Page 24

CHAPTER 24

Mei,

It’s Saturday. Ten days since we’ve talked. Tavah’s gonna be here in a few minutes and I feel like I’m cheating on you. Is it possible to cheat on silence? On last week? On a ghost? If so…here goes.

B lue and orange strobe lights flash over our group as we mosh to the music thumping through the speakers. Heat and humidity stick to my neck and I unbutton my collar, then rip off my tux jacket and fling it onto a nearby table. Sweat slides down my temple and my face hurts from smiling, my throat hoarse from laughing and yelling over the music. No one in our group had a drop of alcohol at dinner but we’re wired.

Ty and Raj take turns chest bumping me to the beat and rebel yelling while Tavah and her girls wind around and through us, breathless and laughing with their hands in the air, hips swaying. And, no surprise, Johnny and Sav are tangled together, moving in a slow circle as they make-out. As stupid as it looks and is, I turn my back to them because it hurts like Mei .

The crowd swells and Tavah jostles into me, ripping me out of the Mei moment, and I start jumping again, right in the middle of our group, Tavah in front of me. When the song ends, we stay facing each other, laughing and wiping our foreheads. I laugh down at her, plumping her puffy sleeves like pillows. “Oh no!” I yell over the thumping bass of the next song. “You’re deflated! The 80s are dying!”

She throws her head back and laughs, her hair flying around her face since she danced it out of its clips earlier. I don’t bother backing away as the crowd presses us together. I wanna know what it feels like to be close to this girl who’s a popped bottle of champagne, bubbling and fizzing all over the place.

Her friends wiggle into our space, their neon dresses streaking in the dark, and we all sing along with the song at the top of our lungs, Tavah by far the loudest.

“No way!” I yell down at her, eyebrows raised. “You like this song?”

“Are you kidding?” Her smile explodes in the dark, reflecting pink light. “I LOVE this song. Can’t get tired of it. I’ve tried.” Her face shines with sweat and glitter from the sparkly stuff on her eyelids.

We jump to the beat, bumping against each other and everyone else, and when the song ends and slides into a slow one, I slip my hands around her waist, pull her to me, and lean in. “Slow dance?”

She smiles and nods, pressing her chest to mine as she wraps her arms around my neck. My fingers flex on her waist, sliding a little lower to her hips. Our knees and thighs brush against each other as we sway, her body moving with mine. She rests her chin on my shoulder, and I close my eyes. Mei would have to wear ten-inch heels for her chin to reach my shoulder. I clench my jaw. She’d also have to be here with me so her chin could be on my shoulder. Ten days. No calls, no texts. No late-night video chats. Just nothing but guilt, shame, regret, pain. Unanswered questions.

I lean my head against Tavah’s, and her arms tighten around my neck, her body melting into mine. Her heart pounds against my chest, making me all warm and tingly, but I shift when my ribs complain. Everything about Mei hurts. Everywhere Mei used to be. If Tavah had bodyguards, she’d at least tell me ahead of time and explain exactly why they wanted to whoop me. She’d tell me when so I could prepare. And if Tavah and I had once been together but were over, she’d tell me exactly why. I’d never have to guess. Haven’t had to guess once tonight. She even called me on Monday and asked for my measurements so she could get the perfect baby blue tux and shoes to go with the 80s theme. Told me all the plans. Warned me about the shirt ruffles.

When Audrey came over tonight before Tavah picked me up, she’d stroked with joy when she’d seen my ruffled shirt, then practically chained me to the toilet seat so she could do my hair in a big 80s way. She’d tried to get the details about what was happening with Mei. When I told her we broke up, she asked if I was okay. Told me she was concerned like any loving aunt would be but congratulated me for moving on and not holing up in my room. I avoided her eyes, just in case Meemaw had told her what she walked in on. I’d changed the subject and when Tavah had shown up at The Clubhouse wearing puffy sleeves and equally big hair and earrings, they’d cackled about it all. I’d watched the second girl to ever be inside The Clubhouse and wondered how Audrey and Mei would have gotten along. Doesn’t matter anymore.

Dad had been surprisingly chill about the whole Tavah and prom thing. On the train ride home from Stanford, he’d been distracted by a text that made him oddly hyper, so I’d taken advantage of the moment and told him Tavah had asked me to prom. Maybe should’ve done that when Mei was a thing. No need now. Motorcycle’s mine. Especially since Dad gave me a 2 AM curfew and warned me for the zillionth time that only pregnancy happens after midnight, not motorcycles. In order for that to happen, I’d have to get these pants off and they’re so tight, it would take serious effort from multiple people.

Now that the bass is mellow, I can feel my heart and wanna rip it out and put it in all of Mei’s newfound space instead of having it trapped inside me. Wonder what Mei would think of the lack of space between Tavah and me right now.

If I never hear from her again, will I start something with Tavah? Will I feel the same way I did about Mei? Tavah’s feeling pretty great right now, all silky and tight. She doesn’t fit in the same places Mei does—did—but she fits in others I could definitely get used to. But would I hop a train to go see her at Berkeley? Would she do the same to spend the weekend with me?

Our heads rest against each other, our stomachs moving as we breathe, and when the song fades into another fast one, I pull back. “Gotta pee. Sorry—went a little crazy on the virgin daiquiris at dinner.”

Her hands slide from around my neck and down my shoulders. “’Kay. Probably a good idea for me, too. Lots of jumping.” She smooths her hair and smiles.

We ease apart and Johnny knocks his elbow against mine, whispering, “Gentleman’s room. Now.”

We weave through the crowd toward the door and when a couple of guys from the team yell my name, I stop to talk then catch up with Johnny. A cold rush of dry air washes over us as we step into the hallway and veer into the bathroom.

“Dude.” Johnny unzips his pants and stands at the urinal.

“What?” I step to the one beside his and unzip.

“You and Tavah?” He gives me a sidelong glance, his popped tux collar jabbing his chin.

“What do you mean? ”

“Pff.” He shakes his head. “Kinda cozy, aren’t you? For a guy who pretends he doesn’t know about these mysterious creatures called women but somehow has all the right moves?”

“Got any pointers on how to slow dance without touching?”

“It’s not just the dancing part.” He zips his pants and steps away from the urinal and I meet him at the sink.

“Then what?” I focus on scrubbing my hands.

“You haven’t laughed like this for a while. It’s like you went emo and got all depressed and dark last week, but tonight, you’re all laughing and off in your own little beautiful people world. And dinner?” He turns toward me, his hands soapy. “Talking the whole time, no pauses, sharing food. You took a sip of her drink, dude. I saw. I’m not even at that level with Sav yet.” He rinses his hands, then shakes them dry.

“That’s because you just share spit through direct contact all night. Why bother with straws?”

Johnny snatches a paper towel and checks himself out in the mirror while I stick my hands under the dryer. “You’re into her,” he calls over the roar. “Glad you’re finally gonna make your move, Miller. Atta boy, that’s all I gotta say. Atta boy .” He flicks my ruffles as he passes toward the door, slapping the wall as we head into the hallway.

We turn toward the soda bar near the gym entrance. “Gonna get the lady a drink. See you back on the floor. Make your move, Miller. Make. Your. Move.” He holds up a finger and tilts his head. “Motorcycle approved, of course.”

I stand, straddling the lit hallway and the flashing, pulsing gym, and swallow guilt. I’ve had a great time with Tavah. I was all worried about the conversation, but we have too much to talk about and haven’t really talked to anyone else. At dinner, we ordered things to share because we couldn’t decide and were starving. And when she scooted closer, I’d checked out her lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss her now that there’s permanent space between mine and Mei’s.

But I shouldn’t be thinking that about Tavah when last week, I was making out with Mei in my living room, only focused on her mouth and her body rippling beneath mine. Because if Mei called me right now, I’d drop everything to be with her again. But she hasn’t and I can’t keep pretending or hoping. I filled in the D in THE END on my arm just before Tavah came and Mei never showed up to stop me.

My throat burns with tears I’ve shoved down all week, and I close my eyes when my heart curls in on itself to smother the ache. I swear to myself. It’s not possible to go from loving Mei to getting down with Tavah tonight. Unless I never really loved Mei.

No. I know what I feel. It’s boiling me from the inside out. So, what am I feeling for Tavah, then? Felt pretty great before I talked to Johnny. Having her that close suffocated Mei thoughts. Now that I’m not next to her, Mei’s moving through me again.

I push through a group of girls dancing up on their guys. Wave and nod to a few people as I slip around couples curled around each other, girls draped against their guys. Lights flash and I squint into the crowd, looking for Tavah.

I wave away a cloud of weed someone snuck in and edge along the flailing crowd. The rock in my stomach rolls around, and I spot her, dancing with her friends, all shimmery and silky. She’s safe. Comfortable. I could easily slip into something with her. Couple more nights like tonight and I’d be all in. But no way would my feelings for her scare me like my feelings for Mei do. Which means there’s no possibility of them being as big.

Tavah’s completely beautiful and bright and hilarious and smart. She’s everything a guy could want: sexy, confident, honest, even blunt, which I never thought I liked but do. She’s going to Berkeley on scholarship. She has goals. I’m definitely attracted to her. Everyone likes her, and she’s an open book. My body reacts to her. I felt the hormonal flow a few times tonight, like when she fixed my collar or when she pressed herself against me as we danced. She’s all those things plus probably a hundred more.

I keep my eyes on her as she blurs in the dark. She laughs at something another guy says, then does a frantic dance to match the beat, throwing her head back and flipping her hair around.

My heart clenches and I drag in a breath. Tavah is definitely a lot of things but…she’s just not Mei.