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Chapter Twenty
Nala
Malcolm and I are friends.
In fact, it’s almost like it used to be. He meets me on the beach almost every day, sometimes with Teo, sometimes without. His cast has been downgraded to just below the knee instead of slightly covering it, and it’s thinner as well, so he’s more mobile even with his crutches. The other day, he met Jordan and me at the cove with his own paddleboard, wrapping a large black garbage bag around his cast before hopping over, sitting down, and paddling away.
Some mornings, when I come back to shore after my last wave, he’s there, a smoothie or a carton of orange juice in one hand, a towel in the other.
It’s amazing how much he knows me—and terrifying, because I know him too. I know this Malcolm, the one who is attentive and friendly and supportive. He’s the one I fell in love with…the same one who didn’t love me.
“I don’t think you’re right.”
Jordan and I both signed up for Spanish classes during intersession, and right now we’re on a break. She’s eating a sandwich and fruit; I’m eating the small box of cheese spread and bread sticks that moms put in their kids’ lunches. When I’m done with the breadsticks, I use the rest of the cheese on my apple. Jordan cringes, but I just bite in.
“Don’t think I’m right about what?” I ask over a mouthful of cheesy-apple.
“Malcolm. I don’t think he didn’t love you—I think he loved you too much, and it scared him. You were fifteen, Nala.”
I shake my head. “But I’m not fifteen now, and he hasn’t made a move or done anything else to indicate he wants more from me, or that he sees me in a different way.”
“What about New Year’s?”
“What about it? He said he missed me, he promised not to disappear. That’s not a declaration of love—it’s a commitment to his family. Mal’s loyal, Jordan.”
“And in love,” she shoots back. I hate that I want to believe her. For a minute, when he held me and we could hear everyone on the block cheering, I thought the same thing. This is it—Mal’s holding me, and he’s going to kiss me and start our new lives off. But he didn’t. He held me, he rubbed my back, he leaned away and smiled at me, asking me if I was all right. And then he went back to the group, waiting for me to walk with him, before saying goodnight to everyone and going to his room.
Jordan and Brooks brought me home.
“Why would he do that if he loved me?” We walk back into the classroom with the other people, finding our seats and smiling when our neighbor, Colton, waves from his own seat across the room.
“Honor? Moral code? It was an emotional night; we’d all been drinking. And you guys haven’t really talked all that much without fighting. Maybe he’s trying to get to know you before anything happens.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how Malcolm works, Jordan. He’s an action guy. If he wants something, he goes for it, fighting or pushing until he’s got it. Waiting for someone else? Not his style.”
Her look is skeptical, but I get to ignore it because our professor walks in and class begins. We go through another slideshow, talking and repeating, working through sentence frames and common vocabulary that, should we be thrust into a Spanish-speaking country, will help us with basic conversation and needs.
When we move on to partner work, the professor asks us to walk around the room and interview people, asking basic questions using our question words, along with vocabulary about family and school. I work my way through classmates, laughing when Colton breathes a sigh of relief.
“They’re all laughing at me. I don’t think I’m any good at this.”
“Let’s see. Greet me and tell me something about yourself.”
It doesn’t take more than the greeting for me to realize Colton is, in fact, terrible at this. When he’s done, he must see my face. “Told you.”
“You know thehis silent, right? NotHo-la, butoh-la?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“Not even close.” His laugh is friendly.
“Maybe I can buy you dinner and you can tutor me?”
He’s not joking, and I can’t decide if I want him to be. A date…it’s been ages since I had a date. I haven’t hooked up with anyone since I got back to the states and that was over a year ago. Wow. Decision made. “Only if you ask in Spanish.”
He butchers it, of course, but I give him a, “Sí,” because I’m done pining after a memory of a boy, when I might have the chance to make my own memories.
“Is that what you meant when you made your promise at New Year’s?”
Jordan and I are driving home after class, Colton behind us in his car, ironically, and she’s glancing at me every now and then while she navigates the small distance between school and our apartment.
“Yes. I want something new to hold onto,” I tell her. “I admit, I thought it would be Mal, but now I’m just ready for something. I don’t want to be alone all of the time.”
“You’re not alone.”
“I know I have you,” I tell her, and she relaxes. “But what you and Brooks have, what Hunter and Isa have…call me crazy, but I want a go at that. Maybe I don’t need forever right now, but a date? Some time when I’m only thinking about another person and it’s exciting to know they’re only thinking about me? Yeah, I could do with some of that.”
Jordan nods. “You deserve it. And if he ends up being who you want,” she says, indicating to the car behind us. “Then I’ll be happy for you.”
I can’t imagine feeling anything for him that I’ve felt for Malcolm, which cements my point that I need to move on. So I nod and work to convince both of us that this date is exactly what I need.
