Woke Up Like This(82)

She gives me a knowing look. “I’m sorry, Char. I panicked. And in my defense, I did hear that rumor. It’s not like he was some saint.”

“But you were with Ollie. Why did it matter?”

“I don’t know . . . It was stupid. I was still jealous and bitter that he turned me down. It wasn’t even that I liked him, I swear. But no one had rejected me before and it got to me. I got over him pretty much right after that, especially when Ollie and I got more serious. I always felt like shit for lying about it. Believe me, there were so many times I wanted to tell you but there was never a right moment and—”

“I’ve hated Renner ever since . . .” I think about how mad I was at him. How loyal I’ve been to her even though she blatantly lied to me all these years. I can’t even look at her. I can’t believe she’d lie to me. And most of all, I can’t believe Adult Renner was right.

“You can’t blame me for hating Renner. How many times did I beg and plead with you to stop holding your stupid grudge against him? And don’t act like you hated him all because of me. You have an entire list of reasons you hate him, do you not?”

“Only because of homecoming!” I make an effort to lower my voice. “I just can’t believe you’d do something like this . . . You were supposed to be my best friend.”

She lowers her chin in what appears to be genuine remorse. “I’m so sorry. It was beyond wrong and immature to let a guy affect our friendship. I know that now.”

I don’t doubt she’s truly sorry. Kassie has never been one to apologize, even when she knows she’s wrong. And while I can try to forgive her for the past, I don’t know that it’s enough to repair us.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” she pleads.

“Stop lying,” I demand. “You lie to me, all the time. Not just about big things, but about insignificant things too. And I know you don’t like conflict, but it hurts because I know you’re lying. Change plans, do whatever it is you’re going to do, but at least give me the respect of telling the truth.”

She winces. “I know. I really do need to work on that. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never meant to. I swear. We just have really different ways of dealing with things and sometimes it makes it hard.”

“Tell me about it,” I huff.

“In the end . . . we’ve always been different, haven’t we?” She’s not wrong. We’ve always been polar opposites. And without a common town, a common high school, and a common group of friends, who are we really to each other?

“We were always opposites,” I agree. Yin and yang. That’s what Mom calls us.

“Well, from here on out, it’ll be one hundred percent honesty. I promise.” She reaches for my hand and squeezes. For a flash, I see Adult Kassie in yoga-wear. While I appreciate the gesture, I think we both know something has changed. Something irreversible. It’s like the tiniest hairline fracture that will inevitably deepen with time.



Maybe Mom was right. Maybe not all friends are meant to be in your life for the long haul. Not being friends anymore doesn’t have to involve a catastrophic fight. No one means to hurt the other person. People just move on with life. Sad as it is, it also brings me a sense of peace.

“Well, for the sake of honesty, I need to tell you something too.” I contemplate telling her everything. But I settle for the heart of it. “I have feelings for Renner.”

Her eyes bulge. “No. Way. What? Since you guys kissed at the sleepover?”

That doesn’t seem right either. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened. Was it that first smile he gave me on the bleachers the first day of school? The hours of bickering? That kiss on the rooftop? It doesn’t really matter. Somehow, Renner took hold of my heart and made it whole. Fuller. Happier. “For . . . a long time. I think.”

And while Kassie doesn’t know everything, she can interpret the look in my eyes. Somehow, she just knows what I need, because she’s still my best friend, for now at least. “Go find him,” she says with a nudge.

With her approval, I march back into the gym, head held high—only, the mood has slowed. And that’s when I hear it. That familiar tune.

The Dirty Dancing song.





FORTY



The lighting is low, and glittering dots of yellow swirl around the dance floor.

It’s like wading through a starry galaxy as I pass through the crowd, the rhythm of the music thrumming in my ears. You know it’s the end of the night when the girls’ hair is plastered to their foreheads with sweat, and guys’ dress shirts are wrinkled and partially unbuttoned. It’s nearing eleven o’clock, but everyone is holding strong on the dance floor. These are the last precious moments of high school.

As I round the refreshment table, I spot a tall figure chatting with the DJ. I know it’s Renner. No one else has that self-assured stance. He beams when he spots me, handsome face backlit by the blue lights near the stage. Human sunshine.

When our eyes meet, the crowd seems to part, opening a direct path to him. There’s a knowing look in his eyes. A look of realization, fear, adoration, all wrapped into one. Without even saying a word, I know he’s experienced it too. I know it deep in my soul.

It’s only when my feet start to ache that I realize we’re walking toward the middle of the star-filled dance floor.