We'll Always Have Summer
Page 13
“All what stuff?”
“Like, bridesmaids and wedding cake. Stuff like that.”
“Liar!” She pointed her finger at me. “You wanted five bridesmaids and a fourtier carrot cake. You wanted an ice sculpture of a human heart with your initials carved into it. Which, by the way, is gross.”
“Tay!”
She held up her hand to stop me. “You wanted a live band and crab cakes and a balloon drop after your first dance. What was that song you wanted to dance to?”
“‘Stay’ by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs,” I said automatically. “But Taylor, I was probably ten years old when I said all that stuff.” I was really touched that she remembered, though. But I guessed I remembered everything Taylor wanted too. Doves, little lace gloves, hot-pink stiletto heels.
“You should have everything you want, Belly,” Taylor said, her chin jutting out in her stubborn Taylor way.
“You only get married once.”
“I know, but we don’t have the money. And anyway, I don’t really care about those things anymore. That was kid stuff.” But maybe I didn’t have to do all of it, maybe just some of it. Maybe I could still have a real wedding, but simple. Because, it would be nice to wear a wedding dress and to have a father-daughter dance with my dad.
“I thought Jeremy’s dad was loaded. Can’t he afford to give you a real wedding?”
“There’s no way my mom would let him pay for it.
Besides, like I said, we don’t want anything fancy.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “We’ll forget the ice sculpture.
But balloons are cheap—we can still do balloons. And the carrot cake. We could just do a regular two-layer, I guess. And I don’t care what you say, you’re wearing a wedding dress.”
“That sounds good,” I agreed, taking a sip of her drink.
It felt really nice to have Taylor’s blessing. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.
“And you’ll still have bridesmaids. Or at least a maid of honor.”
“I’ll just have you.”
Taylor looked pleased. “But what about Anika? You don’t want Anika to be a bridesmaid?”
“Hmm, maybe,” I said, and when her face fell, just slightly, I added, “But I want you to be my maid of honor.
Okay?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m so honored.”
Taylor Jewel, my oldest friend in the world. We’d been through some times together, and I knew now it was pure grace that we’d managed to come out the other side.
Chapter Fifteen
Anika was next, and I was dreading it. I respected her opinion. I didn’t want her to think less of me. The prospect of being a bridesmaid wasn’t going to have any sway over her.
That wasn’t something she would care about either way.
We had decided to room together that fall, in a suite with two of our other friends, Shay and Lynn, in the new dorm on the other side of campus. Anika and I were going to buy cute plates and cups, she was bringing her fridge, and I was bringing my TV. Everything was set.
We were hanging out in her room later that night.
I was packing her books inside a big crate, and she was rolling up her posters.
The radio was on, and our campus station was playing Madonna’s “The Power of Good-Bye.” Maybe it was a sign.
I sat on the floor, putting away the last book, trying to drum up the courage to tell her. Nervously, I licked my lips.
“Ani, I have something I need to talk to you about,” I said.
She’d been struggling with the movie poster on the back of her door. “What’s up?”
There’s nothing left to lose… . There’s no more heart to bruise… . There’s no greater power than the power of good-bye.
I swallowed. “I feel really bad having to do this to you.”
Anika turned around. “Do what?”
“I’m not going to be able to room with you next semester.”
Her eyebrows were knit together. “What? Why? Did something happen?”
“Jeremiah asked me to marry him.”
She did a double take. “Isabel Conklin! Shut the shit up.”
Slowly, I held up my hand.
Anika whistled. “Wow. That’s crazy.”
“I know.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she said,
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Yeah. I think so. I really, really love him.”
“Where are you guys going to live?”
“In an apartment off campus.” I hesitated. “I just feel bad about letting you down. Are you mad?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I’m not mad. I mean, yeah, it sucks that we won’t be living together, but I’ll figure 72 · jenny han
something out. I could ask Trina from my dance team. Or my cousin Brandy might be transferring here. She could be our fourth.”
So it wasn’t such a big deal after all, my not living with them. Life goes on, I guessed. I felt a little wistful, imagining what it would be like if I was still the fourth. Shay was really good at doing hair, and Lynn loved to bake cupcakes. It would have been really fun.
Anika sat down on her bed. “I’ll be fine. I’m just …
surprised.”
“Me too.”
When she didn’t say anything else, I asked, “Do you think I’m making a huge mistake?”
In her thoughtful way, she asked, “Does it matter what I think?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not for me to judge, Iz.”
“But you’re my friend. I respect your opinion. I don’t want you to think badly of me.”
“You care too much about what other people think.”
She said it with sureness but also tenderness.
If anyone else had said it—my mother, Taylor, even Jere—I would have bristled. But not with Anika. With her, I couldn’t really mind. In a way it was flattering to have her see me so clearly and still like me. Friendship in college was different that way. You spend all this time with people, sometimes every day, every meal. There was no hiding who you were in front of your friends. You were just naked. Especially in front of someone like Anika, who was so frank and open and incisive and said whatever she thought. She didn’t miss a thing.
Anika said, “At least you’ll never have to wear shower shoes again.”
“Or have to pull other people’s hair out of the drain.
“Like, bridesmaids and wedding cake. Stuff like that.”
“Liar!” She pointed her finger at me. “You wanted five bridesmaids and a fourtier carrot cake. You wanted an ice sculpture of a human heart with your initials carved into it. Which, by the way, is gross.”
“Tay!”
She held up her hand to stop me. “You wanted a live band and crab cakes and a balloon drop after your first dance. What was that song you wanted to dance to?”
“‘Stay’ by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs,” I said automatically. “But Taylor, I was probably ten years old when I said all that stuff.” I was really touched that she remembered, though. But I guessed I remembered everything Taylor wanted too. Doves, little lace gloves, hot-pink stiletto heels.
“You should have everything you want, Belly,” Taylor said, her chin jutting out in her stubborn Taylor way.
“You only get married once.”
“I know, but we don’t have the money. And anyway, I don’t really care about those things anymore. That was kid stuff.” But maybe I didn’t have to do all of it, maybe just some of it. Maybe I could still have a real wedding, but simple. Because, it would be nice to wear a wedding dress and to have a father-daughter dance with my dad.
“I thought Jeremy’s dad was loaded. Can’t he afford to give you a real wedding?”
“There’s no way my mom would let him pay for it.
Besides, like I said, we don’t want anything fancy.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “We’ll forget the ice sculpture.
But balloons are cheap—we can still do balloons. And the carrot cake. We could just do a regular two-layer, I guess. And I don’t care what you say, you’re wearing a wedding dress.”
“That sounds good,” I agreed, taking a sip of her drink.
It felt really nice to have Taylor’s blessing. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.
“And you’ll still have bridesmaids. Or at least a maid of honor.”
“I’ll just have you.”
Taylor looked pleased. “But what about Anika? You don’t want Anika to be a bridesmaid?”
“Hmm, maybe,” I said, and when her face fell, just slightly, I added, “But I want you to be my maid of honor.
Okay?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m so honored.”
Taylor Jewel, my oldest friend in the world. We’d been through some times together, and I knew now it was pure grace that we’d managed to come out the other side.
Chapter Fifteen
Anika was next, and I was dreading it. I respected her opinion. I didn’t want her to think less of me. The prospect of being a bridesmaid wasn’t going to have any sway over her.
That wasn’t something she would care about either way.
We had decided to room together that fall, in a suite with two of our other friends, Shay and Lynn, in the new dorm on the other side of campus. Anika and I were going to buy cute plates and cups, she was bringing her fridge, and I was bringing my TV. Everything was set.
We were hanging out in her room later that night.
I was packing her books inside a big crate, and she was rolling up her posters.
The radio was on, and our campus station was playing Madonna’s “The Power of Good-Bye.” Maybe it was a sign.
I sat on the floor, putting away the last book, trying to drum up the courage to tell her. Nervously, I licked my lips.
“Ani, I have something I need to talk to you about,” I said.
She’d been struggling with the movie poster on the back of her door. “What’s up?”
There’s nothing left to lose… . There’s no more heart to bruise… . There’s no greater power than the power of good-bye.
I swallowed. “I feel really bad having to do this to you.”
Anika turned around. “Do what?”
“I’m not going to be able to room with you next semester.”
Her eyebrows were knit together. “What? Why? Did something happen?”
“Jeremiah asked me to marry him.”
She did a double take. “Isabel Conklin! Shut the shit up.”
Slowly, I held up my hand.
Anika whistled. “Wow. That’s crazy.”
“I know.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she said,
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Yeah. I think so. I really, really love him.”
“Where are you guys going to live?”
“In an apartment off campus.” I hesitated. “I just feel bad about letting you down. Are you mad?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I’m not mad. I mean, yeah, it sucks that we won’t be living together, but I’ll figure 72 · jenny han
something out. I could ask Trina from my dance team. Or my cousin Brandy might be transferring here. She could be our fourth.”
So it wasn’t such a big deal after all, my not living with them. Life goes on, I guessed. I felt a little wistful, imagining what it would be like if I was still the fourth. Shay was really good at doing hair, and Lynn loved to bake cupcakes. It would have been really fun.
Anika sat down on her bed. “I’ll be fine. I’m just …
surprised.”
“Me too.”
When she didn’t say anything else, I asked, “Do you think I’m making a huge mistake?”
In her thoughtful way, she asked, “Does it matter what I think?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not for me to judge, Iz.”
“But you’re my friend. I respect your opinion. I don’t want you to think badly of me.”
“You care too much about what other people think.”
She said it with sureness but also tenderness.
If anyone else had said it—my mother, Taylor, even Jere—I would have bristled. But not with Anika. With her, I couldn’t really mind. In a way it was flattering to have her see me so clearly and still like me. Friendship in college was different that way. You spend all this time with people, sometimes every day, every meal. There was no hiding who you were in front of your friends. You were just naked. Especially in front of someone like Anika, who was so frank and open and incisive and said whatever she thought. She didn’t miss a thing.
Anika said, “At least you’ll never have to wear shower shoes again.”
“Or have to pull other people’s hair out of the drain.
