Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn't Have) (23 page)

She didn’t answer.

“You did! How could you not have told me? Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I tried to stop you! At the movie theater! But you wanted to do it. You were obsessed with doing it.”

“I was not obsessed. I wanted to have sex with my boyfriend, who I was in love with. And who I thought was in love with me too. I thought you were just being prudish. I thought you just didn’t want me to do it if you weren’t.”

“April, come on.”

“I might kill you,” I snapped.

“You’re not really pissed at me,” she said. “You’re mad at Noah and you’re taking it out on me because I’m sitting here.”

“No, I’m mad at you because you’re a bad friend.”

She flinched. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was just . . .”

“A bad friend?”

“No. Yes.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “And afraid. I was afraid if I told you you’d break up with him—”

“Yeah.”

“—and then you’d move to Ohio.”

Great. Just terrific. Did everyone think I stayed just because of him? “So you tricked me into staying.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. Her shoulders sagged.

“Me too,” I said. “Can you get out now?”

“April—”

“I’m serious. Get out. I need to call Noah.”

“I’m here if you want to talk. And I’m sorry. I love you, you know that. And I swear—I didn’t think it was true. I didn’t think it was possible. Noah’s an ass.”

She got out of the car and gently closed the door behind her.

Instead of waiting for her to get back to her house, like I usually did, I sped off.

THE TRUTH

Five minutes later I was outside Noah’s house. I parked the car and walked over to the park across the street.

I called him and asked him to come outside and meet me. I hung up. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t told me the truth today. How could he lie to me like that? He’d lied during the I Never game too. Never had sex? Please.

Am I the only one who told the truth during I Never?

Noah could have told me. Maybe not then, in front of everyone. But later.

Or before we’d had sex.

I knew he was acting weird. Hadn’t I asked him what was wrong? He could have told me then. I’d given him an opening. A wide, big-assed, we-haven’t-had-sex-yet opening. Jerk. Liar.

I wasn’t facing him, but I heard his shoes on the pebbles behind me.

“Hey,” he said.

I was sitting on the green bench. I didn’t turn around. He walked in front of me.

“I have to tell you something,” he said.

“You think?” I crossed my arms across my chest and then wondered if I should punch him instead.

“I slept with someone else.”

Everything ached. I nodded. “Go on.”

“Over Christmas.”

I wanted to dig myself under the grass, but I tried to stay upright. “And a few hours ago, you lied because . . .”

“Because I was freaked out. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have. I just did.”

“And you slept with someone else because . . .”

He didn’t say anything.

I kicked my foot into the ground. “Say something! I don’t understand! Explain it to me!”

“It just happened,” he said softly.

“That’s such bullshit!” I yelled. My voice carried across the park. “Sex doesn’t just happen. You make it happen.” I thought of the night before with Hudson. It could have happened then. Easily. But we hadn’t let it.

He was quiet for a second and then he said, “I’m an idiot. It was only once. I was drunk.”

“That is not an excuse.”

“I’m not saying it is!” He rushed to say. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

“A little late.”

His cheeks were flushed red. “I know. I should have told you.”

“You should have told me. You should have worn a condom. With her. With me.”

“I know! But I hadn’t planned on it . . . on anything.” He slammed his fist into his palm.

“So did you know this girl well?”

“Yeah, her grandfather lives next door to mine in Florida.”

“So where were you guys? On the beach?”

He looked down at the ground. “You don’t really want to know.”

Now I really wanted to punch him. “Now you’re going to tell me what I do or don’t want to know? You do not have the right to do that. You have no more rights. I want to know the details. Every detail. Go.”

He took another breath. “We were on the beach. And we just . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Hooked up,” I spit the words out.

“Yeah.”

The whole scene was playing in my head and I couldn’t make it stop. I could see his eyes, the way he looked at me just before he kissed me. The way he touched me—he had touched her. This random girl. Why had I asked for details? I didn’t want them. Hadn’t I learned my lesson last time?

I felt sick. Dizzy. Empty. Off-kilter. Drunk. Punched. Raw.

“If you didn’t want to get caught you should have worn a condom. And at least told your slutty friend not to blab to all her friends. Yeah. It’s a small world. And I know all about Lily.”

He winced as I said her name. “I’m sorry, April. Really. I do love you.”

“Save it. I don’t understand,” I said again. “You couldn’t wait? You only had to wait a little longer.”

“It wasn’t about waiting,” he said.

“I thought things were good with us,” I said quietly. “Weren’t they good? Why would you sleep with someone else?”

“They were good. They
are
good.”

My head hurt. “You wouldn’t have slept with her if they were good. That’s not the way it works.”

“I guess . . . I was just freaked out. Your parents were moving. And you decided to stay. Again.”

“So?”

“It was a big deal. And it just . . . I don’t know. Your mom moved to France. You stayed. Your dad moved. You stayed. It was a lot of pressure. On me.”

“Wait, wait, wait. I didn’t do all that for you!” My head was spinning.

“Oh, come on. Why else would you have stayed? When I asked you why you weren’t moving to Ohio you said it was because of me!”

I thought back to our conversation that night in the car. I’d kept repeating how much I loved him because I thought he was upset about us not having sex. But the whole time he was freaked out about how much I supposedly loved him.

I’m all yours,
I’d said.

Oh God.

“I was trying to make you feel good.” I had said what I’d said because I was trying to make him feel needed, to feel loved. “It wasn’t about you.”

It was about everything. School. Him. Marissa. Vi. My life. Moving to Ohio meant saying good-bye to everything and I hadn’t been able to do that.

Leaving Westport was scary. Everyone else had moved away and moved on. But I couldn’t.

“It wasn’t
only
you,” I said. “I think I was afraid to move on.”

As I said it, I realized it was true. Maybe being afraid to leave wasn’t about Noah or Marissa or Vi or school. Maybe it was about everything that had happened over the past few years. Maybe it was about me not wanting anything else to change.

“I thought it was because of us,” he said. “And I wanted you to stay. I wanted to be with you. But it just felt . . . big. Heavy. I felt trapped. If you were choosing me over your family . . . I had to be worth it.”

I looked at him. “So you chose to prove your worthiness by sleeping with someone else?”

“I just freaked out. With Lily there was no bigger meaning. I should have told you before you and I slept together. I kept wanting to tell you. But then things were so good with us and I thought I could just forget it ever happened.”

“If only you hadn’t given me a disease.”

“It was stupid. I don’t know why I did it. Things with us felt complicated and this was just easy.”

“She was easy,” I said, and then wished I could take it back. It wasn’t her fault. It was, obviously, but she’s not the one who owed me anything. She owed me nothing. He’d owed me more. “No, I take that back. It wasn’t her fault. It’s yours.”

“I know it’s my fault. Can you ever forgive me?”

I looked up at him. The guy I had loved. Loved more than anything. He’d freaked out. Felt cornered. Reacted. Could I forgive him? Then nothing would have to change.

His cheeks were bright red. His eyes were wet.

Maybe if he’d told me after it happened. Before we’d had sex. But it was too late. “No,” I said. “I can’t.”

I got off the bench and walked away.

ON THE ROAD

I put the key in the ignition and drove. And turned. And then turned again. I stopped the car in the middle of the street. Where the hell was I supposed to go? My boyfriend was a cheating bastard. My roommate thought I was an idiot and a bitch. My best friend lied to me.

I had nothing here. Nothing left.

How was I going to go back to school? How could I face any of them? Hudson knew about the chlamydia. Corinne probably did too now, after putting together the pieces of what I said. I wished I had moved to Ohio.

Maybe I was wrong all along.

Maybe I should have moved.

Maybe I would be better off in Cleveland.

I stared at the stop sign in front of my car. Yes. Cleveland. That’s what I had to do. Move. Move right now. I didn’t even have to say good-bye to anyone. I’d just go. I’d fly back with my dad tomorrow. I could start school there on Monday. Who needed Westport? I didn’t.

My heart started to flutter. It wasn’t even
that
crazy. Most of my classes were AP classes. They’d be easy to transfer.

I took out my cell. “Dad,” I said. “Daddy, I have to talk to you. It’s important. Where are you?” At least someone will be happy with what I have to say. He’ll want me. I’m wanted in Cleveland.

“Hi, Princess! I just dropped Penny off at the salon. I’m going to do some Westport errands before picking her up and driving back to the city.”

“Dad. Listen. I changed my mind. I want to move to Cleveland.”

He laughed. “What?”

“I want to come. Now. Tomorrow. I don’t want to be in Westport anymore.”

I waited for the joy. “April. You’re almost done with the year.”

What? That wasn’t joy. “I know. And I want to finish the year in Cleveland.” My voice felt strange.

“But you’re so happy at Suzanne’s! I don’t understand.”

“I’m not happy at Suzanne’s,” I said. “I’m not. I want to leave. I need to leave.”

“Come on. You can’t move
now
.”

“Why not?”

“It’s the middle of the semester!”

“But you wanted me to move in the middle of the year a few months ago!”

“January is not the same thing as April. You only have two and a half more months of school.”

What was his problem?

“Look, Princess, this is a big decision. Why don’t you sleep on it? I bet you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

My head started to spin. Why did my dad sound like he didn’t want me? I gripped the phone tighter.

Because he didn’t want me.

He was happy with his new life. Just him and Penny. No sullen teenager to ruin the mood, or share a wall with. He finally had a clean slate.

And I spent the last three months trying to stop him from dragging me to Cleveland . . . when he never would have.

Well, happy birthday to me.

“I don’t understand,” I said, my voice breaking. “I thought you wanted me to come.”

“I do want you to come. Of course I do. But Penny just turned the second bedroom into a studio. She’s painting again, you know.”

I couldn’t move in with them because my stepmom needed her art studio. “Don’t you have three bedrooms?”

“Yes, but the guest bedroom just has the pull-out couch and all our gym equipment. . . .”

“Where’s the canopy bed?” I asked.

“We didn’t have a place for it. So we gave it to Penny’s niece.” My father coughed. “April, we’re getting you your own apartment. That’s what you wanted.”

“I did,” I said. I had wanted it. Hadn’t I? I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew that I didn’t want to feel like this.

Abandoned.

Dirty.

Unwanted.

Left behind.

Like everyone had their own lives—lives that didn’t include me.

“So you don’t want me to move to Cleveland,” I said.

“Of course we want you to,” he said. “But right now . . . it’s just not practical.”

My cheeks were wet. I didn’t want him to be practical. I wanted him to say he wanted me with him. I wanted him to say he couldn’t live without me. But I knew he wouldn’t. He could live without me. He could live without my mom. My brother. Me. Everyone could live without me.

“If you still want to live with us after the school year we’ll figure it out.”

Honk!

“Uh-huh,” I said, choking on my tears.

“Maybe we can get Penny a separate studio. Or we’ve been thinking about renovating the basement.”

Honk, honk, honk!

“I have to go.” I hung up and hit the gas. I didn’t know where to, but I had to get away from here.

HOME, AGAIN

The key was still under the mat. Was it considered breaking and entering if I used a key? Also, if no one was living there? I had driven around until almost seven and then somehow ended up here. The
FOR SALE
sign was still displayed on the front lawn.

So what if I had nowhere else to go? I was going to live right here. The one place I felt right. 32 Oakbrook Road. I turned the key in the door and opened it. “Hello?” I said, just in case. My voice echoed through the house. No one answered. The den looked smaller than I remembered it. Once upon a time the four of us had sat here on a green couch covered in stitched white circles and watched TV. Now the room was empty.

The walls were a pale yellow. Had they always been yellow? I didn’t think so. I couldn’t remember. I went upstairs to my room. My empty room. My cherry wallpaper was gone. My bed was gone. My carpet had been replaced. But it was still my room, damn it.

I sat down on the floor, and leaned my head against my wall and looked out my window.

My cell rang. I glanced at the caller ID.

My mother. Fantastic.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear April—”

“Mom. Just stop.”

“Why? What’s wrong? It’s your birthday!”