“Psst.” The hall light outside my open bedroom door backlit Cooper, who now stood there. “You really went to sleep?” he asked. “It’s so early.”
“I told you I was.”
He came in and sat on the floor next to my bed. “Your grandpa just killed my neck.”
“I know. That was kind of the point. By the way, I did it. I asked Elliot out.”
Cooper’s teeth glowed white in my dark room. “You did?”
I had. I’d called him and asked if he wanted to go to the party with me, and he’d said yes. I was forcing myself into a new experience, hoping for something to change. I had obviously gone out with guys before. It was just that I hadn’t in the last year. “I did.”
“Awesome. This is going to be so fun.”
I pulled a pillow against my chest and closed my eyes. How come it sounded like the opposite of that to me? “So fun.”
I must not have said it with the proper amount of enthusiasm, because Cooper quietly said, “You should give him a chance, though. He seems like a really nice guy.”
I nodded, my eyes still closed. “Okay, I’ll give him a chance.”
Even behind my closed lids I could feel the whole room light up with Cooper’s smile, and my entire being glowed. “Good,” he said.
“Good,” I repeated, pillow tight against my chest.
He ran a hand through my hair. “Good night.”
When I opened my eyes he was gone, the door closed behind him. My scalp still tingled from where his fingers had been.
“Good night,” I whispered.
SIXTEEN
Do you want to meet at the party or drive over together?
I had been leaning against the handle of a mop in the museum, staring at a painting of an apple cut in half, its insides blue, happy to finally be released from the ticket counter, when the text from Elliot came in. I had kind of assumed that a date meant we were driving over together, but now that he was giving me an option, I couldn’t decide what I wanted.
The party was happening five days from now. I wanted to tell him that I changed my mind. That I did the Fourth of July on the pier. I watched the fireworks light sections of the ocean bright blue or green or pink. And I watched those same colors reflected in Cooper’s eyes. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? I had been doing the same things day after day and year after year and expecting different results. Who had said that was the definition of insanity? Einstein? Whoever it was had seen inside my head.
My thumbs were poised ready to type something back when Mr. Wallace came down the hall. “Abby, can you take a summer preschool group through the museum Saturday at four? It was a last-minute request and all my docents are busy.”
“Saturday?”
“Yes. I know you don’t normally do tours, but it would really help me out.”
Taking a group through the museum was like a dream job for me. Cooper had another race on Saturday. He’d texted me about it just that morning. It started at two, though. I just wouldn’t be able to celebrate afterward. “Yes,” I said. “I’ll be here.”
“Great. Thank you. Make sure there’s a blazer that fits you in the closet.” Mr. Wallace looked at the mop, the painting next to me, then my phone. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” I held up my phone. “My brain hit pause while it was trying to make a decision.”
He gave an agreeable grunt. “I hate it when that happens.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Mr. Wallace started to walk away. “I have two weeks left, right?” I called after him.
He turned with a confused face on. “No, the tour will be this Saturday.”
“Right. I know. I mean for the showcase. You’re informing applicants in two weeks, right?”
“Yes. But I thought we talked about this.” His face had a tired look that seemed to say, this is why I had banished you to the ticket counter—to avoid this conversation.
“I want a chance. I’m working on my depth.”
“I can’t imagine that in this short of time anything has changed enough in your technique that will affect my decision.”
“I just want a chance to prove myself.”
He sighed a heavy sigh, and it was probably only the super-pathetic pleading face that I’d put on that made him say, “I’ll take a look.”
“Thank you!”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Abby. You don’t meet my age requirement, and you have a lot of really strong competition.” With that he finished walking away.
It was a reluctant yes, but it gave me the hope I needed to continue on my quest.
I moved to put the mop back in the bucket when I realized I still held my phone with the open text window. I sent two texts. The first was to Elliot.
Let’s just meet there.
I was already changing something by going to the party in the first place. I didn’t want to feel trapped, though.
The second text was to Cooper.
Hey, I won’t be able to celebrate after your race on Saturday. I will be trying to convince four-year-olds that art is more interesting than snack time.
I tucked my phone away and dipped the mop into the soapy water. My phone buzzed against my thigh before I even had time to take it out again. I thought it would be Elliot, but it was Cooper.
You can’t even convince me that art is more interesting than snack time. How will you ever accomplish this?
Not sure. Especially when half the art is replications of food.
But you’ll still make the race, right?
For sure.
Thanks.
And I need to finish up my list and two more paintings.
Help me think of something else.
I’ll ponder it.
Have you finished your classic?
No.
Me neither, I texted.
Okay. I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a car with me either.
My brows went down in confusion before I realized I was reading a pop-up text from Elliot.
I responded. It’s not about that. It’s more about not wanting to be trapped at the party.
We can leave anytime you want.
My phone buzzed again before I had time to answer Elliot. What does epoch of incredulity mean anyway? Cooper was asking. I vaguely remembered that line from the beginning of A Tale of Two Cities.
Did you start over? I gave you the summary. Did you not trust my summary?
I switched back to Elliot’s text and answered. Okay, I’ll drive over with you. Do you have my address? It’s what I had originally planned anyway.
No, but if I’m going to read the book, I had to at least read that famous paragraph. I don’t do things halfway, Cooper responded.
Except chemistry projects. And English papers. And cleaning your bathroom.
Fine. Things I care about.
I smiled. He cared about the list. That made me happy.
Another text from Elliot popped up. I already know where you live. But I’m not a stalker. My best friend lives on your street and I saw you pull into your driveway a while back.
Who’s your best friend?
To Cooper I wrote: It’s a period of skepticism. Or disbelief.
You are. Why? Cooper wrote back less than a second after I had hit send.
I am? What did that mean? I was a period of disbelief? I kind of felt like I was going through a bit of skepticism right now in regard to him, but he couldn’t possibly know that. I looked at the text again. Oops. I’d crossed texts.