Past Perfect (27 page)

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Authors: Leila Sales

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #General, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Friendship, #Adolescence, #Mystery & Detective, #Traditional British

BOOK: Past Perfect
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“No,” I said to Ezra. “Thank you. But no.” His face twisted. “Is this because of your Civil War
boyfriend
?

I didn’t realize you were still with that farb.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” I snapped, “but I’m not.

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We stopped seeing each other after you told Tawny everything about his dad. So, you know, thanks for ruining that, too.”

“I told Tawny all of that to
help
you,” Ezra protested. “No one was speaking to you. You were miserable. Now everyone at Essex adores you again. I did that for
you
, Chelsea.” And I guessed it was true, that there’s a version of that story in which Ezra told Tawny because he was trying to help me. And then there’s a version of that story in which Ezra told Tawny because he was using me. History is written by the victors, but I could be the victor here. I could believe whichever version of the story that I wanted.

“Either way, I’m not going to thank you,” I said. “Dan might never take me back after what I did to him and his family.

But that’s not what matters here. Even if he never speaks to me again, I would rather be alone than be with you.” Ezra just blinked at me, like he didn’t understand.

“Why now?” I asked. “Why have you decided that you want to get back together
now
? After all these months, you were just like, ‘Oh, hey, it’s August seventh, how about I take Chelsea back’? Wait—is it actually August seventh?” I double-checked the date on my phone. It was.

Goddamn, that Fiona Warren was a genius.

Ezra looked confused and a little annoyed, like he hadn’t expected to be put through all this rigmarole just to win me back. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I’ve been waiting to ask you out for a while, but I was with Maggie, and you
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were with what’s-his-name, and you seemed so mad at me all the time . . . But then tonight you showed up looking so pretty, so I just . . . did it.”

Although this wasn’t a good answer, I believed that it was true: he probably
didn’t
know why he wanted to win me back now. That wasn’t how Ezra’s mind worked. He felt that he wanted to date me again, so, boom, he asked me out. Just like when he felt that he didn’t want to be with me, he just stopped talking to me.

Maybe it was because he and Maggie were falling apart, and he wanted reassurance that some other girl out there was still crazy about him. Maybe when he found out I was seeing someone else, it made him jealous, and it made him realize that I must have something to offer if another guy wanted me. Maybe he was impressed by how far I was willing to go to help Essex in the War, and that made him fall in love with me all over again. Maybe he had been carrying a torch for me ever since breaking up with me, and all he had thought about every minute since then was how to win back my heart.

Maybe anything.

“Ezra,” I said, not wanting to be cruel, but just wanting him to
know
, “you broke my heart. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. And when I slept, I couldn’t wake up in the morning because that’s how much I couldn’t face the day.”

I’d expected Ezra to be at least a little horrified or apolo-277

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getic about this, but, once again, I had expected too much from him. However little I expected from him, he always managed to give me less.

“A person is allowed to break up with his girlfriend,” he said. “It wasn’t like we were
married
, okay? We went out for a few months, and then we stopped going out, and sometime thereafter, I started going out with someone else. This happens to people all the time. You can’t hold it against me that
you
couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t my fault that you cried and stopped eating and all that stuff you said.”

“But I didn’t feel that way only after you broke up with me,” I told him. “That was how I felt for ages before you broke up with me too, because that’s what it was like to date you.

That’s how you made me feel. When I was with you, when you were my
boyfriend
, I worried about every step I took, because I might step wrong. I felt like I always had to be the most interesting girl in the world for you, or else you would immediately get bored of me. I never stopped being nervous around you, not in all the time we were together.” His expression was concerned, and he tried to grab hold of my arm. “It wouldn’t be like that this time, Chelsea. I promise.” I wanted to believe him, but there wasn’t anything believable about this. “You can’t make any of that un-happen,” I said. “Us getting back together wouldn’t un-break my heart.

“You talk about driving to DC, but you know what really happened that day? What really happened is that we drove
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there and listened to good music and ate banana muffins and kissed at stoplights and had an amazing time. All those good things
were
true, but they
weren’t
enough. Because then what really happened is that we got lost on the drive home, and you blamed me because I was the one navigating, and we drove for hours, and we had to refill the gas tank, and we argued over whose fault it was that we used up so much gas and who should have to pay for it. What really happened is that I apologized for the first hour and a half of the drive, and then once we knew we were on the right road, I just started crying, and you just let me. Do you remember now?

Are you remembering? That’s what
really
happened, Ezra.”

“None of that was my fault!” Ezra was looking seriously aggrieved now.

“None of it was my fault, either.
We were bad for each other.

That wasn’t anybody’s fault.”

I stopped talking. He didn’t have anything to say, either.

We just kept staring each other straight in the eyes, only inches apart. The cicadas kept humming, the moon kept shining, the tall tree branches kept rustling in the breeze. It could have been the most romantic moment. But it wasn’t.

“So, yes, Ezra, I do miss you,” I said softly. “But no, I don’t want you back.”

We walked back to Maggie’s party, next to each other, but not together. When we got there, it was more or less the same party we had left. The drinking games were in full swing. The
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milliner girls were outside again. Ezra squared his shoulders and beelined over to Maggie. Patience and Anne moved a few feet away so that they could listen in while Maggie and Ezra talked about whatever they needed to talk about.

Fiona didn’t even look up when we came out of the woods.

She was sitting in Nat’s lap on a lounge chair, her arms wrapped around his neck, deep in conversation. I didn’t bother them.

Despite Maggie’s insistence that everyone wear a swimsuit, the pool was empty. I stripped down to my bikini and dove in alone. The water stung me with its coldness, and my chest felt tight. But that was okay, I could live with that. I swam along the bottom of the pool with my eyes wide open and, in the moment before I came up, gasping for air, I felt clean.

280

Chapter 21
THE BEGINNING

T
roops, it has been an amazing summer. A truly amazing summer. I cannot begin to express how proud of you I am, how honored I have felt to be the General of such a kick-ass army.”

This was Tawny speaking, of course, addressing the rest of us from atop her rock. Such words could come from no one but Tawny Nelson.

“Our accomplishments have been extraordinary! Our inge-nuity and tenacity have no rival! Whenever they hit us, we hit back harder!”

Cheers all around.

“It is my sincerest regret for this summer to come to an LEILA SALES

end,” Tawny went on. “But time stops for no man. School starts on Tuesday, no matter how much we want the War to go on and on forever.”

I snorted, quietly, so only Fiona could hear. She was sitting next to me, holding Nat’s hand, and she threw me a sympathetic look. If I could wish for anything, it would be that War
not
go on and on forever.

Well, no. If I could wish for anything, it would be for one particular boy, who was too good for me, who I would probably never see again.

“It’s always sad to see the summer end,” Tawny went on,

“but this year is sadder for me than any other. Because, as you all know, I’m . . . going to college.” I was stunned to see Tawny blink hard a few times, like she was holding back tears. In the five years I had known her, I had
never
seen Tawny cry. Not from pain, not from sadness, not from joy. She was a
fighting machine
. Two summers ago, the Civil Warriors stole a necklace that had been a gift from Tawny’s godmother before she died from ovarian cancer.

Tawny didn’t even
think
about crying. Instead, she led a raid on Reenactmentland that liberated not only her necklace, but also one of the Civil War’s cannons in the process. Crying was not in Tawny’s repertoire.

Yet here she was, standing on the tip of her rock, her voice wavering with emotion. “This place . . . and you all . . . mean so much to me. I look forward to the War all year round. But
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this is . . . This is it for me. I’m too old to fight anymore.” She sniffled, and I saw a few other girls dabbing at their eyes, too.

“I’m just glad I got to go out with a bang,” Tawny said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

So that’s it, then. Tawny Nelson
does
have real, human feelings. They’re caused by weird things. But they are, none-theless, real. That may have been the biggest surprise of this entire summer.

“As of next week, you will no longer be able to count me among these ranks,” Tawny went on, louder now. “Which means that it’s time to elect a new General. Nominations are now open. Who among you do you want to be your leader?” Bryan’s hand immediately shot up. “I nominate Bryan Denton,” he said. “I think he’s been really dedicated to the War effort for many years now, and this summer, in particular, he has come into his own, especially during the Undercover Operation, which he pulled off masterfully.”

“He’s talking about himself in the third person, right?” I muttered to Fiona. “Is that actually what’s happening here?” She looked pained. “It’s all so unclear.” Nat raised his hand, too—his right hand, the one not holding Fiona’s. “I nominate Chelsea Glaser,” he said.

A smattering of applause.

“This has been a rough season, but Chelsea contributed more than the rest of us combined. The intel she scoped out has put us in a position of power for years to come. Reenact-283

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mentland won’t recover easily from losing their Barnes Prize, and that’s all thanks to Chelsea. She’s shown herself willing to take unpopular stances, if it’s for the overall benefit of Essex. And from serving as Lieutenant to Tawny’s General, she already has experience leading our troops. So that’s my vote, and I hope it’s yours, as well. Chelsea Glaser for General!” Nearly everyone, even Tawny, burst into applause. I didn’t do or say anything for a minute. I was flattered, of course, just as I’d been flattered two months ago, when they’d asked me to be Lieutenant. But being flattered wasn’t reason enough.

And Nat’s understanding of what I’d done for the War this summer, and why I’d done it, was just so far from my reality, it was hard even to believe that he was talking about me.

Some people started chanting my name—“Chel-sea! Chelsea!”—and it was like that first War meeting of the summer all over again. Only this time, it wasn’t going to end with Dan kidnapping me, because I hadn’t heard from him since the evening he showed up at my house and told me I was a bad person. I had called and texted him countless times since, trying to explain, begging him to forgive me. But for all the response I got, I might as well have been apologizing to myself.

So this meeting wasn’t going to end with Dan showing up.

But it wasn’t going to end with me becoming General, either.

That was one thing I could control.

I stood up before the cheering got too out of hand and said, “Essex!”

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Everyone quieted down right away.

“Essex, I appreciate your confidence in me. But I’m going to have to say no. No, I don’t want it.” Silence. Confused looks from my compatriots.

“I don’t want to be always at war,” I explained. “That’s not me. And whatever I’ve done for our War efforts this summer, I promise you, most of it was unintentional. What I really want is to be at peace.”

Still more confusion. If there’s one thing drama kids don’t really want, it’s to be at peace.

I figured,
Oh, what the hell
, and continued, “But there is someone among our ranks who would rise to fill the role of General. Someone who is more dedicated to the cause of Essex than I am. Someone who will never let you down. I think we all know who that someone is.” Nope. Everyone was coming up blank.

“Bryan Denton,” I said. “For next summer’s General, I’m endorsing Bryan Denton.”

I sat down. There was a moment of silence, then a voice slowly started chanting, “Bry-an, Bry-an.” And it wasn’t even Bryan who started the chant. It was
someone else
. It spread through the rest of the Colonials. Soon everyone was cheering “Bry-an! Bry-an!”, myself loudest of all.

“Bryan, do you accept this honor?” Tawny shouted over the roar of the crowd.

“Yes! Yes!” He shot to his feet and started jumping all over
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the place, nearly landing on Patience. He kept pumping his fists in the air and waggling his head about.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you.” Fiona sighed.

“Nope.” I smiled, at peace. “I for sure could not.”

“Bryan, come on up here!” Tawny hollered.

But before he got the chance, Anne, apparently overcome, darted over to him, whirled him around, and planted a big wet one right on his mouth. He kissed her back valiantly, enthusiastically, his tongue flailing.

All the other Colonials hooted and hollered. “All right, man!” Nat shouted.

Fiona and I just stared at each other. “Anne has a thing for men with power?” Fiona suggested.

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