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To All the Boys I've Loved Before - 10
Romance
Completed
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“When would I even talk to her? We’re broken up, remember?”
I frown at him. “I hate when people do that—when you ask them to keep something a secret and instead of saying yes or no, they say, ‘Who would I tell?’?”
“I didn’t say, ‘Who would I tell?’!”
“Just say yes or no and mean it. Don’t make it conditional.”
“I won’t tell Margot anything,” he says. “It’ll just be between you and me. I promise. All right?”
“All right,” I say. And then it gets quiet with neither of us saying anything; there’s just the sound of cool air coming out of the A/C vents.
My stomach feels queasy thinking about how I’m going to tell my dad. Maybe I should break the news to him with tears in my eyes so he feels sorry for me. Or I could say something like, I have good news and bad news. The good news is, I’m fine, not a scratch on me. The bad news is, the car is wrecked. Maybe “wrecked” isn’t the right word.
I’m mulling over the right word choice in my head when Josh says, “So just because Margot and I broke up, you’re not going to talk to me anymore either?” Josh sounds jokingly bitter or bitterly joking, if there is such a combination.
I look over at him in surprise. “Don’t be dumb. Of course I’m still going to talk to you. Just not in public.” This is the role I play with him. The part of the pesky little sister. As if I am the same as Kitty. As if we aren’t only a year apart. Josh doesn’t crack a smile, he just looks glum, so I bump my forehead against his. “That was a joke, dummy!”
“Did she tell you she was going to do it? I mean, was it always her plan?” When I hesitate, he says, “Come on. I know she tells you everything.”
“Not really. Not this time anyway. Honestly, Josh. I didn’t know a thing about it. Promise.” I cross my heart.
Josh absorbs this. Chewing on his bottom lip he says, “Maybe she’ll change her mind. That’s possible, right?”
I don’t know if it’s more heartless for me to say yes or no, because he’ll be hurt either way. Because while I’m 99.99999 percent sure that she will get back together with him, there’s that tiny chance she won’t, and I don’t want to get his hopes up. So I don’t say anything.
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “No, you’re right. When Margot makes up her mind, she doesn’t go back on it.”
Please please please don’t cry.
I rest my head on his shoulder and say, “You never know, Joshy.”
Josh stares straight ahead. A squirrel is darting up the big oak tree in the yard. Up and down and back up again. We both watch. “What time does she land?”
“Not for hours.”
“Is . . . is she coming home for Thanksgiving?”
“No. They don’t get off for Thanksgiving. It’s Scotland, Josh. They don’t celebrate American holidays, hello!” I’m teasing again, but my heart’s not in it.
“That’s right,” he says.
I say, “She’ll be home for Christmas, though,” and we both sigh.
“Can I still hang out with you guys?” Josh asks me.
“Me and Kitty?”
“Your dad, too.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” I assure him.
Josh looks relieved. “Good. I’d hate to lose you, too.”
As soon as he says it, my heart does this pause, and I forget to breathe, and just for that one second I’m dizzy. And then, just as quickly as it came, the feeling, the strange flutter in my chest, is gone, and the tow truck arrives.
When we pull into my driveway, he says, “Do you want me to be there when you tell your dad?”
I brighten up and then I remember how Margot said I’m in charge now. I’m pretty sure taking responsibility for one’s mistakes is part of being in charge.
9
DADDY ISN’T SO MAD AFTER all. I go through my whole good news–bad news spiel and he just sighs and says, “As long as you’re all right.”
The car needs a special part that has to be flown in from Indiana or Idaho, I can’t remember which. In the meantime I’ll have to share the car with Daddy and take the bus to school or ask Josh for rides, which was already my plan.
Margot calls later that night. Kitty and I are watching TV and I scream for Daddy to come quick. We sit on the couch and pass the phone around and take turns talking to her.
“Margot, guess what happened today!” Kitty shouts.
Frantically, I shake my head at her. Don’t tell her about the car, I mouth. I give her warning eyes.
“Lara Jean got into . . .” Kitty pauses tantalizingly. “A fight with Daddy. Yeah, she was mean to me and Daddy told her to be nice, so they had a fight.”
I grab the phone out of her hand. “We didn’t have a fight, Gogo. Kitty’s just being annoying.”
“What did you guys have for dinner? Did you cook the chicken I defrosted last night?” Margot asks. Her voice sounds so far away.
I push the volume up on the phone. “Yes, but never mind about that. Are you settled into your room? Is it big? What’s your roommate like?”
“She’s nice. She’s from London and she has a really fancy accent. Her name is Penelope St. George-Dixon.”
“Gosh, even her name sounds fancy,” I say. “What about your room?”
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