Page 68 of Going the Distance
Chapter 17
Lee stayed the night, sleeping on the couch with the bucket near his head. I stayed awake as long as I could, watching him, but eventually I fell asleep, too. We both woke up when my dad came downstairs to make coffee, around eight.
“Shit,” Lee muttered, smacking his lips. “Shit.”
“I think that’s an understatement, but yeah.”
“Shit.”
He dragged himself up, and I gave him the silent treatment while he drank some water, then coffee, then ate six slices of toast. I got dressed while he took a shower and tossed him one of his sweatshirts from my closet when he came back into my room in his jeans, hair still wet. At least he looked more human now. Less ashy and hungover zombie. His voice was rough and his eyes were bloodshot. He dragged his feet as he crossed the room toward me and leaned against me. I pushed him away.
“Elle? Shelly, c’mon. Please. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry I was such a mess and you had to take care of me. I’m sorry I was such a jerk.”
“You know, Lee, that’s not even why I’m mad. I’m mad because you really hurt Rachel. She wouldn’t have cared that you were at that party. She’s hurt because you lied about it. You know how I felt when I heard Noah on the phone to Amanda? That’s exactly the kind of hurt Rachel’s feeling.”
“I know. I know. God, I know.”
“Don’t you have anything else to say? We did this before, remember? You were an asshole at a party, apologized the next day, and we moved on. But I’m not doing this with you again, Lee. I can’t do this every time there’s a party. You need to get your shit together. I need to get my shit together, too, I know, but…I’m being an annoying, sad potato. You’re—”
“Please don’t say wrecking ball. Because you know I’ll have to start singing.”
I jutted one hip out, crossing my arms, and Lee’s smile disappeared.
“Sorry.”
“Seriously. Next time, I’m not gonna help you out like this. You need to make it up to Rachel.”
“I know. Shelly, honestly, I owe you for, like, the rest of my life. I’ll head straight over to Rachel’s, and—”
“No, you’re not. You’re going home to sit feeling guilty. Me and Rachel are going to the mall. Third wheel, myass.”
• • •
“He’s really sorry?”
“Yes, but c’mon. No boy talk. Remember? I’m so sick of feeling sorry for myself and stewing over the whole breakup and, trust me, you don’t need to get started on that.”
I understood now why Levi had deleted all the pictures of him and his ex from his social media. It was tough, seeing them. Remembering how good things had been. How much I’d loved Noah. How much I’d thought he’d lovedme.
The less I thought about it, the more I could at least pretend I was moving on.
Rachel squared her shoulders. “No, you’re…you’re right. No boys, no pity parties. Can we talk about college? Or is that on your banned list, too?”
“Funny.”
“My mom’s been on me to apply to Yale, but I don’t know. I had a cousin who went there and I visited her last year for a weekend, and…I just didn’t feel it, you know? You know when you know you don’t like something?”
“So don’t apply.”
“Yeah, but…I don’t know. There’s just something about Yale. The name, I mean. It’s so prestigious…”
Noah had said something like that to me when he got his acceptance letter to Harvard.
I shook the thought away. Ihadto stop thinking about him.
“A prestigious college won’t mean anything if you’re miserable for the next four years of your life.”
“Okay, miserable is taking it a little far.” Rachel smiled. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. Have you thought about which colleges you’re applying to yet?”
