Let Me List the Ways Page 6

  Nighttime snacks were a little harder to choose. I would have gone with a bowl of cereal, but the milk and sugary flakes are hard to measure perfectly and I was convinced that there were somehow these sneaky carbs that hid in there and would make me go high all night. I decided to slice an apple and eat a few pieces without giving myself any insulin so my blood sugar wouldn’t drop too low while I slept. I was two small slices in when my phone vibrated again.

  NOLAN: Are you up?

  ME: Kitchen.

  NOLAN: I’ll be over in ten.

  ME: Ok.

  I unlocked the back door just as I heard a car pull up in his driveway. I stood almost completely still, as if they could see through the walls and find me in the kitchen with half an apple slice hanging from my mouth. The car wasn’t there long before pulling away and I waited for Nolan to come over, but he didn’t. I watched the clock on my phone, wondering if maybe he’d forgotten about me.

  Finally, I decided he was just drunk and I needed to head to bed. I was reaching for the lock on the back door when Nolan pushed the door open and peeked inside. His hair was wet from a shower and he smelled fresh and clean.

  “Hey.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Hey.” I moved out of the way and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

  “We had a class with Jude last year, right? Science? And you have a class with him this year too?” He turned to look at me, and his dark lashes framed his big eyes that I knew by heart were blue even though it was impossible to make out the color in the faint light from the back porch. I wasn’t sure why we were talking about Jude. I wondered if this was what it felt like when I asked him about the girls he talked to. I’d done it so many times over the years that it felt odd to be on the other end of the conversation.

  I nodded and looked down at my feet. “He asked me out for Friday.” The words seemed to rush from my mouth on a burst of air, and I waited for them to settle between us. I had never shied away from telling Nolan about crushes I’d had, mostly on movie stars, but this felt different. This was the first time I had ever agreed to go out with someone before.

  Nolan didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to breathe, just stood like a statue, watching the side of my face as I stared down at my feet. I wanted him to say something, and I could swear I heard the loud tick of minutes as he stood silent. Finally he smiled and shifted his weight. “That’s great. I think it’s good you’re going out, Zie.”

  I didn’t know that it was possible to feel relief and disappointment at the same time until that moment. On the one hand, my conversation with Jude hadn’t miraculously erased my feelings for Nolan, so it stung to see that he was happy I was going out with someone else. On the other, I had felt a real connection with Jude when we were talking earlier, and I was glad that my best friend approved of him. Still, the whole conversation didn’t quite feel right. I wasn’t sure if it was because we’d never had one like it before, or if I was just nervous and overthinking everything.

  I cleared my throat and stood up, turning so I could face him. “How much have you had to drink tonight?” It was weird being in that position, the one where I was taking care of him while he was impaired instead of him taking care of me. I never drank, but there had been a handful of times when my blood sugar dropped very low so fast I needed his help. I’d been diabetic for so long sometimes I suffered from hypoglycemic unawareness and I wouldn’t realize my blood sugar was dropping until it was already very low.

  “Not too much.” He stood too, pushing himself off the counter. “I guess I should go home. It’s getting late.” He tapped my nose with his finger. “Although I like that you’re taking care of me.” He motioned between us with his finger.

  I couldn’t help a small chuckle. “I was just about to say I was enjoying this.” I used his trademark move, tapping my finger on his nose this time.

  “Are you nervous about going on a date?” he asked.

  “A little, I guess. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.” I brushed my bangs from my eyes and sighed.

  “What do you mean?” When I didn’t answer right away, he reached over and gave my hair a small tug just like when we were little and I didn’t do what he wanted. I laughed and swatted at his hand.

  With a big yawn, I answered, “I haven’t even kissed a boy, Nolan.”

  “Why not?” I was aware he already knew that I had no experience in anything boy, but we never talked about my love life so I guess it was a fair question for him to ask. I shifted a little uncomfortably.

  “I guess I just had an idea in my head of what it would be like and reality hasn’t measured up yet.” It was the truth. I may have left the part out where I admitted that I pictured my first kiss being with him, but he was drunk, not me. I knew better than to say something like that and make everything awkward between us. Instead I just pushed his shoulder and told him, “You better go home. You’re about to miss curfew.”

  Eleven

  BY WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON I couldn’t think of my date with Jude without becoming a ball of nerves. Every time we passed in the halls, Jude would give me an adorable smile, and we had been texting pretty constantly, talking about everything from the road trip he was planning with his cousin this summer to how I should do a piece for the school paper about the mystery meat our cafeteria used (I was firmly against that idea). But as easy as it was talking to him over text, I was still terrified that I would do something horribly embarrassing on our date. And, though I hated to admit it, I was worried that my feelings for Nolan would get in the way.

  I was sitting in sixth period, watching Mrs. Parker as she drew some sort of crazy diagram on the board at the front of the class and running through possible topics of conversation in case Jude and I ran out of things to say to each other on Friday, when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  I quickly stopped the buzzing and tucked the phone beneath the desk to hide it from her view. It didn’t really matter; she was known for getting so wrapped up in her lectures that she never paid much attention to any of the students.

  NOLAN: Are you coming to my game tonight?

  ME: I’m sitting right next to you. Why are we texting?

  NOLAN: Because Fiona is a nosy chick who will listen to our deepest secrets.

  I glanced at him and he raised an eyebrow. From just over his shoulder I saw Fiona craning her neck to see what we were doing. I bit back a smile and quickly tapped out a response.

  ME: You have deep secrets I don’t know about?

  NOLAN: Just one. Answer my question.

  ME: Yes. I’ll be at your game. My parents are coming.

  NOLAN: Sweet. Do you think her neck hurts yet?

  I glanced up again, and sure enough she was trying so hard to see what he was typing that she looked like she was about to fall out of her seat.

  ME: For sure.

  NOLAN: Erin is going too. Maybe you guys could sit together. It’ll be the first one she’s gone to.

  I froze for a second, unsure how to respond. As a best friend, I should be totally excited about an open invitation to make friends with his girlfriend . . . wait, was she his girlfriend?

  ME: You guys getting pretty serious?

  NOLAN: Define serious.

  ME: Never mind. Not my business.

  NOLAN: Everything’s your business. Define serious.

  ME: I don’t even know. You’re talking to the girl who’s going on her first date Friday.

  When a response didn’t come right away, I chanced a glance at him. He was staring down at his phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. Finally, three tiny dots appeared, chasing each other in our text thread, letting me know he was typing a response.

  NOLAN: First date. I never really thought about that. Crazy. Anyway, back to the definition.

  ME: Crazy indeed. The definition of serious? I don’t know. Would you say that she’s your girlfriend?

  NOLAN: No. She isn’t my girlfriend. We haven’t updated social media statuses or a
nything like that.

  ME: So you define serious as a public announcement on social media?

  His response took a while. I stole a glance at him as the teacher lectured. He stared down at his phone as if he was deep in thought. Finally the conversation bubble popped up on my screen.

  NOLAN: The social media status update is probably a result of a conversation in the relationship. Erin and I have not agreed to be exclusive. I don’t ask her who she’s talking to and I don’t assume because she and I are spending time together I’m not free to talk to other girls if I wanted to.

  ME: You aren’t bringing other girls to your baseball games.

  Maybe they weren’t saying it, but his behavior was definitely showing me that he was getting more serious about her.

  NOLAN: True. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it like that.

  I moved to tuck my phone away, thinking our conversation was over, but it buzzed in my hand.

  NOLAN: Are you excited about your date with Jude?

  My heart began to race as I read the words on my screen. So many things were changing and I couldn’t help but think it was all happening too fast. My stomach felt unsettled and I noticed a headache starting to build behind my eyes.

  ME: Yes. I’m nervous too. I’m worried I’ll be awkward.

  NOLAN: You’re not awkward and you guys looked like you were having a good time together at the bonfire.

  I read his words, and while I knew he was being supportive and saying all the right things, I felt irritable. I couldn’t explain to him why I was so nervous about the date, and my feelings for Nolan seemed almost burdensome as I tried to make sense of all my emotions. The teacher’s voice droned on in the background and I gave up, typing out a quick response and resting my chin on my hand when my headache grew more insistent.

  ME: I guess you’re right.

  The bell rang loud and startled me a little in my seat. I gathered up my notes, which were actually just a few doodles I’d made at the beginning of the lecture. Shoving everything into my backpack, I waited for Nolan to make his way over to me. He wiped a drop of sweat from my forehead with his thumb and then reached for my bag. “You don’t look so good.”

  “Thanks, Nolan,” I replied sarcastically, and handed him my bag.

  “I bet it was that stupid pasta you ate for lunch. You know those carbs sneak up on you. Want to check yourself before we head out to my truck?” He set my bag on the desk and waited for me to respond. He knew better than to be pushy with me. I could take a little nudge, but pushing me to check myself never ended well, especially when my blood sugar was high.

  “I don’t really feel so good,” I admitted. My skin grew warmer suddenly, as if just his mentioning my blood sugar had made it skyrocket. “I think I should check it now.” He only nodded and unzipped my bag to retrieve my kit. The kids in the class paid no attention to us, packing up their belongings and rushing for the door. I was moving slowly, so Nolan helped open the strips container and held it so I could pull one out. I slipped it into the meter.

  I wiped the alcohol over my fingertip. The lancet pierced my skin and a drop of blood pooled easily on the tip. I closed my eyes for a second, the headache pounding now and the nausea building in my gut. When I opened them I looked at Nolan; his brows were pinched in worry. “Zie, you’re four thirty. It says you don’t have any insulin on board.”

  “Okay,” I said, twisting my hair up off my neck to cool myself down. Lunch was a few hours ago, and while I’d covered myself for what I thought the pasta contained, I was off, and now none of the insulin I’d given myself was still in my bloodstream. Nolan’s fingers moved quickly, setting up the amount of insulin I’d need to get my number back down.

  “Is this okay?” he asked, showing me what the pump recommended. I nodded and he quickly pressed the button to administer the insulin.

  Nolan tucked my supplies back into my kit and zipped it up in my backpack. Neither of us said anything about what had just happened. As much as it sucked when my blood sugar got out of whack, and as infrequently as it happened now, we had both had enough experience dealing with situations like this that it usually didn’t faze us.

  We walked out of the classroom and down to our lockers and then out to the parking lot. At his truck, he opened the passenger door, and I climbed inside while he threw our bags into the back. I wasn’t sure how to bring the topic up again, but with the fog clearing in my head I realized I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to call Erin if my parents wanted me to introduce her to them. It would be so awkward. I rolled down my window so the air could help cool my hot skin and decided I needed to bring the topic back up.

  “So should I introduce Erin to my parents as your friend?” My hair whipped around my face and I struggled to tuck it back behind my ears. My hair ties were all in my backpack in the bed of the truck. Nolan chuckled at me and lifted the folded-down seat between us, producing a hair tie from a small compartment.

  “You left it in here after the beach.” He handed it to me and put his hand back on the steering wheel. “Maybe it would be best just to leave a title out of it.”

  “Sure, because that’s not awkward and our moms will totally just roll with it,” I returned sarcastically with a pointed look and a small chuckle.

  He thought about it for a minute as we drove along, finally drawing in a big breath and shrugging. “Just say she’s my friend. It’s the truth. I didn’t give her any kind of title when I introduced her to my parents.”

  “You don’t think that will cause trouble between you guys or make her think I’m trying to put her in that category?” I twisted my hair up and out of my face. I could watch him then as he kept his eyes on the road, rubbing his free hand over his lips a few times.

  “Why would it cause a problem between you and her?” He looked at me for a second and then back to the road.

  “If I was sort of serious with you,” I started, and he laughed at my choice of words, “and your best girl friend introduced me as just a friend, I might think she was not being respectful of what we were.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” His voice was contemplative, and he turned to look at me when we reached a red light. I wasn’t expecting such a quick agreement with my line of thinking, so it took me by surprise. We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, but so many thoughts were racing through my head I had to look away.

  He’d already introduced her to his parents and had invited her to his baseball game. Those weren’t steps he’d taken with a girl in a long time. It was starting to have all the potential of a serious relationship, even without the title. I couldn’t figure out what was holding him back. I knew he’d mentioned the freedom to talk to other girls, but he wasn’t doing that, so why was that important to him? Finally I decided I’d just ask the question I couldn’t figure out the answer to on my own.

  “Why isn’t she your girlfriend?”

  He reached down and pushed the blinker lever so that the cab filled with a ticking sound. He turned to face me as we waited for the light to change. I could tell he was holding something back and anger began to spread through me. I thought we weren’t supposed to have secrets from each other, but he was keeping something from me. I knew I was being a hypocrite because I had my secret as well, but I still felt justified in being seriously annoyed with his little secret.

  Finally, when I thought I’d have to pull it out of him, his mouth flattened out and his eyes took on a serious cast. “Because she doesn’t like how close I am to you.”

  “What did she say? Did she ask you to stop being my friend?” Could she really think we’d stop being friends?

  “She asked me what exactly my relationship with you meant.” We pulled into his driveway and he killed the engine, our windows rolling up as we unfastened our seat belts.

  “And?” I asked, turning my body completely so I could face him. I don’t think I’d ever wanted to hear an answer that bad in my life.

  “I told her, ‘Everything.’” His smile stay
ed on his lips for the briefest of seconds and then dipped into something much more morose. My heart, which had been bursting with excitement and validation, suddenly stuttered under the expression on his face.

  “She still wanted to be with you, then, even if we’re going to stay as close?”

  He shrugged a little and then opened his door, stepping down to the ground before staring back up at me.

  “Then she asked me what your and my romantic relationship was.” I waited at the edge of my seat, praying that something had changed and he’d told her so. I wanted him to say that he told her he liked me and that’s why they weren’t going to be serious, but I knew something wasn’t adding up. He couldn’t have said such a thing and have her still wanting to be with him in some way. I reached for the handle of my door but kept my eyes focused on his.

  “What did you say?” I asked in a voice much more steady than I was feeling inside, especially since I couldn’t read the expression on his face.

  He gave a little shrug. “I told her it’s nothing. We’re only friends.”

  Twelve

  I HEARD MY mom yelp downstairs and shook my head, knowing that Nolan had gotten her again. It only took a few seconds for him to get up the stairs and knock on my door. It cracked open at his first rap, and he pushed it open a little wider, peeking inside. “Zie?”

  “What if I wasn’t dressed?” I teased. He slipped inside and moved to sit on my bed. I loved seeing him in his baseball uniform. The dark blue jersey and tight gray pants perfectly showcased his defined muscles. No girl could argue that baseball pants weren’t one of the top ten inventions in men’s fashion. In a move that made my heart beat quickly, he twisted his baseball cap backward so he could see me better. I watched his bicep flex and the muscles of his forearm bulge slightly with the movement.

  “You would never change without locking your door. You’re the most modest girl I know.” He leaned back on the palms of his hands and looked me in the eyes. He was right. I’d never change if there was a possibility that someone might see me.