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Horrible. Tragic. Devastating.

“Awesome!” I managed to blurt out.

He didn’t believe it for one second. Words that express excitement sound so weird coming out of my mouth. I am especially bad at expressing enthusiasm for others when I do not feel it myself.

“I’m not throwing my life away.”

He was right. Shouldn’t I want what’s best for him?

BUT I THOUGHT WHAT’S BEST FOR HIM WAS BEING WITH ME!

Goddammit, I’m selfish.

“Awesome. Wow. Awesome.”

“You are a terrible liar,” he said.

“How do you expect me to react?” I said, looking down at the swarms of bennies below us, all of whom were still having fun, fun, fun. “I thought we were going to have all this time together next year, and to find out that we aren’t is just . . .”

I gurgled with tears.

“Jessica . . .”

“Why . . . didn’t . . . you . . . tell me?”

He turned to face me directly, causing the car to quiver on the wire.

“Because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go. I knew that if I told you before I knew for sure, you would try to persuade me to go because it’s ‘the right thing.’ And I didn’t want my decision to be based on what you thought was the best thing for me, but what I thought was the best thing for me.”

“How do you know that I wouldn’t beg you to come to New York?”

“Because I know you.”

He was right. I would never, ever beg. No matter how much I wanted to.

“So when do you leave?”

“Well, that’s the thing.” He paused. “I’m driving out next week.”

“Next week? As in seven days from now.”

“Six, actually.”

“Six.”

“Yes, Thursday.”

I watched a frat boy try to urinate into a trash can.

“We won’t even have the summer?”

“No.” And then, very calmly: “But Jessica, we have all the time in the world.”

Marcus truly believes this. He believes we have our whole lives together. Forever.

I was going to say how this is easy for him to believe because he is a romantic. I was going to point out how I am a realist. Actually, how I am a defensive pessimist. I always assume the worst, so if the reality is even a wee bit better than my disaster scenario, it’s a cause for celebration.

I was going to say all of this, but then I thought, Marcus has never been wrong about anything so far. Couldn’t he be right about us, too?

I could fly out to see him next year when our family visits Bethany, G-Money, and the baby. Pepe and I could take a cross-country drive together to see him and Bridget. Maybe this is all irrelevant, since we will be if we are meant to be, regardless of how often we see each other. If my experience with Hope has proven anything, it’s that true friendship can survive, even thrive, despite the distance. Why can’t it be the same for Marcus and me?

I shut up my mouth and my brain. I put my head on his shoulder and vowed to enjoy the rest of the ride with Marcus, no matter how long it lasts.

the thirtieth

Graduation Day: I am officially free. I finally feel it, too.

As a reflection of just how much I don’t care, I totally neglected to mention that Len beat me out for valedictorian by two-tenths of a point. Even with our history, this was absolutely fine by me because being at the tippy-top of the class meant way more to him than it did to me. When we lined up in our red and white graduation gowns, numbers one and two leading the rest of the Class of 2002, I very graciously congratulated him.

“You worked hard,” I said. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

“I mean, you really worked for it. You did hours of homework every night. I didn’t bring a book home all year.”

“Um.”

Okay. So I wasn’t thoroughly gracious. String me up.

Since I was number two, I got to give my speech first—you know, like the opening act to the headliner. As far as I was concerned, this was the advantageous spot. Despite my blasé acceptance of being second best, I wanted to blow Len’s speech away.

I took my own advice about not slamming people just for the sake of slamming people and opted against the tirade from a few pages back. Besides, that would’ve been too predictable. Instead, I surprised myself and the audience by saying something altogether unlike the