Page 11 of Pick One
Teagan:Why are you not answering me, Mr. Reliable?
Teagan:You will recall that failing to answer a text message is second only to people who use the thumbs-up on Facebook Messenger in Teagan’s Hierarchy of Annoyance.
Then, time-stamped six minutes later…
Teagan:OMG. I have major, MAJOR news to share!! Like, an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime, holy-shit, unexpected but REALLY GOOD thing just happened, and my emotions are all over the place, and I need my CALM AND STEADY BFF to talk me down. WHY ARE YOU NOT HERE?
Teagan:No, it’s fine. It’s FINE. I’m composing myself and then jumping on a Zoom call in 10 mins, so now you’re gonna have to wait until you get home for me to tell you all about it.
Teagan:But actually, if all goes well, I think we need to postpone Netflix Night!
Teagan:Just until tomorrow night, I mean. Would you mind?
Teagan:(Turns out I MIGHT be able to wait one more night to find out if Abe is happy.)
Teagan:Johnnnn. You’re still not answering. I swear, if you’re still working right now, I’ll…
Teagan:Actually, I don’t know what I’ll do. But it’s gonna be TERRIBLE.
Teagan:When I submit my list of Top Ten Most Tragically Forsaken Humans in History to Buzzfeed and put my own name at the top, you’ll know why and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.
I grinned, feeling the slight panic that had gripped me in Marie’s office fade as I read Teagan’s messages. It was highly ironic that he called me calm and steady when I was in the midst of a really annoying and uncharacteristic freak-out overhim, but just seeing his messages—and his egregious use of capital letters—on the screen helped level me out.
Another true fact? There were times when I thought of the Hannabury job and all the things it would give me—smaller classes where I could really get to know my students, a slower pace of life, closeness with my family—and wondered if maybe I was foolish for not jumping at the chance I was being offered.
But then I’d have a moment like this one, reading Teagan’s messages, when I’d remember with crystal clarity what I could and could not live without.
And that was why I would not be moving to Vermont.
Without thinking, I typed out a quick reply.
Me:Sorry! Marie needed to talk to me urgently. I’m for real leaving now though. What’s the big news? Is there a puppy available at the shelter? Because I’m still not sure our place is big enough.
I hit Send. Then I realized my error.
Teagan was almost definitely going to ask what I’d been urgently talking with Marie about. If he learned there was a job offer from Hannabury on the table, he’d begin packing my bagsforme, because he knew how much I loved the place. If I told him I wasn’t going, he’d demand to know why (and probably check me for signs of a concussion), and I could hardly tell him the truth—that I’d miss him too much.
People weren’t supposed to make life decisions based on how much they might miss theirvery platonic best friends, I was pretty sure.
And Jesus, if Teagan could see the way my palms sweat at the idea of him knowing how I actually felt, he’d never call me calm and steady ever again.
See, Teagan had gone on twenty-three dates in the past year, including one just the previous evening (and, yes, I’d counted those, too). He claimed all of them went “okay,” but when I asked why none of the guys got a second date, he’d turned beet red.
“I wouldn’t do that to them, Johnny,” he’d said. “It’s too hard being friends with someone who can’t give you what you really want.”
Needless to say, after that I’d been in no hurry to share my own unreciprocated feelings.
I wasn’t lucky enough to have a guy like Teagan fall for me in return. I wasn’t foolish enough to go back to living without him. I for sure wasn’t willing to risk it when I couldn’t calculate and mitigate the odds.
Back when I was a kid, I had a hoard of good-luck charms. A mountain of pennies I’d picked up, a sock my twin sister had worn when her kindergarten soccer team won the championship… even a piece of paper that Isworecould make any wish I wrote on it come true. Strangely, none of them seemed to work consistently, but I’d been both stubborn and timid as fuck. I’d been convinced that if I found the right charm, it would make me brave.
Then the summer I turned nine, while attempting to find a four-leaf clover that my cousin Arlosworehe’d seen growing near the woodpile in his backyard, I acquired the worst case of poison ivy known to man—so bad I couldn’t help scratching and ended up getting a terrible skin infection that landed me in the hospital on IV antibiotics, crying the whole damn time because Arlo was gonna get the clover before me and steal my luck.
Yes, really.
After a few days of this, my poor, exasperated Mom had thrown up her hands and told Ma Ann to “sit your son down and explain this stuff to him, Annie, before he concusses himself trying to steal a horse’s shoe next, for Christ’s sake.” And Ma Ann had done just that. She’d sat on the side of my hospital bed and explained in her quiet voice the concept of probability—the science behind luck—so that I’d stop running amok looking for “flippin’ clovers.”
It had been a life-changing moment for me.
