Every Little Thing

15

The words don't leave me for a long time after that. I keep replaying them, over and over again in my head, and I still can't get over it. The heartbreak that man must have felt, looking at the woman he met for a split second, a mere night, and to have it all end. Just like that.

Worry begins to settle in the pit of my stomach as I think about it-the fact that maybe, one day, I'll find someone and fall in love and never see them again. That one day, I won't be able to do anything but remember a face, a name, nothing else. One singular moment in time that will be snatched away before I have the time to commit it to memory.

And suddenly I look over at Reed, who walks alongside me as we make our way back to the trolley stop, the world around us illuminated by street lamps and bright lights and our books tucked under our arms, and I feel my chest constrict. What if this is it? What if he disappears tomorrow? What if he moves away, or is forced to switch schools, or simply decides he no longer wants any part in my life?

And it's like I finally understand why he's been wanting me to take risks—it's because you never know which day is going to be your last.

I keep this thought branded in my mind as the colors and lights flash by, blurring and spinning until the trolley comes to our stop. Reed and I get out, walking quietly down the street to my house, no interruptions, no words exchanged. Just silence, the comfortable kind, in which we're thinking about different things and allowing ourselves to stay in our own little worlds.

It stays that way for a long time, until we reach my house, and I start towards the front door.

"Good night, Evelyn," he tells me, "I had a great time."

"Me, too," I reply, and I mean it. His eyes drop to the book in my hands, then slowly drift back up to me, and he gives a melancholy smile.

"Have you taken that risk yet?" He asks then, and I give a laugh.

"No, Reed," I say, with equal playfulness in my tone, "But when I do, you'll be the first to know."

"I'm holding you to that."

And with one final salute, he turns on his heel and walks away, hands shoved deep into pockets with a certain kind of spring in his step, almost triumphant, and although our day had been somewhat uneventful, I can't help but feel the slightest bit of satisfaction, too.

________

"After all this time," Georgina sighs into the phone, "You two are finally talking."

"And that's all it is," I tell her firmly, scrubbing at the dishes piled high in the sink, "Just talking."

"Could turn into more," she reasons, "That's what happened with Hale and I."

I pause, clutching the receiver closer to my ear as I say, "Oh, yeah, I meant to ask you about that-why on earth was I unaware of what you two had going on?"

She sucks in a breath, a few moments of silence passing between us before she admits, "Because I never told you anything. I didn't think you'd like him."

I set down a plate, astounded. "And where did you get that idea?"

"Well, he's not exactly—" she pauses, and I can imagine her nose crinkled in thought, "Brilliant. I guess I thought you'd judge me for having a jock as a boyfriend."

"Georgie."

"Impractical, I know. I just didn't want you thinking that I liked him because of his looks and nothing else, you know?"

I do know. In fact, I'd been worried about Reed for that exact same reason—but that was until I realized that he's kind of a total genius. I feel bad, though, that Georgie would think that of me.

"Well, just to clarify," I say then, justifying my thoughts, "I would never think that of anybody. I just want you to be happy, and he makes you happy."

"Thanks, Evie," she replies brightly, but I don't miss the note of relief in her voice. "So what are you doing now?"

"Cleaning up before Mom gets home," I say, glancing at the clock hung in the corner of our kitchen, "Which should be any minute now. Want to come over?"

"As much as I love you and Lily," she says, with a little sigh of disappointment, "I can't. Hale and I are going out on a date."

"Just the two of you?" I ask, trying to mask my surprise and sound more nonchalant, "I always thought you two were more comfortable in group scenarios."

"We are," she says, her tone suddenly vague, "But he figured it would be better if we—tried it out. The whole dating thing."

"Jesus," I say, with a laugh, "Never took you as much of a dating person."

"I know, right? It's weird—when I'm with him, I want to try everything. New things, old things, all things. It's like I'm slowly coming out of my shell, and it's all thanks to him. No holding back, you know?"

No, I don't know. Out loud, I reply,

"Yeah, I totally get it. I hope you guys have fun, though. Where are you going?"

"A little restaurant on the pier—some seafood place. We figured it would be nice, kind of retro. Have you ever been?"

I almost laugh, remembering Reed and me in the exact same restaurant, trapped for an hour with no other means of heat. The memory, so clear and vivid in my mind, begs to be kept private, and I hold myself from telling her.

"Nope, I've never heard of it. You'll have to tell me about it."

"Oh, definitely." I hear a faint chiming in the distance, and then she says, "Oh, that's him. Talk to you later?"

"You bet," I reply, and she hangs up with a click.

I sigh, leaning against the counter and going back to the dishes, unable to stop imagining what it would be like if it were Reed and I, going to the restaurant, trying new things, doing things together.

Stop it.

And I do. Luckily, that's when I hear the front door open and Mom calls out,

"Evelyn? Are you home?"

"Hey!" I reply, rushing through the kitchen and into the foyer. I smile when I see her, bogged down with groceries. "Do you need help with—"

But then I see who's standing next to her, and it takes everything I have to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.

"Hey," Reed Bishop himself says brightly, and lifts up what looks like six grocery bags, three in each hand. "Mind helping me out with these?"