My Bittersweet Summer (28 page)

He stopped on the sidewalk in front of a closed bookstore. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Margie. That’s not—”

I frowned at him. “Why are you interrupting me? I wasn’t finished.”

He leaned up against the window and sighed, staring at the sidewalk. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

Stepping in front of him, I angled my head to catch his eye, hoping he’d stop looking so dejected before I even said anything. “I just want to know that you realize I’m leaving. All of this…” I waved at the street. “The tickets, the list, showing up here, all of that… Why are you going to so much effort for someone who’s leaving the country in less than two weeks?”

At last, he met my gaze, his eyebrows pinched together. “Because…”

I tilted my head, waiting for his answer.

He blew out a loud breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Because I don’t care if it’s for two days, two weeks, or two decades, Margie. Do you have any idea what it’s like to spend every day since you were six thinking about the same person and know with absolute certainty they hate you, but you don’t have any idea how to fix it? I had to try, Margie. I couldn’t let my second chance—”

I put my hand against his mouth, needing him to stop talking so I could digest his words. “Whoa. What? What are you talking about? Six? I don’t—”

His fingers wrapped around mine, and he pulled my hand against his chest, resting above his heart. “You get tackled into the mud by a girl, when no one else in the world says no to you, and it tends to stick with you.”

My head spun. I’d gotten grounded from everything for a month after that. And afterwards, every day since then…

“I don’t… I don’t understand this. All that time, and you never did anything to stand up for me, or, if I’m being honest, treat me like a human being. Do you actually expect me to believe that—”

“I told you, I didn’t know how else to be. Look at the examples I had, Margie. As a kid, I thought that’s how the world was, how everyone was. I hated every second of it, but there wasn’t anyone I could talk to about it. And every time they started in on you, I hated myself a little more. It wasn’t until Chad…”

Frustrated, he stepped away from the window and pulled me along down the sidewalk again. Still stunned, my feet moved by themselves, my brain completely running on autopilot.

“We were all out drinking on the beach that night,” Zach said, leading me across the street. “Chad had this girl with him. Lisa. He told me a week before that he was worried about it. He really liked Lisa, even though he was seeing Megan Gibbons, but he was freaking out how people were going to react if he broke up with the girlfriend he was ‘supposed’ to have for a girl who was… you know, not from a rich family. I was the one that talked him into bringing Lisa that night. I figured the other guys would back him up, like friends are supposed to do. And I thought if they did that for him…”

We stopped to wait for the crosswalk signal, and I finally found my words. “I’m guessing that didn’t happen?”

Zach shook his head. “Matt lit him up five ways from Sunday, and then tore into Lisa. Mind you, this was after about three hours of drinking. Everyone was wasted, but when those two started fighting… Well, Chad refused to listen to another word I said after I’d assured him it would be okay. They took off and made it about a mile down the road before Chad ran a light and got creamed by a truck. He wasn’t even going to be there that night until I talked him into it. I didn’t know…”

When his grip faltered and his eyes turned away, an ache bloomed in my chest. As the walk signal lit up, I wove our fingers together and pulled him through the intersection, continuing our meandering journey. While I wasn’t sure how I felt about his confession, to know the kind of guilt he was walking around with every day, I needed to say something. The tiniest little playground came into view, and it looked like a good a place as any to talk for a few minutes.

We sat down on a bench just inside the wrought iron fence, left open despite the sign saying it was closed after dark, but I didn’t let go of his hand.

“I’m not going to pretend like I have any idea what to say, but thank you for telling me.”

He shrugged, his thumb softly running along the edge of my hand. “It hit all of us pretty hard. Matt went downhill fast after that. I’ve sort of been distancing myself from all of them for a while, to be honest. I knew the only way I’d ever get a shot at being someone better is if I wasn’t around them anymore, but I just couldn’t work up the nerve to do it. Well, I couldn’t… not until I lost you the second time.”

After sniffling my way through
Les Mis
, I didn’t think I had any tears left, but damned if they didn’t creep up on me again. Our joined hands blurred together in my watery vision as I struggled to find any shred of anger towards him. I couldn’t, though. I tried. I tried to remember how I felt as a kid. I tried to remember how mad and disappointed I was on the beach. I tried to call up any and every memory of him saying something harsh…

I stopped when it hit me. In all of those cases, all of the times I’d been tortured when I was younger, from the time I’d knocked him down, not once had anything hateful come out of his mouth. True, he’d stood there doing nothing while others did their worst, but I knew what it probably meant to be Matt’s friend on top of the normal peer pressures kids have.

It was never Zach.

All of those times, when I thought of him as nothing more than a bully, none of that had come from him.

None of it.

“You know that I can’t promise you anything,” I said quietly.

“I know.”

“What, exactly…” Really, what could I say here? “I don’t know what you’re looking for.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a gentle smile. “I’m not looking for anything, Mighty Mouse. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I already found it.” When his eyes met mine, there was no need to count my breathing. The air stuck in my lungs, trapped by everything I saw in his gaze.

“Maybe it’s only for these few minutes, or maybe a few days, but as long as you’ll let me, I’ll be with you.”

It was stupid, and I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Seeing him, really seeing Zach and who he was, possibly for the first time ever, there was magic in that.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ve decided.”

His forehead bunched, a deep line running down the center of it. “Decided what?”

I reached up, brushing my fingers across the wrinkle in his skin. “You asked me before, and I said I wasn’t sure if I liked you.”

“So…”

Rather than answer, I leaned forward, my gaze trained on his. “I’d say you’ve got a one hundred percent chance.”

His hands cupped my face, holding me with such tenderness I had to close my eyes to keep the tears from slipping down my cheeks. His lips pressed against mine, and I knew, undoubtedly, that he’d meant every word he said, maybe more than anything he’d ever said to anyone else his entire life. There were no fanfares, no explosions, only him, and me, and that moment.

The moment I dropped my guard.

The moment I forgave him.

The moment our “I’s” became a “we.”

Even if it was only for that moment, it made everything that summer worth it.

And the rest? Well, that was for a different moment.

I stared out at the runway, watching the plane taxi up to the gate. Even though I’d said goodbye to everyone a different airport ago and a flight to Baltimore in between, it still hadn’t sunk in.

In less than half a day, I’d be walking the streets of Paris.

My last weeks on Carrinaw Island felt like a strange dream. I’d come back from New York City and I was suddenly Zach’s girlfriend. We spent all of our free time together watching movies, or having coffee, or hanging out at the beach, or running errands, or anything else we could possibly do together. I honestly couldn’t remember a time in my life when I’d felt so happy. I hadn’t even taken a migraine pill since before my trip, and I had more fingers than instances of counting my inhale/exhale pattern.
 

Being with Zach was weirdly easy, but maybe it was because we knew we only had a tiny amount of time to fit as much fun in as we could. Every second, even the silent ones, was filled with a simple peace I’d never had before. I took every opportunity I could to tell him something about me, and he shared his secrets with me in return. He, however, took every opportunity to kiss me. It was only fair that I showed him the same courtesy in kind. Neither of us saw any problem with the arrangement.

For twelve wonderful days, I got moment after moment of new Zach memories. And one by one, I found they were replacing the older, uglier ones. He wasn’t at all how I thought he’d be. Not once did he pressure me for anything everyone warned me he’d expect. It was a beautiful, but bittersweet way to end my last summer in the States, yet it wasn’t until Baltimore that it really hit me.

It was entirely possible I’d never see him again.

“Paging passenger Margaret Walsh. Margaret Walsh, please report to the desk at gate E4.”

The announcement jarred me out of my haze, and I straightened up in my seat, not sure if I’d heard them right. A quick glance at the message board behind the counter verified it, however, and I shouldered my backpack, approaching the counter with a very confused look.

“Um, I’m Margaret Walsh. Is there a problem?”

The attendant looked up at me from her computer, her hair coiffed into a perfect French twist beneath her navy blue cap. “No, there’s no problem. May I see your boarding pass, please?”

I slid the paper across the counter, worried I was about to get booted from the flight. Her fingers flew across the keyboard with an abnormally loud
clickety clack
, which was followed by the buzz of a printer behind the desk. A minute later, she handed me a new boarding pass.

“There was a slight overbooking in coach, so we’ve upgraded your ticket. You’ll see your new seat assignment is in first class, so make sure you find the right one when you board.”

My jaw flopped open. “First class?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she smiled and turned away, her radio squawking to life with news the plane was ready to unload. “Have a pleasant flight.”

I’d never flown first class before. What weird twist of fate had made that possible?

It was more than a little awkward to board the plane with a bunch of people in nice business suits, but none of them gave me any haughty looks or anything. Most of them were too buried in their phones to pay any attention to a girl that clearly didn’t belong there. My awesome new seat was even by a window, so I wasn’t about to complain. I settled in and scrolled through my phone, sending off some last text messages and social media posts about leaving while the rest of the plane filled up. Checking the time, we were about ten minutes from pulling away, but the seat next to me was still empty. Maybe I’d caught an even bigger break and could stretch out the whole way there.

“And this is you,” the stewardess said as I stared out the window. “Have a nice flight, sir.”

“Thanks, I’m just glad I made it. Almost didn’t.”

I jerked in my chair and whipped around at the sound of his voice. Zach didn’t even acknowledge me at first, busying himself with stuffing his carryon into the overhead bin and a backpack under his seat while I gaped at him.

He fastened his seatbelt, grinning to himself.

“What are you… How are… Did you upgrade my ticket?” I tried to get three questions out at once, but the third one was all I managed to finish.

“Oh, that’s right.” He reached back under his seat again and rummaged through his backpack, coming up with a square, wrapped box. “I did. I forgot to give you your going away present.”

He set the yellow wrapped package in my lap, his smug smile unwavering.

Nothing made any sense. “You boarded a plane to Paris just to give me a present?”

He chuckled. “My, you do think highly of yourself. Of course not. I’ve had my ticket since March. I just upgraded yours to give you your present.” He leaned against the armrest, incredibly pleased with himself. “And maybe to ensure I had a beautiful woman to sit next to the whole way across the Atlantic.” His expression faded a little. “Wait… Are you not excited about this?”

I rubbed my forehead, confused. “I… no, it’s not that. I just… Why are you going to Paris? And why did you never mention this before?”

He sat back in his chair and considered it. “It’s funny, you know. Over the course of the entire summer, you never once asked me where I was going to school in the fall. For someone that made a seriously concerted effort to learn every little thing about me the last few weeks, that’s a little disappointing.”

“How is this my fault?” I said, stupefied. “Of course I would assume you were going to some Ivy League school or something. Are you seriously telling me you’re going to AUP?”

“
Bien sûr. Je ne aurais jamais vous mentir.
”

I smacked his arm. “A lie of omission is still a lie, jackass.”

He burst out laughing. “Why do you always get mad when I do nice things for you? I thought you’d be ecstatic. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you?”

“What about all that crap about just enjoying what time we had together? I spent I don’t know how many hours trying not to count how few days we had left. That’s a horrible thing to do to a person.” I crossed my arms and scowled at the seat in front of me.

Some of his amusement ebbed away, his voice quiet. “You were counting?”

“I was trying not to.”

His fingers hooked my chin, turning my face back to him. “Why?”

“Why do you think? That’s a dumb question,” I grumbled at him.

“It’s not, Margie.”

My arms dropped to my lap. “Because I have a weak spot for lost causes.”

As his palm rested against my cheek, I pinched my eyes shut, trying not to cry. Was this really happening?

“I might’ve been drunk when I said it, Mighty Mouse, but you know I love you, right?”

I sniffled. I was definitely going to arrive in Paris with puffy eyes and makeup running everywhere. Stupid Zachary Robinson, ruining everything again.