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“I bet you are,” Todd affirmed. “Just talking about Notre Dame, man. It’s wild. I might have to take a trip out to Indiana to visit.”
“Come on by,” Jeremy said. “I accept seafood in exchange for a place to crash.”
“It’s a deal,” Todd returned.
Alana grabbed a second beer and lifted the tab. Normally, she was quite safe around alcohol, purposeful with each sip. But something about that night burned through her, raising her blood pressure. She felt dangerous and chaotic, like a woman wiggling on a tightrope.
Jeremy finally stepped toward her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. It was a respectful kiss, one of expectation and not of passion. Alana’s eyes watered. A scream in the back of her head demanded her:What the hell are you going to do without him?
“Hi.” Alana gave him her prettiest smile, the kind that would have made him weak in the knees three years ago. He barely smirked back.
“Mom’s been insane this week,” he said, rubbing his temple as Todd handed him a beer. “She’s going through my stuff. Making lists. Shopping for college already. I think she thinks that Indiana is four planets away.”
Alana’s heart thumped. To her, Indiana was at least five planets away, maybe six. “She’s worried about you.”
“All I need to worry about is football,” Jeremy affirmed, his brows knitting together.
Alana nodded, blinking quickly to keep her eyes from filling with tears. After another horrible pause, Tiffany, who’d grown tired of Todd ignoring her, grabbed Alana’s arm and led her to the makeshift dance floor, which was just an area of the beach about ten feet from the bonfire. Toward the waterline, Julia and Charlie walked along, hand-in-hand, still prattling on.What the heck did they talk about for so long?
It took several songs, but after a little while, Alana found herself lost in the music and the sound of the frothing waves along the beach. She, Tiffany, and several other senior girls howled at the moon like a wild pack of dogs, twisting their hips and feeling the spring air across their cheeks. Occasionally, she twisted around to catch sight of Jeremy, who continued to plow through one boring conversation after another with the other football guys he’d known forever. Jeremy was their golden boy, the only one of them who planned to do anything incredible with his life.
Of Jeremy’s football career, Greta and Bernard Copperfield had very little to say. “I hope he takes care of his head,” Greta had said once. “I don’t like the statistics of that dangerous game.” Bernard, on the other hand, had simply mentioned a book he’d read once about football, that it “didn’t end well for anyone involved.” In this context, Alana normally stood up for Jeremy’s football career. “Not everyone can write books, Daddy. And not everyone can study the arts, Mom.” Greta and Bernard hadn’t fully understood that, though. To them, everyone needed to create art— and football, in and of itself, was little more than a bunch of strong men running in circles on a field.
A little while later, Jeremy bent down to whisper in Alana’s ear. “Hi. Can we talk for a sec?” Alana’s laughter stuttered to a halt. Jeremy’s tone was serious, overly so. She swigged her beer and sauntered off toward the parking lot, her arms crossed as a shield. If only she could protect herself.
“You look um. Pretty tonight.” Jeremy complimented. Was something on his mind other than them, or was it something to do with their relationship?
“Thanks.” Alana was so used to hearing that. It was no longer useful currency to her. After another beat, she said, “What’s going on, Jeremy?”
Jeremy blinked several times. “Alana, I’ve been thinking. A lot.”
Alana felt the impact of these words like the sharp dig of a knife against the cavity of her chest. “Have you.” She sounded so cold.
“Yeah.” He ripped his fingers through his hair. “It’s just that, well. I’m headed to Notre Dame in July already. Mom and Dad want to go on vacation before that, in June. I won’t be around that much this summer. And then when autumn hits? I won’t have much time at all. For myself, or for anything.”
“For anything.” Alana repeated his words as a way to make sense of them.
“Yeah.”
They held one another’s gaze for a long and horrible moment. Alana shifted her weight. She could feel it— vitriol coursing up through her throat. She wanted to destroy him.
“It’s because you don’t think I’m good enough for you anymore, isn’t it?” Alana shot out.
Jeremy stuttered. “That isn’t it, Alana.”
“Come on, Jeremy. Admit it. You’re going to a prestigious school on a football scholarship. If you don’t go pro in football, you’ll have an incredible degree, one that will nab you basically any job of your dreams. Compare that to me.” She shoved her finger against her chest angrily. “I have no idea what I’m going to do this autumn. I have no plans at all. I’m a washed-up nobody compared to you.”
“Don’t say stuff like that about yourself.” Jeremy’s eyes glowed with genuine surprise.
“You’re not denying it. You are breaking up with me,” Alana shot out.
Jeremy dropped his chin to his chest. Despite his six-foot-three height, he now looked as minuscule as a frightened child.
“I know that I’ll regret this,” he breathed. “I always do.”
“Yeah? Well, you can’t take it back this time,” Alana blared. “You’re going off to Notre Dame to be a football star. I’ll stay here on Nantucket Island, waitressing or scooping ice cream or whatever job I can get.”
“I just…” Jeremy shook his head, his face shadowed with sorrow.
