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“
Sorry, I’m just nervous.”

“
Why?”

“
Why?
Are you kidding? For one, this is the first time I’ve been in a car with a boy. And two, I still have no idea why you’re being so nice to me.” Why did I tell him
that?

“
Really? You’ve never been in a car with a boy before?”

My face grows hot and I decide to ignore his question rather than officially acknowledge how lame I really am.

The cars in front of us move and we inch forward.”I’ve already told you why I’m helping you.”

“
Yeah, I know. Community service.” But there has to be more. I might be somewhat delusional, but Evan has some type of interest in me and it has nothing to do with tutoring.

I look out the window, toward the front entrance of the school. Sarah and her friends stand on the sidewalk outside the door. Her mouth gapes as we drive by. The blood rushes to my toes and leaves me lightheaded, but I force myself to smile. Somehow, I resist the urge to wave.

“
You do know that Sarah doesn’t approve of your interest in my
academic success
, don’t you?”

Evan laughs. “There’s an interesting way to put it.” He swivels his head to look in her direction. “Yeah, she’s made her feelings clear.”

“
Yet you’re doing it anyway.”

His eyes narrow as his tone turns cold. “Sarah Chapman doesn’t own me.”

“
You also know defying her is social suicide.”

“I’m not sure who made her social dictator of the school. Maybe it’s time someone stands up to her.”

I lean into the car door to study him through narrowed eyes. “I can’t believe you’re saying that. Especially the way she hangs on you like she’s your pet poodle.”

He inhales with a scowl. “Yeah, about that…”

“
Look, what you and Sarah do is your business.”

He reaches the exit of the parking lot, turning right as the safety guard waves us through. “It’s complicated.”

“
As I said—”

“
Let’s talk about something else.”

Why did I bring up Sarah?

The mailboxes fly by my side window and it is several blocks before I realize he’s driving toward my house. I haven’t given him directions.

“
How do you know where I live?” I don’t try to hide my suspicion.

He looks startled as his eyebrows raise “Uh…”

I groan at my stupidity. “Because of Monica, of course. I’m sorry.” After she died, students brought flowers and stuffed animals to put in her front yard. Evan had probably been one of them.

His eyebrows furrow. “Yeah… Monica.” He clears his throat and his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “You said the accident was your fault because the police said it was. Don’t you know?”

I shift in my seat. I’ve never talked to anyone about the accident other than my mother and my nerves tingle with anxiety. “I don’t remember what happened.”

He turns to me, his raised eyebrows showing his surprise.

“Monica and I left the school picnic and were headed to my sister’s birthday party. She’s had it at the playground area outside of town ever since she was three years old. I remember rounding the curve in the road, the one past the old stone church, and my head got kind of fuzzy. I don’t remember anything about the crash. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “You weren’t meeting anyone?” His voice quivers.

I narrow my eyes in confusion. “My family at my sister’s party. Which I ruined, needless to say.”

We drive the rest of the way in awkward silence. He pulls next to the curb in front of my house and shifts the car into park. He turns to me and his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. “I feel like I should walk you to the door.”

“
Why, Evan Whittaker, you just might be a gentleman.”

He laughs. “I already told you I was.”

I reach for the door handle.

“
Hey, Julia.” He shifts in his seat.

I freeze, my hand on the lever.

“
What are you doing this weekend?”

Sure I’ve heard him wrong, I hesitate, worrying my response will make me look like an idiot. “Um… I’m studying this weekend.” Gaining some confidence, I lift my chin and grin. “I’ve got a lot of trigonometry to make up.”

“
I was thinking, maybe…” He lifts a hand to the steering wheel then takes a deep breath as he stares into my eyes. “I thought maybe I could come over and help you.”

His topaz eyes hold mine. My peripheral vision fades away and it’s as though I’m at the bottom of a well. The only thing I can see is his face.

Surely, he didn’t just ask to come over to my house.

He misinterprets my hesitation. “Or… we could meet at the library if you’d rather do that.”

The thought of explaining his presence to my parents is a hurdle I don’t feel like vaulting. “I’ll be at the library tomorrow afternoon. It would be great if you showed up …that is, if I need help.”
Could I look like a bigger fool?
“But if something else comes up and you can’t make it you don’t have to worry…”

A smile lights up his face and I’m melting. I bask in the warmth until it occurs to me that I’m sitting outside my house in Evan’s car. Anna will be home soon and find me here. I open the door, the cold air whistling through the crack.

“
I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice is soft.

Smiling, I climb out of the car and stand in the yard, watching him drive away. My heart feels lighter for the first time in months.

Chapter Six

In spite of last night’s questionable results, I sit with my family at dinner. We eat pizza while everyone discusses their plans. Mom and Dad are going to see a movie with friends even though they are barely speaking to each other, my father answering Mom’s questions with grunts. Anna has been invited to a sleepover. As usual, I’m doing nothing.

Mom makes a stab at conversation again, but our responses are stilted. Dad refuses to look at me and Anna watches as though my head will spin at any second.

As soon as we finish, they disappear, leaving me alone. My room suddenly feels suffocating, so I flop on the sofa in the living room and spend the next hour flipping through channels.

The phone rings and I jump. A cordless unit lays on the table next to me and I consider letting the answering machine get it until the name on caller ID pops up.

Evan
.

Before I can chicken out, or even think of what to say, my thumb pushes the talk button. “Hello.”

After a half second of silence, he says, “Julia?”

“
Yeah.”

“
This is Evan.”

A crowd cheers in the background. “Where are you?”

“
The football game.”

I can’t imagine why he’d be calling me, let alone from the game. “So you really aren’t playing?”

“
No.”

My curiosity is piqued, but I stop myself from asking why not. “What’s up?”

“
I thought I’d call and see if you were having any problems with your trig homework.”

I laugh. “Do you get to count this in your community service hours?”

“
Nah, this is a freebie.”

The crowd breaks into even louder cheering. “What’s going on there?”

“
I think we just got a touchdown.”

“
You
think?
Aren’t you supposed to know?”

“
I suppose, but something more interesting caught my attention.”

My cheeks flush making me thankful no one’s around to see.

“
So, do you need any help?”

“
Actually, no. I’m not doing homework. I’m trying to find something to watch on TV.”

“
Ah, a procrastinator, huh?” He laughs. “Maybe next week you should come to the game.”

I hold my breath then release it. He didn’t ask me to go with him, just suggested I go. “Yeah, I’m not really a football kind of girl.”

“
No? What kind of girl are you then?”

That’s a good question. Even though I feel myself becoming more normal, I don’t think I’ll ever be the person I was before. “Not a football game-goer.”

“
Okay, what else?”

“
Don’t you have a game to watch?”

“
Not until you tell me two more things. What’s the first thing that pops into your head when you think about yourself?”

“
This is stupid.”

“
No, it’s not. It’s proven psychology. Besides, I’m not hanging up until you do.”

I roll my eyes even if he can’t see it. I don’t really want him to hang up, but I’m out of my element here. “Okay.”

“
Good, now don’t think about it. Just blurt out the first thing that pops into your head. One word that describes you. Go.”

“
Artistic.” Where did that come from? Does drawing elaborate curlicues make me artistic?

“
See? That wasn’t so hard. Okay one more. One word to describe you. Go.”

I clear my mind. “Sad.”
Oh, crap. Why did I say that?

His end is silent except for the muffled cheers, which have become fainter. I’ve gone too far and scared him.

After a couple seconds, he speaks. “I know.” His words are soft. “We’re going to fix that. Good night, Julia.”

Staring at the TV with the silent phone to my ear, I’m sure I’ve just hallucinated a phone conversation.

I settle on a show about picking wedding dresses, not that I have any desire to buy one. Watching people who are happy lets me pretend that happiness is possible for me too. I try to remember the last time I was happy and come up with nothing. Maybe it’s not a matter of whether I was happy or unhappy. Maybe it’s something more primal. Before, I existed. Now, I survive.

I leave a note on the fridge asking to go to the library tomorrow afternoon then climb into bed and snuggle under the blankets. My mind drifts to Evan, wondering if I’m imaging things that aren’t there.

I dream of him. We sit in a car, but it’s not his. This one is brown and more compact. He’s upset and I’m drowning in guilt.

“
Jules, please don’t do this.”

“
I’m sorry, Evan, but I have to.” My heart feels shredded and raw as I climb out of his car and into the driver’s seat of another I don’t recognize.

Monica sits in the passenger seat and glares. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You need to think about someone else for once.”

I’m startled at the sight of Monica and her mean tone. I partially wake up, feeling uneasy. Sweet Monica would never talk to anyone like that, especially me. Rolling over, I burrow into my pillow before my dreams resume with my usual snatches of the accident. At the end of the dream, when the familiar feeling of nothingness slips in, I sit upright in bed. Beads of sweat dot the back of my neck.

Sleep remains elusive for the next hour as I struggle with my dreams. I understand the accident. It’s my way of dealing with my guilt, replacing me with Monica. But I don’t understand my dream about Evan.

Dreams aren’t supposed to make sense. They’re just dreams.

I can’t help trying to attach meaning to them anyway. They feel so real, like forgotten memories.

The next day I sleep late and find Mom in the bathroom, sitting on the side of the tub, scrubbing the tile.

“
I got your note about the library. I can take you when I’m done here. Besides, I have to take your dad’s laptop into the shop. It hasn’t been the same since all the electronics on this side of town acted weird last week. Who knew sunspots could cause so much damage?” She looks over her shoulder. “When do you want me to pick you up?”

“
I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on how long it takes to catch up on my trig homework.”

She stops scrubbing, her hand still on the tile. “I’m proud of you for making so much of an effort lately.” Blowing a loose stand of hair out of her face, she gives me a smile. “I want you to know how happy it makes me.”

“
Thanks.” Shame burns my gut, embarrassed it takes so little effort to make her happy. I feel selfish and useless. “Want me to clean the toilet?”

She’s taken by surprise. “Good heavens, no. I’m almost done.”

I hang in the doorway, hesitating. Cleaning the bathroom used to be my job. Now nothing is expected of me.

A few minutes before noon, Mom and I pull up to the front of the library. “How do you plan to call me when you’re done?”

“
I guess I’ll find a pay phone or ask the librarian if I can use theirs.” I start to get out of the car.

Mom touches on my arm. “Julia, wait.” She digs in her purse and pulls out a cell phone then hands it to me. “Your old phone was lost in the accident, but we got you a new one and I’ve been holding onto it. If you’re going to start… doing things again, I’d feel better knowing I can reach you.”

A lump lodges in my throat. It’s just a stupid cell phone. “Thanks, Mom.”

She rubs my arm. “I love you.”

Blinking back tears, I say over my shoulder, “I love you, too.”

The library is crowded when I enter, but I find an empty table close to the windows. The library overlooks a wooded area. The thinning leaves are lit up in brilliant oranges, reds and yellows.

Trig seems the best place to start since I’m so far behind. The fact Evan might show up to help me is an added incentive. I make it through one assignment and halfway through another when he slides into the chair next to me.

“
Started without me, I see.”

A smile spreads across my face. “Well, I had some work to catch up on after watching all those Lifetime movies last night.”

He looks confused. “Lifetime?”

I roll my eyes. “I know you’re a guy but most guys have heard of Lifetime. And for the record, I didn’t really.”

“Really what?

“
Watch Lifetime. I’m not a Lifetime kind of girl.” Our conversation from last night rushes into my memory. Maybe the key to figuring out who I am is to not think about it too much.

“
So what did you end up watching?”

“
A wedding dress show.”

He laughs and tosses his backpack on the table. “All right then, don’t tell me. How far have you gotten?”

“
I’m on the second assignment. Twenty more to go.”

He pulls his textbook out of his backpack and stops to stare out the window. “The colors are so… amazing.”

I glance up. “Oh, the trees. Yeah, I guess so.”

I expect him to start working, but he remains frozen. “Are they always this beautiful?” He asks, his eyes wide in awe.

“
The trees? They’re the same trees every year."

“
They’re like this every year?” Disbelief drenches his words.

"You act like you’ve never seen fall leaves before."

He snaps out of his daze and smiles, but it looks forced. "Of course, I’ve seen leaves before. I just haven’t seen them here."

"They’re the same everywhere. Besides, are you telling me you don’t ever come to the library?"

His mouth lifts into a mischievous grin. “Nah, I’m not a library kind of guy.”

“
Could have fooled me. You seem to be spending a lot of time in them lately. So what kind of guy are you?”

He half-shrugs. “I don’t know, just a guy.”

“
Nope, that’s not good enough.” My playfulness catches me off guard, but I go with it. “Let’s play a game. You say the first word that comes to mind about yourself when I say
go
.”

“
Ok-ay.” He draws the word out as though he’s still undecided.

“
One word about you. Go.”

“
Humble.”

I laugh out loud and library patrons eye us with suspicion. “No, seriously,” I lean my head closer to his and say in a hushed tone. “I answered you last night. It’s only fair you answer me.”

He tries to look serious but smirks. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“
Close your eyes this time. Maybe it’ll help.”

His eyelids sink closed and the right side of his mouth forms a lopsided grin.

“
First word about you. Go.”

“
Driven.”

I smile. His answer is no surprise. “Was that so hard?”

“
Can I open my eyes now?”

“
No, one more.” I’m amazed to be this close to him and take advantage of the opportunity to study his face. His dark eyelashes are striking against his pale skin. A small scar crosses the bridge of his nose and stubble is scattered across his cheeks and chin. My heart skips as I breathe in his scent. He smells like laundry soap and a hint of autumn leaves. He’s extraordinarily beautiful, although I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate the adjective choice. But his attractiveness is a reminder there’s no way he can be interested in someone like me without a reason. Sadness seeps into my heart, but I accept it for what it is. Reality.

He shifts in his seat. I’ve taken too long.

“
Clear your mind of everything. Your mind is completely blank. Now tell me one word about you. Go.”

“
Sad.” His eyelids open. I’ve moved far too close to him, our faces a foot apart. Tears blur his eyes and his mouth lifts into a half smile.

I can’t imagine why Evan is sad. I consider ignoring his response but can’t ignore the dejection on his face. I whisper, “We’re going to fix that.”

My cheeks burn as I wonder what possessed me to say such a thing.

His eyes fill with longing and I think he’s going to kiss me, right here in the library. Instead, he swallows. “I think I forgot my pencil in the car.” He looks out the window. “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.” He stands and disappears before I can offer him my extra.

I worry he’s going to leave, but his half-opened backpack lays on top of the table. Fingering the zipper on his worn, army-green canvas bag, I wonder what made Evan so upset.

My gaze lifts to the trees bursting with fall colors. They’re beautiful this time of year, and although I have to admit the view here is gorgeous, his reaction seems odd, along with his sudden interest in me. There’s no denying it’s more than his compulsion to tutor me.

The chair beside me scrapes the floor and Evan sits, slightly subdued and his face blotchy. He pulls out a notebook and opens to a blank page.

I almost ask if he found his pencil, but we both know that’s not why he left. “Do you have work of your own?” I ask. “Because I don’t need help with this part.”

“
Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of my own homework.”

We spend the next hour working side by side. When I’ve finished three trig assignments and can’t stand any more, I close my textbook. Evan looks up. “Done?”

“
With trig, for now. The math portion of my brain is mush.”

“
Moving onto history?”

McCarthyism and the Cold War isn’t calling out to me. “No, I think I’ll work on English Lit. I have some stories to read.” I study his face. His eyes are soft and his hand slides closer to mine. My heart melts as my guard flies up. I’m not sure I should trust him. “Tell me a story about yourself.”

His shoulders jerk and he sits straighter. “What?”

“
If we’re going to spend time together, tell me something about yourself, other than the obvious.”

“
Obvious?”

“
You know like you’re popular, you play football, and date cheerleaders. Tutoring the social outcast doesn’t fit with your M.O., so tell me something to make me trust you.”

His eyebrows knit in confusion. “M.O.?” He releases a loud breath. “A story, huh? Okay. Hmm…” He taps his pencil as his gaze wanders to the trees then back to me.