Page 28

Chapter 28

Isa

I wished I could race as fast as my heart. It was sprinting, and I was trying my best to keep up, clumsily weaving through couples and friends and families with my head half bowed to the ground. Damn you, Jessica from J.Crew, I thought. Your online review said I could honestly run in these heels and not feel a thing! You gave them five stars!

Though up until now, they had been extremely comfortable.

I’d rate them four stars later.

Grace and Everett, I’d been wondering nonstop since we’d been forced to separate in the ever-growing crowds. Where did they go?

Hopefully nowhere near her.

Why was Principal Unger in Philadelphia?! A nightmare flashed through my mind, of her discovering I’d faked my family emergency and leaving school so she could track me down and punish me in front of my peers.

Not only did I need to outwit her; I also needed to physically outmaneuver her. In my gold Rylie Collection caged-toe heels!

Keep moving, I told myself, blood pounding in my ears as I teetered and tottered around people left and right. Just keep moving, and she won’t find you.

Although before long, I found Grace. Thanks to her post-tennis practice suicides, she was a flash in front of me. “G!” I called, waving at her when she pivoted.

“Isa, thank god!” She tried to smile, but I caught it waver, as if she wasn’t sure where we stood. It was clear she’d wanted to have a DMC earlier, but I hadn’t given it to her. I’d wanted to enjoy the street fair (and take the Everett of it all in). She paired a forced laugh with her forced smile. “How are your feet not killing you?”

“Let’s get off the street,” I said. “We’ll hide until we hear from Everett.”

Fittingly enough, we camouflaged ourselves among Anthropologie’s sample sale, which was set up right outside its front doors. Grace grabbed a cinnamon-colored suede Fedora off the freestanding coat hanger. “Here, this’ll look good on you,” she joked weakly, styling it on my head as I dug through my purse for Band-Aids (my feet, upon inspection, had some war wounds). Then she found a plum-colored hat for herself. We were both wearing our sunglasses, but I was grateful for the extra dose of disguise. Anthropologie’s salesgirl gave me a cautioning look, as if to say, You’re going to pay for those, right?

After taping up my blisters, Grace and I walked wordlessly toward the dress section. The whimsical designs and sheer volume of fabric shielded us even more. Nothing was aggressively pink, so I doubted Principal Unger would stop to browse.

But the second Grace sighed with relief, I decided I was finally ready to talk—or, more accurately, go berserk. “I can’t believe it,” I said. “I can’t believe I listened to you—I never should’ve listened to you!”

Grace frowned and took off her aviators, confused. “What are you talking about?”

I ripped off my Jackie O glasses to stare her down. I was—dare I say it—about to pick a fight with my best friend. “What do you think I’m talking about?” I scowled. “Today, Grace. I’m talking about today. I never should’ve agreed to skip school—”

“Take the day off,” she interjected. “We’re just taking the day off.”

I rolled my eyes. “Right, exactly. I said over and over that it was irresponsible, and yet…” My hands went to my hips. “We’re going to get in trouble, Grace. Major trouble.”

“Only if Principal Unger finds us.”

“Which she will,” I insisted. “Why else do you think she’shere?”

“She could’ve left school early for something,” Grace said, trying to keep things light but the puzzled look on her face revealing she still didn’t understand why I was so fixated on skipping school. It was like we were back in her kitchen this morning. “This could be a total coincidence—”

“Grace!” My voice leapt an entire octave. “I don’t care whether or not it’s a coincidence. She is here, and so are we.” I started circling the dresses, something in my chest tightening. “We are stupidly, stupidly here. I missed my history test!”

There was a beat of silence between us, the twisted look on Grace’s face revealing she was fighting the urge to ask a question. If I had to guess, it would’ve been Isa, what the fuck?

“Oh, you missed your history test?” she eventually asked, deadpan.

I fell right into her trap, because I wanted to yell; I never got to yell. “Yes!” I burst out, and admittedly it felt good. “I did! Third period! The rise of ochlocracy!”

“Ah, okay,” she sympathized before casually saying, “Tell me, Isa, are you a mobster?”

My brow knitted—now I was the puzzled one. Where was she going with this? Was she trying to calm me down? With sarcasm? “No…”

She nodded. “Do you ever plan on being a mobster?”

I slowed my pacing, then stopped. “I want to study abroad in Eastern Europe, but no, I don’t.”

“Great, awesome.” Grace pulled a grin. “Then why do you give a crap about rising mafia states?”

My cheeks warmed.

She shrugged. “I mean, what’s the point? It was open-book, anyway.”

I felt my face ignite into flames. This argument was so stupid, so immature, but it was the only one I could handle right now. Everett, James, Papá’s affair—I needed to push them away so I didn’t spiral into a panic attack. It was too much to confront right now. “The point is that it’s the last test before the final exam, Grace,” I told her. “The point is that it’s a big grade. The point is that I’m supposed to go to Harvard or Princeton or Yale—if one even lets me off their waitlist.”

“Brown is better!” she countered. “Brown loves you, and is not going to mind that you missed one day of school and had to make up a test! You can still go there and major in finance and minor in engineering or whatever.”

Was she baiting me? It sounded like she was baiting me.

And I bit, because I wanted to get it off my chest.

“You know I hate anything that remotely has to do with math,” I said, groaning. “Those subjects are Mamá and Papá’s grand plan, not mine. I somehow have to tell them that I want to double major in international affairs and music, then minor in history.”

Grace looked a little taken aback. Well, all right, I suspected she was thinking. So maybe it does matter to her if ochlocracy is on the upswing….

But I wasn’t finished yet. “The point is that I missed something important. I missed something important for this.” I gestured around us—not at the racks of clothes, but to our big-city waste of time.

“For this?” Grace asked, giving me an irked look. “Isa, that hurts. What have you seen today?”

“Nothing extraordinary,” I mumbled.

“Nothing extraordinary?” Grace sputtered. “What do you mean? Everything has been extraordinary!” She blinked, moments flickering through her mind. “We signed the Declaration of Independence, saw priceless works of art, went to a fancy French restaurant, ate the best cheesesteak in Philly, and things with Ev are finally back to the way they shouldbe….”

She trailed off when we made eye contact.

I might’ve been glaring at her.

“Aren’t they?” she asked tentatively. “Now that Ev’s apologized, aren’t things between you two good again?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re not going to forgive him?”

And here we finally are, I thought. The heart of it all.

No matter how much I wanted to avoid this Deep Meaningful Conversation, I couldn’t. We had to have it.

I reached to touch a tulle dress, ivory with light green trim. “I didn’t say that,” I replied, even though Everett deserved my forgiveness and then some. He’d been too easy on me. I hadn’t been there for him; no matter what, I should’ve been there forhim.

The problem was I hadn’t known how, and when I’d tried later, he had been too far gone.

“I need to ask you something,” I told Grace as guilt gnawed in my stomach. “I don’t want to pressure you, G, but I have to know the truth.” I adjusted my one-size-didn’t-fit-all fedora. “Everett has feelings for you. Do you—”

“Yes,” she said with a wince, like this had been hurting her for ages. “I like him.”

A lump rose in my throat, remembering eighth grade— pulling her into the bathroom to confess my crush on Everett. Had she liked him even then? She’d been so supportive before and after he and I dated. She was the best friend in the world.

“I’ve always liked him,” she admitted, reading my mind. “But I was so excited for you, Isa. You and Ev were my closest friends. If being with each other made you happy, how could I not want you to be together?”

“Because you love him,” I distantly heard myself say, too focused on the scenes and signs stitching themselves together in my head. Babysitting Ev’s sisters together? Having the time of their lives at family game nights? And their body language and long looks at the art museum earlier? Grace playfully kissing Everett on the cheek? Ha! Shame on me for noticing nothing until then—or, to be honest, noticing everything but not painting the whole picture.

Grace neither confirmed nor denied. It was like she was saving those three words for Everett. Which, for some reason, opened the floodgates.

“And that,” I whispered, “is the root of our problem.”

“Problem?” she asked, her bewildered tone making my heart twinge. “What problem?”

“Everett,” I said. “ How could you not tell me about him? We’re supposed to tell each other everything! I feel like an idiot for thinking you two were just friends.”

I was a hypocrite and I didn’t care. Not only was I upset with Grace, but I was so upset with myself for putting off James that I was about to take it out on her.

Grace opened her mouth, then shut it. “I thought it was all in my head,” she eventually said. “Until today, I never thought Ev felt that way about me. He and I are friends, Isa. We hang out with his sisters, we do homework, or we watch TV.” She paused. “Nothing has ever happened, I swear. Even if I’d known how he felt, nothing would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care if anything’s happened, Grace! I really don’t. I’m over Everett Adler.”

“You don’t act like it!”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. Wait, what?

“I didn’t tell you about Everett because I can’t tell whether you’re holding a grudge, or if you are really and truly still heartbroken over everything.” Tears swam in her eyes. “Would you have let me talk you into blowing off classes today if you’d known he was part of the package?”

No, I thought. I would’ve gotten back in my car and driven straight to school.

“Right.” Grace folded her arms over her chest. “Exactly.”

“Not everything has to do with Everett,” I snapped, heat at the back of my neck. “You’re so blinded by him that you don’t see anything else, even when it’s right in front of you.”

Grace’s face twisted in confusion. “Then will you tell me?” she asked, trying to blink away her tears. “What am I missing?”

James, I thought. James, James, James.

We stared at each other for a few moments. “You said today was for old times’ sake, Grace,” I said, heart beating so fast. “And it has felt that way, like old times. It’s felt like a Saturday with Mr.Adler, who took four kids into the city.” I took a breath. “But I’ve only seen three. So where’s your brother?”

Grace hardly had time to consider the question before something sounded nearby. She and I grabbed hands and got ready to run, but then Everett appeared like a bull in a china shop. His dark hair was disheveled under his Mets hat and his breathing heavy, but now that he was here, Anthropologie’s salesgirl no longer seemed to care that Grace and I still hadn’t paid for our fedoras. Her heart-eyes for him were immediate. “Hey,” Grace said, so clearly wanting to throw her arms around him. Everything else aside, it was sweet. “Are you okay? Did Principal Unger spot you?”

“No,” Everett exhaled deeply, then looked at us head-on. He was flushed. “But I think James did.”