“You could just open that like a normal person,” I tell him.
“Nah, let’s get to the good stuff fast.” He hands me my Small Fatburger and fries. “How’re you doing or whatever?”
“Your concern is overwhelming.” I bite a fry in half. “I’m fine or whatever.”
“Hey, I’m concerned. I let you trap us in this car with all your feelings.”
I realize I’m smiling.
“You get the job yet?” he asks me.
“No, but …” I shrug. “I did some good work this week. Hopefully it wasn’t unethical.”
“Nothing’s unethical in business,” Jax says. “Or so Jackson Stockton the First says.”
“Gross,” I say, and then, “I’m sorry.”
“You ready to meet new girls yet?”
“Emphatically no.” I decide not even to bring up how unlikely that possibility seems. Even if there were girls who’d be interested—which by no means feels like the reality I live in—what does it matter when my heart is this broken? Can hearts stay broken forever? Is that me from now on—just broken?
“Are you crying?” Jax asks with a horrified edge to his voice.
“No!” I am lying. Lying and crying.
He sort of scatters extra napkins near my face, which—despite my tears—makes me burst into laughter.
“Why are boys so scared of girl feelings?” I ask.
“Abbs, I’m a feminist,” he says. “I’m equally scared of all feelings.”
CHAPTER 25
Someone taps on my door on Saturday morning while I’m still in bed. I try ignoring it, but it keeps getting louder. I turn to face the wall, because Mom and/or Dad should know better, but then I hear footsteps in my room.
“Get up, lazy butt,” says a voice so familiar I can’t believe it’s even real. But I turn around and Rachel’s in my room.
“I took a red eye.” She flops onto the bed next to me. “Surprise.”
“Oh my god.” I sit up in a flash. “I can’t believe you’re here. I haven’t seen you since Christmas. Did you come home because of my breakup? Is it that big of a disaster? Also, did you just say lazy butt?”
“No, I just …” She rolls her eyes. “I missed you. I even missed Mom and Dad. And the internship’s … fine.”
“How’s Paul?” I ask. I’d like to say that after falling in love this summer I’m more understanding about the choices people make in relationships, but I still think that Paul’s a goober. Hopefully this doesn’t make me overly judgmental or hypocritical.
“He’s fine,” she says. “I don’t know. Relationships are hard, Abby.”
“Tell me about it,” I say, and she laughs.
“You’re my baby sister. You’re not allowed to be the jaded one.” She stretches her arms out above her head. “I need to finish sleeping. Wait, what’s on my bed?”
“Tote bags,” I say. “Eat Healthy With Norah! branded tote bags.”
“I’ve definitely been gone too long.” She settles under my covers. “Move over. You’re taking up too much space.”
“You’re in my bed!” But I shift closer to the wall. “Actually, I don’t even care if you came home because I’m sad and pathetic. I’m really glad.”
Rachel smiles with her eyes closed. “Your being sad and pathetic is just a lucky coincidence.”
“I’m so glad you’re home,” I say. “It’s been so weird without you here.”
Somehow, she’s already asleep.
Mom and Dad force us up at a reasonable hour, and Mom makes a huge welcome-home breakfast. I’m set to mutually eye-roll with Rachel over whatever solution Mom’s invented today, but there are mixed greens and a fruit salad and the most delicious egg white frittata I’ve ever had. Okay, potentially it’s the only egg white frittata I’ve ever had, but I can’t imagine any others would even be in the running.
Mom’s cooking doesn’t feel like a solution today, even though everything’s healthy. For a moment, I think about the day in Jordi’s family’s kitchen, racing to seal empanadas, but I shake loose the memory.
I know Rachel being home is for a very limited time, but having all four of us around the table makes a lot feel right again. Maybe some stuff has been going right anyway, but it’s easier to feel it with Rachel in the house. Of course, after next year, I’ll be away, too, but right now that feels a very long time from now. I have to get through the rest of August, after all, before I can even think about next year.
Maliah meets me at Lemonberry when I get off work on Monday. Jordi has to walk by her to leave, and for once I look forward to the glare I expect from my best friend in Jordi’s direction. But for once, it doesn’t come.
“I always thought this would look cute on you,” I tell Maliah, holding up a short white dress with an asymmetrical neckline. “And it’s on sale!”
She takes the dress from me. “When I’m successful, I’m hiring you as my stylist.”
“If you can even afford me,” I say, which makes her laugh. “Do you want to try it on?”
“Next time,” she says. “Or whichever time I’m not wearing neon red underwear.”
“I didn’t even realize that red could be neon,” I say and wave good-bye to an unimpressed Paige before walking out into the late afternoon sunshine. “Where are we going? Did you plan something?”
“Who am I, Jax?” She points to her car. “I’m not the one who has weird elaborate little activities lined up.”
“They aren’t weird or elaborate,” I say. “They’re literally eating burgers at a bunch of places. If we do anything else it’s because of me, because I don’t want to die of a heart attack at seventeen from all these burgers. Hikes and walks are necessary.”
“I think it bothers Trevor that Jax didn’t ask him to eat all those burgers,” Maliah says. “But he’s being such a boy about his feelings and not wanting to admit it.”
“I think Jax was the same way about all the time Trevor spends with you, though,” I say. “I don’t know if
