Page 32 of Fake It Till You Break It
Mia gaped. “How did you know I’d be out here?”
I pointed at the sky. “There’s a meteor shower tonight. Where else would you be?”
“But how did you…” She scowled. “Wait, don’t tell me that you already spotted one.”
“Nah, just saw an article about it online,” I lied so she wouldn’t freak out. I pulled out the Popsicles and held them up like a peace offering. “So could I come up there? I come bearing gifts.”
Her lips pursed for a moment. “Okay. But only because I’m starving. These meteors are taking their sweet time.”
Handing over the ice cream, I climbed the metal ladder on the side of the house and sank down to sit beside her. The entire “deck” was pretty spacious. Probably about seven feet all around. There was enough room for both of us to stretch out if we wanted to. “You might have to stay out here until morning again. Think you can make it?”
Already licking one of the popsicles, Mia patted at a pillow and a lumpy blue comforter beside her leg. “I’ve got it covered. I’m determined to cross something off the list this year if it’s the last thing I do.”
“This is a lot easier than flying to the Amazon to zip-line through the forest.” I took the other ice cream from her and bit down. Smooth and icy. And a little bit tart. Mom made these fresh with oranges she bought just the other day. “So how are things going between you and Ben?”
Her head jerked up. “What?”
Damn, real slick, Jake.I didn’t mean to burst out with that right away. I wanted to casually bring it up. Slip it in the conversation. Guess there was no recovering now. “It’s just… he stopped by earlier.”
“Yeah, I know. He called me.”
“Oh, so you already talked to him.” I nodded to myself even though my stomach rumbled uncomfortably. “So what’s going on between you two? Are you dating?”
Her cheeks flushed. “We’re… getting to know each other. He’s nice.”
Nice? Girl Scouts were nice. Getting extra butter on your popcorn was nice. Did that mean shedidn’tlike him? Or it meant that shedid? And why did I care so much? I don’t know why this was so important to me. I just… wanted to know.
Mia didn’t say anything else and continued slurping her ice cream. Completely absorbed in licking the melted drops running down her hand, she barely paid any attention to me. Just like when we were kids. It was sort of nice to see that some things didn’t change.
We were quiet only for a few minutes, but it stretched and felt like an hour. Even the wind rustling through the leaves was too loud. I could feel her eyes looking over at me, but every time I looked at her, she’d look away. I think we were both very aware of the fact that this was the first time we’d been alone since our fight. I know I was.
What should I do? Should I bring it up? Never mention it again?
To be honest, I was a fan of option two, but our fight kept racing through my mind the past few days. Poking at me like an annoying thorn in my side.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Listen… that day—”
“I’m sorry,” she burst out. Her cheeks were flushed in the moonlight, but she cleared her throat and said it again. “I’m sorry about what I said. You know, about you and… Finn. And the whole music thing. I was being a jerk.”
I expected my stomach to clench up like it always did when someone mentioned Finn’s name, but it didn’t. “It’s fine. And I’m sorry about all the theater stuff. I didn’t mean to…”
Mia waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. You were angry. I was pretty pissed, too. Let’s just call a truce and forget about it, okay?”
“Okay, but just so you know, I was wrong. You can do whatever you want. In fact, I can picture your name in Broadway lights someday.” I motioned a sign on the night sky above us. “Big and bright.”
“You’re delusional.” With a laugh, she wrapped her arms around her legs. Her chin cradled perfectly in the nook between her knees. “But kind of sweet sometimes, I guess.”
I wanted to argue with her. I wasn’t delusional. I really did think she was capable of anything. There was no one like Mia anywhere.
“Let me ask you something.” Her eyes lowered to our feet as she traced the wood grain. “If you could talk to Finn, right now, and say anything you want, what would you say?”
Her question caught me off guard. What would I say to him? Yell at him? Curse him out? I spent so much of the past two years trying to forget I had a brother that I honestly didn’t know how I would talk to him now.
Finn was someone I used to talk to every day of my life until I was fifteen. Someone I sang with and posted videos on YouTube with. He was the only person who understood how important music was to me. To both of us. That it was a way to release our feelings. Especially when we couldn’t figure something out. And it made us happy. I wasn’t as good of a singer as Finn, but I did like to write songs. Finn even offered to sing anything I wrote. But he never had a chance to before he left.
Our three thousand subscribers knew his voice. Yet now he was like a stranger. I didn’t even know if I could remember what he sounded like. Did he have a raspy voice? Did he sound like me? Did he stutter?
That was stupid. I knew he didn’t stutter.
