Tell Me You'll Miss Me | ✓

19. just don't

Summer and I had a standing study date at the library organised for Friday, which wound up being the same day that Nora and I scheduled our first real date. My feelings were definitely mixed – like they'd been whirred around in a blender for way too long – but I believed in second chances, especially when I didn't have anything to lose.

Our fake date might not have been a resounding success and it might have ended sourly, but I had to admit that was kind of my fault. Okay, and Summer's fault. We were the ones who'd schemed the whole thing up, and Nora had really just been playing her part. Like, way too well, but still. Judging from her Very Berry commercials, she was a decent actress – I couldn't hold that against her. 

Not to mention, the one thing I'd learned from our date – aside from, well, everything I now knew about David – was that Nora was not a bad kisser. I could only imagine (and possibly hope to find out) what her real kisses might be like.

When I turned up to the library suspiciously overdressed, Summer's expression was too much. Her eyes lit up, and I was already wondering if there were any possible way I could avoid having this conversation with her.

I sat down and started busying myself with emptying out the pertinent contents of my backpack, taking a sip of coffee from my pastel-striped travel mug, fussing with my oversized jacket and trying to hide the cute dress I had on underneath. I was waiting for Summer to make some kind of comment, but when I blinked back up, confused by her wildly uncharacteristic silence, I saw that she had her phone out and its camera aimed in my direction.

She had her eyebrows raised high, an appreciative smile on her face, and then giggled when I held my palm up to cover the lens.

"I have to document this!" Summer protested. "You look too good for this to not be added to the history books."

"I brushed my hair and shaved my legs, Sum. Historic?" I pulled a face, scrunching my mouth up, and teetered my hand left and right as if to say not quite.

Summer rolled her eyes and locked her phone, returning it to her pocket. She continued to grin at me, proud. "This means what I think it means though, right?"

I shrugged, starting to flick through my textbook. "Depends on what you think it means," I said, oddly feeling a little defensive. Did Summer have to wade into this mess again? It only seemed to complicate everything.

"Somebody's got a date," she singsonged, wiggling her eyebrows up and down goofily. "I knew it," she said, almost seeming relieved. "This whole thing is destined to work out. You both just needed a little push."

I tilted my head at her, not sure what that was supposed to mean. My textbook perusal was on pause. This was getting weird and complicated already. I knew that Summer adding herself back into the mix would make things tricky.

"A push?" I had this weird, clammy feeling. "Everything's fine," I lied, because as far as Summer knew, it was. I hadn't told her about having my hopes dissolve right there and then on the pavement between our two houses. If anything, I'd kind of... deliberately misled her about that whole mess.

She tutted and rolled her eyes. "Fine, don't thank me," she sassed, but the smirk on her lips said she wasn't actually feeling too salty about whatever it was that was happening here.

I flipped my textbook shut, and it slammed more than I wanted it to.

"And what should I be thanking you for?"

Summer looked like she couldn't believe I didn't know. "You're kidding me, right?" She pointed a finger at my outfit. "This. All of this," she laughed. "After things totally crashed and burned last time, I figured a little meddling wouldn't hurt." She fluffed up her curls and slid her hair-tie from her wrist, fixing up the top half of her hair in a bun while I watched, stunned.

"I don't-- what are you-- like-- crashed and burned--?" I began to ask, stammering my way through a number of thoughts that never quite materialised enough to come out of my mouth and make sense.

"Jess." Summer said, locking eyes with me and bracing a hand on my knee. "Chill. I know you. You were whacked out the other day at lunch and your texts had been weird and--" she wiggled a hand about in mid-air, trying to convey something she didn't have the words for. "I did some digging," she shrugged. "I kinda can't believe you're surprised by this."

I realised my mouth was still hanging open and shut it promptly, stuffing my textbook and notepad back into my bag before I'd even had time to think about what I was doing.

"So, everything we do is fake now? We go on fake dates, you fake what you know and you fake what you don't know, too? How is that-- fair?" I breathed, feeling like all the air was leaving my lungs. This wasn't boding well for the rest of the evening, I was exasperated and over this whole struggle already.

"Now you're being unfair. I did something nice. I hooked you up with a second date. A real date. She asked you out for real this time. There's nothing fake here," Summer said, her expression more serious than usual, like she really needed me to know what she was saying was true – but how could I trust her on this?

"Okay, so, wow. You set me up on a date, sure, but you went behind my back to do it? Do you just feel bad for me because you have David, now?" His name came out with more venom than I'd intended. "I mean, why wouldn't you just tell me you knew things hadn't worked out for me and Nora?" I was starting to feel my face flushing, but not in the cute blushy way.

"Would you relax? I do not get why this is becoming-- like, a thing? You have a real date with your dream girl. That's a win, champ. What's the problem, here?"

I hitched my bag up onto my shoulder and grabbed my coffee. Summer stood up at the same time I did.

"No no no," she trilled out. "We have to study-- come on, if I say I'm sorry will you stay? And like, talk to me?"

"I have way too much going on in my brain to study right now," I huffed. "It's rich that you want us to talk now, though," I said, too cold, "considering you clearly didn't think you could talk to me before."

I would've said we never argued, ever, but we were currently busy proving that idea horribly wrong.

"I-- hm," she faltered, and the weirdness of Summer being lost for words struck me in the gut. I knew she was in the wrong, but it seemed like finally she was realising that too, and somehow that was making me feel worse. "I-- so, yeah-- maybe I should've..." she grimaced, before covering her face in her hands. "I hate this," she said, and a weight settled itself uncomfortably on my chest. "Can we stop? I don't like this at all."

I tried to figure out what I wanted to do. If we were being totally truthful, I wanted to stop too. I hated being mad at Summer, and seeing her be so upset was making me upset, and it was a whole big nasty situation right now – but I was still angry that she'd been going behind my back and, presumably, talking to Nora about everything instead of asking me.

And to go one step further still and meddle to the point of asking the girl I maybe liked to ask me out again? Talk about embarrassing.

I rubbed my hands over my eyes, and then swore under my breath when I pulled my hands away and realised I'd gotten my eyeshadow and liner all over my fingertips.

"Oh," Summer said, a funny, watery smile on her face. "I think I have a mirror in my bag, let me--"

"Just don't," I sighed, frustrated with her and myself and my make-up as I turned to head off to find the library bathrooms.