Side Effects May Vary

Without a word, she rolled her office chair out for me and I sat down. She placed her hands on my shoulders and squeezed some tension from my sore muscles. Gently, she took out all of my bobby pins, and my head screamed with relief. Taking down a ballet bun is sort of like a brain freeze, causing a brief but intense headache. I held out my hand for her to place the discarded bobby pins in. When my hair was completely loose around my shoulders, she massaged my scalp for a minute, and I couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped from my lips. Instead of putting my hair back into a tight bun, Natalie placed a straight part in the middle of my head and gave me two long braids on either side. When she was through braiding, she took a couple bobby pins from my open palm and wove the braids together at the base of my scalp.

That night after class, and after all the other students had gone home, I sat with Natalie on the floor of the largest studio while Harvey waited in the car. I told her I wouldn’t be back for classes in the fall. I sat up straight and enunciated my words, but inside they were a whisper.

She didn’t say much of anything until we were standing in the dark with our bags in tow, getting ready to set the studio alarm.

“You can have until Monday to change your mind. I’ll hold your place until then.” The room around us was pitch black, so like most things people hear in the dark, I pretended not to hear anything at all.

Ever since I was a kid we’d always had cake before the meal at any of my birthday gatherings. One year I’d begged my mom to have cake first. She’d caved and it had been a tradition ever since. Besides, I’d always hated the idea of saving the best for last.

After eating cake, Harvey sat right next to me with two plates of pizza—one for each of us. He wolfed down his slices and went for seconds while I still picked at my first helping. Our parents huddled around in a circle, conversing in hushed whispers while every couple minutes my dad glanced over his shoulder at me and Harvey.

After his trip for seconds, Harvey ducked beneath the low-hanging light dangling above the kitchen table, and asked, “Do you want me to pick you up for school tomorrow?”

“I think my mom wants to take me because it’s my first day back,” I lied, rubbing my hands up and down my arms trying to warm myself. I wasn’t ready to be alone with him yet.

With a slice of pizza hanging from his mouth, he shrugged out of his zip-up hoodie and draped it around my shoulders. I resisted rolling my shoulders back and letting the jacket slip to the ground. Instead, I pulled the fabric tight around myself. It smelled like Harvey. Like spilled gasoline and produce and boy deodorant.

Tonight, I was cold. Tomorrow, I would deal with Harvey.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Why would I be nervous?”

He scooted his chair a little closer to me and took my hands from where they sat in my lap. Beneath the table, he held my fingers, warming them, and said, “I won’t let them near you. Not Celeste. Not Luke.”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” I pulled my hands away and pushed my plate to the side and rested my cheek against the table, turning away from him. All that lay ahead of me tomorrow weighed on my shoulders and I could barely pick my head up. Beneath the table, he squeezed my knee. I jerked away. Harvey did too, doubling the gap between us. It hadn’t been so long ago that Harvey’s touch had been the only cure I’d wanted.

Still, he sat silently by my side all night, reaching beneath the table for my fingers every so often. I wavered between hot and cold. Between wanting to lean into him and wanting to shoo him away. Our parents stayed huddled in the kitchen, their voices growing louder and more boisterous as the wine disappeared from their glasses.

Finally, at a quarter to eleven, Harvey dug the keys out of his mom’s purse and escorted her to the car. On the porch, both my parents and Natalie wore rosy cheeks and drooping smiles as they said good night. Harvey hung back with me in the doorway.

The January cold tinged his cheeks and nose red as he rubbed his hands together. “We can sit together at lunch tomorrow. And I was thinking we could do something this weekend. Dennis is going to ask out Lacy from work—she graduated last year, so I doubt it’ll happen. But if she says yes, I thought we could go with them. I guess, like, a double date or whatever. Make it less awkward for them.”

I sucked in a breath and turned my gaze to our parents, still laughing, not quite ready to say good-bye. “It’s cold out. Take this,” I said, pulling off his jacket.

“Keep it till tomorrow.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

His jacket draped over his arm, he took a step forward and kissed the spot where my lips met my cheeks. “Happy birthday.” He paused. “I love you.”

His words sucked the air out of my lungs. My heart pounded, echoing to every crevice of my body.