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“But a Book is only the Heart’s Portrait—every Page a Pulse.” —Emily Dickinson
because I’ve also been putting him first for as long as I can remember. Putting everyone first, in fact. I’ve spent my entire life being encumbered by the tasks and responsibilities other people don’t want. I make sacrifices without question because that’s what I’ve always done, and at this point, it’s hard to know if it’s a true desire to help or just habit.
I’m tired of being a passenger in my own life. So if Will is going to spend junior year doing things for himself, so am I.
Be more organized. Come to me sooner. I don’t know how to explain to someone who doesn’t live inside my head that they could have physically carried me to the office or glued a laptop down in front of me and I’d have still found a way to avoid the task.
Junior year is for sure going to kick my ass, but I’m the eldest daughter and nobody taught me how to say no.
making friends is not easy for every person? Especially as an adult when it’s difficult as hell?
Having a group of women to get ready with—ones who seem to want me there in the first place—is what I’ve always wanted. Maybe I watched too much TV growing up, but it always seemed like the pinnacle of girlhood, and I’ve always felt like I’ve missed out.
“I never talk about you, Kris.” Henry shrugs in the nonchalant way he does. “It’s only important that she remembers my name.”
“Why don’t I have your number?” “I don’t know why you don’t have my number. Why don’t I have your number?” “Because you haven’t asked for it. Why haven’t you asked for it?” There’s something extra cheerful about him today, playful really. I cross my arms as he smirks up at me from his seat. “Why haven’t you gone out of your way to give it to me?” “Excellent question.” His finger hooks through the loop of my jeans, pulling me a few steps closer so I’m standing between his legs. He’s not even touching me and I feel flustered.
“Do you always worry about what other people think about things that have nothing to do with them?”
“New number one: we have to be honest with each other about how busy we are, and you have to stop belittling things that are important to you by calling them silly.”
If I think about it too hard, I’ll be upset that the first time I’ve heard from Will in weeks is because I’m going out with someone else. He hasn’t once checked in to see how I’m handling things, and even now, his attitude is weird. I shouldn’t engage… but I do.
this is so weird to me. like if he’s your shitty ex bf, why do you even want him checking up to see how you’re doing?? I guess it would be common courtesy but I wouldn’t need some guy idgaf about anymore to continue checking up on me or even contacting me. like LOSE MY NUMBER douchebag!!
“I think I always had myself down as a hopeless romantic. The things I read, the music I listen to, the movies I watch, etcetera. I guess who we think we are and who we are can be different.”
“Important question. Whose name was on your jersey?” “It doesn’t have a name. It wasn’t actually mine, I borrowed it from Ava.” The car pulls up to the curb and I hold the door open for her to climb in. “Yeah, we’re fixing that on Monday.”
“I’d rather you kill me than try to have this conversation with me.”
“Thinking.” Trying to drown out the music by dissociating. “Not brooding.”
If she’s so great that you want to be around her all the time, someone else is going to think she’s so great and want to be around her all the time.”
it’s more valuable to be the person who helps someone achieve their goals than to be the person who achieves it for them.
My eyes meet hers. “If he wanted to, he would.” “That’s what the word on the street is.”
“You’re being very quiet,” she whispers. “It’s my brand.” “What’re you daydreaming about?” You. Always you.
Desperately craving connection only to be left alone or unappreciated by people who don’t get her.
Who did I piss off to end up with two interfering women in my life? “You know rats can’t speak, right?” “Squeak squeak, bestie. Someone’s going to beat you to it.”
“I’d tell you how fucking beautiful you are. That when you laugh I want to listen to it forever. I’d tell you that when I daydream, I think of us. And all the things I want us to do. And all the things I want to do to you.”
“Liar. You had that I had an amazing orgasm walk when you came in here.
“That, but also, Will sounds like he was a dick, so I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him, either.”
There’s a responsibility that comes with being the child that’s an extension of the parenting unit: never be the one to rock the boat. You’re the anchor that keeps everyone in place. There’s an unspoken requirement never to have problems you can’t resolve yourself quietly, and it’s a condition I’ve never failed to meet until now.
“You broke a rule!” I squeak, flustered by being carried like I weigh nothing. “The same one you always break!” “Tell it to the board, Captain.”
The experience of wanting the experience is a new experience for me, y’know?
I’m very aware that if I’m grown-up enough to want sex, I should be grown-up enough to talk about it, but boy do I want the ground to swallow me whole.
“It’s cute that you think the noise in my head could ever be stopped,”
“I’m nervous, Henry. I don’t know what I’m doing, and what if I’m not good?” I say quietly. “I’m used to being a problem solver, and this is the one thing I don’t know how to solve in advance.
“Yeah, but that might change. Will got tired of waiting for me to be ready an—” “And Will is a prick,” he interrupts. “But go on.”
She looks so pretty. And happy. That’s my favorite part.
JAIDEN I need advice. So you came to the expert Great choice You’re my last resort. I’m your only hope Hit me. I’m ready to wow you with my wisdom
I tell myself I’m going to work harder to be the version of me in my head, and I’m so frozen by the prospect that I do nothing at all, not even the things I would have done before, and I make everything worse.
“We win as a team, we lose as a team. No one person is responsible for how we play. It’s quite literally a group effort.”
Henry takes my hand and pulls me gently to move me out the way of someone texting and walking. His fingers thread through mine and he doesn’t let go.
I HAD EXPECTATIONS OF WHAT my adult life might look like. It was going to be sophisticated and full of adventure. I’d meet interesting people and do interesting things, and I’d be hot and happy.
“How poetic of you. I’ll put it in my bio. Halle Jacobs: Aspiring author. Professional people pleaser. Calm like a well-fed panda.”
It’s simple: I let the impending dread build and build until I start to convince myself that if I don’t start doing something there’s no way I’ll pass, and then I start studying.