forty-nine
My cheeks went hot. I scrambled up and started for the other side of the room.
“Wait—” Trip said. “G, please wait—”
I couldn’t think. I was tired and hurt. And mad. Madder than I’d ever been in my life. I spun to face him.
“What, you can kiss Mace and not me?” My voice cracked, which made me even madder.
“I never—”
“You did—Allie said you did in Spin the Bottle last summer.”
“That didn’t count. It was just a stupid—”
“You like her better—”
“You do, and you abandoned me when I needed you and made me go to South Carolina with her—her of all people!”
“But I didn’t—”
“And I am so sorry I’m not wrapped up like a perfect little cookie with your moms who are neighbors and best friends and—”
“No! Mace and I grew up together, but—but you’re my best friend, G. And I’m sorry—but I don’t like you—like that—”
“Why? Because I’m some dumb hick? And you are Perfect Boy? Mr. Trip Something-Something Hedgeclipper the Fourteenth? Because I’m trash? My whole family is trash all the way down to the very first Delta Dawn caveman!” I was yelling now and I didn’t care who heard me.
“That’s not it, G—”
“Then what?”
“It’s just that I—”
“What?”
“I don’t—”
“WHAT!”
“I don’t”—his voice broke—“like any girl that way.”
There was quiet. And breathing. But nothing in the quiet made sense.
I shook my head.
“I think—no—G, I know—”
“What does that even mean? What do you mean you know?”
“I—I know this about myself, G—I know what I know.”
I shook my head again.
He reached out, but I pulled away.
And I couldn’t stop shaking. Shaking and shaking my head at him, sitting there telling me he knew what he knew when everything—everything!—in my whole life that I thought I knew was a lie.
I jumped up. “Do you want to know what I know? I move here and you keep hanging around and inviting me over, passing me notes and making me—making me foolish and stupid enough to believe that you—and then tonight, after—after everything—”
Then, just like that, it was too much.
And I pushed him.
Because if I was the direct descendant of Dead Drunk Donna, I was going to do it 150%.
Like I do everything.
I turned and ran out of the room.
Past the wall of laughing photos. Past the hundreds of books on his shelves. Past his mother and father standing there wordless in the unlocked doorway.
Heartbreak on Toast
When your heart’s broken, you find comfort where you can.
• The best slice of bread in the room
• Butter
• 1 nice big egg
• Salt and pepper
• Hot sauce
Just go on and put your pan over medium-high heat and let it warm up.
Take a nice, clean little heart cookie cutter and use it to make a perfect heart in the middle of your bread. Butter both sides of your bread (and the little heart).
Drop both pieces into your pan and let it sizzle there until they are nice and golden brown and crisp on one side. Then flip them both over and crack your egg right in that hole. Cook until the white is set but the yolk is still runny. Flip it once more, just to set the other side. Put it on a plate. Salt and pepper. Poke a little hole in the yolk and hit it up with a dash or two of hot sauce. Use your crispy little bread heart to dip and eat. Dip and eat. Warm, buttery, toasty bread and egg. Just keep eating and eating till that heart-shaped hole is long gone.
Serves 1.