It was a sucky day all around.”
“Not all of it.”
