Isla And The Happily Ever After Part 30

The relief I feel at being understood really and truly understood is profound. The emptiness inside of me transforms into an instant flood of emotion. "It was crazy. It was amazing. It was...the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Sanjita scoots forward, and her dangly gold earrings sway. "So what went wrong?"

"I liked him I loved him but I don't think he loved me the same way in return."

Her shoulders fall. "He broke up with you."

"No. I broke up with him."

She winces. "Oh. Ouch."

"I know."

But her frown only grows. "I don't get it. You guys were glued to each other. I saw the way he looked at you. He never looked at Rashmi like that."

My heart stops. I could never ask Nikhil, but...Sanjita.

"Wh-what were they like as couple? Your sister and Josh?"

She shrugs, and her long earrings sway again. "I don't know. They bickered constantly. I think they were more similar, more stubborn and determined, than they realized. It was why they sort of worked together, but why it never could've lasted. There was no balance."

Josh and I had balance. Didn't we?

"Not like she ever told me anything." Sanjita scowls. "But, from the outside, it seemed like they'd both be better off with partners who were softer. Like you."

I'm not sure I like that word. Softer.

She sees my expression and shakes her head. "Not, like, weak soft. I meant...someone who'd give them the s.p.a.ce they need to flourish. Who wouldn't try to change them. Who'd support them even when they were being dumba.s.ses but who'd be ready to guide them back when they needed it."

"And...you think that's me?"

"Are you kidding? You're the most patient and forgiving person I know."

A strange thing is happening. Something deep inside of me recognizes her words as true. I am patient and forgiving.

Just not with myself.

She looks away from me again, re-hiding her face, and I know she's thinking about Kurt. About how she tested me for months. About how I wanted to be friends with them both, but how she forced me to choose anyway. I can see her shame. She clears her throat, pus.h.i.+ng herself back into the present. "So why don't you think Josh loved you?"

"I felt like I was...a nice distraction. He was so unhappy here, you know?"

"Phones are distracting. The internet is distracting. The way he looked at you? He wasn't distracted. He was consumed."

I get the sense that she's being extra nice to me to make up for the past without having to say she's sorry. It feels cowardly. But it also appears as if she believes what she's saying. It's simultaneously my greatest fear and my greatest hope. Is it possible, after all of this second-guessing, that Josh really did love me as much as I loved him? Is it possible that he saw something in me that I have trouble seeing in myself?

Is it possible that I'm worthy of being loved by someone whom I love?

My heart pounds at double its usual speed. "Either way," I say. It sounds defensive. Like I'm making an excuse, which I suppose I am. "He needs to get his act together. The last time we talked, he still hadn't figured out what he was going to do about school. He's a semester away from graduation, and he's just sitting on it. And he can't go to New England without a degree. So, basically, he's not going anywhere."

Sanjita looks confused. "New England?"

I tell her about his school and everything else spills out, too. "And I thought I was getting used to the idea of la Sorbonne, but I don't know. Back when we were dating, it sounded exciting to go someplace new. I did all this research, and Dartmouth seemed really cool, you know? Different. And when I went up there a few weeks ago, it was even better than I'd imagined. But when we broke up, it became his place again-"

"I thought you said he wasn't going anywhere."

"Well, I don't know that for sure-"

"Who cares? Go to Dartmouth."

"Yeah, but what if he thinks I want to move there for him?"

"Do you?"

"No, but-"

"So go to Dartmouth."

I frown, and she stares at me like I'm dense. "I'm not sure what's so difficult about this," she says. "You got into the school that you wanted to get into. So go to it."

Holy s.h.i.+t. She's right. Is it really that simple?

Sanjita crosses her arms, smug. She knows she's won her argument.

"You used to want to be a lawyer," I say. "Do you still want that? Because you're good at arguing your case."

She grins. "What else do you need me to fix?"

"I don't know. My sister? Can you fix her?"

"Hattie, I a.s.sume?"

"She's relentless." I grind une frite into its paper sleeve. "She showed up in my room the other day unasked, of course and immediately started rifling through all of my belongings. I told her to cut it out, but that only made her push this huge stack of books off my desk."

"Maybe she's just curious about you. Maybe she didn't mean anything by it."

I shake my head. "Hattie never does anything without purpose. She was doing it to get under my skin, and it worked. Like it always does."

Sanjita arches an eyebrow. "I don't know. It sounds like you're treating her like a child so she's responding like one."

I can't contain the surprise from my expression. Or the outrage.

She holds up her hands in defence. "I have three older sisters. They might as well be three mothers. I've been making a conscious effort not to do it to Nikhil this year."

One of my hands clutches my necklace. "Like...how?"

"Have you ever invited her to your room? Or anywhere else, for that matter?"

There's a long and empty silence. Sanjita correctly interprets it. "What about Gen? Do you guys ever hang out, just the two of you?"

"She lives on the other side of the Atlantic." It comes out p.r.i.c.klier than intended.

"But you do, don't you? Over the holidays."

I think about Gen in my bedroom over Thanksgiving. And then again over Christmas. The truth washes over me in a tidal wave. It's true. Hattie has been trying to tell me for years. I treat Gen like a friend, and I treat her like a child.

I mother her.

Hattie hasn't been my baby sister in ages. I've been condescending, and I've never seen nor treated her like an equal. She needs me to be a confidante. A friend. And then the unexpected flip side illuminates inside of me: I need her to be mine even more.

"You should consider a double major," I say. "Law and psychology."

Sanjita smiles as if she's pleased to be seen. Just like me.

Chapter twenty-nine.

Sanjita and I talk more about college and the future. But we don't talk about Kurt. And we don't talk about Emily. And as January rolls into February, I realize that we probably never will. We've grown too far apart, and our past hurts were too big. Real friends.h.i.+p is no longer an option. But I don't feel melancholy about it I feel relieved. There's a measure of respect and well wishes between us. And that's not nothing.

Our conversation also made me realize how much I've missed having a female friends.h.i.+p in my life. Sanjita and I may never hang out again, but there's someone else here that I've been ignoring for far too long: Hattie.

It's time to let go of this stupid grudge. I know she didn't mean to get Josh and me in trouble. And she didn't get us in trouble. She didn't get Josh expelled. We got ourselves in trouble, and Josh got himself expelled.

The pain of losing him is as visceral as ever. The only way I'll ever move past it is to make sure that the loss wasn't in vain. That I've learned something. At the very least, being proactive will feel better than sitting around and feeling sorry for myself. It takes me a while to figure out the right way to simultaneously apologize and make a gesture of friends.h.i.+p, but it takes me even longer to work up the nerve to talk to her.

She's my sister, but she's still intimidating as h.e.l.l.

I find the courage on an empty Sunday afternoon when Kurt is out potholing with his friends. Or...maybe it's not so much that I find the courage. Maybe it's more that I'm forced into it, because every time my world comes to a standstill, all I can think about is the Josh-size hole in my heart. It's too sad for me to be alone.

Hattie is sceptical at my text, but she agrees to meet me more willingly than I would've guessed. I wait outside her dorm. "Why did you want me to dress warmly?" she asks. "Are you taking me to a Siberian prison?"

I smile and cross the street without her. "Nope."

She hesitates. And then she catches up and walks beside me. "Abandoned research station in Antarctica?"

"Nope."

"You're taking me to practise for our two-person skeleton race at the Olympics."

"Yes."

"Do you think it's finally gonna snow?"

I'm thrown by her question, which sounds like a real one. She's staring at the sky. "I doubt it," I say. "We haven't been lucky so far. Why would that change now?"

"You used to be the positive sister," Hattie grumbles. We walk together silently to the other side of the Seine, and she's only further exasperated when we reach our destination. "Tante Juliette's. Is this an intervention? Did you find out about my s.e.x addiction? So I like old men in baby diapers, what's the big deal?"

"I didn't bring you to Tante Juliette's."

She snarls. "I've been here, like, a million times, remember?"

"Just shut up and follow me."

For some reason, Hattie does. She follows me up the stairs. Around the third floor, I look back over my shoulder and say, "Diapers, huh?"

"And those adult-size cribs. That's hot."

I laugh.

There's the quickest hint of a smile before she drops back into deadpan. "And unibrows. I like a geezer with a giant, coa.r.s.e unibrow."

I laugh again. "Oh G.o.d, Hattie."

We pa.s.s by the purple door with the leopard-print mat. "Yeah, see, that's definitely Tante Juliette's door," she says.

I lead her to mine. "And this?"

"Her stupid roof. Gen once threw my teddy bear over the edge, and a car ran over him. Sludge was never the same."

"She did? For real?" I'm startled. I don't remember this.

"Yeah, for real."

I unlock the door and head up the rickety steps. "Well. Sludge is safe. I promise I'm not leading you up here to re-enact a traumatic moment from your childhood."

"I know you wouldn't." I almost don't hear her say it, it's so quiet.

I pop open the trapdoor, and she squints into the sunlight. I reach for her hand and help her onto the roof. Her eyes widen. My unmovable, unshakable sister looks surprised by her surroundings. "Who did this?" she asks. "It's yours, isn't it? This looks like you."

I'm not sure if that's good or bad. "It's on loan. I've been using it for a few years."

Hattie whips around and narrows her eyes at me. "So Gen gave it to you? This is your place? The two of you?"

"Gen? No, Tante Juliette gave it to me soph.o.m.ore year. It was a place where Kurt and I could escape from...everyone else. Gen doesn't know about it."

"She doesn't?" There's a heartbreaking note of hope in her voice. And I know that everything Sanjita said is true.

I smile gently. "Nope. It's a secret. She doesn't know."

"It's pretty," Hattie finally says.

"Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Because it's yours now."