“No!” the girl says, like I’ve just threatened to call the police. “It’s just…I’m not here officially. Actually, my parents don’t even know I’m doing this. They just told me we’re moving here, and I…I wanted to see it and decide whether I should be freaking out or not.”
Oh, you’re definitely freaking out, I think. But I don’t say that, because it will only freak her out more. Instead, I say, “That makes sense. So you’re cutting school in order to check school out?”
“Exactly.”
“What year are you?”
“A junior.”
That’s funny—she seems like a freshman. But if she’s a junior, I figure there’s nothing wrong with her tagging along with me today. I can pretend I’m Tiffany Chase for a few hours. It’ll give me something to think about besides Justin.
“So am I,” I tell her. “Let’s see if we can pull this off. Do you want to come around with me today?”
“I’d love that.” She seems genuinely excited. It’s a good reminder that sometimes it’s easy to make someone happy.
Maybe it’s easier with strangers. I’m not sure.
Maybe it’s easier with someone who isn’t asking you for something.
The girl’s name is Amy, and it’s almost funny how easily she fits in with my friends. I’d be awful at meeting so many new people at once. But she gets it.
Tiffany Chase sees me showing her around and looks pissed.
“What’s her problem?” Amy asks.
“She usually gets first dibs on being tour guide,” I say.
“I like this version better.”
I know I shouldn’t really take satisfaction from that, but I do. Like I’m so desperate to be good at something that I’ll take whatever I can get.
I do not share this thought with Amy.
I don’t see Justin at our usual time and place between first and second period, but he’s there unexpectedly between second and third. I wonder if he went out of his way to make up for it. We don’t have a chance to talk or anything, but at least I get to see him, and I get to see that he doesn’t look too angry.
In math class, Amy starts passing me notes.
At first, I figure she just has a question. Or maybe she’s telling me she’s had enough and she’s going to leave next period. But instead it’s…chatty. Telling me that class here is just as boring as class back at her real school. Asking me where I got my skirt and whether there are any boys I like and if I think there are any boys she would like.
We go back and forth like this a few times. She picks up almost immediately on some of Ms. Frasier’s mannerisms, and is pretty good at making fun of them. (She talks like a nun, but instead of God, she’s talking about trigonometry. I wonder what her habit looks like. A rhombus?)
I’m having fun, but it’s also making me a little sad, because it’s making me realize that I haven’t really made a new friend since I started dating Justin. It’s like since he and I have been together, I’ve only seen the same people, and less of them. I need this new girl to come out of nowhere in order to have someone to pass notes with.
She comes with me to lunch—we put our stuff down at the table, and Preston goes crazy about all the buttons on her bag, asking her all these questions about Japanese comics. Amy seems flustered, and I’m hoping that Preston is showing his big gay self enough that she doesn’t think he’s flirting.
When Justin gets to the table, I notice he’s got something on his mind. I introduce him to Amy and he gives her the Justin nod. Then he tells me he left his wallet at home. I say it’s not a problem and ask him what he wants. He says French fries, but I get him a cheeseburger, too. When I hand them over, he thanks me, and I know he means it.
Even with Amy there, it feels like we’re all falling into our usual lunchtime routine. Preston asks her about another comic thing, but instead of answering, she turns to me and asks me how far it takes to get to the ocean from here.
The word ocean makes me look at Justin, but it’s like he hasn’t heard, like his mind is stuck on cheeseburger.
“It’s so funny you should say that,” I tell Amy. “We were just there the other day. It took about an hour or so.”
Justin is next to Amy, across from me. She turns her head and asks him, “Did you have a good time?”
He doesn’t seem to have heard, so I say, “It was amazing.”
“Did you drive?” she asks Justin.
This time he hears her.
“Yes, I drove,” he says.
“We had such a great time,” I chime in. And by saying that, I get to hold on to it a little longer. It’s like Justin and I have this secret, and it’s sitting there in front of everyone else, but nobody else can see it. Neither of us is going to point it out. It remains ours. Only ours.
I don’t mind that.
I can tell Amy wants to ask more. I remind myself that she’s not a new friend; she’s just a visitor. She’s only here for today.
Justin, meanwhile, has gone back to eating. He has nothing more to say about the thing that means so much to me.
Amy shadows me for the rest of the day, and keeps as quiet as a shadow. I imagine what it must be like, to look into the future and see yourself living in a new place. I’ve never done that. I’ve always been here, anchored by parents who never search out change, accompanied by all the other people who fear they’ll never leave. For so many years, the idea of living somewhere else was about the same to me as the idea of living in a fairy-tale kingdom. There were places that existed as stories and places that existed as life, and I was taught to never confuse the two. It wasn’t until Justin and I became a real couple and my sister left town that I started to wonder not only about what came next, but where. I don’t want to picture us doing the same things in the same place ten years—or even two years—from now. But when I try to picture us anywhere else, it’s hard to do. We both like to pull at the anchor, but the anchor is pretty strong.