Page 49 of Saving Barrette

Something in her tone, or maybe just the words she uses that sends a shot of adrenaline through me. I wonder if he said anything to her about the other night when I returned his shirt. But I don’t get the chance to ask before she sighs into the phone again. “I get why it’s hard, Asa,” she says, her tone soft and gentle. “You’re just looking out for me, and I’m just that girl… one mental break down from being Britany Spears in 2007 and shaving my head.”

I laugh.

“What?”

“I’m trying to picture you with a shaved head.” I let out a low whistle. “It’s pretty hot.”

“You’re the worst.” She laughs and I hear a zipper sound in the background.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m sucking on those Sour Patch Kids you got me, and packing.”

I stop walking. “Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” I’d been nervous to hear what her plans were.

“No, I’m going to Bellingham with Joey. I guess her mom makes a mean smoked turkey. She’s picking me up in a few minutes.”

“That sounds like fun.” I sigh in relief. That makes me feel so much better. She hasn’t been home to Boston Harbor since she left last August, and I don’t think she ever plans to return. I can’t say I blame her on that one. I certainly didn’t want her on campus without me here, and then part of me wishes she would come with me to my dad’s.

Barrette’s gentle breathing brings me back to the moment when she asks, “You could come with us.”

“I’d love to, I really would, but I promised my dad I’d come home this year.” I hate that I made that stupid promise. What the fuck was I thinking? Dinner with him, or dinner and possibly sex with Barrette someplace other than her fucking dorm room. I’m definitely not just thinking about sex. I’m not, but… it’s unfortunately at the forefront of my mind a lot of the times. It’s irritating.

I’m at my dorm room when she makes a humph sound. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Can I see you when you get back?”

I smile and breathe in. At least she doesn’t hate me after my temper tantrum the other night. “I’d like that.”

“It’s a date then….” And then she gasps. “Well, I just mean, a date as in a plan. Not like a boyfriend-slash-girlfriend way.”

I laugh again and flop down on my bed. “Barrette?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay to call me your boyfriend.” I wish we were saying this in person, but I guess I might as well just say it now.

“I didn’t, I mean….” Her words trail off in a jumbled mess before she growls.

“What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment, and I can just imagine her chewing on her lip and worrying about what to say next. “You make me crazy.”

I pinch my eyebrows together and sit up. “Uh, okay. What’s that mean?”

“I just mean you make my heart go crazy and I lose my words.” She sniffs and I think she’s crying. Panic hits my chest and I flip the phone over to Facetime. She growls again but accepts it. “Damn you!”

“Sorry, but I had to see your face for this next part.”

Barrette scrunches her nose up and rolls her eyes like she knows what’s coming, but asks, “What part?” anyway.

“The part where I tell you that you’re more than a girlfriend and you know that. You’re, in the cheesiest way I can explain it, everything to me.”

And she’s crying, her attention on her door when there’s a knock at it. “I have to go. Joey’s here.”

“Barrette?” I ask again, grinning.

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