or are you joking again?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “A little of both, to be honest. I’ve accepted I’m not the miracle. But I don’t know how much I’ve grieved. So I have to say, screaming my feelings out in a parking lot felt pretty fucking good, actually.”
He smiled and she smiled back.
Wyatt had taken the bus to get there, so CJ offered to give him a ride home. She asked him if he needed help getting into the car and he said yes. He showed her where to stand and how to hold her arm so he could steady himself against her. She could smell the clean soapy scent of his hair and the sweetness of his fabric softener.
Wyatt lived with his parents in Gates Mills, a nice community about twenty minutes from where CJ lived. She pulled into the long driveway and turned off the car. She took his wheelchair out of the back seat and unfolded it for him. Then they repeated the same process that they’d done before, only in reverse this time. Wyatt leaned against her, and his skin felt smooth and warm. He wheeled himself up the metal ramp that extended the length of the porch steps. A faded Ohio State football flag flapped in the breeze. From his doorway, Wyatt paused and turned back. “Hey, Clarke. How’d your SATs go?”
She was surprised he remembered. She’d brought it up only once and barely in passing.
“It’s just a stupid test,” she said. “It’s not important.” He stared at her in a way that told her he knew she was lying. “Okay. Fine. I care. A lot.”
“And?”
“And I think I did really well this time.”
It was the truth. Everything about the test felt different this time. Her hard work had paid off. She could feel it in her bones.
“Good for you, Clarke,” he said. “I’ll see you Monday.”
As she said good-bye, CJ realized how glad she was that he hadn’t let her quit.
Ava frowned and checked the time when she heard the doorbell ring. It was a few minutes after eleven and Jordan was officially late. She knew it wasn’t her at the door since Jordan never used the bell, preferring instead to slap her palm against the side window like an octopus in the way that had been an inside joke for so long that nobody could remember how it started. Ava unlocked the door and opened it. Logan Diffenderfer stood on the porch. “Hey,” he said.
Ava didn’t know why she’d agreed to this. Jordan hadn’t even really asked. She’d just told Ava that she was going to write an article about her painting getting accepted into the Coventry Art Gallery. Ava hated being the center of attention. She hated the idea of being written about. She hated being photographed. Especially when it was Logan Diffenderfer doing the photographing.
“Jordan’s not here yet,” Ava said.
Logan adjusted the camera bag that was over his shoulder. “That’s okay. I didn’t even know she was coming. We don’t need her or anything.”
He didn’t need her. But Ava did. The idea of being alone in her house with Logan was too weird, too awkward. She’d made Jordan promise to be there for the photo shoot.
“Could I maybe come in?” Logan said.
Ava opened the door and ushered him inside. He followed her into the living room. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.”
“So where’s your painting? Where are we doing this?”
“The sunporch probably has the best light,” Ava said.
“The light doesn’t really matter. I can work with anything. I’d rather the photo tell the real story. Where do you usually paint?”
“Um.” Ava checked her phone. Nothing from Jordan. “My easel is in my bedroom.”
“Cool,” he said, and waited for her to show him the way.
She led him down the hall and he followed her inside. Her eye went straight to the bra lying on the floor by the closet. It was her cute pink one. She didn’t know if that made this more or less horrifying. “Maybe we should wait for Jordan, though.”
Logan set his camera bag on the floor and unzipped the main pouch. “Why?”
“Uh…” As soon as his head was down, Ava snatched the bra off the floor and threw it in her closet. She scanned the room to make sure there wasn’t anything else embarrassing. Oh, nothing big. Just her antidepressant medication right there front and center on the dresser. Ava was going to kill Jordan. She wrapped her palm around the orange bottle and pressed it to her side. “I have to grab