Henna was at home with her parents on the night of the Bolts of Fire concert because Nathan was with just Jared at the movies. All those mysterious Saturday nights that Jared’s been taking? Whatever they were before, they’ve been something different lately.
Everyone could see it. Except me. Because I was too focused on Henna.
And is that my fault? I’m asking seriously. If I’d been looking at my best friend in the world and not myself or the girl that I claim so hard to be in love with, then maybe I’d have seen it, too. Because I guess it was obvious.
But what were they waiting for? Why were they waiting at all?
Are we all friends or are they just friends?
You always think you’re the least-wanted, Jared said.
Sucks to be right.
I surface before my lungs explode. Henna’s waiting on the end of the dock. “Wanna drive me back?” she asks.
I look up at her from the water. “No,” I say.
She waits.
“Yes,” I say.
“I thought you’d figure it out,” Henna says, as we drive. “It was a surprise to me, too, but eventually I realized I was getting no vibes off Nathan at all, no matter how strongly I felt. And then I’d see him looking at Jared a little too long.”
“I don’t…” I say. “I didn’t… Jared’s always been secretive.”
I said goodbye to everyone, even Nathan, wincing through his hangover, and Jared, who kept his distance, waiting for me to come closer. But I left instead.
“This is stupid,” I say, feeling my chest get tight, like I’m going to cry. I cried during the night when we lay on the couch together. She let me. And even though she didn’t tell me about Jared and Nathan before either, I’m not mad at her.
I just feel so dumb.
“You guys don’t have to treat me like I’m going to break,” I say. “Everyone does. Mikey with the OCD. Mikey with the medication now–”
“We never did, Mike–”
“Mel died. She’s still weird around food and everyone treats her the same. Like they should. I do. I spend a lot of time doing that.”
“Jared is a quarter God, Mike. And I’ve got freak parents who are taking me to a war to talk about Jesus and feet. Everyone’s got something. Not even just us, everyone we know.” She looks thoughtful.
“Except maybe the indie kids. They’re probably the most normal ones out there.”
“I wonder what was going on last night. With the lights.”
She shrugs. “Probably some apocalypse.”
“I feel so stupid,” I say. “Just so, so stupid. Right in front of my face. And no one tells me.”
“If it helps,” she says, “it means I really was your date to prom.”
I drive some more. I don’t say out loud whether it helps or not.
My mom hands me an envelope as I walk in the door. “I checked,” she says. “You aced them.”
Our finals results. I open it. I did ace them, even Calc. College was kind of a formality – I knew I wasn’t going to fail – but it’s nice to have the formality all wrapped up. New life, here I come, I guess.
“You’re back early,” my mom says, going to the kitchen.
I follow her. “So are you.”
“Meredith made me.” She smiles, but I know it’s true. “That freak lightning storm.”