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Seven
Okay, okay, so I haven’t told Corrine about the documentary and, sure, I pulled the biggest dick move by telling her I was too sick to cheer today, all so Holden and I could get to the Harrisburg Mall early to film, but in my defense, she hasn’t asked about the documentary since that first time either.
Then again, yesterday, she did bring me a leather jacket from the thrift shop she works at—something she does a lot without ever wanting to be repaid, but I keep a running total—just because she saw it and thought of me. Which made it harder to bring this up.
We came inside about ten minutes ago, after Holden completed an interview for Vice and Virtual’s web series. I filmed as much as I could, trying to be sneaky about it, but eventually had to stop when someone from the company asked me to. It’s not like it was easy for me to pick up audio over the sounds of setup anyway.
“How do you think you’ll do tonight?” I ask Holden now.The mall, a sad dying dinosaur of a place, isn’t that busy today and the Muzak isn’t too loud, so I don’t bother to put a microphone on Holden just yet.
“I’m great at multitasking, so I think I’ll do well tonight.” He abandons a carton of soggy steak fries he got at the food court in the nearest trash can and heads toward Kay Jewelers.
I smirk at the fact that he used a complete sentence for me. “Really? You couldn’t drive and answer questions on the way here.”
“I could. I chose not to.” He thrusts his hands into his pockets. “Just like you chose not to let me take photos earlier this week.”
“Look, Corrine doesn’t know yet. I’m going to tell her, but you showing up like that just put me on edge.”
“Why does it matter if she knows? We’re not doing anything wrong.” He surprises me by making a beeline into the store.
“Well, no, but she should know.” I glance around. “Did you mean to come in here?”
He ignores my question. “Don’t you think it’s pretty telling that you haven’t told her yet? You must feel like you’re doing something wrong.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and leans on the counter. “I’ll just text her now.”
“No!” I put my hand over his phone. “Not today. I told her I was sick. I missed an away game.”
“You chose me over a game?” He places his hand against his chest. “I don’t know if flattered is the right word, or maybe chuffed—”
“I chose thedocumentaryover a game.”
“I thought you said I wasthe documentary?” He spins toward the counter and places two hands over the glass, like an asshole. A salesman walks up, but Holden waves him away with a confident smile. “Just looking, thank you.”
“Why are we looking at jewelry instead of, I don’t know, doing something related to this contest?” I point the camera at his face. “Forget your mom’s birthday?”
He glances up. “No one said you had to be here.”
“You’re my subject. You know—andlove—that I have to follow you.”
He ignores me. “What kind of jewelry do girls like?”
“Well,Corrinedoesn’t like jewelry from her ex-boyfriends, so...”
Pulling a face, he says, “It’s not for Corrine. Or my mom.”
Doubtful. He probably heard about Logan and wants to win her back. He’s been single ever since Corrine ended things and, sure, she’s been single too, but she has less to prove. She’s busy 24-7. “Mara?”
“No.”
“Your other sister, though, kind of weird.”
“It’s maybe for a teenage girl.”
“You don’t know her age?”
“No—” He rolls his eyes. “If I find something she’d like,maybeI’ll buy it.”
The full weight of this moment hits me. Is he finally going to make a move on the girl Corrine mentioned? It’s been months, but I guess Holden’s never been brave, or speedy. He does things at his own pace, and I used to find it endearingwhen we were kids—like when he’d stand at the end of the diving board just to backtrack and use the ladder into the pool, or when he’d read only one chapter of a book before bed even though we were reading it together and I could never discuss the ending with him because it took a hundred years for him to get there—but this is something I will not let him waste my time with. I already feel bad doing this behind Corrine’s back; if she knew I was here—helping him—she’d for sure be pissed.
I point to the first piece I see, a small circular pendant with diamonds embedded into it. Unfortunately, it’s not hideous. “It’s not cliché like a heart, but it’s still small and dainty, and silver goes with more clothes than gold does.”
