The Book of Love (8 page)

With seven hours to go, she saw Jason and Jessica in homeroom, desks pulled up next to each other. They were staring down into their notebooks, but under their desks their fingers were intertwined. And Lucy found herself sending out a silent wish that neither of them would ever break the other one’s heart.

T-minus six hours and forty-five minutes, Lucy saw Alex in photo class. He asked for her opinion on a photo he’d taken of the girl he’d cheated with, night swimming in a bikini. “Her ass is a bit overexposed,” Lucy said, once again amazed that she ever dated someone so ridiculous. But was what he’d done to her any worse than what she was about to do?

Four hours went to three went to two went to one. And then the school day was done and there was nothing left to do but call the poor boy and get this over with. She hit
TALK
.

“Lucy!” Colin picked up after a single ring.

“Hey,” Lucy said. She felt her throat starting to close, the words all stuck inside it. She couldn’t continue, but she didn’t have to because suddenly he was doing all the talking.

“I was so, so happy to hear from you this morning,” he said. “I’ve been smiling all day. I was worried I’d scared you off by texting too much and seeming like a stalky weirdo—I’m usually really shy when it comes to girls. . . .” The words tumbled out in a jumble like he’d been rehearsing them. “The thing is, I just really like you, and I feel like we have some kind of weird special connection or something.” He paused for a moment. “I know that sounds crazy, or really stupid.” He continued more slowly. His voice was soft and low and when he wasn’t rushing, actually kind of sexy. Too bad it was entirely wasted on her. Someone else would like him. Lots of other someones would like him. She just needed to set him free. “Especially since we don’t even really know each other. I mean, for all I know,
you
could be the stalky weirdo. Ha! I’m just kidding. Sorry. I make weird jokes when I’m nervous, and I’m really nervous right now. I guess what I’m saying is, I . . .”

This was too much. Lucy had to stop him. “Listen,” she said. “I feel like some ice cream. Do you want to take me out for ice cream?”

“I would absolutely love to,” he said. He sounded thrilled. Lucy cringed. But she knew what she needed to do. And this time, nothing—not his sweet face, nor his kind eyes, nor the ball of guilt swirling in her stomach—was going to stop her.

Twelve

T
hirty minutes later, Lucy sat watching Colin’s back as he walked away. At the door he turned and gave her this sad little wave. Lucy waved back, then reached down for her tear-catcher necklace and squeezed. A tiny saltwater ocean was now trapped inside it.

Thank goodness this was over.

Thirty minutes before, he’d come bounding into Sundaes and Cones like a happy puppy and she still hadn’t had any idea what she was going to say to him or how she was going to do it. He’d sat down in front of her all wide-eyed and smiley and “So did you see the video everyone’s been posting . . . ?” and “Have you heard that new song . . . ?” as though he’d spent the entire afternoon coming up with
conversation topics. And Lucy knew the time for careful planning had passed and she just needed to do it. The words were coming out of her mouth before she fully realized what was happening—“I’m sorry, Colin,” she’d said, “I just can’t do this. The you-and-me thing, I mean. I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I’m really, really, really sorry.”

She didn’t even need Oscar Drops to make it sound sincere because what she said was true. She could not think of many times she’d been sorrier.

Colin was silent for a while after that. He looked down and then finally whispered, “Wow.” A tiny tear quivered in the corner of his eye. “I was not expecting that,” he said. He tried to smile and another tear collected.

Lucy said nothing. She felt a wave of embarrassment on his behalf, knowing it must be killing him to cry in front of her. But then she forced herself to take the final step—she reached out to brush that tear off his cheek. The Empathy Cream she’d smoothed into her palm confirmed the truth of his broken heart.

She quickly unscrewed her tear-catcher necklace and deposited the tiny droplet inside. She felt something then, in her chest, in her heart: an odd spreading coldness like she’d swallowed a too-big lump of ice cream, even though the sundae Colin had insisted on buying lay untouched between them. The coldness faded then, and a rush of energy went through her. She felt her mouth wanting to spread into a smile, and she had to consciously stop it from doing that. Colin looked up at her then.

“I just wish . . .” He stopped and chewed his lip.

And beneath the table Lucy was sticking her left hand in her purse. “What do you wish?”

He hesitated. Then shook his head.

“Make one,” she said. “It might just come true.”

And obedient boy that he was, he
had
made a wish. She saw it light up the star in her palm.

A few minutes after that, he stood and said he was leaving. He gave her a hug. His arms shook as he let her go.

Now Lucy sat alone, watching through the window as Colin walked across the parking lot. There was a group of junior boys sitting at the next table staring at her. She could feel their eyes on her skin. She turned and saw one of them lick his cone in a way Lucy could only imagine was supposed to be seductive.

Lucy ignored them. There was still one little thing left to do—she dropped the golden Wish Star on top of the sundae, scooped it up with her spoon, popped it into her mouth, and crunched down. She closed her eyes and then heard the sweet tones of Colin’s voice as though he was whispering in her ear.

“Lucy seems so sad now,” his voice said. “I just want her to be okay.”

Lucy pressed her lips together. His own heart was freshly broken, but that was what he’d wished for. She was, she realized, nothing like Colin. Not anymore, anyway. Breaking his heart had only been hard before she’d done it. And now that it was over, she barely felt anything at all.

He’d wished for her to be okay.

Well, lucky boy, it looked like his wish had already come true.

Thirteen

W
hen Lucy got home, Olivia’s blue convertible was parked out front with Lucy’s three sisters sitting inside. As soon as they saw her, they started to clap, their applause growing louder and turning to cheers.

Olivia flipped on the stereo, sending loud dance music into the air. Liza shimmied her way out of the car. “Well, little bunny, you’re a full-fledged Heartbreaker.” Liza grabbed Lucy’s hands and twirled her around. “Now you’re
really
one of us.”

Gil pulled Lucy in for a hug. “I promise it was worth it,” she whispered.

“How did you guys know . . . ?” Lucy said slowly.

Gil smiled. “We’re sisters. When one of us breaks a heart, we all gain power, and we all feel it in our own.”

Olivia popped the trunk, then motioned for Lucy to come over. Inside was a pile of sleeping bags, duffels, and a tent. On top of it all was a black leather guitar case. Olivia lifted the lid, and Lucy stared at a guitar, dark wood inlaid with swirls of silver and gold. Lucy ran her hand over the smooth wood, then plucked a string. Even from inside the case she could tell it would sound amazing.

“That’s yours,” Olivia said.

“It is?”

“Think of it as a little congratulations present,” Olivia said. “The first time is never easy.”

“Oh my goodness. Thank you,” Lucy said.

But Olivia just waved her hand. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the guitar you had,” Olivia said, her lips curving into a smirk. “But if you’re going to be playing at the festival, you might want something a little prettier. . . .”

“What?” Lucy’s head was spinning.

“You’re playing at SoundWave,” Liza said. “In the New Voices tent.” She shrugged like it was nothing, but she was fully grinning now. “It’s going to be a lot easier for me to get at Beacon if I meet him as a friend of a fellow performer rather than just some groupie. Not that I’d ever be
just some groupie
, but, y’know . . .”

“You’re serious,” Lucy said. “You’re serious?”

Liza nodded. “You remember Paisley, our DJ friend? He set it up. He knows one of the bookers.”

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it, though,” Gil said. “He just played her the recording he made when you sang at Pete’s that first time. And, of course, she loved it.”

Lucy tried to let the meaning of their words sink in. But for some reason she couldn’t really feel it. Why wasn’t it sinking in? She pictured Colin’s sweet sad face and quickly shut her eyes. She’d had no choice. It was over. There was no point in thinking about it anymore. She forced her eyes open and looked at the smiling faces of her sisters. “This is amazing,” she said. “You guys are amazing.”

“No, Luce,
you
are,” Gil said quietly. “Thank you for doing what you needed to do, even though it was hard.”

“All right,” Liza said. “You’re amazing, we’re amazing, everyone’s amazing. Put your ass in the seat—SoundWave awaits.”

“Now? I need to go in and tell my mom I’ll be gone. . . .” Lucy’s head was spinning. “I forgot it was . . .”

“She’s not home,” Gil said. “But don’t worry—I already took care of it.”

“You did? Did you use . . . ?”

Gil laughed at Lucy’s concerned expression. “No, I didn’t do magic on your mother if that’s what you’re wondering. She passed us on her way out, and I just told her we were going to stay at Olivia’s house for the weekend because a boy dumped her and we needed to cheer her up. She said breakups are really hard and that we were very nice friends. She also said you should call her if you need anything.”

“Okay,” said Lucy. “Wow, great. I’ll just run in and grab my stuff.”

Olivia shook her head. “I think you might need some new stuff to go with that fancy new guitar of yours. We’ll stop on the way.”

And with that, Lucy hopped in, Gil shut the door, Olivia started the car, and Liza cranked the music. They drove off dancing.

Olivia was showing Bastian, the beautiful head stylist, a photo on her phone. “Something like this?” she said. “Maybe?” She swiped to another photo. “What do you think?” Bastian pursed his rosebud lips and furrowed his heavy brow. “Hmmm,” he said. And then he steepled his fingers and closed his eyes like he was deep in meditation despite the pounding dance music.

It was two hours since they’d left Lucy’s house, and this was their ninth stop in a whirlwind shopping extravaganza. They’d already gone to five different stores in a high-end mall, a shop selling handmade leather boots, an amazing vintage store, and a makeup outlet for makeup artists. At each new destination, Lucy barely had time to get her bearings before Olivia, Liza, and Gil marched up to the counter with a very careful selection of completely perfect items, all of which Olivia paid for with bills peeled from a large roll she kept in her tiny purse. The whole thing was kind of overwhelming.

And now there they were at some place called Cream, which looked like a hotel, sounded like a club, and was actually an incredibly expensive salon.

To Lucy’s left, Olivia, Liza, and Gil sat themselves down in identical white leather salon chairs and started chatting with their stylists.

In the mirror, Lucy saw Bastian open his eyes, nod at himself, and then without a single word take a pair of gold
scissors from the pocket of his black leather pants, and begin to snip.

An hour and a half later, four girls stood side by side in front of Cream’s huge gilt-edged mirror. There was Liza, whose streaky mane was now a bit streakier; Gil, whose pixie cut was highlighted with chestnut; Olivia, whose roots had been touched up and whose hair was an inch or two shorter in length; and a mystery girl Lucy had never seen before—some badass rock chick who was apparently supposed to be Lucy.

Badass rock chick Lucy had bright blonde, almost white hair, which had been teased and tousled and highlighted with the thinnest streaks of gold, actual shiny metallic gold as though strands of her hair had been dipped in something precious. She was wearing a charcoal-gray silk bra and a sheer white T-shirt printed with the logo of some obscure band Lucy had never heard of. Liza had borrowed a pair of hair-cutting scissors and chopped the top off, so the newly enormous neck hole kept drooping off the badass girl’s shoulder. She was wearing so many bracelets on each arm, they looked like a cross between jewelry and glittering armor. On the bottom she had on a short dark denim skirt, and a pair of maroon ass-kicker boots. Her eyes were ringed in dark liner. This girl didn’t just look ready to play a single song at a festival, she looked like she was ready to headline the whole damn show.