This Girl: A Novel

mine. She dug the fingers of her right hand into the cracks between the rocks , then placed her left hand
    directly . . .
    on top . . .
    of mine .
    She looked down at the vast, barren valley below us, then she looked back up at me and she smiled .
    She smiled .
    She looked at me and smiled and said . . .
    “Are you ready ?”
    And I was .
    I finally was.
    I had never been more ready in my life .
    Yeah . . .
    This girl .
    My mother would have loved this girl.
    Too bad she was just a dream .
    I CLOSE MY eyes and tune out the noise of the crowd while I wait for my lungs to find their rhythm again. When I descend the stage and take a seat back at the table, Eddie stands up, wiping tears from her eyes. She looks down at me and frowns.
    “Would it kill you to do something funny for once?” She storms toward the bathroom, I’m assuming to fix her makeup.
    I look at Gavin and laugh, but he’s staring back at me with his arms folded in front of him on the table. “Will, I think I’ve got an idea.”
    “Pertaining to . . .”
    “You,” he says. He gestures toward the stage, “and your . . . situation.”
    I lean forward. “What about my situation?”
    “I know someone,” he says. “She works with my mom. She’s your age, cute, in college.”
    I immediately shake my head. “No. No chance,” I say, leaning back into the booth.
    “Will, you can’t be with Layken. If your poem had anything to do with her, which I’m thinking it had everything to do with her, then you need to find a way to get over this. If you don’t, you’ll end up screwing up your entire career over this girl. A girl you went on one date with. One!”
    I continue to shake my head at his reasoning. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Gavin. I wasn’t even looking for anything when I met Lake. I’m fine with where I am right now; I definitely don’t need to add even more female drama into the picture.”
    “You won’t be adding more drama. You’ll be filling an obvious void in your life. You need to date. Eddie was right.”
    “What was I right about?” Eddie says, returning to her seat.
    Gavin gestures toward me. “About Will. He needs to date. Don’t you think he and Taylor would hit it off?”
    Eddie perks up. “I didn’t even think about her! Yes! Will, you’re gonna love her,” she says excitedly.
    “I’m not letting you guys set me up.” I grab my jacket. “I’ve got to get back home. See you guys in class tomorrow.”
    Eddie and Gavin both stand. “I’ll get her number tomorrow,” Eddie says. “Is next Saturday night okay? You two could double date with us.”
    “I’m not going.” I walk away without turning back or giving in.

8.
    the honeymoon
    “OKAY,” LAKE SAYS. “Two things. One. That poem was . . . heartbreakingly beautiful.”
    “Just like its subject,” I say. I lean in to kiss her but she brings her hand up and pushes my face away.
    “Two,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Gavin and Eddie tried to set you up with someone?” She huffs and sits up on the bed. “Good thing you didn’t agree to it. I don’t care how screwed up our situation was, there’s no way I would have dated anyone else considering the way I felt about you.”
    I quickly change the subject before she realizes that, although I didn’t agree to it, Eddie is pretty damn persistent.
    “Okay, now for Friday night,” I say, successfully taking her mind off the date. “Your mom.”
    “Yeah,” she says, finding a comfortable spot next to me and throwing her leg over mine. “My mom.”

secrets
    “PASTA AGAIN?” CAULDER whines. He grabs his plate of food from the counter and takes it to the bar and sits.
    “If you don’t like it, learn how to cook.”
    “I like it,” Kel says. “My mom cooks a lot of vegetables and chicken. That’s probably why I’m so small, because I’m malnouredish.”
    I laugh and correct him. “It’s malnourished.”
    Kel rolls his eyes. “That’s what I said.”
    I grab my own bowl and fill it with pasta . . . again. We do have pasta at least three times a week, but there are only two of us. I don’t see the point in making expensive meals when it’s just me and a nine-year-old most of the time. I take a seat at the bar across from the two boys and fill all of our glasses with tea.
    “Suck and sweet time,” Caulder says.
    “What’s suck and sweet?” Kel asks.
    As soon as Caulder starts to explain, there’s a knock at the front door. When I reach the door and open it, I’m