Page 13 of The Lookback

“I can talk to her,” Jed says, “but even if I do, it doesn’t change anything.” He’s staring at Tommy. “It’ll just make things even harder. Tell her to drop it.”

We all stand like that for at least thirty seconds, maybe longer, before I finally toss the bag on the ground in disgust. “Someone who knows how stupid he’s being and doesn’t fix it is the biggest idiot of all.”

Jed takes his bag, gets on his bike, and pedals off.

“This whole thing is a waste of time,” I say.

“The play?” Tommy’s shoulders droop, the strap from one side of my backpack sliding off.

He’s been trying so hard—the whole thing was his idea. He wants to help, so it’s not his fault that Jed’s a bull-headed idiot.

Standing outside the school, one hand on his bike, two backpacks strapped to him, Tommy looks like the kind of person who slays dragons. The kind of person who doesn’t run away when things are hard. The kind of person who Ishouldbe spending my time on instead of the stubborn moron who just rode away.

That’s the moment when I realize that I mightlikeTommy Collins.

5

MANDY

Since the day Clyde told me he was leaving for college. . .and we needed to break up, I’ve regretted going with him to that homecoming dance. Sure, we had a fun year. Clyde’s like a basset hound set to sniff out excitement, and that makes him the constant center of attention.

When you’re with him, people orbit around you, too.

But sometimes when we were together, I still felt strangely lonely, even while surrounded by a crowd. Everyone’s attention was on him, not me, and I felt almost like a decoration. I didn’t like that feeling.

When he left me, I figured Jed would finally forgive me. He’d take pity on how I’d been cast aside, and he’d come back around. He never did, of course. In fact, if anything, after Clyde left, Jed acted like he was angrier. He wouldn’t even look at me in class. He sat all the way on the opposite end of the cafeteria at lunch. He would pretend he couldn’t even see me.

That made me look at him more, and comparing him to his brother was something I couldn’t help doing. He wasn’t quite as tall, but he was still the tallest boy at Manila High School. His features weren’t quite as sharp or as bright as Clyde’s, and he didn’t command the attention of everyone in the room. But he did play basketball nearly as well, and he had a sort of quiet dignity his brother never had.

Clyde scored better than Jed on tests and homework assignments, but I’m not quite sure why. He always knew the answers to every question he was asked, and he was at least as bright. Maybe it was that Jed never cared about his grades, because he had no intention of leaving for college. Either way, once Clyde was gone, I realized exactly what I had lost for my year of fame.

My best friend.

Someone I could trust.

The only person who really saw me.

But none of my efforts—not bribery, cajoling, group project manipulation, or even trying activities he liked in the hopes of seeing more of him—made any difference. Where my best friend used to be, there was a very handsome, very angry brick wall.

Tommy’s play actually got the brick wall talking, briefly, but no matter how hard I doubled down, I kept smashing my nose. Until I finally stopped trying to force it. After I tried to steal his backpack and he still wouldn’t talk to me, I gave up.

Miraculously, once I stop pressing, he finally seems to relax. In fact, on the one day a week that Jed comes to practice, I can almost pretend that we’re like before.

Uncomplicated.

Best friends again.

Healed from my bad decisions.

While we’re in rehearsal, he smiles at me when King Mongkut would, and it’s the exact same smile I’ve always known. It’s as familiar as my own kitchen counter. As familiar as the bench seat of my dad’s car. Something in my heart eases as his anger seems to fade, and I wonder whether we might be making some real progress, finally.

Jed’s always been the brother I felt safe with. He was the brother who cared about me, no matter what. It feels like I’m getting a little bit of that back.

And that confuses me.

At the beginning of the year, I thought I liked Jed. I thought that’s why he was angry with me—he liked me too, and I chose wrong. But can I like more than one person? No, right? So what do I feel about Tommy? Liking Clyde is what ticked Jed off last time. As the play approaches, I start to wonder: if I had to pick between them, which one would I choose?

And as it turns out, I do have to choose.

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