to join me in the backyard. His voice clips in his usual singsong way. It makes everything he says sound like a joke he’s not quite finished telling.
“Tell that to Miss Ballerina,” I say. “Juilliard’s dance program will never see so many hair ties, perfume bottles, and pink tank tops ever again. The onslaught is coming.”
“You’d be surprised,” Tucker says, but there’s an edge to his tone that sticks to the air. He looks different tonight. I can’t place it. I lean forward and he kisses me on the lips. He pulls away before I can reach out to him, link my hand behind his head, and go in for a deeper kiss. Like the one we had last week. Out of nowhere, Tucker held his arms around my back, pulled me close, and kissed me so deeply that for a moment, we weren’t just Tucker and Bean, best friends for nine years, boyfriend and girlfriend for one year.
I wanted more than polite kissing.
Now, when he pulls away, Tucker digs his hands in his sweatpants pockets. Hmm. Hands in pockets, curved back, and eyes to the ground. I’ve known Tucker too long—something is up. Neither one of us are excited about me going to the Cape, even though it’s unavoidable.
“You’re driving up in two weeks!” I say, trying to make him feel better. “It’s better than having to wait until August for Scarlett’s going-away party.”
I link my arms around his waist and he leans his body weight into mine. It is familiar now, his body and my body, close together.
“I don’t know if they’ll give me the car,” he says quietly.
“Trying to get out of coming? I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to be in the same house or even the same state as Aunt Nancy if I didn’t have to.”
He laughs but it’s soft, like a private joke between us.
“Your great-aunt isn’t that bad.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Okay, she’s the worst,” he admits.
His chest shudders when he laughs and I can feel it, he’s pressed so close to me.
“I don’t want to go almost two months without seeing you,” I say.
“We did it last year.”
“Yeah, but that was before you fell madly in love with me.”
I kiss his nose and pull back to ready my coordinates and show him all the varied equations and procedures I used to track the comet tonight.
“Either way, I’ll see you at Scarlett’s party,” I add. “It’s all Nancy has been talking about for months.”
He nods. Something about him is different. I can’t place it.
I’d better get down to business. He’ll cheer up eventually. I need more time than you to express how I feel, Tucker has said about a dozen times this year. I should remember that sometimes it takes some people longer to express themselves.
I throw my hair behind my shoulders and wave the coordinates sheet. This should raise his spirits. The sight of mathematics and equations usually gets a smile and a lift of his eyebrows over his dark eyeglass frames.
“Now,” I explain, “the perihelion isn’t projected to be until July 3rd, but it’s amazing, I’m telling you. Even with light pollution this comet is the brightest I’ve ever seen.”
I punch in the coordinates to my school computer.
I run a hand down the telescope like Vanna White. I’m careful not to move its position. “Look at this baby. Eight-inch mirror. Highest magnification possible.”
Tucker nods but doesn’t say anything.
“Ready?” I say.
“Steady,” he replies, but our usual call and answer tradition sounds hollow. I have kept this information a secret on purpose. He knows this. Way to be a buzzkill.
Whatever. I push on; his bad mood isn’t going to change mine. Tucker wanted to see this. He said so this morning as we cleaned out our lockers at school.
The computer beeps, starting to record the images from the Stargazer.
“This baby was worth 7,562 pizza orders,” I say about the telescope. “Good-bye Pizza Palace for almost two whole months.” I sit down on the blanket, cross my ankles over each other, and pop a mint. I’m not opposed to making the first move.
He peers through the lens.
I make room for Tucker on the blanket.
“You did it,” he says with a small lift to his voice. His deep tone is gentle, like he doesn’t want to talk too loudly. “You’re gonna win that scholarship.” The slice of the moon above his head outlines him in a pearly glow.
“You look really good right now,” I say. “Standing next to my Stargazer. It’s sexy.”