Best Quotes from If He Had Been With Me by Laura Nowlin with Page Numbers

What they do not know is that there is another story. The story lurking underneath and in between the facts of the one they can see.

If he had been with me, everything would have been different.

He is distracted. He is not thinking of the rain or the car or the wet road beneath it. He is thinking of this argument.

When the impact occurs, she sails through the windshield and out into the night.

I cannot hear her, but I see Sylvie tell them the cause of the argument, and I know, I know, I know.

His mind is blank. He feels nothing, he thinks nothing; he exists, perfect and unscathed.

Stay. I whisper to him. Stay in the car. Stay in this moment.

All I can see is the moment afterward, the moment of her weightless suspension in the air.

Though true, it is hard to imagine, so hard that even I cannot achieve the image.

He glided through the rain... regrettably together, and they argue.

My name had what his did not, associations, meaning, a history.

I did not understand then that a boy without a real father would crave an origin and a meaning.

I was quirky and odd and I did not have any friends besides Finny.

Being 'pretty' was a poor consolation in my eyes.

Finny was loyal to me; he taunted anyone who dared torment me, snubbed anyone who scorned me, and always picked me first to be on his team.

It was understood by everyone that I belonged to Finny and that we belonged together.

A week could easily go by with Finny and I only being separated to sleep in our own beds.

In my memory of childhood, it is always summer first.

Autumn is our birthdays and walking to school together and a deepening of that golden light.

All the time that became known in my mind as Before.

Somehow we weren’t friends anymore. It wasn’t a choice. Not really.

I’m looking at my silver boots and torn lace when the bus pulls up.

Underneath it all, I was a Pretty Girl, but I wasn’t a Popular Girl.

I decided to give up and be the Weird Girl again.

Even though I had no reason to think Sasha wouldn’t be there, I am relieved when I see her.

Our transformation is complete. Sort of.

Being one of the popular girls took a lot of time.

Every moment we spent in silence was like another brick in the wall going up between us.

It is my first day of high school.

We are all quiet.

It's awkward the first few days as everyone tries to figure their places out.

Slowly, yet at the same time suddenly, because it happens in only a matter of days, I pull ahead of Sasha.

I smile at his jokes and look up at him from under my eyelashes.

I hold his hand and look down at the concrete steps to try to stop from grinning and giving away my feelings.

Of course we’re together, of course. Of course.

The next day, more people show up—so and so’s friend, someone from somebody’s class who seems cool.

We have a group hanging out on The Steps to Nowhere.

Sasha holds her hand up for a high five. I cheer for him from the steps.

By the end of the second week, a group of friends emerges from The Steps to Nowhere.

Jamie is animated and funny and he smirks a lot.

I have no desire to be one of those girls with the ponytails and the pleated skirts.

I am thrilled to finally be allowed to be myself, even if it is still under certain confines.

What binds our group together is the shared statement that we are different—and therefore somehow better.

It’s almost like you were supposed to be one of them, but somehow you’re not.

I’m kissing him to make him stop thinking about it.

I know that it is accurate down to the smallest detail, because even with everything that did happen, I still know Finny.

We could have ended up together, I realize.

I really like Jamie, even if I’m not sure that I love him yet.

I love you, Autumn.

It could be in a design magazine with my mother sitting at the kitchen table with a vase of white tulips.

"That’s what they want you to say."

"Well, it’s working."

"I could wear it with a cardigan."

"It’s a doll. A school project."

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Wear it," I say, "every day."

"Hello, Your Highness."

"We laugh so hard that I have to go out with her into the hall."

"It was a good time for us, first semester."

"It was the sort of happiness that fools you into thinking that there is still so much more, maybe even enough to laugh forever."

Because I like it.

It’s just that I get asked that enough at school.

I wish I could always believe that it is the best Christmas ever, but I can’t, because I know when the best Christmas was.

Nothing mattered except that it was Christmas.

I have worn this tiara every day for the past three weeks.

Just thought I’d make the dinner a little more festive.

It really sucks that he hasn’t noticed.

At least my father’s around for Christmas.

You can feel more than one way about a person.

It is starting to snow.

We scream as if this display of joy will frighten all our fears away, as if we already know nothing bad will happen to us this year, and are happy for it.

It is a good kiss, just like all our other kisses.

We are having more fun than they are. We love each other more. We are louder.

We are so over banging pots in the street; we have way cooler things to do inside.

Did I kiss you? Have we kissed yet? Oh my god, I kissed Alex twice.

We hold hands and lay our heads on their shoulders, sighing how sleepy we are.

We unroll our sleeping bags and huddle together on the living room floor.

Sasha begs for mercy, pleading her youth, her inexperience, her naiveté.

We listen to her case, and after she has been sufficiently melodramatic, Jamie pronounces her forgiven.

We all disagree, each choosing the one we feel is our counterpart.

I wish I were like the trees. I wish I could feign death, or at least sleep through the winter.

Eating disorders are not something to joke about. I’ve seen what they can do to a person.

I thought that when you were in love, it would always be right there, staring you in the face, reminding you every moment that you love this person.

Sometimes I know that I love Jamie, but I don’t feel it, and I wonder what it would be like to be with someone else.

I love him the most when we fight and I am scared that he will leave me.

Class, I was young once too. I know about the pressures to have sex.

But please, please be careful.

Imagine having that forever.

He gives me another tiara too. This one is gold and has more curlicues.

To everyone’s surprise, spring comes early that year.

"What do you want to watch?"

"Where’s your mom?"

"I’m going to read."

"He hated the idea of anyone—anything—ever being sad or hurt."

"Your mother loves you very, very much."

"Isn’t it always?"

"Autumn is sad," he said. It wasn’t until he said it that I realized it was true.

"It’s our houses," he said. "And our family."

"She’ll be fine. We just all need to be really understanding tonight, okay?"

"He will always love me and take care of me, no matter what."

"Because I love him, and it just feels right."

"The Spring Fling is cool because nobody goes."

"I love you," I say, and I’m not saying it to remind myself that I do; at this moment I can feel it."

"Relationships are hard work. No one is perfect. There’s no such thing as happily ever after."

"Afterward you don’t feel any different, except you love him so much more than before."

"It just feels right with him."

"It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? I mean that Brooke won’t be a virgin tomorrow. It doesn’t seem real."

"Love you too," he says.

"We have the floor to ourselves and we dance together."

"It doesn’t matter how we dance because there is hardly anyone to see us."

Sometimes, when you're envisioning the future, it’s hard to believe you could ever want it to be anything other than what you’ve known.

Whenever I wonder what it would be like if Finny and I were together, I never imagine that there is anyone else with us.

In my imagination, Finny isn’t in my group, and I’m not in his; it’s just the two of us, like it used to be.

I imagine adoring him without question. I am certain that I would if I were in love with him.

It’s hard for me to imagine Finny drunk, or liking a girl who makes out with another girl for entertainment.

I wonder what Aunt Angelina would do if she knew about Finny’s friends.

She’s too busy being perfect to be shooting up heroin on the side.

I imagine him feeling free and confident as he drinks with his friends, feeling included with them, a part of something.

I imagine Finny and I sneaking out of our houses to fool around down at the creek.

Even though we were friends as children, we wouldn’t have stayed children just because we were together.

The last day of school feels as if it is truly the last, as if I am being set free not for three months but thirty years.

I love you, Jamie’s note says. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. All I want from life is to marry you and have our family.

It is summer and we are free.

Brooke, honey, do you want to talk to him?

I hate keeping secrets from him.

We should go outside.

This is stupid. She’s my cousin.

It isn’t our place.

I can’t believe how much he loves me.

Nothing like that would ever happen to us.

I fall in love with a brown baby goat, and it falls in love with me.

I’ve matured enough in the past few months to remind myself that I don’t really know her; maybe she’s very nice.

I’ll miss you.

When I glance back at them, they are all walking away together.

I want a goat, Mom.

I can either continue to sit with them in silence, or I can try to be friendly.

Time always goes slower whenever you’re waiting for something.

The anticipation never escapes our perception.

I ache as if I had not seen him for weeks.

I love Jamie.

I’m feeling satisfied, which does not always happen when he and I are together.

I think about our future together, how perfect it will be.

If I am a part of his life, then I will be perfect too.

I want it to be special.

It has to be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

If it’s you and me, then that’s all that really matters, right?

Nothing in life is ever really perfect.

I’m just waiting for it to feel right.

I will never, ever, never leave you.

I love you too.

It should be boring but it isn’t; it’s comforting.

You can use your good judgment to help a Shy Wallflower break out or keep a Wild Child reined in.

Though you may sometimes make mistakes, your common sense—and your sense of fun—will always see you through.

I can’t wait. To me, it will legitimize us as a couple in a new way.

It’s been forever since we’ve gotten to be alone.

I don’t know what the right answer is, just what the truth is.

Girl, are you blind? This guy is jonesing for you bad.

You were thirteen in seventh grade, and you guys were still friends until Christmas.

But you still had answers.

I mean, it matters anyway.

I'm ready to be a sophomore.

Knowing that Finny was there in the room with me made every test less scary, every taunt less painful.

The thought of enduring every day without him took away my sense of self, of balance, of hope.

I lay awake at night wondering how I could survive without him.

I wanted to stay at Vogt Elementary with Finny.

It all finally ended when Aunt Angelina told my parents that Finny was just as distraught and begging to be transferred too.

I’m feeling generous today.

We’re going to have so much fun in chemistry together.

I have a plan.

It's all a jumble of voices now and when I tune out Katie and Todd’s conversation, Sylvie’s voice fades to the background as well.

I do not love him the way I love Jamie. It’s not the way I love Sasha or my mother or Mr. Laughegan. It’s the way I love Finny.

I love him in a way I cannot define, as if my love were an organ within my body that I could not live without yet could not pick out of an anatomy book.

He’ll get you one every year for the rest of our lives, and when special things happen, like our wedding and our kids.

He never fears that we aren’t meant to be together. He never doubts us; he never doubts anything.

I’m still amazed. I’ve never cried from happiness before.

I just love him...because he said I could stare out the window when it’s raining as long as I’m still listening.

They’re slow but steady.

I promise myself that no matter what it is, he will believe that I love it.

I want to impress him.

I think to myself, this is it, I really do love him.

"This is not cool."

"We are livid for the rest of lunch."

"I actually run on Thursday..."

"We high five."

"They cannot possibly have the gall to keep this up on Monday."

"It is hostility; we are halfway through the semester, every other group has claimed their table..."

"This is about more than a table."

"I tossed my bag on the table next to his and tilted my head up to look at him."

"His blue eyes have flecks of gold in them; it’s hard not to stare at the strange combination."

"I am thinking he is beautiful."

This is the saddest part of any day, when too much time has passed to create happiness while it is still light out.

Things aren’t always the way they’re supposed to be.

I can’t find my keys.

I wish I could see how long I could stand it out here.

Do you want to talk about it?

But I really am sorry. I really am.

I’ll still want to.

If Mom’s mad in the morning, can I use you as an excuse?

I remember how, whenever I was sad, I would signal him with my flashlight.

It’s a long time before the light goes out.

Nothing would keep us apart except my curfew.

It’s uncomfortable with my head pressing into the door and my knees bent, but I pretend that it isn’t because I like the idea of making out in his car.

I feel safe with him.

There is never a place I want to be that Jamie isn’t going too.

Every night, people ride around in cars without dying.

I am afraid of losing my virginity in Jamie’s car.

It’s part of my daydream—slowly undressing each other and seeing for the first time all of the secret parts of us we have hidden.

And it makes me less afraid.

I trust that if he asks me to do it, then it must mean I can do it.

I know that someday I will die, and I know that someday I will lose my virginity; these two things seem equally probable, equally impossible.

"Baby, I think you should go home."

"Sleep sounds good to me."

"There are still twenty minutes left in class. I need to go back before Mr. Laughegan sends someone to check on me."

"I have another test next hour. I’ll be fine."

"Love you, sick girl, even when your breath smells like vomit."

"You’re not, right?"

"I mean, they did say it was a possibility—"

"Could you just make sure—"

"Thanks."

"But there is a difference between knowing something and feeling it."

I’ve never felt better until Christmas morning five days later.

We would whisper together and stare at the tree until the lights became blurry.

It hasn’t been like that for years, of course.

My mother has accepted but never encouraged the tiaras.

Perhaps it has.

I want to ask Sylvie what she could possibly be thinking.

Whatever her reply would be, it wouldn’t matter.

My throat tightens.

I hope he’s okay.

For someone as quiet and stoic as Phineas Smith, that says a lot.

He said I didn’t do anything wrong, but it just wasn’t working.

It was like I couldn’t breathe, like something had been ripped from my abdomen.

I check my face. I never want to feel like that again.

In the real world, it can’t get better than that.

Love the way it’s described in books and poems isn’t real.

It’s immature to long for that, and it’s silly to think that with the right person it would be that.

My second reaction is a feeling of fear; I love Jamie and the idea that love could be so impermanent scares me.

Because everyone always says that you never get over your first love.

Even if she fell in love again, I think part of her would always be wishing she was still with him.

Never leave me.

I put on the snowflake tiara for school; it’s my new favorite, and I wear it every day that there is snow on the ground.

Sometimes I wish he would be more creative, but it is ridiculous to complain about roses.

I collected for him an assortment of little things I thought he would like.

I could just open the back door and call his name, but I go to the front door and knock; something about this transaction inclines me to formality.

His eyes are cautious as he takes it from me.

It wasn’t just attraction but some combination of lust and affection that had me longing.

I could even see it: my head on his shoulder, looking up at him as my fingers reached up to caress his hair.

I want to pull Finny out of my mind like a splinter so that I can adore Jamie the way he deserves to be adored.

I should be perfectly content, or even better than content. But I’m not.

You are the best girlfriend,

"You have to let us see."

"It’s not that bad."

"Crying is embarrassing."

"You’ll find a way to make it."

"You really love him like that?"

"Teaching is too normal for you, Autumn."

"That doesn’t sound like you at all."

"I have to accept reality."

"Everything is fine. I’m fine."

"What happened to the turtlenecks and coffee?"

...as they were twirling and twisting through the air, Jamie’s head snapped back just as Autumn was beginning to descend, and they collided with a sound almost like rocks crashing together.

Your eye looks a lot better.

Look, I’m trying to be friendly.

We can be friendly.

Trying to be friendly, she said.

He doesn’t like his girlfriend laughing at me or spreading rumors about me.

She looks happy, and I can’t deny that he does too.

It's between classes; we are the only two in here.

I’m too confused to manage much more.

I’m surprised when my heart leaps.

"You’ll be in," he says quickly. I take it as a promise.

It hadn’t seemed like a dream to move far away and write books; it had seemed like a plan.

When I was a student here, anything in the world seemed possible.

If it was just about me, I could wait tables in the day and write all night and be happy.

I realize now why she wanted me and not my mother.

Every time I was in here I imagined it.

I loved it here, so much that I didn’t even realize I loved it.

By all means, I should have felt like an outcast here, a pariah, and Finny should have been the popular boy he is now.

When I let myself remember how we used to be, it is hard to believe things could change so quickly.

I want it to be true. I don’t want to be so different from her.

So what’s the meaning of life? To be happy.

I think we’re supposed to experience as much beauty as we can.

Sometimes sad things are beautiful.

You’re my weird, morbid pretty girl.

Would you kill yourself if I died? No, I guess not.

I’d want you to be happy.

And I think it’s beautiful that they loved each other so much that they couldn’t live without the other one.

There is real life and then there are books.

But you do love me, the way people love each other in real life.

I guess I love you in the way people love in real life too.

This book is a treasure; I did not suspect it would be so good when I picked it up, but now I can feel the printed words seeping through my skin and into my veins, rushing to my heart and marking it forever.

The first time is always the best, and I will never read this book for the first time ever again.

I will sit here and love this book and know that I still have so much more left to read because that won’t be true for very long.

Try to marry your first love. For the rest of your life, no one will ever treat you as well.

Suddenly it is very quiet outside, and the glitter is gone from the grass and leaves.

I think soon it will be too dark to read.

I’ll wait until I remember that Aunt Angelina is happy with her life and that I will marry my first love.

It will only be the first time once.

The air feels good in my lungs and my muscles are relaxed and warm in the slowly fading sunshine.

Today is the longest day of the year, and the sun is only just reaching the horizon behind the trees.

It takes up more of the long, hot day if we walk, makes it more like an adventure than just something to do.

When we talk, we talk for a long time, a whole day even.

But I’m not in love anymore and I need you to support me.

I’m not throwing him away, but I’m not in love anymore.

I’m just surprised. And sad.

We’re both dewy and hot to the touch.

We will sigh in the air conditioning and run our fingers through our hair.

We can talk about nearly anything.

Nothing is romantic anymore. It’s more like we’re old friends.

But that’s what long-term relationships are like.

I defend her right to end the relationship.

We can’t have Angie with someone who doesn’t deserve her.

This is going to be hilarious.

I’m determined to like him for Angie’s sake.

It’s just the way things are now.

He looks nervous as we approach and that immediately endears him to me.

I’m hopeful for him.

There is something adorable about the way Dave looks with us, one lone khaki-clad sheep in a pack of rebel wolves.

We aren’t like that at all.

Angie warns us about this first, swearing that he is actually very cool and knows all sorts of good music.

This year and then one more.

It feels strange and wonderful to be responsible for arriving at school.

...we would not be missed until the end of the day, and by then we would be far, far away.

I imagine us living in a Victorian house in Ferguson.

Looking at the future, I feel that I am looking into a snow globe.

In this class, we are closer together than when we eat dinner with The Mothers.

It is an unspoken agreement not to speak here.

The strain of having to speak like that with him, along with all the other unsaid things, would be too much for me.

He doesn’t know what kind of doctor he wants to be.

Knowing what you want can be far worse.

Just because something seems impossible doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t try.

What I want is to be a published author, to have a few readers, to be able to hope that somewhere out there, someone loved my book.

Isn’t this what all the children’s books and movies are always about? How even if the task seems impossible, you’re still supposed to try?

I can’t risk looking back on my life and knowing that I did not try to get published as hard as I could have tried.

I know that it is real, and in this moment, there is nothing else in me but this knowledge.

I’ve loved him my whole life, and somewhere along the way, that love didn’t change but grew.

It grew to fill the parts of me that I did not have when I was a child.

There was not a piece of me that did not love him.

Sometimes it’s nice to watch him and not have to worry about it looking like I’m staring at him.

The crease has cut the girl’s face in half.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

I love you, Finny, I think.

It does not matter that one of us now knows; it doesn’t change anything.

I have to look away now. It hurts for him to smile at me like that.

My father’s decided he wants us to be a regular family.

I should clean up. I’m supposed to be ready to go when Mom and Dad get home.

Sorry,

I could have possibly not noticed it before.

Nothing has changed.

That’s what I get for putting off bagging until tomorrow.

I do not think Cathy is a monster.

I love Jamie just as much as I always have.

My love for Finny is buried like a stillborn child; it is just as cherished and just as real.

It will stay there for the rest of my life, and when I die, it will die with me.

This is my life, I realize.

And I haven’t made any tragic mistakes yet.

I’ve made a choice, yes, but no one suffers for it but me, and in the end, all will be well.

I cannot lose him.

Thank you, I’ll treasure it forever.

His handsome face surprises me as if I am seeing it for the first time.

Normally our group haphazardly trades Christmas presents the last week of school, but Angie convinced us to do something special this year.

Jamie gives me a shoe rack he has converted into a 'tiara stand'... My friends follow my suggestion to each wear the tiara they gave me so that I can better judge which is my new favorite.

I needed this; for the past few weeks, I’ve had this melancholy following me around.

I bought Sasha a rose bush, because she told me she always wanted one when she was a little girl.

Sasha names it Judith and asks the waiter to bring another chair for it to sit in.

Sasha and Alex are real friends now, not just pretending to make things less awkward for us.

We are laughing, and I look around and I cannot believe that only a few years ago, I did not know a single one of them.

I propose a toast,

Winter hits me hard this year.

There is no sky this winter and not a single leaf clinging to a single twig.

I lay awake in the dark and watch my window go from black to gray.

I cannot stop myself from sliding under the covers and hiding in obliviousness.

He is the better one of the two of us; he always was.

I cannot bear our small talk as he passes the remote to me.

I do not think I am pretty.

I realize now that it’s all fake.

I used to say to myself that I just have to get through winter, that I just have to wait.

And I know that winter is supposed to end, but things are not always the way they are supposed to be.

"I just have to get through winter."

"You think it is okay for you to be sad every day. But it is not okay. And you do not deserve it."

"It is not shameful," he says. "It is okay."

"Have you had any suicidal thoughts? Do you wish to die?"

"I don’t think I’m depressed."

"You think you deserve to be sad."

"I shake her hands from my hair and sit up. "I'm fine."

"I’ll be picking you up early on Thursday."

"She thinks I am sleeping."

"I do not belong here."

"He’s in," I say.

"I wish you would get back with Alex," I say.

"You sound surprised."

"Why don’t you come over after I’m done dying Sasha’s hair and we can plot?"

"You’re going to love your hair."

"We have created among ourselves something that is more powerful than any of us could hold separately."

"If in the future we separate, it will look so simple on the outside, a falling away, a slipping of ties."

"We sit so close together that we constantly brush against each other."

"We touch each other with the casualness that love allows."

"how dangerous friendship is, how damaging love can be."

I’m first in your phone? Well, yeah. Alphabetical order. You know.

I’m gonna let you get back to sleep, okay? Sorry about before.

When was the last time his voice was in this room with me, in the dark?

The love I’ve tried to hold back breaks its dam and flows over me.

I can still hear him breathing.

Our despair when The Mothers said we were too old to sleep in the same bed.

Can you hear me?

I wait for him to hang up first.

The ache in my chest pounds and hums with my heart.

Finny. My Finny.

"I love you," I say.

"How much?" he says.

"So much," I say.

"Do you want to go inside?"

"Then take off your swim suit."

"Can’t you just kiss me?"

"I want to make love to you," Jamie says.

"We can’t just have sex," I say.

"Because," I say, but I cannot find the words to explain what is so obvious to me.

"Perhaps in a year, I will have found out what it is I really need."

Even Aunt Angelina will frown and say that if my mother is learning to cut a few corners, it’ll be good for her, that perhaps she is learning to relax a little.

They’ve loved each other nearly their whole lives, yet are not in love. They are passionate and devoted.

I cannot imagine not wanting to live.

I cannot imagine not believing that it will be better someday.

As long as I want to live, then I must be fine.

Everything is going to be fine.

I know that. Everything is fine already.

Love is complex.

What other people mean when they say okay.

I lay my head on my knees and I do not cry.

"To us," I say, remembering Jamie’s Christmas toast. And I mean it.

"No pain, no gain, darling," Alex says.

"I feel a swell of pride in my chest; I surprised Finny. And I’ve been drunk now, just like him."

"Now I know why you do this," I whisper.

"When we go to visit Mom tomorrow night, will you come too?"

"Don’t have sex with Jamie while you’re drunk," Finny says.

"I wasn’t going to," I say.

"You’re always so bossy," I say.

"I promise," I say.

"Tonight I will sleep all night with Jamie in my bed but we will not have sex."

Books are unlimited.

Perhaps there is something here, something that I can hold on to, that can take me away for a little while.

I am in love with both my lost best friend and my boyfriend and I need to believe in another life.

It’s okay,

"There are lots of trees."

"I never would have left him."

"It’s funny how things don’t turn out the way you thought they would."

"Will you wear black turtlenecks and drink coffee for me?"

"You know what? Me neither."

"We look as if we sit there every day, together."

"I think maybe I’ll go to New York for med school though."

"I remember being afraid that he would leave me someday."

"We’re heading home now."

"On the way home, I look out the window and watch the trees fly by like road markers telling us how far we have come from where we were."

On August 8th, nothing happens.

No one says anything prophetic or ironic.

Did that last year feel to him like late afternoon, the sunlight creeping across the floorboards of his room, slowly fading until there is but a thin veil of gray between day and night?

Like all things that have become history, I now feel as if I always knew it.

as if all through this story, it had been lurking in the shadows.

The story underneath the story.

Did Finny feel something? Was there something nameless that shifted within him?

Did I feel something? Did I know?

I do not awake in darkness to hear the clock strike thirteen.

Lightning does not strike the Earth.

We’re almost there, that finish line that has stood before us all our lives.

We are almost adults, our lives are about to begin.

I wish her well.

He turns to me again. I’m not allowed to wear a tiara in gym, and I feel strangely exposed to him.

I’m not sure why Finny signed up for it. He’s good at all sports; I can’t imagine why he would want a class with so little activity.

I think about standing at the bus stop with him that first day of freshman year, too awkward to even say hello back to him.

It won’t look like it means anything.

Everyone looks around and whispers, pairing off as quickly as possible so as not to be left behind.

So we’re seniors.

Sure.

Angie doesn’t look upset though; she looks beautiful.

She loves him so much that every time I think of him holding me afterward, I just want to die.

If being in the backseat of a car and vomiting in the driveway didn’t already ruin it, I’m not sure what we could do that would.

I guess I’m happy for her if she’s happy.

I think it’d be cute if you threw up.

I’d hold your hair back for you and take care of you.

We’ll get a hotel room.

And we’ll dress up and have an expensive meal first.

It’s romantic, and I wish I hadn’t already thought of it so that it could be a surprise.

She can’t stop smiling.

I’m hitting it to you slowly. It can’t hurt you.

That was better. This time, try to hit it upward.

So do you want to serve?

I’ll tell her to get you an ant farm.

What are you doing for your birthday?

Sounds like fun.

I just thought I would ask anyway.

But on our actual birthdays, we’ll have dinner with The Mothers.

Yeah, I know.

We’re good.

The rose bush you gave me for Christmas is still blooming.

All the other students are so young and awkward; how could we not be?

I couldn’t imagine Halloween without a costume.

I’m not wearing a costume.

But my parents are going to some marriage camp therapy retreat thing.

I took a test yesterday.

I’m tired and my boobs hurt.

Dave seemed pretty freaked out, but he also seemed excited.

It’s almost like he’s kinda proud of himself.

And it sounds strangely happy.

"You know you were supposed to hit that back to me right?"

"If you were there, your mom would assume it couldn’t be all that bad, you know?"

"Having Finny over will."

"But I didn’t think it would be hard to convince a big partier like you."

"Sylvie needs someone to look after her."

"And suddenly it’s unbelievable again that I could invite Finny—and Sylvie!—to the Halloween party with all my friends."

"They held hands."

"You know, my mom isn’t as clueless as your mom."

"Okay, he says, ‘we’ll come.’"

"It’s fine.”

You can’t disobey Mr. Laughegan.

It had been like rushing down a swift river.

But now I was breathing again, and I thought we could find a way to stay friends.

I missed you.

There was only our family together and the tree and our presents.

He didn’t seem the same anymore.

It was strange and wonderful.

It felt like I was watching a meteor shower and did not know if it meant the stars were falling and the sky was breaking apart.

What was I supposed to do? I wasn’t ready.

Is there a story there?

"You don’t need to worry about me, Phineas."

"I really want—" I say. "Want what?" he says.

"Let’s go," he says.

"Whisper, whisper, whisper," I say.

"That’s very nice of you, Autumn," Sylvie says.

"Would you like a custom hand-shaken martini?" Noah says.

"Say no," I advise.

"That was a very entertaining story."

"You’re going to reek of alcohol, baby," Sylvie says.

"Okay," he says, and turns on his heels.

We might as well count it since you’re going to win anyway.

You don’t know that.

Yeah, I do.

What were you saying about Thanksgiving?

My father wants me to come over to his place and meet his wife and daughter.

How old is she?

You look relieved.

Would you want to be alone with them all day?

Like this.

That wasn’t your fault.

Someday I’ll be happy like that.

I squeeze Jamie’s hand.

Her smile sends a knifepoint into my stomach.

I raise my camera and take another shot.

I’m not sure if they’re happy tears or not.

We’re next.

Jamie leans over and looks at the screen.

His mother is crying.

I let go of his hand and raise my camera again.

I delete it before Jamie sees.

We should hang out sometime when we don’t have to.

I dunno. We should hang out sometime when we don’t have to. Go see a movie or something.

I look up at his face, his flushed cheeks and nervous blue eyes, and I want to say 'Sure.' I want it too much.

It’s possible to love two people at once, but could it be possible to stay loyal to one?

But I thought Jamie and Sasha hung out all the time?

My fingers tremble in my hair.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t.

He squeezes gently and kind of smiles.

Come on and sit down, kids.

Finny and I watch TV until midnight. We don’t say anything else to each other.

God, pretty girl, I’m sorry.

Hardly anything is going to change.

They told me last night, over dinner.

It’s fine.

Just come over and hold me.

Will you ever leave me?

Nope.

Promise?

I love you too, Jamie.

I lay my phone on the desk and watch the rain outside my window.

"Maybe you should get one of those sun lamps to sit under."

"This isn’t just about the weather, Jamie. My parents are getting divorced."

"I love you too."

"Angie seems oblivious to both, and every time her hand is on her stomach, she is smiling."

"We’re eating dinner with Aunt Angelina and Finny nearly every night now."

"None of us, except Sasha and Jamie, are going to the same school."

"Sometimes when we’re all together, we talk about how high school is almost over. And how we will always be friends."

"I hate being in the house by myself, so sometimes I bring my homework over and work at their kitchen table."

"I heard at school that she isn’t going to college in the fall. She’s going to go to Europe for the summer, then take a year off to find herself or something like that."

"A few green shoots begin to appear in the beginning of April. It’s still cold out, but things are getting a little better. But only a little."

"It doesn’t seem real, I guess."

"Well, you’ve got two months and one week until it will be all the way real."

"He’s going to run for Prom King?"

"That’s not his fault," I say. "He’s likable."

"I’m going to look so cool," she says.

"Not if it’s like a sassy pink," I say. "But if it’s a sweet, girly pink, yes."

"We consider oranges and reds because the whole world is open to us now."

I see the girl I could have been if I’d tried out for cheerleading.

Every dress is another girl who is not me.

I smile and then I laugh.

I like your dress.

Of course you do.

There’s magic in the air. I can feel it.

Tiaras are for every day. This is a special night.

I love you.

I will never hurt you.

It was one of our best moments.

I haven’t told her otherwise.

We slow dance and change partners.

She looks like a Renaissance painting of the Madonna.

It’s a gorgeous day; the sky is clear and the wind is blowing in the trees.

I was thinking we should talk about it.

I could get on it.

You don’t need to do that.

Let’s just not talk about it right now.

I’m proud that unlike other boys, he isn’t so focused on sex that he can’t think of other things.

I love you.

Me too.

He drives in silence.

He stares straight ahead.

Someday this will be the only thing I remember about my graduation.

All I feel is that I lived through a few years of my life; getting through high school was just what I did on the side.

I remember I’m supposed to smile.

I see spots for a moment, and then I am walking back to my seat, but it feels more like wandering.

The lobby is too crowded to move around and find them.

I still don’t understand.

I have to go eat with my family.

We need to talk.

Congratulations for surviving maybe?

Nah, I guess not.

People in relationships need each other like I need you.

Sometimes that happens to me, and I just wait and it always comes back.

I can’t do it anymore.

You still love me. You just can’t feel it right now.

How easy and obvious it seems now. How silly and trite, how terrible and real.

I always thought you loved me more than I loved you.

There isn’t anything else to say. You guys are assholes and that’s it.

You should go now. I’m ready to go to my room and be done with this.

I’m not going to call her. You can go ahead and tell her that.

I will never, ever be your friend again.

Numb doesn’t hurt.

You’re better off without them. You know that, right?

I should be glad it’s over. I should be relieved.

I thought if I broke up with him, no one else would ever love me like that.

You deserve to feel happy and loved.

He didn’t sleep with you and then— No, he isn’t that bad.

The longer we’re gone, the better they’ll feel.

I hold my hand out the window and feel the air rushing through my fingers.

It’s okay to feel all the things, even when it hurts.

You will find love again; don’t doubt that.

"I’m scared that I’m going to call him."

"Just to yell at him."

"You don’t need him."

"I was just going to play a video game. You can read or whatever."

"I’ll be here for you."

"It’s just breakfast."

"I miss you too."

"I bet she understands."

"You shouldn’t expect them to either. It may not happen."

"I don’t want to be alone."

Watching Finny keeps me from thinking about Jamie.

If I’m wondering what he’s saying to Sylvie, then I’m not wondering what Jamie might be saying to Sasha.

I’m safe from hurting myself.

You should go have fun with your friends.

Not all the way better, but yeah, better.

It is good, but I take out large chunks and move paragraphs.

I’m ready to write something honest.

Soon, the only sound is the clacking of my keyboard, and then that is gone too.

We’re quiet then, but it isn’t an awkward silence.

It’s too bad we didn’t have cell phones back then; then we wouldn’t have needed the cups and string.

"Before I can fall asleep, my phone cries for me again."

"I close my book and toss it on the table."

"Well, to be fair, you do need a ride."

"You will, won’t you?"

"It’s weird being at a place like this without an adult."

"It’ll be fine."

"I like holding Guinevere, I realize. I can look at her and forget that Jamie and Sasha are sitting close together as if it were right."

"For a moment, it feels as if we three are the only ones in the room."

"Nope," I say, and I flinch."

"You okay?" he says. "Yeah," I say."

We spend most of the time driving around with the windows down.

Last night we sat on the hood of his red car and ate sugary candies with neon food coloring.

I close my laptop and stretch my arms above my head.

Because it’s private, and it isn’t very good yet.

It’s that I know you.

What if I promise not to read into it? No analysis at all.

Come on, please?

Maybe.

So what do you want to do now?

This.

I really did think we would be friends forever.

It’s nice that I can still be friends with the rest of them.

How can we still be a group after this?

You wouldn’t think she was so bad if you gave her a chance.

Mostly she’s scared of you.

You intimidate her.

I don’t hate Sylvie.

But that means I don’t know if she’d like museums.

I bet if she knew me she’d see what a dork I am.

You’re not a dork.

It amazes me that the words don’t come tumbling out of me.

I can feel them in my mouth like three smooth pebbles.

Is it possible that the last six years were real, and not a dream as they feel to me now?

I think that if I concentrated, I could make those memories vanish.

I could close my eyes and believe that we have never been apart.

I could invent a new past to remember.

He reaches up and brushes a lock of his hair out of his eyes.

The sky is slowly darkening and the fireworks will start soon.

I could make those memories vanish.

Don’t worry about me.

I'm not sure if Jack was hard to convince.

Let’s get along just to spite him.

I didn’t say you had to like each other.

It’s not even an accomplishment. It’s just the way I look.

I didn’t mean to upset you or whatever.

You’re just not supposed to know.

Why should I have to pretend that I don’t know I’m pretty when everybody’s telling me all the time?

I was there back in middle school.

I’ve known him for almost as long as his mother has.

And it’s not like that with us anyway.

I love you.”

The longing to touch that scar is more unbearable than any itch I ever felt.

It’s nice, looking at his face.

If he were awake, he would say it was okay, and he would mean it.

I close my eyes and listen to his breathing.

We don’t say anything else and we don’t move and we don’t look away.

I wish that this meant something.

I wish I could hope that he is lying still and looking at me for the same reason I am.

It’s okay. Take a breath.

I go back to the story in my head about how it could have been.

If you want me to, I can clear my schedule and go down with you and your mother when you move into the dorms.

You don’t have to make a decision right now, but the closer we get to the date the harder it will be.

If it’s what I want, that’s all I’m saying.

Honey, if you don’t want me there—

Now, honey, your mom has to come. That is not optional.

You’re saying that you want to move into the dorms without either of your parents there?

It’s not that big of a deal.

I’m fine.

They ignore me too.

The sun bleeds through and all I can see is red.

Maybe sometimes people stop spending time together and it doesn’t mean anything.

He must have seen it in my eyes.

I’ve managed to ruin everything again.

I draw my knees up to my chin.

It’s gonna be hard.

I can hear him breathing.

You want to come over and watch a movie?

And we don’t talk about Sylvie.

I stare at his window until the sun is up.

Okay, Autumn.

Memory isn’t objective.

You weren’t a freak. You were the only cool girl at school.

You were Mr. Laughegan’s favorite.

But you were the one all the guys liked.

It was weird. Hearing them talk about you like that.

They told me that after they joined the cheerleading squad you started talking about how cheerleading in high school was a stereotype and you wanted to be a part of something more meaningful.

That does sound like something you would say.

But that’s not true!

They stopped being friends with us.

I guess so, and for the first time I’m wondering what else might be different from Finny’s point of view.

“Do you ever wonder if this car is more trouble than it’s worth?”

“You have to make little adjustments as you go, otherwise you’ll end up going off to one side.”

“I’ll catch you if we start to go too far.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“You can’t go forever without learning to drive.”

“Take the wheel.”

“You’d miss me.”

“My heart is hammering and I feel as if I am falling.”

“His hands press down on mine as he forces me to turn us toward the on ramp.”

“The highway is nearly empty and the road stretches in front of us uninterrupted.”

I had somehow forgotten that the world was larger than just us.

I don’t want to say yes because I don’t want him back, but I can’t say no either because I do care about him still.

It was another moment when one of us could have said something, could have given us time, but neither of us did.

I’m glad that you’re happy.

I am. Actually, I’ve been really happy.

I don’t love Jamie, and I laugh because it sounds so funny to say.

They’ve invented a new meal, one that takes place after midnight and before dawn.

We rarely ever miss it.

She’s not who I want to be with.

The way he says it.

This is going to be fun.

Come on, I don’t trust you to bartend.

We made it big enough so that all three of us would be able to stretch out inside of it.

It was a tradition.

I want him to break up with Sylvie.

I want him to be in love with me.

Stop it, stop it, stop it.

I can’t do this to myself anymore.

I came to check on you.

You don’t understand.

Nobody else understood them the way they understood each other.

Aden isn’t afraid to wait to kiss her until he is certain she is ready to be kissed.

They don’t have any other friends, and they don’t want any others because they’re still best friends too.

It is wonderful and scary.

Sometimes people tell them they should make other friends or date other people, but Izzy and Aden never listen.

They think that they will be able to forever remember each other as they are now.

They decide they don’t want to ruin their perfect love by trying to stretch it across the distance.

They finally admit that they would rather ruin their perfect love trying to make it work.

Being unhappy together is better than being unhappy apart.

And then Izzy and Aden are finally able to let each other go.

"You make me happier than any other person ever has."

"That would make me happy."

"It feels so right."

"I love you," Finny says in my ear.

"I forgot to tell you."

"Will you hold me?"

"I had no idea you wanted anything like that."

"If you didn’t know, then why did you leave me?"

"You said—you said that you loved me too."

"It’s you and me now, right?"

Yeah, but I also feel like I’ve been loyal to something bigger.

I wanted something better for you.

You’re funny and smart and weird. I never know what’s gonna come out of your mouth or what you’re gonna do. I love that.

Last night was the best thing that ever happened to me and I would never think it was a mistake unless you said it was.

Then everything is going to be okay. We're together now.

You’re so beautiful.

It’s different when you say it.

Doesn’t it feel like it?

I never, ever thought this would happen.

How did we ever get here?

It’s going to be okay.

I want it to be just us.

I promise you, I’ll come back as soon as I can.

You know that, Autumn.

Here is what we’ll do... When I get back I’ll sneak in your back door and come to your room.

And then I’ll hold you all night.

If I can just keep kissing him, then he’ll never leave.

I think my mother has a special bottle of champagne hidden away for just this occasion.

I’ll be back to help you fend them off.

After this, things are going to be the way they were always supposed to be.

Finny?”

Oh, Autumn,” my mother says.

If he had been with me, Finny would still be alive. If he had been with me, everything would have been different.

Stay with me.

But of course he never does.

Stay, I whisper to him. Stay in the car. Stay in this moment.

He feels the warm leather seat beneath his jeans, and the steering wheel clutched in his fingers so tight that his knuckles are white.

He only sees her, what he thinks is his destination.

To steady himself, he lays his left hand down by her head.

Death happens to him more suddenly than I can describe to you or even care to imagine.

She was the instrument of his death, but not the cause.

I see Finny sitting in the red car, perfect and untouched.

I think Finny would forgive me.

I’ve realized that I have too.

If I continue to try to survive without Finny, there are paths I could go down that he would think were much worse than this.

It took longer to write than I thought it would.

I finally had to accept that I wouldn’t be able to say all of the things I wanted.

But the temptation to be close to him one last time is too great for me to resist.

The house is quiet, empty, shadowy.

I relish the sound, remembering how we ran up the stairs together.

Please, do not try to break down the door.

It is too late for you to do anything.

In books, people always wake up in the hospital and can’t remember how they got there, and then it all slowly comes back to them.

I remember much more than I wish I did, since I am planning on doing it all over again.

For the first time in weeks, everything within me goes still and silent.

I touch the cotton wrapping with one finger.

Finny would forgive me.

No, Finny will forgive me when I get to explain to him afterward.

I dislike her voice.

I have an IV in one hand.

The hospital blanket is depressingly small and thin, more like a beach towel.

I study my bandages as the nurse takes my blood pressure.

Just because something seems impossible doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t try.

I remember him holding Angie’s baby at the hospital, the way he stared in wonder at that small face.

We could live with The Mothers at first; they would be happy to have us.

I could wait tables and save money and go to college a few courses at a time.

I could still write at night, maybe not every night, but still.

Finny wouldn’t approve of me trying again if I am pregnant.

I try to explain to him and he just raises his eyebrows at me.

He knows he has won.

It wouldn’t be like having him back. Not really. But it would be better than not having him at all.

He couldn’t stand to let worms die on the sidewalks.

I’ll wait. And I’ll be okay.

And for the first time in years, I feel like things are going to turn out the way they were always meant to be.