David Levithan - Another Day

The important thing is that when he had a chance, he chose me. And I have to hope that next time, he’ll choose me again.

He texts me when he gets home from work. Two words.

Long day.

I text him back one word.

Yeah.

Patterns. The next day, I think about patterns. Or, really, I think about ups and downs. I am used to ups and downs. Monday, when we were at the beach, was an up. I can see that.

But now – it’s neither an up nor a down. It’s like we’ve disappeared from the chart.

He’s not mad at me. I can feel that. But his love has gone passive.

I don’t understand. And there’s no one to talk to about it. Not Justin. Every time I mention the beach, it’s like it never happened. Not Rebecca. If I told her more, it might sound crazier than it really is. Not my mom. She and I don’t talk about ups or downs, as a way of not having them.

I know what he and I had on Monday is worth fighting for. But I have no one to fight, so I turn on myself instead.

I know I wasn’t imagining things.

But I seem to have been sent back to my imagination now.

3

Thursday I get to school first and wait for him. I don’t think that much about it. It’s just what I do.

“Jesus, Rhiannon,” he says when he gets out of the car. I step aside as he pulls out his bag and slams the door.

“What?” I ask.

“ ‘What?’ ” he mimics in a high, girly voice. It’s a voice his bad moods like to use.

“Crappy morning?”

He shakes his head. “Look. Rhiannon. Just let me have two minutes, okay? All I ask is for two minutes each day where nobody wants anything from me. Including you. That’s all.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” I protest.

He looks at me, tired, and says, “Of course you do.” He’s right, I know.

He’s right, and that hurts a little.

Space. I want a boyfriend and he wants space.

Since I have plenty of space – empty space – I guess it’s hard for me to understand.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It’s all right. It’s just – you should see how you look there. Nobody else is just standing in the parking lot. I’m fine with seeing you. But when you stand like that, it’s like you’re waiting to pounce.”

“I get it,” I assure him. “I know.”

We’re at the doors now.

He sighs. “I’ll see you later.”

I guess I’m not going to his locker. I guess that’s okay.

“Sure you don’t want to run away?” I ask. I can feel the beach, the ocean talking through me.

“You have to stop saying that,” he says. “Keep giving me the idea, and one day I just might do it.”

He’s not asking me to come along.

I get my books out of my locker, get ready for the day. My heart isn’t in it, because my heart doesn’t feel like it’s anywhere near me.

I hear a voice say “hey” and don’t realize at first that it’s talking to me. I turn to my left and see this small Asian girl looking at me.

“Hey,” I say back. I have no idea who she is.

“Don’t worry – you don’t know me,” she says. “It’s just – it’s my first day here. I’m checking the school out. And I really like your skirt and your bag. So I thought, you know, I’d say hello. Because, to be honest, I am completely alone right now.”

Join the club , I want to say. But the last thing this girl needs is a view of what’s going through my mind. She already looks overwhelmed.

“I’m Rhiannon,” I tell her, putting my books down and shaking her hand. “Shouldn’t there be someone showing you around? Like, a welcoming committee?”

I feel this is totally Tiffany Chase’s job. She seems to take pride in showing people around. I’ve never understood her.

“I don’t know,” the girl says. She still hasn’t told me her name.

I tell her I’ll be happy to take her to the office. I think she’s supposed to sign in there, anyway.

This does not go over well.

“No!” the girl says, like I’ve just threatened to call the police. “It’s just . . . I’m not here officially. Actually, my parents don’t even know I’m doing this. They just told me we’re moving here, and I . . . I wanted to see it and decide whether I should be freaking out or not.”

Oh, you’re definitely freaking out , I think. But I don’t say that, because it will only freak her out more. Instead, I say, “That makes sense. So you’re cutting school in order to check school out?”

“Exactly.”

“What year are you?”

“A junior.”

That’s funny – she seems like a freshman. But if she’s a junior, I figure there’s nothing wrong with her tagging along with me today. I can pretend I’m Tiffany Chase for a few hours. It’ll give me something to think about besides Justin.

“So am I,” I tell her. “Let’s see if we can pull this off. Do you want to come around with me today?”

“I’d love that.” She seems genuinely excited. It’s a good reminder that sometimes it’s easy to make someone happy.

Maybe it’s easier with strangers. I’m not sure.

Maybe it’s easier with someone who isn’t asking you for something.

The girl’s name is Amy, and it’s almost funny how easily she fits in with my friends. I’d be awful at meeting so many new people at once. But she gets it.

Tiffany Chase sees me showing her around and looks pissed.

“What’s her problem?” Amy asks.

“She usually gets first dibs on being tour guide,” I say.

“I like this version better.”

I know I shouldn’t really take satisfaction from that, but I do. Like I’m so desperate to be good at something that I’ll take whatever I can get.

I do not share this thought with Amy.

I don’t see Justin at our usual time and place between first and second period, but he’s there unexpectedly between second and third. I wonder if he went out of his way to make up for it. We don’t have a chance to talk or anything, but at least I get to see him, and I get to see that he doesn’t look too angry.

In math class, Amy starts passing me notes.

At first, I figure she just has a question. Or maybe she’s telling me she’s had enough, and she’s going to leave next period. But instead it’s . . . chatty. Telling me that class here is just as boring as class back at her real school. Asking me where I got my skirt and whether there are any boys I like and if I think there are any boys she would like.

We go back and forth like this a few times. She picks up almost immediately on some of Ms Frasier’s mannerisms, and is pretty good at making fun of them. ( She talks like a nun, but instead of God, she’s talking about trigonometry. I wonder what her habit looks like. A rhombus? )

I’m having fun, but it’s also making me a little sad, because it’s making me realize that I haven’t really made a new friend since I started dating Justin. It’s like since he and I have been together, I’ve only seen the same people, and less of them. I need this new girl to come out of nowhere in order to have someone to pass notes with.

She comes with me to lunch – we put our stuff down at the table, and Preston goes crazy about all the buttons on her bag, asking her all these questions about Japanese comics. Amy seems flustered, and I’m hoping that Preston is showing his big gay self enough that she doesn’t think he’s flirting.

When Justin gets to the table, I notice he’s got something on his mind. I introduce him to Amy and he gives her the Justin nod. Then he tells me he left his wallet at home. I say it’s not a problem and ask him what he wants. He says French fries, but I get him a cheeseburger, too. When I hand them over, he thanks me, and I know he means it.