“Okay, what if—oh, wait! Oh my God—ballet!”
“Oliver, only one of us can have a meltdown right now, and I don’t know what you mean by—”
“No, I mean, my mom took the twins to ballet class and Rick’s up in San Jose on a business trip! No one’s home! You can check on my laptop there.”
“But we’re not supposed to be alone in the house together,” I said.
“Emmy!” Oliver gave me a small shake. “Are you serious right now?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know! Let’s go!”
I drove back to our houses in record time, my hands shaking even as they gripped the wheel. “I think I’m going to throw up,” I told Oliver.
“No, you’re not,” he said.
“No, I really think I am. What have I done? Why did I think this was a good idea?”
“Because you’re smart and want to join the surf team and move out of your parents’ house.”
“Those are pretty good reasons,” I admitted.
“They are,” he agreed.
I parked my car around the corner so my mom wouldn’t see it, then Oliver and I ran down the street and let ourselves in through the back door. The house was quiet, with some pink plastic cups sitting half full on the countertop and a small purple hoodie left slung over a chair. “Oh no, Nora forgot her jacket,” I said.
“Worry about it later,” Oliver told me, hustling me up the stairs to his room. It smelled different from the rest of the house, like Oliver. Maureen’s scented candles from Anthropologie hadn’t made it this far, apparently. “Okay,” he said, opening up his laptop. “Type. Do whatever.”
I sat down at the keyboard, then froze. “Emmy,” Oliver said, his voice softer this time as he knelt down next to me. “The answer’s not gonna change now. You might as well open it.”
“Good point,” I said, but I didn’t move my hands. “Can you, um? Do you mind just standing over there?” I gestured toward his bed. “I want to read it by myself first, whatever it says.”
He moved without even questioning it and I took another shaky breath, let it out slowly, then typed in the admissions address. A few clicks later and I saw the letter waiting in my in-box.
I opened it and read it.
Then read it again.
Then read it once more just to make sure.
“Emmy?” Oliver sounded hesitant. “Are you . . . is it . . . ?”
“Dear Emily,” I started to read out loud, then stopped for a second so I could catch my breath. “Dear Emily, Congratulations! I am delighted to offer you admission to the University of California, San Diego for fall—”
“YESSSSS!!!!” Oliver grabbed me out of the chair and up into his arms and I squealed with laughter, a sound of pure delight.
“Oh my God!” I cried against his shoulder, and then I couldn’t hang on to him tight enough. “I got in!”
“You got in!” He swung me in a circle and I laughed again. “You’re going to college!”
“I’m going to college!” I cried, because in that moment, I didn’t care what my parents said, I didn’t care what anyone said. I had done it all on my own. This was all mine.
“C’mere,” Oliver said, and then he was kissing me while still holding me up. I kissed him back, dizzy from happiness and adrenaline and the spinning. Eventually, we made it back to his bed and I collapsed into the sheets, still kissing him, not letting him go anywhere.
Oliver had no problem with that.
“Good thing you’re a better kisser than a surfer,” I teased him in between kisses, moving his hair back so that it wouldn’t get in the way.
“Well, college girls turn me on,” he replied, then leaned in again as I started to giggle. He kissed my jaw instead, then right below my ear, and I instinctively turned toward him.
That’s when we heard the garage door start to mechanically grind open.
“Shit!” I cried, and we sprang apart. I slammed the laptop shut and grabbed my car keys while Oliver straightened the bed and then his shirt. We were both breathing hard, both flushed, and even though I was a minute away from being busted by Oliver’s mom and two prima ballerinas, I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Hurry,” he said. “Use the back door again.”
“Okay,” I said, then grinned at him.
“Are you trying to get us both grounded?” he hissed, but he had a pretty dopey smile on his face, too. “Go! Get out of here! Go research dorm rooms or something.”
I grabbed his hand and kissed it one last time, then disappeared down the stairs and out the back door just as the laundry room door started to open. “I’M SO COLD—” I could hear Nora start to say as I slid the door shut behind me, and I turned and went past a row of sago palms, tall enough to hide me from the windows.
“I’m going to college,” I whispered to myself once I was back in the car, and when I adjusted the rearview mirror, I didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection.
But I liked what I saw.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I managed not to text either Drew or Caro that night, and at dinner my mom said, “Why do you have a funny little smile on your face?”
“Oh, just happy,” I said, shoving around some rigatoni on my plate. Did they have rigatoni in the campus cafeterias? Maybe I should try being a vegetarian. “No big deal.”
My mom eyed me, but said nothing more. I could tell she thought my smile was Oliver related, and I decided that that was probably safer than her realizing the truth. I was going to have to tell my parents at some point, but I was hoping it could be in the future. Like, the way future. Possibly once I was a grandmother.
By lunchtime the next day, though, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Caro!” I said when I saw her in the hallway. “Caro! Best friend for life! I have to tell you something!”
She stopped in her tracks and pulled out her earbuds so I could hear the tinny music blasting. How she doesn’t go deaf is beyond me. “Well, you can tell Drew, too,” she said, gesturing over my shoulder to our friend as he came walking over.
“Hallway meeting!” he said, flinging his arm around my shoulder. “I’m thinking of inviting Kevin to my grandmother’s big seventy-fifth birthday party extravaganza. What do you think?”
“Snore alert,” Caro said.
“Can’t you just take him to a nice dinner instead?” I asked. “And yeah, what Caro said.”
“Duh, we’ve already been to dinner, like, three times. I don’t know how much more unlimited salad and bread sticks I can handle.”
“I love the bread sticks,” Caro said dreamily. “God, I’m starving.”
“I just want my family to meet Kevin,” Drew said, and underneath the eagerness of his voice, I could hear everything he didn’t dare say out loud: I want my family to want to meet Kevin. “And everyone will be there at the restaurant and Kane will be there, so it’s not like I’m going in alone and . . .” He stopped and took a breath. I realized that he was wringing his hands in front of him.
“Drew,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “You should invite Kevin. If everyone else is bringing a guest, you should be able to, too.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Drew said, waving my words away. “I’m just worried that Kevin doesn’t want to meet my family.”
“Well, he’s already met Kane,” Caro pointed out. “That’s about as exciting as it’ll get.”
“True,” Drew said. “And there will be alcohol.”
“Tell him it’s like a booze cruise, only no boat and your grandmother will be there,” I suggested. “That’s a good sell.”
“And cake!” Caro added. “Who doesn’t love cake? Oh my God, seriously, can we go eat lunch now?” She looked pained.
“Wait, I still have news!” I said.
“Let’s walk and talk,” Drew said. “I have to head over to yearbook.”
“Can you ask them to cut back on all the picture taking, by the way?” Caro asked as we started to make our way through the hall and toward the quad.
“Not every aspect of high school life needs to be commemorated.”
“Not every student hates school the way you do, Caro,” I told her, linking arms with her. “Some of us might want to remember it.”
“If Caro had her way, the yearbook would be a pamphlet,” Drew added.
“On my island,” Caro muttered. “Okay, Emmy, hit it. The big news.”
I stopped walking and turned to face them. Caro looked pained that we weren’t heading in the direction of food anymore.
“The big news—” I started to say.
“Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” she said.
“You’re pregnant?” Drew said in the loudest whisper possible. “Is it Oliver’s?”
“What?” I cried. “No, I’m not pregnant! What the hell, Caro? Do you really think I’d be announcing that in the hallway at school?”
Caro shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve never told me you’re pregnant before. I don’t know what the rules are.”
“I’m not pregnant!” I said again. “This is how terrible rumors get started! Talking to you two is like playing a sick game of telephone!”
“If you are, though,” Drew said, “then you should be on 16 and Pregnant because then Caro and I will get airtime as your supportive best friends and then you’ll probably end up on Teen Mom and make some really good money.” He nodded sagely, the oddest and youngest financial planner ever.
I just stared at both of them. “You two are the worst best friends in the history of existence.”
Caro just grinned and hoisted her backpack up farther onto her shoulders. “Well, whatever you’re going to tell me is going to be really disappointing now.”
“Thanks,” I said, then took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the actual news. I got into UCSD.”
“Oh my God!” Drew said, then reached forward and grabbed me up in a hug. “Congratulations! Wait. Did I even know you applied?”
“No,” Caro said, but her voice was oddly flat. “I didn’t know you applied, either, Emmy.”
I hugged Drew back, then pulled away to see Caro’s stony face regarding me with . . . well, I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t exactly pride or happiness. “I didn’t tell anyone,” I said. “I just did it to see if I could get in. And I did!”
“And you did,” Caro repeated. “When were you planning on telling me, though?”
I glanced at Drew, who gave me the “you’re on your own with this one” look. “Um, right now?” I said. “I couldn’t obviously tell you that I got in until I knew whether or not I had, Caro.”
“Because it’s not like we had plans to go to community college together for the next two years or anything?” she replied.
“Plans?” I asked. “I don’t remember having plans. We talked about it, yeah, but we didn’t—”
“Did you tell Oliver?” Caro continued like I wasn’t even speaking.
“He knows that I got in.” Why was I starting to feel so defensive about this? Wasn’t Caro supposed to be happy for me? That was Rule Number One in the Best Friend Handbook, right?
“No, I mean, did you tell him you applied?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes. But Caro—”
“Fucking forget it,” she said, then started to walk away.
“Caro!” I yelled after her, but she waved her hand at me and kept walking.
I looked at Drew. He looked at me. “I’m out,” he said, holding up his hands. “This is between you two, not me.”
“Great, thanks,” I said, still watching Caro as she slipped around the corner. “I guess I have to go after her now.”
“Probably a good idea,” Drew agreed. “You shouldn’t let Caro stew for too long or she gets . . .”
“Yeah,” I sighed. I knew what he meant. Caro was an excellent stewer. She could turn a splinter into a redwood if she thought about it long enough. “Talk to you later?”
“Go, before her head explodes,” Drew replied, and I hurried off after Caro. “Hey, Emmy, wait!”
“Yeah?”
Drew smiled at me. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Drew.” I smiled back at him. And then it hit me. In six months, we wouldn’t see each other every day, that we’d be in separate schools—separate parts of the state—for the first time in our lives.
“Now go get Caro,” Drew said, gesturing off into the distance. “Before she turns into a fire starter or something.”
When she’s mad, Caro becomes an expert speed walker and I eventually had to jog to catch up to her. “Caro!” I screamed. “Would you just stop? Please?”
She stopped so fast that I almost ran into her. “What?” she asked, and the venom in her voice made me take a step backward. “Is there more exciting news? Let me guess, you—”
“Oh, knock it off, Caro!” I yelled. “I got into college and you’re mad at me? That makes zero sense! You’re supposed to be happy for me! That’s what friends do!”
“You know what else friends do?” she said. “They tell each other things! Important things, like the fact that they’re, oh, I don’t know, applying to colleges, maybe?”
“I applied to one!”
“You should have told me!” Caro yelled. “I thought we would get an apartment together, take the same classes!”
“Get an apartment?” I repeated. “Caro, do you really think my mom would let me do that? There’s no way! We talked about it, yeah, but there’s no—”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know you were planning this whole new life!” Caro said. “Everyone seems to be doing that, though, making all these new plans without me. Drew’s got his scholarship and a cute barista and you’ve got San Diego and Oliver.”
I tried to interrupt her, but she didn’t stop. “I’m really glad you told Oliver, though. He’s been home, what? Two months? Six weeks? And yet he knows more about you than I do.”
“Oliver? Seriously, Caro? Is that what this is about?”
Caro stalked over until we were less than a foot apart. “It is always about Oliver,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “It’s been about him for years. I thought now that he was home that maybe we could move on, that we wouldn’t just be ‘Oliver’s old friends,’ or whatever the fucking press used to call us. But it’s still all about him.” Caro held up her hands like she was dropping the past ten years at my feet. “So fine. He wins.”
“This isn’t a competition!” I cried. “I’m still friends with you and Drew. I’m just . . . dating Oliver. That’s all.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about college? Why didn’t you mention it to me? You’re not the only one who wants out of here, Emmy!”
“I didn’t even think I would get in!” I cried. “It just happened!”
“Okay, then here’s another question. Why don’t you call and ask me to do something? Or—crazy thought—ask me how I’m doing!”
I didn’t have an answer for that. It was no secret that I hadn’t been spending as much time with Caro and Drew now that Oliver was home. With Drew, it hadn’t really mattered because he was spending all of his free time with Kevin. But Caro . . .
“Caro,” I said. “Why don’t you hang out with us this afternoon? We were just going to go to the Stand and get dinner, but you should come with us.”
Caro just turned around and started walking away again. “You’ll have to forgive me if I pass on your pity date,” she called over her shoulder. “I know where I’m not wanted.”
“Caroline!” I yelled. “You can’t just walk away in the middle of a fight. That’s not fair!”
“Look who’s suddenly upset when things aren’t fair,” Caro yelled, and kept walking. She walked until she was just a speck in the distance, then she seemed to melt into the horizon. I watched her go, defeated, then turned around and trudged back to school where Oliver was waiting for me near the concrete statue of our mascot, a giant, soaring bird that looked like it was constantly deciding which student to gobble down first. (Go Hawks.) At that moment, I sort of wished he would pick me.
“Hey!” Oliver said. It had gotten cloudy out and he had tugged his hoodie up over his head so that just a few strands of hair were peeking out. “Where’d you go? I saw Drew and he said something about Caroline and stew?”
“Yeah, well,” I said, “Caroline’s not exactly happy about me getting into UCSD.”
“What?” Oliver frowned. “Why? She’s, like, your best friend. I thought she’d be running around the school, yelling at people and lighting firecrackers.”
“Yeah, well,” I said again. “Apparently not.” I didn’t feel like explaining that the problem had everything and nothing to do with him. “Ready to go?”
Oliver eyed me, then slung his arm across my shoulders. He didn’t answer my question; instead, we walked toward my car, with only one place to go: home.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The silent treatment from Caro went on for a week. My phone had never been so quiet. “Are you still not talking?” Drew said when he saw me at school on Monday, after a weekend with no Caro. “How am I supposed to have two best friends who are fighting? This doesn’t work for me.”
“Learn to adjust,” I told him. “And I’m happy to talk to Caro. She just doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Oliver, while understanding, was equally clueless. “Can’t you just, like, text her?” he said. We were both studying in his room while Maureen made approximately twenty-three separate trips from downstairs to the linen closet, which meant that she passed Oliver’s room every time. “No closed doors, you two!” she said the first time, in a teasing voice that all parents use when they actually mean, “No, seriously, we will strip the skin off your bones if you close that door.”
Luckily, one of the floorboards on the second floor squeaks, so we could always hear her coming. With the twins fast asleep in their room and Rick watching TV downstairs, it was pretty easy to make out between laundry trips. “How many sheet sets do you even have?” I whispered to him as the floorboard squeaked and we sprang apart.
He just shrugged and picked up his pencil. “Yeah, but so then why does cosine . . . ?” he said as Maureen passed. “I have no idea,” he whispered once she was gone. “You know she’s spying on us.”