Page 19 of Yours

“Bye,” I say, feeling the tears burning my lids.

Brian backs up a step, then his face tenses. He nods, then turns and walks away from me.

I watch him go until he’s blended into the people swirling to and from and I can no longer pick out the jean jacket he’s wearing or the top of his sandy-blonde head.

“S’cuse me, miss,” a man says behind me, trying to get around me. I realize I’m holding up the line and shuffle forward, my feet turned to lead.

Brian

Fuck. What the hell am I doing, letting her go like this? I stride back to my truck, oblivious to my surroundings or the people darting this way and that. I pay my parking fee and stuff the ticket into my pocket, then find my truck and get inside its cold metal walls.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I think, shoving the heels of my hands into my eyeball sockets until I see black pinpricks. I’m breathing so fast I’m getting lightheaded. I swing my fist, not caring about the target, and land on my horn. A sharp bark from under my hood shatters the silence, but I could give a shit.

I imagine Darcy getting off her plane in Vermont where it’s much colder. I watch the swarm of students swallow her up, all of them dressed like they’re off to the club for lunch instead of a lecture on cell division. They’re taking her away from me when I want her right here, right now. She doesn’t belong there with those fancy-pants teachers and stuffy dorm rooms. My stomach flips upside down at the thought of those rich, cocky college boys getting into her pants, or worse, into her head.

I realize I’m being selfish. Why shouldn’t she better herself by going to this college? There’s not much for her in Willow Creek, Michigan.

Except me, my selfish brain points out.

And she’s not some vulnerable little flower. She’s tough. She won’t let some jerk mess with her. Though just the idea of one of them trying makes my blood boil.

I pull out of the parking lot, gunning the engine for all she’s worth. I’m pissed and flustered and already missing her too much. How long until Christmas? Two months?

After I clear the toll booth and am accelerating onto the highway, I know two things at once: one, that I care for her in a way that scares me—that I always have, and two, that I’m going to get her back.

Part Two

Six

Darcy

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Tiffany says from her bed where she grasps a cheerleader costume in her lap. “You need to get out of your funk.”

“I’m not in a funk,” I reply, even though it’s probably true. Since returning to school, it’s like I can’t get focused. I’m trying, but I watch my phone like a hawk, hoping to see a text or a missed call from Brian. So far, I’ve only received a “glad you’re safe” reply after I landed. Has he already forgotten me?

“I’ve heard that the Kappas will be there.”

“Who?” I ask, slumping onto her chair.

“They’re the jocks, remember?”

I try to picture even one of the fraternity members, but they are all a blur. They’ve never talked to me anyway.

“You, me, and Willow. We can be a squad,” Tiffany says, scooping up a skimpy skirt and sweater that I know will be too small and tosses it to me. “Here, try it on.”

With a sigh, I go into my room next door and slip off my clothes. I catch my reflection in the mirror inside my closet: My boobs are still too big for my small frame, and my legs seem gangly. The skirt drops over my butt in a way that I’m afraid makes it look big, and makes my pale legs look like sticks. The scratchy sweater strains across my chest, stretching the bold lettering.

“Eeee!” Tiffany says, peeking into my room.

I cover my chest. “It’s kind of tight,” I say.

Tiffany lifts an eyebrow. “The Kappas won’t think so.”

I take another look in the mirror and imagine my hair in pigtails and white bobby socks with white sneakers on my feet, but the whole thing feels wrong. I wonder if I dress peppy, will I feel peppy?

Brian encouraged me to “discover my sexuality.” Is this an example? Maybe it’s time I stop hiding. If Brian liked my body, maybe other boys will too.

“All right,” I sigh, though my belly stirs with an uneasy feeling. I tell myself I’m just not comfortable with this new way of thinking yet.

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