Chapter Twenty

College

I was the last daughter to go off to college. I'm not going to say my parents were happy to see me go, but they weren't crying themselves to sleep like they did when Hattie left. My mom had plans for my bedroom - Gracie's room had been turned into a craft room and Hattie's became my dad's closet slash man-cave.

I had a dorm room on campus at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts that I shared with another girl from the ballet program. I was excited, nervous, scared, ready. Everything I could feel I felt, including the preemptive homesickness for my friends. Johnny and I already mapped out the route from me to him, Winston-Salem to Clemson. The drive would be easy. Johnny met his roommate earlier in the summer, and he figured Wyatt would be comfortable with me spending the night sometimes when I came down to visit.

Half of me wanted the college experience that would support my career goals. The other half wanted to go to football games and frat parties and get hammered and stay up all night with friends. Johnny said I could have the best of both worlds: when I felt like partying, I could visit the boys. Boy s , because Tucker would also be going to Clemson. I felt jealous that they'd have something between the two of them that didn't include me. I felt jealous of the girls who would inevitably throw themselves at Tucker. I felt left out.

I packed my things into my mom's van. She and my dad drove the four and a half hours to drop me off, but they only stayed long enough to help me unload my things, they had to hurry back for some work event. My mom kissed my cheek, and my dad handed me a wad of cash. I would see them in a few weeks anyway, for Gavin's wedding.

I cried when they left.

I expected my roommate the next day, so I spent the first night in my dorm alone. I had brand-new sheets and a brand-new comforter, but I couldn't bring myself to put them on the bed. I didn't get my clothes put away or my decorations out, I just laid on my bed and sobbed.

I'd never been home alone before. I never even spent the night in my house alone. I went off to ballet intensives for several weeks every summer - to Joffrey, to Ballet West, San Francisco Ballet - but I was always immediately thrust into a world of dance with other people around all of the time. School hadn't started yet. I didn't know anyone in North Carolina.

I went to sleep alone for the first time in my life.

The next morning, I woke up in a quiet, strange space, lying on a blue mattress. My sweatpants shed lint on the scratchy plastic surface, my arms against my chest under a Pine Place High School Baseball sweatshirt. Tucker gave it to me to wear months ago when I was cold one day at Johnny's house. I lay on my bed for a little while before I needed to be somewhere comforting. I thought of my car. It felt like home, it smelled familiar. I grabbed my keys and went outside.

In the parking lot, I made a motion toward my car and then stopped. The hood of a muddy black truck shined in the sunlight. My first thought: that looks like Tucker's truck. It hurt to think so, made me miss home, then I realized the boy sleeping in the driver's seat, with his head tilted back and his mouth open, looked just like Tucker.

Because it was him.

Flooded with immediate relief and confusion, I'd never been so happy to see someone in my life.

I ran to his door and knocked on the window. He rattled his head and opened his eyes. When he saw me, his mouth curved up into a smile.

"What are you doing here?" I yelled through the glass.

He rubbed his rumpled face and opened the door. "Hey, Ella," he began, stepping outside.

I repeated, "Tucker, what are you doing here?"

His mouth opened, it closed. He looked at my sweatshirt, probably my reddened teary eyes as well, then reached back into his truck. "Um…I…I wanted to give you this back."

"A hair clip?"

He looked at the chunk of black plastic in his hand. "Yeah, you know, you left it in my car a few months ago. Since you moved, you might need it."

"You drove four hours this morning to bring me a hair clip?"

"Well," he squinted. "I actually came last night. Just in case you were - I mean, Johnny said you were going to be all alone - I didn't know if you'd need anything and I just wanted to…to be around in case…in case you…"

He trailed off. His throat became red and blotchy, and the emotion plastered on his face was one of reproach. Tucker's hand shook. He grabbed mine and pressed the clip in it.

"So, you're okay?" he said, quickly. "I should probably go now that you have your -"

"Elijah," I interrupted. I started to cry. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

His face softened. He thought he'd made a mistake, but my reaction said otherwise.

I bowled into him, just like I'd done when he rescued me on prom day and pressed my crying face into his chest. Tucker wasn't hesitant this time. He hugged me back. Tightly. He knew I needed that.

He muttered into my hair. "How was your first night?"

"Lonely," I mumbled.

"Let's go get breakfast," he said, pulling back. He looked at my attire. "Do you want to change, or -"

"I don't want to go back in there." I wanted to stay out here, holding onto his shirt, back where I was home and safe.

Tucker's eyes dropped. He looked at me like he did prom night, when everything went wrong, and he begged me to tell him. He wanted to fix it. "Okay."

He held my hand and walked me around to his passenger seat. Tucker drove me to iHop, and I ordered my childhood breakfast – banana waffles with a side of chocolate chips. When I made it at home, I called it Waffles a la Ella and my mother called it unhealthy.

We sat opposite each other in a red, ripped booth. The table had coffee stain circles and our waitress had gray hair that reached her hips. Piano jazz music played overhead. I knocked over the plastic flower beside the metal napkin holder and Tucker righted it. I'll remember everything about that day, every minute detail, for the rest of my life.

While Tucker talked about emailing his new roommate and Gavin's upcoming bachelorette party, I couldn't stop staring at him. My chest bubbled. I couldn't stop smiling. The urge to cry came in waves. Every time I started to, he would reach across the table, wipe the tears away, and keep talking. He never spoke this much, but I wasn't talking at all. Tucker could always sense what I needed. At that moment, I needed to just sit and soak it in.

I wanted to hold his hand. I wanted to thank him for this, but no gesture would ever match. How did he always know ? I wondered. I last saw him two nights before. The three of us had gone out for a last meal. To annoy him - and because I wanted to taste it - I took two bites of his burrito when he went to the bathroom. When he came back, he said, "Fuck you," cut his burrito and gave me half. He tried to stick a black bean up my nose.

After he paid for my breakfast, Tucker came to my dorm with me.

"This is nice," he said, looking around at the blank slate, my belongings in boxes and my clothes in my open suitcase.

"It's small," I say.

"You're going to be busy. It's not like you're going to be sitting in here." He looked at the mound of clothes and sheets on my bed. "That bed is for you and you only, do you hear me?"

" Tucker ."

He smiled. "You want to put the sheets on?"

He helped me set up the bed. He hooked my laptop up to the Wi-Fi. He put my clothes in the closet after I put them on hangers. "I think I'd like to move on to your underwear now," he said, and I tossed a pillow at his face.

After I had completely unpacked, we sat on my bed. I asked him, "Are you excited about college?"

"Hell yeah," he said. "I've wanted to go to Clemson since Jake left, and I'm excited to finally get out of Pine Place. I'd like to be in a town with more than two gas stations."

"And a donut shop."

"Ah." He smiled, meeting my agreement. "You remember that?"

I bumped his elbow and felt a little embarrassed that I did remember. "You loved Hole In One. It's all you talked about for months."

"I mean, of all the places to go out of business, we lose our one donut shop?" He sighed. "What a mystery." He looked sideways. "If I ever find a blueberry Oreo donut anywhere else, I'll text you."

"Okay," I said quietly.

He moved his head around. "Do you feel better now that you're unpacked?"

"Maybe I will later. I'm just kind of surprised at myself. I thought this would be easier."

"Why?"

"Because I went away every summer for three years. I'm okay being away from home. I like meeting new people, but…now I don't get to come home. This isn't a four-week camp. This is my life now."

He said, "Home isn't going anywhere."

You are, I thought. I looked at him and muttered, "We're all moving on and doing new things. Nothing will be like it was."

"That's life, Ell." He twirled the bottom of my hair. I felt the comfort of his fingers on my back. "We can't stop it, we can only ride the wave. Your family's not going anywhere. Your home isn't going anywhere. You still have your sisters and Johnny and -"

He stopped there and I knew why. We weren't friends . We went on a kind of date once, we kissed a handful of times, we hung out with our mutual friend, and he drove me around when I needed a ride. We shared a birthday cake.

Not calling him a friend was stupid, but also felt like a distinction. Johnny was my friend. None of the things I did or wanted to do or felt for Tucker I experienced with Johnny.

There wasn't a word for Tucker.

He finished, "Me." It came out strong. Purposeful. He reiterated, "You'll always have me."

I smiled.

He smiled back.

I wanted him to keep talking, to never stop, and I needed to scoot closer to him. I wanted him to tell me my hands were perfect and wrap me in his long arms. So, I did. "Will you put your arm around me?"

He watched me inch closer to his side. His throat bobbed. "Like this?" he whispered, curling his left arm over my shoulder.

My head pressed into his shirt, it smelled like his car and his sweatshirts, and I circled my arms around his body. The action incited a tightening from him. His spine, his breath. I read his body language and responded, "I know we don't hug. You can tell me if you want me to stop."

"Never." His lips parted against the crown of my head. "But, why are you hugging me now?"

Tears edged out. "Because you feel like home."

Tucker was quiet a moment. "Is that because I remind you of your family or…is it because…" I swayed when he rubbed his jaw. "Never mind, forget I said anything."

I didn't know what he was asking, but I knew what I wanted to say. "Sometimes, it feels like you and I have this connection. It makes me feel like more of myself. I don't know how to explain it." I brushed back a tear. "It must be a birthday thing."

"Yeah. I feel it, too." He pulled me tighter to him. I noticed his head turn down, toward his phone. "What time does your roommate get here?"

"She texted that it would be after one."

Then, Tucker said, "I have to go."

"No, you don't." I lifted my chin to him.

He frowned. "Johnny covered for me last night, but he won't do it again."

"Does he know you're here?"

"Um, no." Tucker's fingertips dragged along my forearm, the one pressed against his chest. "My mom told me to be back by dinner. I've only got a few more nights at home, and she wants to keep me hostage."

I said, "Your mom won't care if you're here with me."

He snorted, watching how he touched me. "Actually, that's probably the one thing she would care about."

His eyes met mine. My stomach clenched.

"I have to go, Ella," he whispered. "I can't stay with you."

"Okay."

I walked him outside to his car and he instructed, "Call me if you need anything, okay? I'm only a short drive away."

"Yeah, a short four-hour drive." I smiled.

He shrugged.

I swung my arms around his shoulders, rising to my tiptoes, and squeezed his neck. Tucker's arms crossed my back, pulling him to me. My feet lifted. His face rested on my shoulder. He breathed, shaky, into my skin and I pulled him tighter, imprinting this gesture into my body.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"I love you," he murmured.

I almost forgot it was a joke. When his arms relaxed, I planted my face on his, kissing him. He kissed me back, his lips moving for another catch when I leaned away and dropped to my feet.

"I'm sorry," I groaned, covering my face. "I don't know why I did that."

I couldn't see his expression, but I heard his exasperation and the shuffle of his feet. He said, "It's okay." He tapped his hands on his car door. "Okay. Okay , I'm going to go."

I held my burnt cheeks between my hands, watching him start the truck and give me one last somber look.

"Wait!" I unclipped my hair, letting it fall around my face and ran up to his window. I tossed the clip onto the passenger seat. "I'll see you soon."

Tucker blinked, biting back a smile. "I'll see you soon."