You Win

I was in the kitchen, eating a couple of recently made M&M cookies. My mom gave me a look, clearly disapproving of my eating habits.

“You should eat some more of that soup I made you,” she said. “There’s a whole pot of it in the fridge.”

I paused. “Yeah. I’ll eat some later.” She would be gone for a few days, so I could spend my time giving it to homeless people or stray dogs.

“Good,” she said. She looked at her watch and jumped about ten feet. “I have to go! I don’t even have my shoes on. I’ll see you later, honey!” She ran out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my cookies.

It was Monday, and still no word from Luke. Discouraging, but I was trying to stay realistic. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I didn’t want to get myself down, either. Whatever happens, happens. It was out of my hands. If Luke wanted to talk, he would let me know. If he didn’t, then I would just have to go from there.

I had been trying to stay calm all morning, and was doing a pretty good job at it. But I couldn’t stop thinking. Our friendship, or whatever we had—was it permanently damaged? Could a friendship be damaged beyond repair from one kiss? Possibly. It was a damn good kiss. A kiss like that could break someone. A kiss like that could change things forever. Especially with what happened after. Everything that happened after. I wanted to bang my head against the wall just thinking about all the things I had been stupid enough to mess up. All the things I had been stupid enough to say.

He had been right there. Within reach. I could’ve had him. I wished I could have gone back to that day and changed it. I would’ve given anything to just slap myself before I could do anything stupid.

If only Luke had come half an hour earlier. If only we had stopped like good little children. If only Carter hadn’t walked in at the wrong moment. There were so many little things that added up. I stood in the kitchen, staring at the place where the granite countertops met. The place where we had stood that day.

I couldn’t help but wonder, what would’ve happened if Carter had never sabotaged the newspaper contest? If I had never wanted to get revenge? Would Luke still have kissed me that day? I wouldn’t have been baking cookies, I wouldn’t have led him on… I thought back to how uncertain he’d appeared in the doorway. How he had to have known that Carter was working, and wouldn’t be home. How hurt he’d been when he’d escaped the kitchen.

Had he…? No. Maybe. It’s possible, right? Had he come to my house that day to profess his undying love for me? Maybe not in such a dramatic fashion as the phrase suggests, but I couldn’t help but wonder. Would Luke have kissed me even if I hadn’t tried to lead him on? Had that been his original intent upon coming to my house?

If the answer was yes, surely the world would have imploded by now.

“Hey, Mrs. B. How are you today?”

The voice brought me back to Earth and I froze. It was Luke’s voice, in the front hallway. He always asked my mom how she was doing when he saw her. And he always called her Mrs. B.

“Luke! How nice to see you. You haven’t been around lately,” she said, like she was scolding him. But I could tell she was smiling. She’d always adored him.

I didn’t catch what he said in response. It sounded like a bunch of useless mumbling to me.

“Well, Caroline’s in the kitchen. I’m off to the airport!” my mom said quickly, her voice getting higher. “I’m late, late, late!”

The door closed shut behind her. I wondered if Luke was still there. In my house. Why had he come? For Carter? But Carter was at work. By some miracle had he gotten my message in the newspaper? Was he here to make everything better so we could live happily ever after together for the rest of eternity?

I took in a breath, slowing my thoughts. Calm and collected. I waited in the kitchen for him to come to me. I had chased him enough. It was his turn. If he wanted talk, he could come to me.

I heard his footsteps, slow and steady. Much too slow. I wanted to scream. Why couldn’t he just hurry up? I wanted to see him. I wanted to apologize and make everything right.

And then he appeared. How wonderful. He was wearing dark-washed jeans and a plain black shirt. It looked like he had gotten his hair cut. It was mostly in place but a few pieces were messed up on top, like he had ran his fingers through it. A corner of his mouth lifted up the tiniest bit, but it was enough to set off a chorus of hallelujahs inside me. He wasn’t going to attack me. He was here and he wasn’t going to rip me to shreds or say mean things and then leave forever.

“Hey,” he said.

I wanted to cry. It was the first time since this all started that he had said something to me that indicated he didn’t think I was a horrible, horrible bitch.

“Hi,” I said. What to say? Where to start?

“So you’re sick, huh?” he asked.

He had read it.

He had read it and he was here.

“You read it?” I asked, cursing at how hopeful and eager my voice sounded.

He laughed. Just a little. “Yeah,” he said casually. “My mom was going to call the newspaper and complain that they messed it up, but then I saw it and convinced her not to.” He looked at me quizzically.

I cleared my throat. “Well, if she still wants her newspaper, I think it’s in Carter’s car somewhere.”

His eyebrows went up. “He let you use his car?”

“He… doesn’t really know about that,” I said with a guilty laugh.

Luke smiled at me in response. It was a kind of nostalgic smile. A happy nostalgic smile. “I missed you,” he said.

I looked at my feet and felt my cheeks get warmer. “I’m really glad you’re here right now. I wasn’t sure if you would ever want to talk to me again.”

“Of course I would, Caroline. I was just mad and… stuff. Stupid. I should have listened to you.”

I beamed at him. This was progress! This was finally happening!

“You know,” he said. “You don’t look very sick.”

I laughed. “It was mostly just mental issues. Take note of all the cookies.”

He looked at the counter behind me, filled with stacks upon stacks of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap and tied with ribbons. I watched him carefully, and his eyes actually lit up with amusement. He let out a small laugh and walked over to the cookies. He took one from the cat-shaped cookie jar and inspected it. “I see you’ve switched to M&M.”

“Carter got sick of plain chocolate chip.”

Luke took a bite of the cookie. I still couldn’t believe he was here. In front of me. Eating my cookie.

“Close your eyes,” I told him.

He gave me a weird look.

“What?” I asked. “It tastes better that way.”

He rolled his eyes before closing them and eating the rest of the cookie. I stepped closer to him, examining every inch of his face. What if I would never be this close to Luke again? I couldn’t mess it up. Not this time.

“My sister is right,” he said as he opened his eyes. “Your cookies are the best.” But the slight smile dropped from his face when his eyes found mine, at the serious I was surely giving him.

“Luke,” I said quietly. “I’m really sorry.” I lowered my eyes to look at my hands. “This whole thing has gotten so out of control. I never meant for any of it to happen.”

He waited for me to continue.

“That day, when you came over, I was just upset about the whole newspaper contest. I didn’t have some diabolical plot to use you to get back at Carter. It just happened.” I played with my hands, afraid to look at him.

“But Caroline,” he said slowly. “How could you do that?” He sounded kind of mad, but mostly hurt.

“I didn’t! I mean, I did. But… I don’t know. Things got so messed up, I don’t know where the revenge stopped and… other things started.

My cheeks filled with warmth, but I finally looked at him. His eyebrows were drawn together and he was looking at me like nothing else existed—like I was the entire world. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad quite yet.

“I was going to… use you to get revenge. I was. But then I realized that I couldn’t do that to you.” I sighed. “But by that time I guess I had already set it in motion. And then Carter came in and it all turned into a big misunderstanding and you left before I could say anything.” I paused for a breath. “I really am sorry, you know.”

“Wait,” he said. “You weren’t trying to get revenge?” He kept his face carefully blank.

“I was, but then I wasn’t,” I said. There really wasn’t just a yes or no answer to the question.

I tried not to feel too hopeful, with him standing in front of me, listening to what I had to say. Not scoffing at some “shitty excuses.” But I couldn’t help it. My heart lurched in my chest at the mere thought of him in my kitchen. I tried to quell the butterflies in my stomach, but the damn things were unstoppable, running rampant through my veins and all the way down to my toes.

I looked at him, and as soon as I saw the smirk spreading across his face, the butterflies let loose and I was tingly all over. I felt a smile spread across my own face, so big it would probably never fully go away. It was ridiculous, really—but I couldn’t help it.

“Why didn’t you say that earlier, you idiot?”

I shoved him lightly. “I tried!” I said in my defense. “Several times, actually. But it didn’t work out too well.”

“Yeah,” he said playfully. “You really need to work on your apologies.”

“I’ll try,” I said in the same tone. “And you need to work on your listening skills.”

“My listening skills?” he asked, pretending to be outraged. “I’m a great listener!”

“Only when it’s easy!” I said.

He gave me a look.

“You know I’m right.”

He just laughed. I felt like rejoicing. I felt like I could do anything. Anything in the world was possible at that moment. We were past it! It was all behind us now. One day we would look back at it and laugh about how stupid we were. I smiled. There was nothing standing between us now. There was nothing in the way.

I stepped forward and rested my hands on Luke’s chest, feeling the soft fabric beneath my fingers. He smelled like his laundry detergent and general boy yumminess. I looked up at him, hopeful. “So…” But before I could even start that sentence, Luke backed up a step, an odd look on his face. My hands fell to my sides.

He gave me a sad excuse for a grin as he held his hand out to me. “Friends?”

I looked at his hand, wondering what he wanted me to do with it. Then I realized. What he was doing.

Oh. Oh.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and reached out to shake his hand. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Friends.”

Just friends.