Page 33 of Love at Full Tilt

I move to the opposite side of the table so we’re face to face. A large Bunsen burner and a two-tiered rack of test tubes stand between us. “Of course.”

“I’ve been trying to find the right time all week.” She’s squeezing her eyes closed like we’ve reached the top of a roller coaster’s tallest hill. I don’t think she realizes I spoke. “But we’re never alone, or things are tense, and I promised myself I’d do this before we leave.”

“Do what?” I ask.

Issy lets go of the lab table to cross her arms. Her index finger bounces against her elbow. “I’m…I don’t…I’m aromantic.” She huffs the last two words out in one breath. Her knuckles blanch as her fingers clench. “And maybe asexual too. I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.”

She watches me carefully, looking scared. As if I might judge her or something.

As if it were possible to see Issy as anything but amazing.

I bump her wrist with my hand gently. “Thank you for trusting me with that.”

Her face relaxes a little. “I know you’re still figuring it all outtoo.”

“I have literally nothing figured out.”

We both laugh.

Issy closes her eyes again for a second and takes a deep breath. “Now I need to tell Tess before we’re stuck together in a tiny dorm room. The last thing I want is her bringing home a new potential guy for me from every frat party she attends.”

“Oh God. Could you imagine? Your very own collegiate version of The Bachelorette. ”

Issy cringes. “I would die.”

I stare at the doorway. “Tess always seems to take the longest to adjust to new things, huh?”

Issy frowns. “It’s not really a new thing, though. This has always been me, even if I didn’t have the words for it for a long time.”

I wince. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine. You’re pretty good at letting people be themselves, Lia. Tess is…well…”

“Not?” I offer.

“We’re talking about the person who put cat ears on her dog and refused to accept that Jellybean was a Jack Russell for twoyears.”

When Tess decides something about you, there’s no changing her mind.

“Lately, she feels this need to set me up every time she’s in a new relationship.

Like she can’t do anything by herself.” Issy picks up her phone and idly moves her index finger across the screen.

When I don’t say anything, she clears her throat.

“You know, Tío found me crying after the Valentine’s Day dance in seventh grade. ”

“The one where Tess kissed Carly Snow?”

Issy nods. “And you had your first real slow dance with Dan.”

“And everyone was trying to get you to go out with Jason Moreno.”

She rolls her eyes. “Even back then, when it was only holding hands and texting and writing each other’s names on our notebooks and saying we were together—whatever that means when you’re thirteen—I didn’t want it.

And I thought that meant I was broken. It was Valentine’s Day and everyone else was pairing up.

The whole world tells us we’re supposed to want to be with someone.

” She swallows, her long neck tense with the movement.

“And I think, because everyone thinks I’m pretty, it means I’m supposed to want to be wanted or whatever. But I don’t.”

Her words strike me. Suddenly I remember all the times Issy has been whistled at or people have practically snapped their necks looking at her.

All the guys who tell her to smile. All the servers at restaurants who have left phone numbers on our checks.

How awful that attention must have made Issy feel when she didn’t want any of it.

And she never told us. Not once. The realization carves a hole through my center.

She offers a sad half smile, like she can read my thoughts.

“When I told Tío why I was crying, he said that maybe I simply hadn’t found the right person yet.

And it was like something exploded in my body.

I knew in a way I’d never really known anything, that no, that wasn’t it.

And when I told him, he kissed me on the head and said, ‘That’s okay, too.

’ That was the first time I found any peace with these feelings. ”

A tear drips from her cheek. I circle the table so I can carefully nudge her shoulder with mine.

She does the same back, then puts a little distance between us.

Because Issy likes her space. She needs it like my mom needs lists.

Like I gulp air sometimes when I’m feeling smothered.

I hope Tess remembers that when she and Issy are roommates.

“Do you know much about what’s going on with Tess and her dad lately?” I ask. I can’t help but wonder if that has something to do with her obsessive planning.

Issy shakes her head. “She doesn’t talk about him much since the divorce. Why?”

I chew on my lip for a moment. A few months ago, Tess had asked me to take a trip with her to visit her dad’s new house, about an hour away.

She wouldn’t tell me why she needed to go or let me go inside with her when we got there.

After about ten minutes, she’d come running back out, her face blotchy and stained with tears.

She’d refused to explain what had happened and made me swear I would keep our trip a secret.

But now, as I stare at Issy’s worried expression, I wonder if it’s no longer a secret worth keeping. Sometimes the best way to be a friend is to break a promise.

“She asked me to take a ride with her to go see him a while ago. I don’t know what they talked about, but when she got back to the car, she was clearly upset.”

“When was that?”

“Just before Christmas.” I swallow hard. “And it feels like she’s been—”

“So much worse since then.”

I nod.

“Damn it, Tess.” Issy pushes away from the lab table. “I wish she didn’t lock up like a vault whenever something is actually going on with her.”

“Let’s go find her. Otherwise, she’s liable to schedule the next ten years of our lives for us.”

Issy lets out a loud laugh. “Lia,” she says when she catches her breath, “do you have any idea how much I’m going to miss you next year?”

I lock arms with her and we head for the exit. “If it’s anywhere near as close to how much I’m going to miss you, I do.”