Ollie exhales, because I’ve never broken a pinky swear.
As soon as Ollie exits the room, I stuff my face in my pillow. Attempt to suffocate the fact that I, Halle Levitt, am at a total loss.
I can’t jeopardize Kels’s friendship with Nash. I won’t. I don’t know how to friendship IRL. Behind a screen, it’s easy to talk to Nash about the possibility of meeting. It’s easy to imagine an offline friendship, us studying for midterms together at the library and going to book events in the evenings. It’s easy to imagine because it’s theoretical. We both have to get into NYU first. It’s not real until that happens, and there are so many ways it could not. BookCon feels like an even bigger long shot. One of us getting it would be insanely lucky. Both of us? Impossible. There’s every possibility none of it will ever be real.
I’m not ready for real. How can I be certain the truth that is me won’t be a total letdown? I imagine the flash of disappointment that crosses his face when I tell him who I am. His disappointment—it would ruin me. I can’t deal with that.
So for now, I won’t.
September 3
6:41 AM
Mom
WE’RE CONNECTED
Dad
omg hi
Ollie
what up
how are you? how is Israel? how is everything?
Dad
Mom
We scouted this morning … locations for b-roll, other kibbutzim to interview … it’s going to be great
Dad
awesome!
Ollie
I’ve already told all my friends that you’re going to win an Oscar
Mom
Oliver
Dad
Ollie
Just raising the stakes
Mom
If you’re going to brag about your fab parents, at least tell them something true!
Mom
How are you doing, Hal?
like socially? school starts today! so I’m not sure to whom ollie is referring to with regards to “friends”
Mom
I miss your regular uses of whom
Dad
Ollie
I don’t
FOUR
If school and I had a relationship status, it’d be it’s complicated.
Ollie and I sit in plush chairs in the guidance office, bent over the official MHS map. I oscillate between fidgeting with the hem of my black shirtdress and wiping off my cherry lipstick. I don’t know why I listened to Elle this morning when she helped pick my first-day-of-school outfit and insisted red lipstick was a good idea. Amy and Samira agreed, and so did Kels. In my room, alone, the line between Halle and Kels feels more blurred. Lipstick makes me feel like the badass Kels is online. Out in the world? It’s a calculated risk, and this is definitely not the time for it.
I should know better, honestly. It’s my fifth first day in a new school system, and as a veteran newbie, I have developed a comprehensive list of rules for the first day at a new school. It’s published on the blog, for those interested in reading the whole list; 1.2K retweets. Rule number one: Don’t draw attention to yourself.
I rummage through the front pocket of my backpack for a muted neutral lip gloss, swipe it over my lips, and instantly feel more like me, just Halle.
Ollie is fixated on the map. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “This map is the worst, Hal. Useless.”
It’s a relief, being in the same school. We may have no clue where we’re going, but at least we have no clue where we’re going together.
“Homeroom starts in ten. Do you have any questions?”
Ms. Connors, our guidance counselor, reappears and hands us our schedules. Ollie opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “We’re good.”
She nods and escorts us out of her office. “Sophomores are in the science wing, down to the left. Seniors are in the English wing upstairs.”
“Thanks,” Ollie says.
Ms. Connors flashes a plastic smile that screams good luck before closing the guidance office door behind us.
We’re officially on our own.
I reassess the map. Ollie is right. It is the worst. It’s nothing short of illegible—the colors don’t contrast, the symbols aren’t obvious, and the typeface is tiny. The printing is so bad that the inky route is just meaningless lines connecting meaningless places.
“I’m making a new map tonight,” Ollie says. “It will be in Ms. Connors’s box in the morning.”
I snort. “Not again.”
“I want to contribute to the community, Halle. My motives are pure.”
We’re headed in opposite directions. So we bump fists, promise to reunite at lunch, and go our separate ways. Ollie will probably have his own crew by then.
For a small school, it still feels like people are everywhere. I go upstairs and down two hallways, my pulse speeding with each wrong turn. I pause against a row of