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I stayed quiet.
A big part of me wanted to argue with her. A big part of me wanted to call her out and be childish and say she’d never fallen in love. Therefore, she wouldn’t understand. But a bigger part of me understood her and knew she was right. She wasn’t being cruel; she was being truthful. That was the greatest thing about having a real best friend—having someone who would tell the truth, even when it was hard.
Yet I couldn’t stop tutoring Milo.
I couldn’t let him go.
No matter how much logical sense that made.
“If it were me, Star, what would you tell me to do?” she questioned.
I hated that question, and I refused to answer it that evening because I knew the answer.
I would’ve told her to stop falling in love with the boy and focus on herself. It was as if my heart and my head were alienated from one another. As if they were enemies of war, playing for control of my soul.
Later that night, my dad called to check in on things. I walked out of the dorm room and headed to the study lounge so I could talk to him privately.
“How was your weekend getaway?” he asked. “I was a bit worried about you hiking by yourself.”
I swallowed hard, feeling guilty for the lie I had to tell. Dad thought I’d gone up north to hike on my own. He’d even offered to join me. “It was great. We’ll have to make it up there at some point. You’d love the ice caves.”
“Sign me up for next winter. I missed you tonight for dinner, but I packed up some meals for you and Whitney when you come next weekend. You’ll have double the food to take back with you.”
“Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”
“How are you feeling tonight? You doing okay?”
I hesitated and bit my bottom lip. It seemed that the good high I was riding over the weekend was coming to a complete halt. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, now tell me the truth.”
I sat on top of one of the tables and stared out at the snow falling outside. “Do you think Mom would be proud of me? Of the person I am?”
“Of course she would. She’d be amazed by you, buttercup.”
“Even if I made mistakes?”
“I think she’d love you even more for your mistakes. We never wanted you to be perfect, Star. We just wanted you to be you.”
A few tears rolled down my cheeks. I wished I were home. I wished I could have one of Dad’s big bear hugs because they always made me feel safe.
“What’s going on, Star?” he asked. “What’s on your mind?”
“A lot. Too much to talk about, I guess.”
“How can I help? Want me to drive up there for a visit?”
I smiled as if he could see me. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be okay. I’m just trying to decide whether I’m making the right choices, that’s all. Just a bit of anxiety.”
“Well, consider how the choice feels in your body before you overthink. Does it feel good and safe?”
Yes, yes…
He continued. “If it does, it’s probably the right option. Even if it looks wrong to the world.”
“Thanks, Dad. I needed to hear that.”
“Always. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
We chatted for a while longer before saying good night. As I climbed into bed, I thought about his words. The weekend with Milo felt good and safe. That was all I knew. That terrified me.
CHAPTER 19
Milo
“Hey, best friend,” Tom said on Monday afternoon, walking up to my locker. He’d been calling me his best friend for the past few weeks, ever since I’d accidentally nicknamed him. He was eating that slipup of mine like the Jolly Ranchers he was always shoving into his mouth.
“What’s up?” I asked as I shut my locker and swung my backpack onto my right shoulder.
“I wanted to invite you to the best party of all parties in the history of parties this coming Saturday. I’m officially turning eighteen. My parents will be out of town, and I’m throwing a rager.”
“Do people still say rager?” I muttered as we began walking toward our next class—English. My favorite hour of the day.
“People still say rager. It’s me. I’m people.” He pulled out a card from his backpack and handed it to me. “Here’s your invite.”
“You had invites printed?”
“I’m just that level of extra.”
I glanced down at the invitation in my hand and arched an eyebrow. “Choose your own Tom costume party?”
“Any Tom of your choice—except Tom Cruise from Risky Business. I claimed it. Be creative.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He paused his footsteps. “Wait, you’re actually going to come? And you’re going to dress up?”
“Didn’t you just invite me, and isn’t it a costume party?”
“Yeah, but I mean, you’re kind of, you know…anti-social.”
“I show up to the hangouts all the time.”
“I mean, you’re there, but not really there. Plus, the bigger the crowd, the less likely it would be that you’d show.”
