Page 56 of See You Next Tuesday

“Yeah?” Anya turned her body toward Gabe’s, and he looked up at the movement. There were tears in his eyes.

“Yeah.” Gabe nodded. “And he was like—he was the good one, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Anya felt tears pricking; she quickly blinked them back.

“He was the best.” Gabe smiled, but he looked incredibly sad. “Valedictorian, captain of the soccer team—he was the guy everyone wanted to be, but he was so nice you couldn’t even be mad at him about it. And I was just, kinda goofy, you know? I liked making people laugh. My parents always wanted me to be more…But Danny never made me feel like that. He thought my dumb little-kid pranks were so funny.”

Anya tried to imagine Danny: this older, more serious version of Gabe. Darker hair, maybe. A sincere smile instead of Gabe’s impish one.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Car accident,” Gabe said numbly. “The night he graduated high school. Danny wasn’t driving, but the truck hit them on the passenger side.”

“Oh my god, Gabe.”

“And my parents…” Gabe shook his head. “I tried to be more like what they wanted. Studied harder, two sports. But my dad was never home anymore and my mom—well, you saw.”

“It seemed like maybe that had happened before,” Anya said tentatively, and Gabe nodded.

“It’s not usually that bad, but yeah. She gave up all her charity boards, stopped seeing her friends. She couldn’t sleep, so she started taking pills. She just…she couldn’t cope. And my dad didn’t help. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how. So she kind of…floated away. I couldn’t stop it.”

“You were a teenager,” Anya stressed. “And you’d just lost your brother.”

“I guess,” Gabe said, but it was clear he didn’t believe her.

“What about you?” Anya asked. “How did you cope?”

“At first everyone pitied me. They were always looking at me like I must be so sad. And I was—like, I really was. But I hated when they looked at me like that. So I went back to being who I was before. Like it never happened. And I was busy, so that helped, all the studying and practices and every after-school club that would have me. I couldn’t be home. So I just…wasn’t.”

“And now you work campaigns.” Anya exhaled, understanding. “And never go home for Christmas.”

“I tried to go home, for a while,” Gabe said. “But whenever I came home on college breaks, it felt like—I don’t know, like it made my mom sadder or something. Like me being there reminded her that Danny wasn’t. At some point it was like, who am I even doing this for? I don’t want to be here, and nobody wants me here.”

Anya thought back to the things Gabe had said to her in Ohio, in Vieques. How much he needed everyone to love him. She was so foolish not to understand that there might be some terrible reason why.

“But everybody wants you on their campaign,” Anya said softly.

“Campaigns are…” Gabe shrugged. “I’m good at them. And people need me. It makes me feel like…like even if my parents don’t want me, I still have a place to be.”

That was the second Anya burst into tears—humiliatingly noisy sobs—and Gabe turned to her in alarm.

“I’m so sorry!” she choked. “Oh god, this is so not about me, please ignore me, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Anya?” Gabe looked completely bewildered. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing! I’m being stupid. And feeling awful—about those things I said to you at Chandelier Bar, and oh my god, in Vieques?! But we don’t have to—”

“I said some shitty things to you at Chandelier Bar too,” he said, frowning. “And what are you saying about Vieques?”

“That stupid beach bar!” Anya wailed. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve—great, mascara all over Gabe’s sweatshirt. “I was so humiliated you rejected me, and being furious with you felt like the only possible way I could handle it. You’re not a selfish asshole, and of course you want people to love you, it makes complete sense. I am so, so sorry.”

“Hold on.” Gabe shook his head in confusion. “You think I rejected you in Vieques?”

“I mean, yeah?” She and Gabe were both looking at each other in complete shock, like neither of them could believe they were having this conversation.

“How could you think that?” he asked.

“Is that a trick question?” Anya laughed; she felt insane. “I’m sorry, we were talking about something much more important. We really don’t have to talk about this.”