There’s nothing but background noise for a moment. I wait, picking at a hangnail, and then I hear her voice again, awkward. “Uh, Jenna, can I call you back tomorrow? It’s just, we’re about to —”
I hang up on her.
Flopping backward onto my bed, I stare up at the ceiling and despair. I’ve never hung up on anyone, ever! But God, the way she just brushes me off now . . . I know she’s off doing her own thing this summer, and so am I, but that shouldn’t mean she can just put our friendship on hold. A slow tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe it away angrily. Right now, I feel completely alone.
I’m still lying there hours later, clutching the soft throw. The house falls silent, as Fiona turns off her music to sleep, and Adam and Susie lock up and make their way to bed. I should turn in, too, but somehow the effort it would take to find PJs and brush my teeth is beyond me. Maybe I could just fall asleep right here. . . .
Suddenly, there’s a rattle at my window. I sit up. There it is again. Crossing the room, I look out, checking that a branch hasn’t gotten trapped in the shutters again, or —
“Hey, Jenna!” There’s a loud stage whisper from down in the backyard.
“Argh!” I let out a squawk of shock, banging my head against the frame. “Ethan, is that you?” I squint to make out a shape in the dark. “What are you trying to do, scare me half to death?”
“No, it’s me, Reeve.”
As I lean out of my window — face red and blotchy from crying, chocolate staining my shirt from where I comfort-ate a half-pint of ice cream — I see him step out from the shadows.
“Can you come down? I, uh, need to talk to you.”
26
I reel backward in shock. Reeve. Here. Now?
“Jenna?” he calls again.
“Yup?” I edge toward the window, staring like he’s some kind of hallucination brought on by too much sugar and wishful thinking.
“Can you come down?”
I can’t see his face, just the dark outline of his silhouette. “What for?”
“So we can talk!”
I’m standing, trying to figure out what to do, when I hear footsteps outside my door. I freeze. If someone comes . . . but there’s nothing. I exhale, relieved.
“Jenna?” Reeve’s voice is louder now. I check the flickering display on my nightstand. It’s one a.m.
“Fine! I’ll come down,” I hiss at him. “But be quiet! Susie will . . . I don’t know what she’ll do if she finds you here, but it won’t be good!”
I close the window and spin around, freaked. What is he even doing here? I’m still dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, so I quickly throw the comforter around my shoulders and pull on a pair of socks. My hair is a tangled mess, and as for my face . . . argh! Skidding silently down the hallway, I lock myself in the bathroom and brush my teeth at record speed. A wipe with my facecloth is all I have time to manage before creeping downstairs and out to the back porch.
Reeve is waiting there for me.
“Hey!” He bounces up from the step, looking anxious. The porch lamp is spilling gold light over him, making his black hair gleam perfectly and his tan appear even darker. I feel a new rush at the sight of him, but force myself to stay cool. I don’t want to fall all over myself if he’s just here to say it didn’t mean anything.
Reeve clears his throat. “I’m really glad you —”
“Shhh!” I hiss, panicked, and quickly check the house for signs of life.
“Sorry!” He lowers his voice.
I wait for a moment, but it seems safe: nothing but the sound of the forest and the low whir of crickets. “So what do you want?” I pull my blanket tight around my shoulders and try to look unconcerned.
Reeve looks down at his battered black sneakers for a moment. “I, uh, wanted to check in. About today . . .”
“What about it?” I manage to sound casual, as if I haven’t spent hours having imaginary versions of this very conversation.
He looks up, meeting my eyes. “I’m . . . sorry. I mean, I was kind of weird before, with the guys.”
“Really?” I act nonchalant even as I feel a wave of relief. He’s sorry!
“Yeah . . .” Reeve shrugs self-consciously. “I guess, we didn’t really talk about . . . You know, how it was going to work. With the others.”
“No . . . we didn’t,” I admit. We didn’t do much talking at all.
There’s a pause, as I get a very vivid flashback to what we were doing instead of all that mature discussion. By the look I get from Reeve, I’m guessing he’s thinking the same thing.
“Umm.” I blush. “So . . . maybe we should do that now. The talking?”
He nods immediately. “Right.”
Another silence.
“Do you want to go first?” I ask hesitantly. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, I just want to be done with it — good or bad. Bracing myself, I sit down on the porch step and wait.
Reeve sits down as well. He’s a safe couple of feet away from me, but I can still feel the presence of his body. Staring straight out at the dark yard, he lets out a long breath. “The thing is . . . I like you, Jenna.” His words come tumbling out in a quick rush, and right away, my heart leaps. “But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. About . . . us.”
He glances over, cautious. Just as fast, my hopes deflate. This is it? He shows up late at night, throwing pebbles at my window, just to tell me not to get the wrong idea?
Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I play with the frayed edge of the blanket. “So, what is this? I mean . . . what happened, was it a mistake? Because it would be cool if you didn’t mean it,” I add immediately, not wanting to sound desperate. “I mean, we were both so stressed, and I did kind of throw myself at you and —”
“No!” Reeve exclaims, before remembering to lower his voice. “No, that wasn’t just you. It was . . . I wanted it, too.”
“Oh.” My voice is quiet. I force myself to glance back at him. “Then, what? I don’t understand.”
Reeve sighs. “Me either. It’s just . . .” He looks over at me, the light casting shadows across his face. But I can still see his eyes, and the expression there is almost resigned. “You’re only here for the summer, and then you’re heading home, right?” I nod slowly. “And I might be going to college, or not, and . . . I don’t want to start something I can’t follow through.” Reeve sits there, leaning forward on his knees, ripping up the dandelion heads that grow up the side of the steps.