Filed to story: The One That Got Away
I know I’ve succeeded when he says, his face sour, “What would you know about love, Bella? You’ve never even had a boyfriend before.”
I’m tempted to make up someone, a boy from camp, from another town, from anywhere. His name is Clint is on the tip of my tongue. But it would be too humiliating, because he’d know I was lying; I already told him I never dated anybody before. And even if I hadn’t, it is far more pathetic to make up a boyfriend than to just admit the truth. “No, I’ve never had a boyfriend. But plenty of people I know have had boyfriends but they’ve never once been in love. I’ve been in love.” That’s why I’m doing this.
Louis snorts. “With who? Josh Sanderson? That tool?”
“He’s not a tool,” I say, frowning at him. “You don’t even know him to say that.”
“Anybody with one eye and half a brain could tell what a tool that guy is.”
“Are you saying my sister’s blind and brainless?” I demand. If he says one bad word about my sister, that’s it. This whole thing is off. I don’t need him that badly.
Louis laughs. “No. I’m saying you are!”
“You know what? I changed my mind. You’ve obviously never loved anyone but yourself.” I try to jerk the passenger door open, but it’s locked.
“Bella, I was just kidding. Come on.”
“See you on Monday.”
“Wait, wait. First tell me something.” Louis leans back in his seat. “How come you never dated anybody?”
I shrug. “I don’t know … because nobody ever asked?”
“Bullshit. I know for a fact that Martinez asked you to homecoming and you said no.”
I’m surprised he knows about that. “What is it with you guys all calling each other by your last name?” I ask him. “It’s so-” I struggle to find the right word. “Effected? Affected?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I guess I said no because I was scared.” I stare out the window and run my finger along the glass, making an M for Martinez.
“Of Tommy?”
“No. I like Tommy. It’s not that. It’s scary when it’s real. When it’s not just thinking about a person, but, like, having a real live person in front of you, with, like, expectations. And wants.” I finally look at Louis, and I’m surprised by how hard he’s paying attention; his eyes are intent and focused on me like he’s actually interested in what I’m saying. “Even when I liked a boy so much, loved him even, I would always rather be with my sisters, because that’s where I belong.”
“Wait. What about right now?”
“Right now? Well, I don’t like you that way so…”
“Good,” Louis says. “Don’t go falling for me again, OK? I can’t have any more girls in love with me. It’s exhausting.”
I laugh out loud. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“I’m kidding,” he protests, but he’s not. “What did you ever see in me anyway?” He grins at me then, cocky again and so sure of his charm.
“Honestly? I really couldn’t tell you.”
The grin falters and then rights itself, but now it’s not so certain. “You said it was because I make people feel special. You … you said it was because I was a good dancer and I was science partners with Jeffrey Suttleman!”
“Wow, you really memorized every single word of that letter, huh?” I tease. It gives me a small, mean surge of satisfaction to see Louis’s grin fade completely. That surge is immediately followed by remorse, because now I’ve hurt his feelings for no good reason. What is it in me that wants to hurt Louis Kavinsky’s feelings? To make it better, I quickly add, “No, it’s true – you really did have something about you then.”
I guess I made it worse, because he flinches.
I don’t know what else to say, so I open the car door and climb out. “Thanks for the ride, Louis.”
When I get inside the house, I go look in the kitchen first to check on the cupcakes. They’re packed away in Tupperware and my cupcake carrier. The frosting’s a little messy and the sprinkles are haphazard, but overall they look pretty good. That’s a relief. Kitty won’t be shamed at the PTA bake sale on my account, at least!
From: Alice Rupert mcovey@st-andrews.ac.uk
To: Bella Rupert larajeansong@gmail.com
How’s school going so far? Have you joined any new clubs? I think you should consider Lit Mag or Model UN. Also don’t forget it’s Korean Thanksgiving this week and you have to call Grandma or she’ll be mad! Miss you guys.
PS Please send Oreos! I miss our dunk contests.
Love, M
From: Bella Rupert larajeansong@gmail.com
To: Alice Rupert mcovey@st-andrews.ac.uk
School is good. No new clubs yet, but we’ll see. I already have it down in my planner to call Grandma. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ve got everything under control here!
xx
Louis’s mom owns an antique store called Linden & White in the cobblestoney part of downtown. She sells furniture mostly, but she has jewellery cases too, arranged by decades. My favourite decade is the aughts, which means the 1900s. There’s this one gold heart locket with a tiny diamond chip in the centre; it looks like a starburst. It costs four hundred dollars. The store is right next to McCalls bookstore, so I go in sometimes and visit it. I always expect it to be gone, but then it never is.
We once bought our mom a gold clover pin from the 1940s for Mother’s Day. Alice and I ran a lemonade stand every Saturday for a month, and we were able to chip in sixteen dollars for it. I remember how proud we were when we presented Daddy with the money, we had it nice and neat in a ziplock bag. At the time I thought we were paying the lion’s share and my dad was only helping out a little. I realize now that the pin cost a lot more than sixteen dollars. I should ask Daddy how much it really cost. But then maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe it’s nicer not knowing. We buried her with it because it was her favourite.
I’m standing over the case, touching my finger to the glass, when Louis comes out from around back. “Hey,” he says, surprised.
“Hey,” I say. “What are you doing here?”