He says, “Can we just get through these few days? You don’t have to forgive me or ever talk to me again, but I don’t want to fight. We have family to share. At least for our niece, we might as well learn to be in the same room together.”
“Is that what you want? To never talk to me again?”
His throat bobs. “I want whatever you want.”
I want him to hold me, but we didn’t hug. It wouldn’t occur to him, and I couldn’t ask for it. I want a lot of things from him that we never discussed.
I could chalk it up to this monumental birthday - turning thirty has me looking at life, my future, through the lens of acreator. I achieved my goals, I’ve overcome my obstacles, now I can conjure the happiness I didn’t know I missed. I can create whatever life I want. And I want to be loved.
Being with Tucker felt like being loved, even when I was seventeen.
I thought I wanted someone to look at me as he did, but I realize that I wanthim. Not a stranger, not someone else. I end up looking at every man like they are they wrong, simply because they’re nothim.
“Okay.” I hop down from the counter. I shake out my tears and decide, “I won’t fight with you. I won’t bring it up anymore. We don’t have to talk to each other after this trip.”
He meets my eyes but doesn’t say a word. I see the twinge of pain.He’sin there, somewhere.
“Okay,” he agrees quietly. He walks out of the door, leaving me.
Chapter Sixteen
Promposal
Kyle Huberman asked me to senior prom. He played baseball with Tucker and started eating lunch with us, sometimes coming over to Johnny’s to hang out or going with our small group of friends to dinner at Gordie’s on Friday nights. I liked him. He had freckles all over his face, reddish blonde hair and a goofy, asymmetrical smile, and he laughed at my jokes. Tucker always stood between us, I felt like he was hiding me, but one day Kyle found the space to ask me to a movie.
“She doesn’t have time,” Tucker answered for me, eavesdropping. When I gave him a look, he said, “You don’t! You have ballet rehearsals.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I did go to a movie with Kyle that one time. He didn’t try to kiss me or hold my hand, which I was glad of, but he put his eyes on me every few minutes, gauging my energy. I swallowed a lot. He went to get me a soda. My hands felt sweaty.
At some point that year, I became aware of the rumor about me and Tucker. Those in the know, like Kyle, understood we were not a couple, but that fact made me more nervous. He witnessed Tucker’s handsy-ness and I feared he might think it was okay for him, that I was the kind of girl who liked having my hair touched or being thrown over someone’s shoulder. So many things were only okay when Tucker did it because I trusted him,I liked playing with him, and I felt special to him. I didn’t want any other boy to treat me that way.
The next weekend, Kyle did the wholepromposalthing after a baseball game. I don’t know how the coach allowed it. Right after they shook hands with the opposing team, he ran onto the field shouting my name. Four other teammates came rushing out with a sign and noisemakers. The stands had just started to clear out and Kyle yelled loudly, “Ella Moynes! Will you go to prom with me?!”
Everyone cheered. My face burned. I said yes, and Kyle broke into a smile.
Macy sat beside me in the bleachers, we didn’t have rehearsal that Saturday, and she pushed me toward the dugout. “Go! Go talk to him!”
I was nervous and my heart beat out of my chest. I moved slowly toward the fence, waiting for Kyle to come out, but Tucker appeared first.
“Let’s go,” he growled.
I didn’t drive to the home games because I felt uncomfortable with the tight parking lot. I would catch a ride some someone and always assumed that Tucker would drive me home, which he did.
“Wait,” I argued.
“Ella - let’sgo.” His face was red, he was sweaty. He gripped his bag with one hand and reached for my arm with the other.
Kyle jogged up after him. “I’ll take her home.” He smiled at me, then looked at Tucker’s hand on my elbow.
Tucker shook his head, moving his grip to my fingers. “No, I’m supposed to do it.”
I protested, “Eli -” He tightened his hold on my hand. “Ow!”
His face shifted and he released me. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” He exhaled. His eyes landed on Kyle, and he stared angrily at him for a moment before spitting, “Whatever. Do whatever youwant.”
I’d never seen him this angry before. I didn’t know where it came from. He pitched a great game, they had won, and he usually would have swooped me up and spun me around, high on the thrill of victory. I considered he thought I stole his thunder. Then, I realized he might be angry for a different reason.
“Hold on,” I told Kyle. “I’m going to talk to him. Just give me a minute.”