Let Me List the Ways Page 9

  Breathless, he pulled away, and I tried hard to open my eyes, which were heavy with lust and euphoria. His hand slowly left my face and I felt my chest rising and falling with the deep breaths I was pulling in. My heart was pounding so quickly that I could almost hear my pulse in my ears. I thought that I should say something, but wasn’t sure what that something was. I waited, hoping he didn’t regret what had just happened.

  I watched so many emotions pass behind his eyes. Inside I was hoping that kiss had meant as much to him as it had meant to me. Maybe it hadn’t been his intention, but I couldn’t imagine he hadn’t felt it the way I had.

  Finally he spoke, his voice thick and tight. “Now you don’t have to worry so much about your first kiss.” The words were a whisper between us. I felt the emotion rise up in my throat and worried it would all spill out in a mess of admissions I wasn’t ready to give him yet. He was waiting for me to say something, and I couldn’t get past how happy and hopeful I’d been a few minutes ago and how devastated I felt as I looked at him and realized that he wasn’t about to make some grand declaration of love for me.

  “Thanks” was all I could manage. I thought for a second he looked disappointed too, but his face quickly changed and he moved away from me and out of the hot tub. I followed him out in silence and wrapped my towel around me. It felt awful and painful and oh so confusing. I grabbed my pump and kit and Nolan grabbed his towel and slipped his finger beneath the straps of his flip-flops. The music fell silent as I shut down my playlist. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I managed to say, pushing past the tightness in my chest and throat. He didn’t answer; he just stood there watching me leave.

  I felt the first tear when I reached the gate and hurried to open the latch. “Zie?” he called to me. I didn’t turn around but I stopped fiddling with the stupid gate latch. He took my pause as a sign to continue. “I was wrong.” The sharpest pain shot through my heart at that exact moment, and I worried I would crumble right there in his yard. Just as I found the strength to unlatch the fence, he said, “You don’t need any more practice kissing.”

  The latch sprang open and I practically fell into my yard. When I turned around, he was gone.

  Fifteen

  THURSDAY MORNING I felt rattled all the way to my bones as I got ready for the day. I couldn’t think about what had happened because every time I remembered any moment from last night, my stomach twisted and my heart raced as if it was happening all over again. Why did I have to crush so hard on my best friend? I felt silly for even letting myself believe in that short moment that he might have shared some of the same feelings I had. That kiss last night might have been my first, but it was just one of many for Nolan.

  Last night as I lay awake in my bed, all I could think about was how hurt I was that our kiss hadn’t mattered to Nolan. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to pretend it didn’t matter to me or if I even could. By morning, though, I had come to the conclusion that I had no other choice if I wanted to keep Nolan as a friend.

  I finished straightening my hair and unplugged the flatiron. I might have even given myself a little pep talk in the mirror about acting normal when I went over to Nolan’s house before school. Before I left my room, I pulled out the small drawer in my desk and found one of the lists we’d written together when we were younger—REASONS WE ARE THE BEST, BEST FRIENDS—and tucked it into my back pocket to remind myself my heartbreak would pass, but my friendship with him would always be there.

  His mother was sitting at the table in their kitchen drinking coffee. I set my bag down near the table. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” she answered. “I heard him up there banging around so I think he might have actually gotten up on time today.” She first blew a tiny puff of air onto the steaming coffee and then took a small sip.

  “How’s his shoulder?”

  “You’ll have to ask him. We were in bed before he came in last night. I’m still hoping he just wasn’t warmed up enough. I’m sick thinking he might have to go through all that again.” She shook her head and set her coffee down. “I’m trying not to hover, but it’s taking all the strength I have.” She smiled tightly at me and reached for the newspaper.

  “You know you can read that on your phone now, right? No more black fingers?” I took a few steps toward the stairs.

  “There’s just something about holding the real thing that makes it better.” She opened the paper and began to read the small black print. I made my way up the stairs and paused outside his room. The door was cracked open, but I didn’t feel like I could just push my way through like I had in the past. I hated that.

  I closed my eyes and steadied my heart rate, then decided I wasn’t going to let anything change what we had. I pushed open his door and was met with the humid heat of a morning shower. “Is that you, Zie?” he yelled from inside the bathroom.

  “Yes,” I answered loudly over the sound of the running water.

  “I’ll be out in a minute.” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. I moved to rest against his desk, but a new set of nearly naked models on his board caught my attention. It made me smile, and of course I went to work on their winter outfits. I leaned back on the edge of the old wooden desk as I cut each girl a full parka, scarf, and rain boots. I heard the shower water shut off and hurried to finish gluing the new outfits on their owners. There weren’t many scraps left to push into his trash can, but you can’t blame me because if it weren’t for me, those poor young ladies would have frozen in those tiny bikinis.

  “Um, a little help in here?” he called from the bathroom. I pushed open the door and found him with the towel wrapped around his waist. He had sweat across his brow and a scowl on his face. I noticed the boxer briefs on the floor and the way they were tangled around his foot. His hand was squeezing his bad shoulder protectively and I knew he was in a world of pain just by the tight, hard features that were now softening into a look of defeat.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I can’t do anything that requires any resistance with my fucking shoulder,” he answered. “Can you,” he started, and then shook his head. His eyes dropped down to the floor to where his boxers were. “Can you please help me get dressed?”

  “Sure. How should I, um, what should . . .” I was stumbling all over my words, not quite sure how I would be able to help him.

  “I’ll move my feet. I just can’t pull them up with one arm.” He dropped his good arm down and gripped his towel where it was tucked at his waist. I squatted down and opened the waist on the boxers as big as I could. He stepped into them, kicking a little to get his foot through the leg hole. I tugged them up, stopping at the bottom of the towel.

  “What are you going to do? Maybe it’s time to go back to the doctor?” I looked up into the reflection of his eyes in the mirror in front of us.

  “I’m going to call him today.” He sighed. “I’ll hang on to my towel if you can pull them up underneath it.”

  I held on to the waist of the boxers on each side and stood up fully, moving them up beneath his damp towel. It took a little maneuvering to get them all the way up, so I kept my eyes turned toward the shower in case the towel curtain failed. He used his good arm to make a few adjustments. When everything was where he wanted it, he pulled the towel from around his waist and stood before me in just his boxers. I tried to look everywhere except where I shouldn’t.

  Next, I grabbed his shorts and held them open for him to step into. I kept my face turned away from his as I shimmied them up his legs. When they were finally around his waist, he tried to button them. His eyes closed as he fumbled with the button, and finally he sighed loudly and reached for his bad shoulder. “It hurts to make even little movements. Dammit.” He tipped his head back and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling as if to ask the heavens why this was happening to him.

  “It’s fine,” I assured him. “I can do it.” I stepped in front of him and took the top of his shorts into my hands, pulling them together to fasten the button.
His head tipped forward again and I could feel him watching my movements. I looked up into his eyes and gave him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay.” My fingers pinched the zipper and I dragged it up to the button. Without waiting for him to direct me, I grabbed his shirt off the sink and rolled the hem up and opened the neck wide.

  “Thank you,” he said softly. I pulled the shirt over his head and down to his shoulders. He easily got his good arm through and then took in a deep breath in anticipation of when we’d have to put his hurt shoulder to work. I pulled it over as far as I could so he didn’t have to manipulate the joint much. I hated seeing the pain on his face as he finally managed to get his arm into the hole. Quickly, I rolled the T-shirt down the rest of the way and then put my hands on my hips and gave him a big grin.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” I teased. I smoothed his shirt over his chest.

  “Think I can shave with my left hand?” he asked, turning his head to see his scruff in the mirror. “It gets itchy if I don’t keep it shaved.” He pulled open a drawer and retrieved his shaving cream and razor. I shrugged.

  “I’ll do it. It can’t be that different from shaving my legs.” With a little reluctance, he handed me the razor. I set it on the counter and shook up the shaving cream. The foam expanded on the palm of my hand just before I rubbed my palms together and then spread the tiny bubbles over his cheeks and chin. He laughed when I wiped the rest of the cream onto his nose.

  The first few strokes of the razor across his skin were nerve-racking. I worried I was pushing down too hard or that I’d cut him as I moved the blades over his jaw. When I didn’t nick him, though, my bravery grew and I slid the razor with ease. He reached behind me and turned on the hot water so I could rinse it. I used the counter as leverage to raise myself up and sit on it. Even with my attention zoned in on his freshly shaven skin, I could feel his eyes on me. I’d be nervous too if he had a sharp object near me.

  I looked into his eyes, and the same thought that had visited my consciousness over the last few years floated in again. I love you. There had been a few times where the thought alone was so powerful it almost left my lips. I knew better then, just like I knew not to let it escape in that moment. Those three words would change things, and even if there was never a doubt in my mind that we could be so wonderful together, I had no idea what was going through his head and heart. His eyes met mine and we seemed to freeze for a minute.

  “We’re going to be late,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It doesn’t really matter.” I dragged the razor down his cheek one last time and then ran it through the water. I shut it off and set the razor on the counter.

  “I’ll wait out there for you,” I said, motioning to his bedroom. “Just call for me if you need anything else.” His eyes dipped down for just a second and then he nodded.

  I sat on the edge of his unmade bed and waited for him to finish up. When he emerged from the bathroom, he headed to his closet and grabbed a pair of shoes. He could probably put them on without much movement to his shoulder, but why take a chance that he’d aggravate the injury any further? I stood and moved to his dresser, opening his sock drawer and finding a pair. He took my place at the edge of his bed.

  “I can do it,” he said. “Just help me get my socks on.”

  “Don’t be silly. You help me all the time. I can tie your shoes once in a while.” I unfolded the socks and pulled them onto his feet. I put one shoe in front of his foot and he slipped it inside. I did the same with the other. My fingers found the ends of the laces and as I began to tie them my hair fell in front of me. His fingers casually tucked it behind my ears from above.

  “Let’s not go to school today.” His words stopped my fingers and I looked up at him. “I can’t carry my bag or use my good hand. Let’s go to breakfast and maybe catch a movie. I’ve got to call the doctor and get an appointment, but it probably won’t be until later this afternoon.”

  We’d done it a handful of times already over the years on days my numbers were off. When I was younger, the school had to keep a nurse on staff to administer insulin. In the state of California, the rules were such that only a trained nurse could do the job. Whenever the nurse was sick or took the day off, I’d usually just stay home so it wouldn’t be a big hassle trying to get someone there to take care of me or have my mother running back and forth to the school to approve the dose. On those days, Nolan would stay home with me too.

  As we grew up, we continued the tradition by taking a few days off here and there to spend them together. We’d hang out, rent movies, and order a pizza, or if we were lucky one of our parents would take us somewhere fun. Now that we were older and could drive ourselves, we’d sometimes stay home and find ways to entertain ourselves, usually by grabbing something to eat and then binge-watching a series on Netflix.

  “Sounds a lot better than school.” I stood up and took a few steps back. His smile was warm and grateful. “Were you thinking Spires or the Pancake House?”

  “Spires,” he answered with a wide grin. There was something about the pale pink booths and the worn green flowery carpet that had always served as a pick-me-up when things weren’t going our way. We’d eaten there after he got his appendix out two years ago and again when he had his shoulder surgery. I’d also needed the homey comfort the morning after Roxie, my Chihuahua, had passed away, and when I didn’t make president of our class freshman year.

  He grabbed his baseball cap off the dresser and left his backpack next to his desk. I followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his mom was still sitting at the table. “Mom, can we ditch today? We want to go to Spires for breakfast and then maybe we’ll catch a movie if we have time before I can get in with the doc.” Nolan grabbed his keys off the counter and tossed them to me.

  “If you’re sure it’s okay with your mom,” she answered, looking at me.

  “I’ll ask,” I promised.

  “Okay. Have a good time. Let me know when the appointment is when you find out.” She gave us a small wave and then returned her attention back to the newspaper. A lot of my friends had to sneak around when they didn’t want to go to school. Nolan and I were lucky our parents didn’t seem to mind a day off here and there as long as it wasn’t abused and we made up all the work.

  On the way to his truck, I shot my mom a quick text asking her if she was okay with our change of plans. She replied that it was okay and to be careful. I opened Nolan’s door for him and he gave me a look that said he wasn’t completely amused with my mothering. Once in the driver’s seat, I tucked my phone away and fired up the engine. The truck was his prized possession and I was pretty sure that the only people besides him who had ever driven it were his dad and me. It was a small club I was very honored to be a part of.

  Sixteen

  NOLAN HELD THE old glass door open with his good arm as an elderly couple made their way into Spires before us. We waited for one of the waitresses to motion for us to seat ourselves and then slid into our usual booth in our favorite waitress’s section. She let us know she saw us as she hurried past with a hot pot of coffee.

  A group of older gentlemen were sitting at a large table made from a few smaller ones all pushed together. There were also four middle-aged men sitting together in a booth across from us. Their Bibles were out and they were discussing passages as they waited for their breakfast. Nolan had chosen correctly. I knew from experience that it was going to be an interesting day to eat there.

  Our waitress flew by our table, dropping off my diet soda and Nolan’s coffee. We didn’t have to tell her our drink orders since we’d come there enough that she knew what we’d want. As I tapped the straw on the table to remove it from its wrapper, the large group of men began to sing. They were a well-practiced men’s choir, and although it wasn’t anything like the music we normally listened to, it would’ve been hard not to enjoy the nostalgic fifties sound. I glanced around and loved seeing the older patrons snapping along or swaying with the
ir music.

  When the song ended, the entire restaurant broke out in applause. The waitresses had continued to scurry around as if a group of men singing in the middle of a restaurant wasn’t anything unusual. Our waitress stopped at our table again to check that we wanted our usual order. We barely had time to agree before she was off to help another table. That’s why she was our favorite.

  It was just past nine when Nolan pulled out his phone and called the doctor’s office. I listened as he made himself a three o’clock appointment. When he finished the call, he set his phone on the table near the napkin dispenser. Instantly the screen lit up with an incoming call. He pressed the button on the side to silence the ringing, but didn’t answer it or send it immediately to voice mail.

  “You can answer it,” I said, putting the straw to my lips for a sip of my soda. I saw that it was Erin, and I didn’t want our breakfast together to cause any trouble between them. I felt guilty suddenly for what had happened last night.

  “Nah, it’s okay.” The screen went dim again. The silence that followed felt miserably awkward. Nolan bent the brim of his cap as if he needed something to do with his hands. He blew out a breath. “Do you think I should tell her?”

  The guilt I felt grew, and I could see how torn up Nolan was about that decision. Even though they weren’t exclusive and clearly the kiss meant nothing to him, it might mean something to her if she found out about it. It could ruin their relationship.

  “I don’t know. I won’t tell anyone. She won’t ever hear about it from me.” I played with my drink as I watched him think about his options.

  “We haven’t said we wouldn’t be with other people, but you’re not just some other person. It took a while to convince her that you and I were just friends, and I think if I were honest with her she wouldn’t trust me anymore. She wouldn’t believe that it was innocent.” He folded his arms tightly across his chest.