How They Met, and Other Stories(28)
Author: David Levithan

He didn’t stop sitting at my table, even on those days when Bev was busy and it was just him and me and a slowly sipped soda. By May he was asking me which teachers I’d have next year, even though I didn’t know yet. With other customers, he always seemed to be searching for something to say. Sheryl would still come in and they’d still kiss, but like me with my half-mushroom, half-plain pizza—the usual—Seth seemed to have grown tired of it.

I became a little more forthcoming. I complimented him on his shirts, which were now branching out from the red and white stripes. I even went so far as to say one of them really brought out the green of his eyes. He said thank you but didn’t take the compliment with him when he left. I could tell. I congratulated him when a lacrosse game went well, and he seemed genuinely touched that I’d been in the stands. He started slipping me free Diet Cokes. I left him drawings folded in napkins.

My mood about the whole thing swung wildly. Sometimes I’d think I was just this eighth-grade pain in the ass, this little sister, this pest. But then I’d be talking to Bev and we’d have it all planned out. We’d get Seth to break up with Sheryl. He’d take all of college to recover from it. If he brought home a girlfriend from Northwestern, we’d break them up, too. After college, when he moved back to our town, his heartbreak would be old enough to have healed. I would be a second-semester senior. He’d see me and realize I’d always been there for him, that I was everything he’d been looking for in all of the others, that I was his true chance at love.

Bev invited him to her play, but he couldn’t make it. I showed him my ninth-grade schedule when it came, and he gave me all the dirt. Lacrosse season was now over. Soon school would be over, too, and we’d be in that magic hour between classes and summer. Hal announced that he was throwing Seth a graduation party, and seemed pleased when Seth invited us. We were happy beyond words. We had no idea what we’d wear, but we both knew it had to be something new.

Then, a week before graduation, there was the big fight. Sheryl screeched into the parking lot, slammed the door, pushed her way into the dining room, and laid right into Seth. If Hal had been around, he would have stopped it with a look. But he was nowhere to be seen—he’d left Seth in charge—and so Sheryl was unopposed, yelling about something small—I think it was prom pictures—and making it really big. With an eye to the customers, Seth told her to quiet down. Big mistake. Now she was raging about how she would not be quiet because she knew what was at stake. Seth just stood there, helpless. Finally she wore herself out and slammed back to her car. Seth returned to work. I wanted to shoot a look at Bev, but she was out shopping with her mother. I was on my own. I finished my soda and stayed where I was. I looked at Seth until I caught his eye. When everything seemed calm, he came and sat down.

For the first time in my life as a flirt—as something more than just a girl—I found the words. They didn’t simply appear. I reasoned them out. I spoke them. Because they were true, and I didn’t need anything more than that. “She doesn’t deserve you,” I said, and before he could dispute it, I continued. “She takes and takes and takes, but she doesn’t take the right things. And she doesn’t give the right things back. You’re going away now. You don’t need her. You probably never needed her. She’s going to make it hell for you, but it’s over. You know that. Free yourself.”

He looked at me like I was some kind of oracle. In the best of all worlds, it would’ve been a look of love, an understanding that I was the one, I was it. But it wasn’t that. Instead it was something almost as sweet—that mix of recognition and appreciation. That gift of worth.

A party of eight came in the door, the bell ringing their arrival. Seth didn’t say anything. He just stood up and went to seat them. He looked back at me once before he got their menus. Taking me in, or at least my words. I almost waved.

I don’t know what he said to her. I like to think it was Even Rebecca, the girl at the pizza place, knows you’re not right for me. Whatever the case, by the time graduation arrived, Seth’s parents and Sheryl’s parents were talking to one another but Sheryl and Seth weren’t. I was lucky—it didn’t rain that year, so graduation was on the football field and I got to be there. When Seth’s name was called, Bev and I cheered at the top of our lungs. We weren’t the only ones, so maybe he heard us and maybe he didn’t. What was important was that he could have.

Bev and I ran home and changed. Our parents didn’t know what to make of the situation, but they went along nonetheless. I was wearing a blue dress from Express, the hem just above my knee, the collar a sailor cut. Bev, after buying many runner-up outfits, ended up wearing her favorite pink sweater set and white pants with new flowered sandals. Seth gave us each a hug when we arrived, then went to talk to his relatives. We were stranded—even the pizzeria seemed unfamiliar, decorated with streamers and banners, serving food that wasn’t all pizza. We had both chipped in to get Seth a present. When he came back, we asked him to open it. It was an address book for him to take to college. (Bev had wanted to write our addresses in it, but I told her that was way too much.) “Ansel Adams,” he said with excitement. “How did you know he’s my favorite?” Bev (bless her) said it had been my choice, that I had just known. This got us each another hug, and an introduction to some of Seth’s cousins.

Our eighth-grade graduation was the next day. We were going to high school now. But first we were going to camp. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to spend the summer sipping Diet Cokes and snatching Seth’s free moments like fireflies. I argued with my bewildered parents. I even risked a tantrum. They would not give. But you love camp, they said. Arrangements had been made. Checks had been sent. I’d be leaving next week.

As if this wasn’t hard enough, Seth was going to be in college by the time Bev and I got back from our respective camps. He looked sad when he told us this, but it was small consolation. That week was an extreme bittersweet.

The dreaded Wednesday, the day before I left, I spent the morning seeing Bev off to camp. There was a slight delay—the bus had a flat on its way to the parking-lot pickup. Bev leaned over to me and said, “Go. It’s okay. Just write and tell me what happens.” I hugged her tight and ran the thirty minutes to La Rota, stopping a little short to catch my breath.

Seth was there. I looked at him for a minute in the window, my reflection laid atop his body. I knew I would never forget him; I was recording it all now so I would remember him right. Then I walked in, bell ringing, Seth smiling. “The usual?” he asked, and we both laughed. It was a little before lunchtime—nobody else was around. Hal said hi to me and told Seth he’d cover the other tables. So for the first time, Seth and I sat at the table for a whole half hour, him asking about camp, me asking about his summer and college. He stole a slice from me. I didn’t care.