like bookcon is going to be interested in aesthetically pleasing cupcake photos.
6:53 PM
I migrate from the bathroom to the bedroom as I try to message Nash and pretend everything is normal, that I don’t know the exact color of his eyes or the sound of his voice. I settle on the most generic of generic messages.
what’s up with you?
6:57 PM
Not much. Some new kids moved into town. A sister and brother. The girl’s our age, I think. I met her at the library.
6:59 PM
She’s me. Two words have never been more impossible to type.
oh?
7:00 PM
Yeah! Seems cool. Kind of quiet, but we were in a library. I’m mostly basing my assessment off meeting her in the YA section.
7:00 PM
You know, where the cool kids hang.
7:01 PM
exactly what I was thinking.
7:01 PM
It was nice, meeting someone new under the age of 55. Most people come here for the senior life.
7:02 PM
they do NOT
7:02 PM
Swear to God.
7:03 PM
But anyways, meeting her got me thinking. Like, it’ll be cool when we meet.
7:03 PM
My pulse quickens. How would he feel if he knew we already had?
i’m a terribly awkward human
7:03 PM
I mean … mood?
7:04 PM
fair enough.
7:04 PM
but new girl is probably most definitely cooler than me.
7:05 PM
Eh, probably.
7:08 PM
He doesn’t say anything else, but I can feel his disappointment in the non-immediate response.
A knock on the door makes me jump.
“It’s me,” Ollie says and he comes into the room, Scout on his heels. She jumps on the bed and makes herself comfortable between my crisscrossed legs. Ollie takes a seat on the end, fists curled at his sides.
“You should apologize to Gramps,” he says.
“What?” I ask.
Ollie’s eyes are fire. “You couldn’t not be Kels for one day? We hadn’t even been here for an hour and—”
“Nash is here.” I blurt out. I know Ollie is pissed at me but I need someone else to know.
Ollie blinks. “What?”
I wrap my arms around my knees, letting my toes sink into Aunt Liz’s mattress. “I, um, kind of met him at the library—and I’m shook, Ollie. Seconds after I learn that I’ll be hosting Ariel Goldberg’s cover reveal, I look up and Nash is just there, like, trying not to laugh at my reaction.”
“Wait, pause on Nash—you got the cover reveal?”
We bump fists and I smile because in the middle of this mess, I can’t forget something good happened today. Something amazing, actually. Ollie holds out his hand. I pull up The Email and he reads it and can’t stop smiling and wow, it feels so good when he’s proud of me. He repeats “This is so great!” probably half a dozen times before relinquishing my phone.
Ollie flops down on his back so he’s staring at the ceiling. Scout lies on his stomach and it’s too adorable.
But then he says, “Okay, back to Nash. What did he say?”
“Oh. I mean, I didn’t tell him.”
He turns his head toward me. “Wait. Didn’t tell him about the cover reveal?”
I stare at my knees. My eyes are burning a hole in my right kneecap and I’m silent one beat too long.
“Halle.”
“Ollie.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“You’re my best friend.”
“Nope.” He sits up so fast, Scout is startled. She jumps off the bed with a quiet yelp and retreats out my ajar door. I wish I could follow her right out and away from this conversation.
I look at Ollie, who has the sternest expression I have ever seen on a fifteen-year-old. When Ollie is disappointed in me, I forget that I’m the older sibling.
“So, what? You’re just going to spend all year pretending you don’t know everything about him?”
“I—I don’t know, okay? I haven’t exactly thought that far ahead.”
“I repeat: He’s your best friend.”
“Online—and maybe it should stay that way. IRL me will ruin everything.”
He crosses his arms. “That is literally the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”
Ollie doesn’t understand, because Ollie is braver than I will ever be. Ollie’s gut reaction would’ve been to tell Nash—and he would’ve been excited to do it. It would never even cross his mind to keep himself a secret from his best friend, not for one second.
“You’ll tell him, though? Once you know him better?”
“Yes,” I say, and it’s the second time today I lie instantly.
“You have to promise. If you become friends, you’ll tell him the truth.”
“I promise.” I pinky swear for added believability.