She shook her head, her mouth hanging open like a fish sucking air. “You do? How?”
I leaned back against the car next to her, freezing my skin where it met with metal. “Because I’ve done the same exact thing.”
“No way.”
I looked away, toward the frat house where Josh was doing God-knows-what with God-knows-who. “Not my finest moment, but Riley put me back into a tailspin, and Josh . . .”
“OMG! You slept with Josh Walker? Details!”
“No, I did not sleep with him!” A heavy sigh escaped me. I couldn’t blame her for what I’d done, too. “But that’s only because he is a really, really, exceptionally good guy. He knew what I was doing, and he . . . took care of me, watched out for me.”
“I’d like to take care of him,” she muttered.
I smacked the back of her head. “Knock it off. I’m just saying I know what you’re feeling, because I am, too. But you can’t sneak into a strange guy’s bed and sleep around. You’re giving away all these pieces of yourself, and if you don’t stop, there’s not going to be anything left of who you really are.”
She sniffed and rested her head on my shoulder. I leaned my head on top of hers. “April, I’m not perfect. I’m a train wreck, and I have been since long before Dad died. I only stepped up because I was the one who could. Mom wasn’t functioning, and Gus needed someone. You needed someone. I couldn’t let it in, I couldn’t let the pieces fall. I still can’t. Why do you think I’m here, going to this school we both know wasn’t even on my fallback list?”
“I thought you wanted to go to Vanderbilt? Whatever happened to that?”
“I clung to a plan because it made me feel better, a plan that had nothing to do with what I wanted. I let myself get sucked into someone else’s dream. What you call being perfect is actually me treading water with every ounce of strength I have so I don’t drown.”
We stood there quietly for a few moments, both staring up at the crystalline Colorado stars. They were clearer here than at any other duty station we’d been to, and definitely one of my favorite parts of living here. I made out the shape of Orion in the sky and waited for April to speak, content to stay as long as she needed me to.
“I’m kind of glad you’re as much of a mess as I am,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m so much more screwed up than you could ever be, April. But it would really help my shit pile if you could keep yourself together just a little.”
She nodded against my shoulder. “Can we go home?”
“Sounds like a plan. I can’t feel my knees as it is.” We both burst into laughter for a moment before she grasped my hand.
“Thank you for getting the SD card.”
“It was all Josh.” Gus and hockey, April and the card, me and . . . whatever we were doing. One by one, he seemed to be saving every member of my family.
“He’s pretty amazing.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t already know.”
“I wouldn’t mind ‘forgetting’ for a while with him. As a matter of fact, for Josh Walker, I’d consider temporary amnesia.”
I gave her a light push and then hugged her back. “Ugh. No more talking about Josh.”
“Just sayin’, I’ve seen that picture of him on your wall at home. The newspaper clipping from when they won state when you were in high school. You had a huge thing for him.” She tilted her head back at me. “You still do. There’s nothing wrong with getting over Riley, Ember. Or Dad.”
“It’s too soon. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with myself. I can’t bring someone else down with me.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I don’t know.” Panic choked my voice as I realized I’d just shamelessly sent Josh more-than-mixed signals. What the hell was wrong with me?
Sunday afternoon, the doorbell chimed as I walked into my favorite creamery, ready for a fix. I hadn’t seen Josh since Friday, and as hard as I was trying to distance myself and take it slow, I missed him. I’d thought of a dozen reasons to go over to his apartment yesterday, from the mundane, “can I borrow a cup of sugar?” to “our garbage disposal broke.” I’d debated chucking a wrench into it just for the excuse. By this morning, I’d been jonesing for the taste of Josh, so strawberry ice cream, like the night I’d apologized in his apartment, would have to do.
If I hurried, I could grab Gus a cone and get it home before it melted. It was still early enough that Mom wouldn’t flip that I’d spoiled his dinner.
“Next!” the black-aproned attendant called out.
Two scoops of strawberry in a sugar cone and two scoops of mud pie in a waffle cone later, I paid the clerk. Strawberry ice cream filled my mouth, and I smiled. I could almost feel his hands on my face, and his voice in my ear. As I rounded the corner near the register, the rest of the store came into view, and I about choked on my ice cream.
I could hear him laughing from here and the smile that lit up Josh’s face was breathtaking. It was mirrored by the enormous grin on my little brother’s chocolate-covered face as he sat across from him, his arms waving in the air like mad.
“And then guess what? Mrs. Bluster said my volcano was the most awesome volcano she’d ever seen! And then I got to start it up! And then guess what? It exploded!” His hands went wild in animation. “And then everyone’s like, ‘cool!’ but I don’t think Mrs. Bluster thought so. I mean, there was red stuff all over the white board and the floor!”