I wanted to say something to him on the drive to the theater—I was curious and anxious to hear where things stood with that girl—but something in me held back. Maybe I didn’t want to know. Maybe I couldn’t bear it in case he’d already beaten me to the punch, or in case things didn’t work out with Lydia.
“Thanks,” Grant told me when he got out of the car.
“I’ll pick you up at nine. Leave your phone on.”
“Yeah,” he said, stepping away already.
I passed the next two hours reading in my room, figuring I’d better start on the school’s summer reading list now that we were inching into July. The novel they’d assigned us was dense and boring, but I knew I could ask JaKory about it later, when I’d gotten over my anger at him. I had always been a slow reader, but tonight I was even slower than usual because I kept stopping to check my phone, hoping Lydia had texted me. Instead I had texts from Maritza and JaKory, exchanging crass thoughts on some celebrity guy they thought was hot, as if our standoff yesterday at Maritza’s had never happened.
Finally I gave up and texted Lydia myself.
I’m so jealous of you starting college. You don’t have to deal with bullshit summer reading anymore.
She wrote back a few minutes later.
Lydia Kaufman aka Jason Waterfalls: Yeah haha I know. What are you reading? Is it that bad? Sorry I haven’t really texted today, I’ve kind of had a bad day
A new, weird feeling came over me then, soft like my stomach had gone all melty but was trying to reach outward at the same time.
Are you okay? Can I do anything?
Lydia Kaufman aka Jason Waterfalls: Thanks Codi, I wish you could. Just a bad day in math class, we got our midterms back and I didn’t do so hot, and we have another test on Wednesday that I have to study for tonight. Sucks
I thought back to the Lydia I’d seen in the woods: the girl who’d been tackled by Samuel and ended up laughing, the troublemaker who orchestrated our prank to steal everyone’s clothes. I remembered what Natalie had told me about Lydia not seeing the good in herself, and I hated to realize that Lydia probably felt like that right now.
I wanted to make her feel better. I wanted to make some grand gesture, something that would surprise her and pull her out of her bad day. I sat there thinking about it, my heart pumping fast, and the answer came to me in a blaze of inspiration. It was perfect, especially because my brother was already at the movies.
I texted Grant with my request, hoping he would see my message before he exited the theater. As I was driving to pick him up, my phone chimed with his response.
Grant: Ok.
* * *
Grant met me at the car with the huge bucket of popcorn under his arm. “Why’d you want this so bad?” he asked, grunting as he slid into the passenger seat.
“I need it for something. Thank you for getting it.”
“It was eight dollars.”
“I’ll pay you back.” I looked around at the people outside the theater. There was no sign of that skinny girl I’d seen him with last month. “Um,” I said, hesitating. “Are you waiting on anyone? Or should we go?”
Grant wouldn’t look at me. “We can go.”
He didn’t ask again about the popcorn, and I didn’t ask about the girl. When we got home and I made no move to get out of the car, Grant turned back to me.
“Aren’t you coming inside?”
“I have to go somewhere real quick.”
“Where?” He narrowed his eyes. “Who’s that popcorn for?”
I couldn’t shut him down, not when he’d been the one to help me buy it, but I didn’t want to tell him the whole truth, either. I debated in my head while he watched me carefully.
“It’s for … someone I’m getting to know,” I told him cautiously. “But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”
My brother frowned, but not like he was mad—more like he was processing. After a beat he nodded and said, “Okay.”
“Can you tell Mom and Dad I’m dropping something off at Maritza’s?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He ambled off to the garage. I considered the popcorn bucket, wondering how to keep it steady now that Grant wouldn’t be there to hold it. The only idea that came to me was to buckle it up like a baby, so that’s what I