Page 74 of The Lookback
“That’s a little dramatic,” I say. “If you’d been willing to talk to me?—”
“Icouldn’t,” Jed says. “I’ve tried, believe me, but I keep thinking. . .” He sighs. “Just go, get your photo, and then go home.”
I realize that we’re not going to get anywhere big right now, not with a dozen people watching us, but at least he’s talking to me. It’s progress, right? It has to be.
After my photo with Clyde, I look around for Tommy, but both he and Jed are gone. I can’t find them anywhere. I try riding my bike to Jed’s house to talk to him more, but his family isn’t home. They must have gone out to get food or something.
I should go home. I should tell my mom and dad what happened before they hear about it from, well, from most anyone. But instead, I find myself pedaling over to Tommy’s place. “Just to tell him thank you,” I tell myself.
But in the moment they announced that I had won, and that Jed and I would be prom king and queen, and in the second that Jed actually spoke to me, I wasn’t as elated as I thought I’d be.
I was confused.
Over the past two years, I’ve thought a few times that maybe, just maybe, Tommy and I. . .but each time, I’ve been wrong. Tommy has always inadvertently shown me just how wrong I was.
I told myself I’d never find myself here again.
But I can’t help it.
I pedal to Tommy’s house with the flimsy excuse that I need to thank him, but really, I want to tell him that Ilikehim. It’s not the same as I felt about Clyde, or even about Jed, either. No, when I think about Tommy, I’m not elated or excited or fizzy.
I’m nervous.
I want to crawl out of my own skin and dance around. I feel far too small for my own body, and I want to touch his hand, and the thought of that makes me want to die somehow, too.
It’s confusing and stressful and I can’tnotsee him.
Even if I’m about to look like an idiot yet again.
Only, when I get to Tommy’s house, he and his mom are loading his dad up in the car, and his mom’s crying, and I watch stupidly as they drive away, bound for the hospital in Vernal.
The next morning, I hear that his dad died.
A few days later, Tommy and his mother are both gone, never to return.
18
AMANDA
When I was in high school, my most epic love story was when my boyfriend kissed me in front of the lockers for the whole school to see. He was tall, and he had facial hair, and I practically swooned, right up until he mouth-mauled me, anyway.
Meanwhile, Mandy’s high school love triangle could easily be turned into a full-length movie. Maybe it would be a tragedy, à la Romeo and Juliet, but still.
“You really never saw him again?” Maren looks incredulous. “How can that be?”
“Obviously I saw him again,” Mandy says. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“She lived with him when she was. . .” Emery looks at her shoes. She hates when I get all angry with Mandy over it. “Anyway, she’s seen him.”
“Yeah, but was that the first time you saw him since high school?” Maren presses. “When you went out there last year?”
Mandy sighs. “We’ve been in contact this whole time. Letters. The occasional phone call.”
“I think it’s romantic,” I say.
“But it’s nothing but lies,” Maren says. “He finally sees her after sixty years, and he thinks she’s a widow, mourning the death of her beloved husband.” Maren snorts. “I mean, come on.”
“I’m too old for epic romance,” Mandy says. “I have a bad knee and a heart that barely works.”
