Chapter Fourteen

“Pull over at this store up here, ” Paul called out to Trey, who was driving. “Okay? ”

Trey nodded and put on the turn signal. In the front seat, Lissa turned around to look at me, raising her eyebrows as she nodded toward the backseat console, where there was not only the standard ashtray and cup holder but also a separate CD player and a video screen.

“This car is amazing, ” she whispered. I had to agree with her. Trey drove one of those huge SUVs, fully loaded. It reminded me of a spaceship, full of glowing buttons and levers, and I half expected that somewhere to the left of the steering wheel would be a small switch marked WARP SPEED.

We pulled up in front of the Quik Zip and Trey cut the engine. “Who wants what? ” he asked. “It’s a long ride ahead. ”

“We definitely need provisions, ” Paul told him, opening his door. A small, polite chiming noise sounded, bing bing bing. “Beer and…? ”

“Skittles, ” Lissa finished for him, and he laughed.

“One pack of Skittles, ” he said. “Okay. Remy? ”

“Diet Coke, ” I told him. “Please. ”

He hopped out of the car, shutting his door behind him. Trey jumped out as well, leaving the keys in and the radio on low. We were on our way to the drive‑ in one town over that played triple features on summer nights. It wasn’t a double date, since Trey had a girlfriend at school, and we’d originally invited Chloe and Jess as well. But Jess had to baby‑ sit, and Chloe, having already dumped her nerd boyfriend, was now pursuing some guy she’d met at the mall.

“If I had a car like this, ” Lissa said now, turning around completely in her seat, “I would live in it. I could live in it. And still have room to rent. ”

“It is huge, ” I agreed, glancing behind me, where there were two more rows of seats before you even got close to the back door. “It’s kind of sick, actually. Who needs this much room? ”

“Maybe he buys a lot of groceries, ” Lissa suggested.

“He’s a college student, ” I told her.

“Well, ” she said, shrugging, “all I know is I wish he didn’t have a girlfriend. I’ve decided I like cute rich boys. ”

“What’s not to like, ” I said absently as I watched Paul and Trey eye the guy behind the counter‑ it was well‑ known underground information which Zip clerks checked IDs closely and which didn’t‑ and make their way to the rear of the store, picking up not one but two packs of Skittles for Lissa on the way. These boys did nothing in a small way, or so I was learning. Everything Paul had bought me in the two weeks we’d been dating had been Supersized or Doubled, and he always reached for his wallet immediately, not even entertaining my efforts to go Dutch every once in a while. He was still Perfect Paul, the Ideal Boyfriend Exhibit A. And yet something in me continued to nag, as if I just wasn’t enjoying this‑ the fruit of so many years of hard dating work‑ enough.

I heard a rattling noise and glanced over to my left, startled to see the Truth Squad van pull up right beside us. I started to lean back, out of sight, before remembering that the windows were tinted so black you couldn’t see in. Ted was behind the wheel, a cigarette poking out of his mouth, and John Miller was in the passenger seat. As we watched, he leaned down and pulled on his door handle, and it swung open, but for some reason he forgot to let go and was taken with it, quickly dropping out of sight, the door left ajar.

Ted glanced over at the empty seat, sighed in an irritated way, and got out of the van, slamming his door behind him. “Idiot, ” he said loud enough for us to hear as he rounded the front bumper, where we could still see him through the windshield. He was looking down at the pavement. “Are you hurt? ”

We couldn’t hear John Miller’s reply. But by then I was distracted anyway, because I’d spotted Dexter climbing clumsily into the front seat of the van, tripping over the gearshift before tumbling into the driver’s seat and then out the door, dropping to the pavement a bit more gracefully than John Miller but not by much. He had on the same orange T‑ shirt as the day I’d met him, with a white oxford cloth shirt over it. Sticking out of the front pocket was another one of those warped wedding cameras. He looked in Lissa’s window, peering close, but couldn’t see anything. She just stared back, as if on the hidden side of a two‑ way mirror.

“Isn’t that Dexter? ” she whispered, keeping her voice low‑ Trey’s window, on the driver’s side, was open‑ as he pulled the camera out of his pocket and leaned in, taking a picture of her black window. The flash lit the whole inside of the truck for a second, and then he went to stick it back in his pocket, missing once, before fitting it back in.

“Yeah, ” I said as we watched him stumble slightly as he rounded the front of the van, reaching out a hand to touch Trey’s bumper for support. He was weaving, and not in the typical Dexter‑ clumsy way. He seemed drunk.

“Okay, look you two, ” Ted announced as Dexter ambled up, “I said I’d get you here and I did. But I’ve got a date with Mary and she’s already pissed at me so this is the end of the line. I’m not a taxi service. ”

“My good man, ” I heard John Miller say, in a faux Robin Hood voice, “you have done your duty. ”

“Are you going to get up, or what? ” Ted asked.

John Miller got to his feet. He was still in his work clothes but looked entirely wrinkled, as if someone had balled him up in a pocket for a couple of hours. His shirt was hanging out, his pants totally creased, and he, too, had a disposable camera, sticking out of one of his pants pockets. He had a scratch on his cheek, too, which looked fresh, probably the result of the tumble from the van. He reached up and touched it, as if surprised to find it there, then let his hand drop.

“My good man, ” Dexter said, flopping an arm around Ted, who immediately made a face, clearly fed up, “we owe you the greatest of favors. ”

“My good man, ” John Miller echoed, “we will repay you with gold, and maidens, and our eternal allegiance to your cause. Huffah! ”

“Huffah! ” Dexter repeated, raising his fist.

“Will you two cut that shit out? ” Ted snapped, shaking off Dexter’s arm. “It’s annoying. ”

“As you wish, comrade, ” John Miller told him. “Raise a glass and huffah! ”

“Huffah! ” Dexter said again.

“That’s it. ” Ted started back to the van. “I’m gone. You guys can huffah all you want‑ ”

“Huffah! ” they yelled in unison. John Miller, throwing his arms into it, seemed close to tumbling over again.

“‑ but you get home on your own. And don’t do anything stupid, okay? We don’t have bail money right now. ”

“Huffah! ” John Miller said, saluting Ted’s retreating back as he walked away. “Thank you, oh kind sir! ”

Ted flipped them the bird, obviously over it, then coaxed the van’s engine to life and backed away, leaving them there in front of the Quik Zip, where they commenced taking pictures of each other posing by the newspaper racks. Inside, I watched as Paul and Trey chatted up the guy behind the counter as he slid their two six‑ packs into a paper bag.

“Okay, now give me some pout, ” Dexter was saying to John Miller, who struck a model’s pose, sticking out his chest and using a stack of coupon fliers as a prop, fanning them in front of his face and peeking over them, seductively. “There, that’s good! Great! ” The flash popped, and Dexter wound the film, giggling. “Okay, now do somber. That’s right. You’re serious. You’re hurt…”

John Miller looked out at the road, suddenly mournful, contemplating the Double Burger, which was across the street, with a wistful expression.

“Beautiful! ” Dexter said, and they both busted out laughing. I could hear Lissa chuckling in front of me.

John Miller had struck his best pose yet, draping himself across the phone booth and fluttering his eyelashes, when Dexter popped one last flash and ran out of film. “Damn, ” he said, shaking the camera, as if that would suddenly make more pictures appear. “Oh, well. So much for that. ”

They sat down on the curb. I kept thinking we should roll down the window, say something to let them know we were there, but already it seemed too late to do so without repercussions.

“Truth be told, my good man, ” John Miller said solemnly, turning his own disposable camera in his hands, “I am somber. And serious. And hurt. ”

“My good man, ” Dexter told him, leaning back on his palms and stretching his feet out in front of him, “I understand. ”

“The woman I love will not have me. ” John Miller squinted up at the sky. “She thinks I am not husband material, and, in her words, a bit immature. And today, in defiance of this proclamation, I quit my very easy job in which I made nine bucks an hour doing not very much at all. ”

“There are other jobs, my squire, ” Dexter said.

“And, on top of that, ” John Miller continued, “the band will mostly likely be rejected by yet another record label because of the artistic integrity of Sir Ted, who will drive us all into retirement by stubbornly refusing to admit that his potato opuses are a bunch of crap. ”

“Aye, ” Dexter said, nodding. “It is true. Young Ted may, indeed, shoot us all in the foot. ”

This was news to me, but not entirely surprising. Dexter had told me that Ted’s vehement insistence that they do no covers for a demo, ever, had worked against them in previous towns, with previous chances.

“But you, fine sir. ” John Miller clapped Dexter on the shoulder, a bit unsteadily. “You have problems of your own. ”

“This is true, ” Dexter replied, nodding.

“The women, ” John Miller sighed.

Dexter wiped a hand over his face, and glanced down the road. “The women. Indeed, dear squire, they perplex me as well. ”

“Ah, the fair Remy, ” John Miller said grandly, and I felt a flush run up my face. Lissa, in the front seat, put a hand to her mouth.

“The fair Remy, ” Dexter repeated, “did not see me as a worthwhile risk. ”

“Indeed. ”

“I am, of course, a rogue. A rapscallion. A musician. I would bring her nothing but poverty, shame, and bruised shins from my flailing limbs. She is the better for our parting. ”

John Miller pantomimed stabbing himself in the heart. “Cold words, my squire. ”

“Huffah, ” Dexter agreed.

“Huffah, ” John Miller repeated. “Indeed. ”

Then they just sat there, saying nothing for a moment. In the back of the Excursion, I could feel my heart beating. Watching him, I knew there was nothing I could do now to take any of it back. And I felt ashamed for hiding.

“What kind of money you got? ” John Miller said suddenly, digging into his own pocket. “I think we need more beer. ”

“I think, ” Dexter said, pulling out a wad of bills and some change, which he promptly dropped on the ground, “that you’re right. ”

Paul and Trey came out of the store then, and Paul yelled over at us, “Hey, Remy‑ was that diet you wanted or regular? I couldn’t remember. ” He stuck his hand in the bag he was carrying and pulled out two bottles, one of each. “I got you both, but…”

Lissa put her hand on the window button to lower it, then glanced back at me, not knowing what she should do. But I just froze, my eyes on Dexter. He looked at Paul, slowly comprehending the situation, and then over at the truck, at us.

“Diet, ” he said out loud, looking right at me, as if suddenly he could see me.

Paul looked over at him. “What’s that? ”

Dexter cleared his throat. “She wants diet, ” he said. “But not in a bottle, like that. ”

“Hey man, ” Paul said, smiling slightly, “what are you talking about? ”

“Remy drinks Diet Coke, ” Dexter told him, standing up. “But from the fountain drink thing. Extra large, lots of ice. Isn’t that right, Remy? ”

“Remy, ” Lissa said softly. “Should we‑ ”

I opened up my door and was out, dropping to the ground‑ it was unbelievable how high up the Excursion was‑ before I even really knew what I was doing. I walked up to them. Paul was still smiling, confused, while Dexter just looked at me.

“Huffah, ” he said, but this time John Miller didn’t chime in.

“This is fine, ” I said to Paul, taking the drinks from him. “Thanks. ”

Dexter was just staring at us and I could tell Paul was uneasy, wondering what was going on.

“No, it’s okay, ” Dexter said suddenly, as if someone had asked him. “Not awkward at all. But we’d say if it was, right? Because that’s the deal. The friends deal. ”

By now, Trey had started toward the truck, wisely knowing to keep out of this. John Miller walked into the Quik Zip. And then there were three.

Paul glanced at me and said, “Everything okay? ”

“Everything, ” Dexter told him, “is just fine. Fine. ”

Paul was still watching me, waiting for verification. I said, “It’s fine. Just give me a minute, okay? ”

“Sure. ” He squeezed my arm‑ as Dexter watched, a pointed look on his face‑ then walked over to the truck, climbing in and shutting the door behind him.

Dexter looked at me. “You know, ” he said, “you could have let me know you were there. ”

I bit my lip, looking down at the Diet Coke. I lowered my voice, then said, “Are you okay? ”

“Fine, ” he said, too quickly, then snapped his fingers, all happy‑ go‑ lucky. “Absolutely‑ freaking‑ fantastic! ” Then he looked at the truck again. “Man, ” he said, shaking his head. “That thing has a freaking Spinnerbait sticker on it, for God’s sake. Better hurry, Remy, old Tucker and Bubba the third are probably getting impatient. ”

“Dexter. ”

“What? ”

“Why are you acting like this? ”

“Like what? ”

Okay, so I knew why. This, in fact, was the standard post‑ breakup behavior, the way he should have been behaving all along. But since it was starting now, instead of then, I was thrown a bit.

“You were the one who said we should be friends, ” I said.

He shrugged. “Oh, come on. You were just playing along with that, right? ”

“No, ” I said.

“This is all you, ” he said, pointing one somewhat wobbly finger at my chest. “You don’t believe in love, so it just follows logic you wouldn’t believe in like, either. Or friendship. Or anything that might involve even the smallest personal risk. ”

“Look, ” I said, and now I was starting to get a little pissed. “I was honest with you. ”

“Oh, well let’s just give you a medal, then! ” he said, clapping his hands. “You break up with me because I might really like you, enough to look past just hooking up for the summer, and now I’m the bad guy? ”

“Okay, ” I said, “so you would have rather I lied and said I felt the same way, then dumped you a month later instead? ”

“Which would have been just so inconvenient, ” he said sarcastically, “making you miss Mr. Spinnerbait and that opportunity. ”

I rolled my eyes. “Is that what this is about? ” I asked him. “You’re jealous? ”

“That would make it simple, wouldn’t it? ” he said, nodding. “And Remy likes simple. You think you have everything figured out, that you can chart my reaction and what I’m saying on some little graph you keep tucked away. But life isn’t like that. ”

“Oh, really? ” I said. “Then what is it like? You tell me. ”

He leaned in very close to me, lowering his voice. “I meant what I said to you. I wasn’t playing some kind of summer game. Everything I said was true, from the first day. Every goddamn word. ”

My mind flitted back then, over the challenges, the jokes, the half‑ sung songs. What meaningful truth was there in that? It had only been that first day that he’d said anything big, and that was just‑

There was a whirring noise behind me, and next Lissa’s voice, slight and tentative. “Um, Remy? ” she asked, then cleared her throat, as if realizing how she sounded. “We’re going to miss the beginning of the movie. ”

“Okay, ” I said, over my shoulder. “I’ll be right there. ”

“We’re done anyway, ” Dexter explained, saluting the truck. To me he added, “That’s what this has been all about for you, correct? Making it clear. That you and me‑ it was nothing more than what you’ll have with Spinnerbait boy, or the guy after that, or the guy after that. Right? ”

For one split second, I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But there was something in the way he said this, a cocky angriness, that stopped me. He’d said himself I was a bitch, and once I would have taken pride in that. So sure, okay. I’d play.

“Yeah, ” I said, shrugging. “You’re right. ”

He just stood there, looking at me, as if I had actually changed before his eyes. But this was the girl I’d been all along. I’d just hidden her well.

I started to walk away, toward the truck. Paul opened the back door for me. “Is he bothering you? ” he asked, his face serious. “Because if he is‑ ”

“No, ” I said, shaking my head. “It’s fine. We’re done. ”

“Young knight! ” Dexter yelled at Paul, just as he was shutting the door. “Be forewarned, when she does have the fountain drink, she has a vicious arm on her. She will peg you, my good man. When you least see it coming! ”

“Let’s go, ” Paul said, and Trey nodded, starting to back up.

As we drove away I was determined not to look back. But in Lissa’s side mirror, I could still see him standing there, shirttails flapping, arms spread, up in the air, as if waving us off on a grand trip while he stayed behind. Bon voyage, take care. Go in peace. Huffah.

The next day when I got back from spending the night at Lissa’s, my mother was home. I dropped my keys on the side table, my purse on the stairs, and was just starting into the kitchen when I heard her.

“Don? ” she called out, her voice bouncing down the hallway that led to the new wing. “Honey? Is that you? I took an earlier flight, thought I could surprise‑ ” She rounded the corner, the sandals she was wearing clicking across the floor, then stopped when she saw it was me. “Oh, Remy. Hello. I thought you were Don. ”

“Obviously, ” I said. “How was Florida? ”

“Heavenly! ” She walked over and hugged me, pulling me close against her. She had a nice tan and a new haircut, shorter and streaked with a bit of blond, as if in Florida you are required by law to go tropical. “Just wonderful. Invigorating. Rejuvenating! ”

“Wow, ” I told her as she released me, stepping back. “All that in only three days? ”

“Oh, ” she sighed, walking ahead of me into the kitchen, “it was just what I needed. Things have been so busy and stressful since the wedding, and then before the wedding with all the planning and organizing… it was just too much, you know? ”

I decided not to point out how little wedding planning she had actually done, figuring she was going somewhere with this. So instead I just leaned against the sink as she pulled an Ensure out of the fridge, popping the little tab top and taking a sip.

“But once I was there, ” she said, pressing a hand to her heart and closing her eyes, dramatically. “Sheer heaven. The surf. The sunsets. Oh, and my fans. I just felt like I was finally myself again. You know? ”

“Yeah, ” I agreed, although it had been a while since I’d felt anything like myself. All night I’d kept seeing Dexter in my mind, arms waving, calling after me.

“So I came home on an earlier flight, hoping to share this new feeling of contentment with Don, but‑ he’s not here. ” She took another sip of her Ensure, glancing out the kitchen window. “I guess I was just feeling hopeful. ”

“He hasn’t been around at all, ” I told her. “I think he worked, like, all weekend. ”

She nodded gravely, putting the Ensure down on the counter. “It’s been such a problem for us. His work. My work. All the details of each. I feel like we haven’t even had a chance to really bond as husband and wife yet. ”

Uh‑ oh, I thought again, as a warning bell sounded softly in my head. “Well, ” I began, “you’ve only been married a couple of months. ”

“Exactly, ” she said. “And while I was gone, I realized that we really have to focus on this marriage. The work can wait. Everything can wait. I think I’ve been guilty too long of putting other things first, but not this time. I just know things are going to be better now. ”

Okay. So that sounded positive. “That’s great, Mom. ”

She smiled at me, pleased. “I really believe it, Remy. We may have had a bumpy adjustment, but this one’s for good. I’m finally realizing what it takes to really be a partner. And it just feels great. ”

She was smiling so happily, with this new conversion. As if somewhere high over the Southeast seaboard, she’d finally found the answer to the puzzle that had eluded her for so long. My mother always had ducked out of relationships when the going got tough, not wanting to dirty her hands with messy details. Maybe people could change.

“Oh, goodness, I just can’t wait to see him, ” she said to me now, walking to the table and picking up her purse. “I think I’ll just run down to the dealership and bring him lunch. He loves it when I do that. Honey, if he calls, don’t let on, okay? I want it to be a surprise. ”

“Okay, ” I told her, and she blew me a kiss as she sailed out the door and across the lawn to her car. I had to admire it, that absolute kind of love that couldn’t even wait a couple of hours. I’d never felt that strongly about anyone. It was nice, this rushing need to say something to someone right this very second. Almost romantic, really. If you liked that sort of thing.

The next morning I was in line at Jump Java, half asleep and waiting for Lola’s morning mocha, when I saw the white Truth Squad van pull up outside, rattling to a stop in the fire lane. Ted hopped out and came into the store, pulling some wrinkled bills out of his pocket.

“Hey, ” he said when he saw me.

“Hey, ” I replied, pretending to be engrossed in a story on redistricting on the front page of the local newspaper.

The line for coffee was long, and full of cranky people who wanted their drinks made with such intricate specifics that it gave me a headache just listening to the orders. Scarlett was working the espresso machine, trying to keep up with a slew of nonfat, soy‑ milk double‑ tall requests with a sour look on her face.

Ted was a bit behind me in line, but then the guy between us, disgusted by the wait, walked out. Which left us next to each other, so we had no choice but to talk to each other.

“So Lucas told me you guys have a meeting with Rubber Records, ” I said.

“Yup. Tonight, in D. C. We’re leaving in an hour. ”

“Really, ” I said as we slowly crept forward about an inch in the line.

“Yeah. They want us to play for them, you know, in the office. And then maybe at this showcase on Thursday, if they can get us a spot. Then, if they like us, it might get us something permanent up there. ”

“That’s great. ”

He shrugged. “It is if they like our stuff. But they’re pushing for some stupid covers instead, which, you know, totally goes against our integrity as a band. ”

“Oh, ” I said.

“I mean, the other guys, they’d do freaking anything for a contract, but, you know, to me it’s about more than that. It’s about music, man. Art. Personal expression. Not a bunch of corporate, upper‑ management bullshit. ”

A businessman holding the Wall Street Journal glanced back at us, but Ted just looked at him, indignant, until he faced forward again.

“So you’re doing ‘The Potato Opus’? ” I asked.

“I think we should. That’s what I’ve been pushing all along. Like us for our original stuff, or not at all. But you know Lucas. He’s never been behind the potato stuff at all. He’s so freaking lowbrow, it’s ridiculous: I mean, he was in a hair‑ metal band. What the hell does he know about real music? ”

I wasn’t sure what to say to this.

“And then there’s John Miller, who’d play anything as long as he doesn’t have to go back to school and push paper in his daddy’s company some day. Which leaves us with Dexter, and you know how he is. ”

I was startled, slightly, at this. “How he is? ” I repeated.

Ted rolled his eyes. “Mr. Positive. Mr. Everything’s‑ Gonna‑ Be‑ All‑ Right‑ I‑ Swear. If we left it up to him, we’d just go up there with no game plan, no set of demands, and just see how it goes. ” He flipped his hand in a loose, silly way, punctuating this. “God! No plan, no worries whatsoever. Ever! I hate people like that. You know what I’m talking about. ”

I took in a breath, wondering how to respond to this. It was the same thing I’d always been so annoyed with about Dexter, as well, but coming from Ted it sounded so small‑ minded, and negative. He was so opinionated, so sure he knew everything. God. I mean, sure, maybe Dexter didn’t think things through quite enough, but at least you could stand to‑

“Next! ” Scarlett yelled. I was at the front of the line. I stepped up and told her I wanted Lola’s regular, then moved aside so Ted could get his extra‑ large, black coffee, no lid.

“Well, ” I said, as he paid, “good luck this week. ”

“Yeah, ” he replied. “Thanks. ”

We walked out together, him to the van, me starting down to Joie, where I was ticking down my last days as receptionist ex traordinaire. It was August 20, and I was leaving for school in three weeks. If we’d stayed together, I’d always assumed it would be me leaving Dexter behind. But now, I saw, it might have been me staying here, watching him go. Funny all the ways things could work out. But this was better, totally. Of course it was.

With Dexter gone for a full week, I didn’t have to worry about chance encounters or awkward moments. It made life so much easier, and inspired me to really get things done, as if him being in my same area code was enough to affect my sense of equilibrium.

First, I cleaned. Everything. I detailed my car, Armor All‑ ing every inch of it, and had my oil changed. I shampooed the interior, realphabetized my CDs, and, yes, cleaned the windows and windshield from the inside. This inspired me so much I tackled my room, stuffing four garbage bags with my closet discards for the thrift shop before hitting the clearance rack at the Gap, to stock up on new, college‑ me clothes. I was so industrious I shocked myself.

How had I gotten so disorganized? Once, keeping the vacuum cleaner lines even on my bedroom carpet was second nature. Now, struck with this sudden fervor, I found mud tracks in my closet, spilled mascara in my cosmetic drawer, one mismatched shoe‑ one! ‑ stuffed far underneath my bed. It made me wonder if I’d been in some sort of fugue state. Restoring order to my personal universe suddenly seemed imperative, as I refolded my T‑ shirts, stuffed the toes of my shoes with tissue paper, and arranged all the bills in my secret stash box facing the same way, instead of tossed in sloppy and wild, as if by my evil twin.

All week, I kept making lists and crossing things off them, ending each day with a sense of great accomplishment eclipsed only by complete and total exhaustion. This, I told myself, was exactly what I’d wanted: a clean exit, smooth and effortless, every t crossed and i dotted. There were only a few more loose ends, a couple of items to deal with. But I already had a game plan set, the steps numbered and outlined clearly, and there was still plenty of time.

“Uh‑ oh, ” Jess said darkly as we sat at Bendo. “I know that look. ”

Chloe looked at her watch. “Well, ” she said, “it is about that time. You leave in three weeks. ”

“Oh no! ” Lissa cried, finally catching on. “Not Paul. Not yet. ”

I shrugged, sliding my beer in a circle on the table. “It makes sense, ” I said. “The time I have left, I want to concentrate on being with my family. And you guys. There’s no point in dragging it out so there has to be some big airport scene with him. ”

“Good point, ” Chloe agreed. “He definitely hasn’t been of airport status. ”

“But I like Paul, ” Lissa said to me. “He’s so sweet. ”

“He is, ” I said. “But he’s also temporary. As I am for him. ”

“And so, he joins the club, ” Chloe said, holding up her beer. “To Paul. ”

We drank, but even as I did so I flashed back to what Dexter had said to me in the parking lot of the Quik Zip, about how he’d end up no different from the guy before, or the guy after. And he wasn’t, really. Just a blip between Jerk Jonathan and Perfect Paul, one more summer boyfriend who was already fading from memory.

Or was he? Dexter had been on my mind. I knew it was because things had, in fact, ended badly, regardless of our efforts. He was one thing that didn’t get done as planned, and I couldn’t check him off the way I wanted to.

Paul, on the other hand, had been inching that way for the last few days. But honestly, I hadn’t really been in it from the get‑ go. It wasn’t his fault. Maybe I was just tapped out and needed a break instead of starting something new. But so often I’d felt like I was going through the motions, moving mechanically as we talked, or went to dinner, or hung out with his friends, or even made out in the darkness of his room or mine. Sometimes, when we weren’t together, I had trouble even picturing him clearly. It seemed, in light of this, the right time to end things neatly and totally.

“The boyfriend club, ” Jess said now, leaning back in the booth. “God. How many guys has Remy dated? ”

“A hundred, ” Lissa said instantly, then shrank back when I looked at her. “I mean, I don’t know. ”

“Fifty, ” Chloe decided. “Not less than. ”

They all looked at me. “I have no idea, ” I said. “Why are we talking about this? ”

“Because it’s topical. And now, as you are about to leave to spread your dating experience across not only this town but also the country ‑ ”

Jess laughed out loud.

“‑ it’s only fair that we run through a greatest hits, if you will, of your past just as you embark on your present. ”

“Are you drunk? ” I asked her.

“First! ” she said, ignoring me. “Randall Baucom. ”

“Oh, Randall, ” Lissa sighed. “I loved him too. ”

“That was sixth grade, ” I pointed out. “God, how far back are we going? ”

“Next, ” Jess said, “seventh grade. Mitchell Loehmann, Thomas Gibbs, Elijah what’s‑ his‑ bucket…”

“The one with the jug head, ” Lissa added. “What was his last name? ”

“I never dated anybody with a jug head, ” I said indignantly.

“Then we had the six months of Roger, ” Chloe said, shaking her head. “Not a good time. ”

“He was an asshole, ” I agreed.

“Remember when he cheated on you with Jennifer Task and the whole school knew but you? ” Lissa asked me.

“No, ” I said darkly.

“Moving on, ” Chloe sang out, “we get to ninth grade, and the triple whammy of Kel, Daniel, and Evan, as Remy methodically works her way through the offensive line of the soccer team. ”

“Now, wait just a second, ” I said, knowing I was getting defensive, but God, I had to stick up for myself sometime. “You’re making me sound like a total slut. ”

Silence. Then they all burst out laughing.

“Not funny, ” I grumbled. “I’ve changed. ”

“We know you have, ” Lissa said earnestly, patting my hand in her sweet way. “We’re just talking about the old days here. ”

“Why don’t we talk about you guys, then? ” I said. “How about Chloe and the fifty‑ odd people she’s dated? ”

“I cheerfully claim every one of them, ” she said, smiling at me. “God, Remy. What’s up with you? Lost your touch? Not proud of your conquests anymore? ”

I just looked at her. “I’m fine, ” I said.

The count continued, while I tried not to squirm. There were guys I didn’t remember‑ Anton, who’d worked selling vitamins at the mall‑ and guys I wished I didn’t, like Peter Scranton, who’d turned out to be not only a total jerk but also involved with a girl from a school in Fayetteville who’d made the two‑ hour trip to town specifically to kick my ass. That had been a fun weekend. And still the names kept coming.

“Brian Tisch, ” Lissa said, folding down a finger. “He drove that blue Porsche. ”

“Edward from Atlantic Beach, ” Jess added. “The two‑ week required summer fling. ”

Chloe took a deep breath, then said dramatically, one hand fluttering over her chest, “Dante. ”

“Oh, man! ” Jess said, snapping her fingers. “The exchange student. Remy goes international! ”

“Which leads us, ” Chloe said finally, “to Jonathan. And then Dexter. And now…”

“Paul, ” Lissa said sadly, into her beer. “Perfect Paul. ”

Who was now, as I watched, walking in the door of Bendo, pausing to get his ID checked. Then he saw me. And smiled. He started across the room, the same way Jonathan had, unaware of what was about to happen. I took a deep breath, telling myself that by now this should be second nature, like falling into the water and instantly knowing to swim. But instead I just sat there as he approached.

“Hey, ” he said, sliding in beside me.

“Hey. ”

He took my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine, and suddenly I felt so tired. Another breakup. Another end. I hadn’t even taken the time to figure out how, exactly, he’d react, the kind of prep work that had always come naturally before.

“You need a beer? ” he asked me. “Remy? ”

“Look, ” I said, and the words came on their own, no thought required. It was just process, cold and indifferent, like plugging numbers into an equation, and I could have been someone else, listening and watching this, for all I felt. “We need to talk. ”