Frost

“Maybe you don’t have room to care about anyone else,” I blurted out. “Maybe that’s why you haven’t wanted a real girlfriend. You spend so much energy on Celeste and your parents, which I love, I love that you’re so good to your family. But maybe . . . maybe you don’t want anyone else. Maybe you’ll realize that once you’re with me.”

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

To my surprise, David started laughing.

“What?” I said. “What’s so funny?”

“That’s exactly what my shrink used to say. About expending all my emotional energy taking care of my family. Not saving any for friends or girlfriends.”

I smiled. “Really?” I said. “Wow. I’m good.” I glanced away from the road for a minute and our eyes met.

He put a hand on my knee. “I don’t think you have to worry about it, though,” he said. “I’m feeling pretty energized. Plenty of energy. No problem there.”

My palms felt sticky on the wheel. “Really?” I said.

“Really. Also . . .”

“What?”

“Not that I wouldn’t, if you needed me, but you don’t seem like you need anyone to take care of you. You’re pretty good at doing it yourself.”

I didn’t say anything, but I loved that he thought that. Sometimes I felt like it was the furthest thing from the truth.

“So . . .” I said.

“So?”

He was now stroking my leg with his thumb. A smile took over my body. Oh, God—every single one of my cells was smiling. I put a vision of Cubby’s disapproving eyes out of my mind.

“So maybe I could, I don’t know, suspend my moratorium,” I said. “On a trial basis, of course.”

Chapter 20

“ WASN’T THE EXORCIST FILMED HERE-” Celeste said when I pulled up in front of Viv’s family’s house in Brooklyn. It’s a four-story limestone town house, right across the street from Prospect Park, with a bowed front, Gothic carvings, and an imposing archway over the double door.

I would have laughed, but I was too stressed about the fact we were more than an hour and a half later than I’d originally said we’d be. I’d called Viv a few times and had tried to get them to go do something without us. But she’d insisted they were happy to wait.

A blond girl about our age answered the doorbell. “Come in, come in. They’re upstairs,” she said, hustling us into the marble foyer and pointing at the staircase ahead. From her accent, I figured she was the Swedish student who helped with housework and cooking in exchange for a room. She looked at Celeste’s cast. “Maybe you want the elevator?” she said. “Yah? Cool. You come this way.”

David and I carried our bags up the three flights, “accidentally” bumping into each other a number of times. We found Viv, Abby, and Cameron sitting in the Parker-Whites’ less-formal living room, watching one of the Spider-Man movies.

“Hey.” Viv unwound her limbs from Cameron’s and came over to give me a hug. “Long drive, huh?”

“Sorry,” David said. “My fault. I suggested an alternate route that turned out to suck.”

That wasn’t really why we were late, of course—it had been my fault for oversleeping. He was taking the bullet for me, probably because it had been so obvious in the car that I was worried they were going to be mad. I had a sudden urge to hug him. As if sensing this, he placed a hand on the small of my back.

“I wish you guys hadn’t waited for us,” I said.

“Viv’s idea,” Abby said, not looking away from the TV, even though a commercial was on.

Celeste appeared in the doorway. David took his hand off me to move a bag that was in her way.

“I hope you guys are hungry,” Viv said. “We stocked up at the farmers’ market this morning. I got those dilly beans you love, Leen, and good bread and cheese. A ton of stuff.”

“Actually,” I said, feeling a spike of guilt, “we kind of ate in the car.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. I could hear her disappointment. “Well, it’s a gorgeous day. What does everyone want to do? Abby, Cam, turn off the TV, losers.”

It turned out that none of us had really thought about what we wanted to do in New York, except Abby, and everything she suggested involved tons of walking. I kept having to point out that Celeste was on crutches.

“Okay,” she finally said to me, “how about we sit on our asses and do nothing? Does that work for you?”

“No, I—”

“How about we split up?” David said. “You guys go do what you want. Celeste and I will be more mellow.”

People exchanged looks. “Sounds good,” Abby said.

So now I had to pick whether to spend the day with David or with my friends? This wasn’t part of the plan.

“You’re coming with us, Leena, right?” Abby said.

“Umm . . . I . . .”

Viv cut in. “Wait a minute. I’ve got an idea.”

Viv conferred with Miss Sweden for a minute, then the two of them wrangled some sort of metal contraption out of the hall closet. It turned out to be a collapsible wheelchair that belonged to Viv’s grandfather.

Celeste stared at it. “You want me to ride around in that? In Manhattan?”

“It might be kind of annoying,” Abby said. “The sidewalks are so crowded.”

“Try it,” Viv said.

Celeste sat down and wheeled herself slowly forward. “It’s hard to maneuver.”

“We’ll push you,” I said. “We’ll take turns.”