Page 26 of Stops Along the Way
“Well, thank you, because it made the other eighth graders think I was cooler than I actually was.”
I reach out and wrap my hands around his wrist, pulling him toward me. “You should’ve told me. That’s hilarious.”
“Hilarious because?” He averts his eyes, staring down at how I’m holding his arm.
I recoil, pulling my hands back into my own lap. This is my chance to deny the crush allegations, but maybe a denial wouldn’t be entirely accurate after all?
Like somehow the total tally of my interactions with Declan has led to this one specific moment where I need to choose to deny or confess or…
Or what I end up saying, which is, “Because I had a fake boyfriend and didn’t even know it.”
He laughs, looking away. “Apparently not.”
“But,” I say slowly, watching him now cling to my every word while my own brain spins, “you’re telling me now?”
“I thought it would be funny to mention.” He’s looking at me as if waiting for me to say something more concrete.
We’re at a stalemate.
I can’t possibly make this question any clearer, can I? I bring my hands together, laced underneath my chin. A journalist preparing to ask the most revealing question. “And is there a reason you wanted to mention it?”
He opens his mouth to say something, then closes his lips, only to try again. “Because I—”
“Iris.” Amelia bounds into the common room. “You gave me a heart attack when I couldn’t find you,” she says, gesturing back to the dorm.
“It was loud,” I say, turning over the back of the couch and away from Declan. “Are you ready to call it?” I ask her.
“Yeah, early drive tomorrow,” my sister says, waving goodbye to Declan. “Good luck getting any sleep over there tonight.”
He nods. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we’re up and ready by nine.”
“It doesn’t have to be, like, exactly nine,” Amelia says, trying to be more casual than she actually is. “But not too late.”
Unprompted, across the hall, Grady jumps onto one of the mattresses. “Hey, I love you all, but we gotta move the party. Keep in touch and I’ll catch you next year. Go Birds!”
There are a fewwoot-woots in reply, and though it takes a few minutes, the room actually empties out. Grady walks over into the common room with a wide smile. “Early morning tomorrow,” he says to Amelia.
Amelia isn’t that impressed by his theatrics but gives a polite grin.
Grady points toward Amelia with an eager click of his teeth. “I’m going to set the alarm right now.” He holds up his phone but accidentally clicks the calculator app first. “Whoops, just doing some quick math.”
My sister gives a halfhearted laugh. Though I doubt she caught the visual gag, she could obviously pick it up from context. “Okay, see you both tomorrow,” she says, giving a small wave with her lanyard of keys in hand.
I follow Amelia out the common room door, feeling Declan’s gaze before I glance over my shoulder. Our eyes lock, whatever words he was about to say lost on his lips.
Chapter Eight
Last night already feels like a hazy memory. An evening plucked from the near future, if it’s any indication of how I’ll spend my time at college this fall. When I think too clearly about what next year could look like, it makes my stomach twist with anticipation.
Yet right now reality hits hard in the bright sunlight peeking out from the clouds as I stand in front of Franklin Hall with a cart full of my sister’s stuff, waiting for Amelia to pull around with the car. Any bravery I summoned yesterday to question how I feel about Declan has already evaporated with the morning dew.
We load the suitcases into the trunk first, then shove all the garbage bags of extra stuff around them, putting the pillows in the back seat, along with our bags for tonight.
“Did you want to leave anything behind in storage for next year?” I ask, almost as an afterthought, when we look at everything squared away.
“I thought about it,” Amelia says, reaching forward to readjust a bag so it won’t get caught as she slams the trunk closed. “But I want to sort through everything at home and fly back next year with only the stuff I need. I packed way too much for this year.” She turns this into preachy older sister advice. “Honestly, whatever you pack, cut it in half and only take main essentials. You’ll accumulate so much stuff throughout the year. Just the free T-shirts alone…”
“That’s months away. I haven’t even thought about packing yet.” I turn and glance down the road toward Delancey Hall. “What time is it?”
