Year of Mistaken Discoveries (10 page)

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not like I’m giving you one of my kidneys or something.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s better than a kidney. I won’t forget you did it for me.” I looked up and smiled at him.

Brody flushed. “I’ll do it, but there are going to be rules.”

“Rules?”

He yanked on his sweater as if he needed to pull himself together. “Yes, rules. You don’t go off and do a bunch of stuff without me. This is a joint project. You include me in whatever you find out.”

“Deal.” I held out my hand to shake on it.

Brody shook his head. “That was just the first rule. The second rule is if you start having a hard time, you agree that we’ll stop.”

“I’m not going to have a hard time.” I tried to look calm and rational. “Nora and I are different.”

“Rule three,” Brody said, not commenting on what I’d said. “There’s no guarantee we’re going to find anyone. We agree now that the project isn’t about finding her, but about looking for her. We write it up either way.”

“Of course, but I really think we’ve got a good chance. I have part of a name—”

Brody cut me off. “No obsessing. That’s my point.”

I crossed my finger over my chest. “No obsessing. Is that it?”

“No. You also agree to go with me for some coffee or something.”

I scrunched up my eyebrows. Was he asking me out? “Like a date?”

He flushed. “No, not like a date. So we can sit down and make a plan for the project. I want to know exactly what you’re up to.”

“No problem. I’ll even buy.” I wanted to kick myself. I shouldn’t have made things awkward. “Is there a rule four?” The warning bell rang, and people in the hall picked up the pace.

“Rule four is that I get to make more rules if I need them.”

“Seems a bit unfair. How come you get to make up whatever rules you want?”

Brody smiled. “Because the Aquaman project is still an option.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

I shook his hand. “Deal.”

chapter thirteen

T
his would have been easier if we’d gone for coffee,” Brody said.

“But not nearly as tasty.”

I’ve long believed, despite common wisdom, there is no such thing as a bad time for ice cream. If nothing else, because it was so cold outside, we had Melting Moments all to ourselves, which gave me plenty of time to ponder my flavor options.

“I’ve seen people choose college majors in less time,” Brody said.

“Some things can’t be rushed.” I peered through the freezer case. “I’m torn between my tried-and-true favorite, mint chocolate chip, and vanilla with English toffee bits.”

“Get a scoop of both. Otherwise we’re still going to be standing here at graduation.”

The guy was a genius. “This is a good sign, you know,” I said, taking the cup from the clerk. “You’ve got the kind of problem-solving skills we’re going to need for this project.”

We grabbed a seat by the window with our ice cream and glasses of water, so that the warm air from the heater blew on our legs. I pulled out a binder and passed him a sheet of paper. “Okay, I made an outline of what the project might look like and broke each bit down into a to-do list.” I pointed at the sheet. “I color-coded the items by priority.”

Brody looked it over and whistled. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re really focused?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Are you calling me anal-retentive? I’ll have you know I’m very mellow.”

“It’s always the mild-mannered ones you have to watch out for. Ever notice after someone goes postal, everyone talks about how normal and quiet they seemed? Can’t be a coincidence.” Brody used his spoon to steal a bite of my ice cream.

I pretended to be annoyed and pulled my cup out of his reach. “Careful. If you think I can go wild, you’ve never seen me defend my ice cream. There is no rage like stolen junk food rage.”

Brody held up his hands in surrender. He looked back down at the page. “Looks like we’ve got a place to start, at least. Hopefully the rest of the project comes together this easy.” He shifted in his seat. I’d noticed he was almost always in motion. It was like he couldn’t be still. As he looked out the window,
I could see there was a small dab of ice cream on his cheek. I reached over with my napkin and wiped it off. He jumped slightly when I touched him.

“Thanks for this,” I said.

“You’re the one who bought.”

Brody had pulled out his wallet, but I’d waved it off and insisted on paying. It seemed like the least I could do. “I didn’t mean the ice cream—I meant agreeing to do the project with me. It’s going to turn out amazing.” I shoved my binder back in my bag. I scraped the bowl. “It’s hard to believe we’re doing senior projects already. This is a million miles away from the kind of project I thought I’d do.”

“I think it’s great that you’re doing this for Nora instead of picking some topic you think would impress the people at Duke. God, I get so sick of everyone losing their shit about getting into some school just to impress everyone else.” He raised his spoon at me. “Not to mention, it is way more interesting than education reform.”

A stab of guilt poked me in the chest. Now I was the one shifting in my seat. “It’s not wrong to want to get into a good school,” I said.

Brody brushed off my comment. “No. It’s just that so many people focus on it like it’s everything. It’s just a college. Four years out of a whole life.” He shook his head. “It’s moronic.”

“But where you go can make a huge difference down the road,” I pointed out.

Brody’s eyebrows went up. “Down the road? You sound like you’re forty. All I’m saying is that people worry too much about where they’re going and not enough about what they’re doing. Doing the right thing for Nora is what matters. Not selling out to some Ivy League school.” He smiled. “I think what you’re doing is cool.”

Suddenly the ice cream tasted like paste in my mouth. I wanted to explain that I was different. I wanted to get into Duke for the right reasons, but if I admitted now that I was doing the project for the admissions people, he’d hate me.

“Where are you hoping to go next year?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation.

Brody shrugged. “I’m not going to college next year.” I almost dropped my spoon, and Brody laughed. “You don’t have to look that shocked. I’m taking a year off, not planning to join the circus.”

He seemed so calm and sure about it, as if he didn’t have any doubt it was the right plan. “Aren’t you worried that you’ll get behind?” I asked.

“Behind what? Life’s a marathon, not a sprint. I feel like I need a year to figure out what I want.”

“So what are you going to do?” My mind started to turn through the options. “You could talk to some of the local photographers. They might take you on like an apprentice.”

Brody chuckled. “The world is a lot bigger than Lansing. My plan right now is to spend a couple of months after graduation
bumming around Europe taking pictures. When the money runs out, I’m going to go to New York. I’ve got a cousin living in Brooklyn who will let me crash on his couch for a couple months while I try and get a job.”

I knew there were people who did things like this, but it seemed like something you’d read in a book. Everyone I knew was going to college. A big school if they could, and if not, then one of the local community colleges. There was a girl in our class who was going into the army, but that was about as exotic as anyone got. “Wow.”

“I don’t know if it’s that exciting. It feels like high school has been this holding pattern. I want to get out. Do stuff.”

“Are you scared?” I blushed. Now he was going to think I was some kind of coward.

“Hell yeah. Are you kidding? I’m totally freaked out. With my luck I’ll fall into a Paris sewer or something. I don’t exactly have the best coordination.” He finished off his ice cream and tossed his cup into the trash. It hit the rim and then fell to the floor.

“Trying to prove your point?” I asked.

He leaned over and picked up the cup and dumped it in the trash. “Apparently.” He rubbed his hands on his pants. “Sorry if I got down on where you want to go to school. I’m sure Duke’s great.”

“It is,” I said.

“I’m just glad it’s not the focus of your life.” Brody’s spoon
dove back into my ice cream, stealing another bite. “That’s pathetic when people get like that. So, what do you want to do?”

“Like a major?”

“No, what do you want to do in life?”

I realized I was shredding the napkin and forced myself to put it down on the table. “It’s not that easy.”

Brody barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? It’s just about the hardest thing in the world.” He reached across the table and took my hands. “Close your eyes,” he ordered me.

“What?” I looked around to see if the ice-cream clerk was paying attention to us.

“Close ’em.”

I closed my eyes. His hands were warm, his thumb ran over the backs of my fingers, and I felt my breath catch.

“Okay, now list things that make you happy. No order. Doesn’t matter if they’re stupid or random, just list things that make you happy.”

I opened my eyes. “What’s the point of this?”

“The point is to figure out where to start. Try again. Close your eyes and tell me what makes you happy.”

I closed my eyes and my mind was blank. I couldn’t think of a thing that made me happy except for the fact that he was holding my hand, but you could stick a spoon in my eyes before I was going to admit that. “I don’t know,” I said.

“Don’t give up. Just think about what kinds of things make you happy.”

“Office supplies,” I spit out. My eyes flew open. “That sounds stupid. I don’t know why I said that.”

“No it doesn’t. Close ’em again. You like new notebooks, Post-it Notes . . .” His voice trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the next word.

“I like how expensive paper feels. And pens. I like those Sharpie markers that come in different colors.” Things started to rush into my head. “I like the sound of waves on a beach and how clothes that dried outside in the sun smell. I like really salty popcorn, being inside during a thunderstorm, and wrapping presents. I like writing and telling stories, and the feel of dogs’ ears, how they’re sort of soft and silky.” My eyes opened again; did I actually just admit a love for rubbing dog ears? Brody was smiling. I pulled my hands back and took a drink of my water, the straw making a sucking sound as it pulled in the last of the water from around the crushed ice. “I guess it’s clear: After graduation I need to move to the beach and get a dog.”

“It’s a place to start.” Brody stood and gathered up our napkins. “You don’t have to know the destination, just where to begin. Starting with what makes you happy is never a bad place.”

“While the dog and beach plan has merit, I feel like what I need to do first is find my birth mom and get through the rest of senior year.” I pushed away the rest of my ice cream and stood so I could stretch.

“You know she’s not going to have all the answers.”

“She doesn’t need to have them all. It’s just a place to make a start.”

Brody laughed. “Now you’re stealing my best lines.”

“Why would I steal the crappy ones?”

Brody threw his arm around me. “Excellent point.”

I leaned into his side; the warm weight of his arm on my shoulders felt good. I glanced up, and standing outside the window, Shannon and Lydia were looking in, their mouths open.

chapter fourteen

I
f there were awards for being persistent, then my friend Shannon would win one. There are people preparing for the Olympics or a moon landing who are less focused than her. As soon as we sat down with our trays in the cafeteria, she started back in again.

“It’s no big deal. I just didn’t know you guys were hanging out.”

“You knew Brody and I became partners for our senior project,” I said.

“It didn’t look like you guys were working on homework,” Shannon said under her breath.

“What did you guys decide to do as your project?” Lydia asked.

For some reason I didn’t want to tell them. It wasn’t that I
didn’t think they’d be supportive, but it seemed like something I wanted to keep between Brody and me. “We’re doing something on different family structures. Like how families should be defined.”

Shannon picked at her salad. Her fork chased a cherry tomato around the plate, trying to spear it.

“What’s the big deal, anyway? Brody’s nice,” I said. Shannon and Lydia exchanged a glance. I tossed my fork down on my tray. “Okay, seriously, guys, stop doing that. It makes me feel like you’re talking about me all the time.”

Lydia’s face scrunched up in an expression of concern. She’d make a great kindergarten teacher someday. “We’re not talking about you in a bad way. We’re worried about you.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

Shannon sniffed. “I wouldn’t call it fine.” She started ticking items off on her fingers before I could argue. “Nora died, your early app for Duke was shot down, you and Colton busted up, you haven’t made it to cheer practice in weeks, and now you’re spending all your time with Brody, who’s weird.”

“He’s not weird,” I protested.

“He’s weird,” Shannon said. She held up a hand to cut me off. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he’s a freak or something, but he doesn’t fit in with anyone. He wanders around the halls with that camera like he’s from another planet—”

Lydia cut her off. “I’m sure he’s nice. It’s more that he’s not part of our crowd.” She looked over her shoulder to see if
anyone was paying attention to our conversation and leaned forward so she could drop her voice. “Don’t tell Karl I told you, but Colton is totally bummed you guys broke up. He told Karl that he thought he made a mistake by letting you get away. Being sorta cool and hard to get is a good thing, but if Colton thought you’d hooked up with someone else, he’d never get in the middle of something like that.”

“I’m not sure I want to get back together with Colton,” I said.

“Now, see, that’s weird. Brody’s weirdness is rubbing off on you.” Shannon pointed at me with her fork. “Colton’s hot, he’s popular, and just about any girl in this school would kill to go out with him.”

I had an image of hordes of teen girls going all Hunger Games in a death match to win Colton’s hand.