"Natalia and Betty have nothing to do with you. Nothing to do with me. You are what matters to me."
"Right," I say through gritted teeth, realizing once again that I am forever in his friend zone.
Noah, seeming satisfied with the answer, lets his shoulders fall. "Look, Lucy. We can still go have a good night. We can go get some ramen and go to that arcade you like. We can play Tetris — I’ve got a pocket full of quarters with your name on ‘em.”
I shake my head. "No, I honestly do have to study. And not with Hammy, by myself. Okay? Tomorrow is Halloween and we’ll have a great time. Jake always throws a good party. And you're home,” I say, taking his hand and squeezing it. "So I don't want to fight with you, I want to enjoy this. Okay?"
"Okay," he says. He gives me a hug and I breathe him in. He smells like Old Spice, which I always tease him about. He smells like a grandpa, but the best kind. A strong and handsome grandpa with stubble on his jaw and biceps so large, they wrap around me and hold on tight like they won't ever let me go. I close my eyes, breathing him in, letting this moment settle over me, wishing we could rewind the clock and go back in time.
I would pick his house on my 13th birthday when I was so mad at my body for giving me breasts and at my hips for growing curvy and at my emotions for wobbling up and down. Like they are right now. I started crying in front of Noah in the middle of watching The Goonies and I was mortified, but he wasn't. He simply took my hand and held it, even through the scary parts, and eventually I calmed down. He told me no matter how I changed, he'd always be my best friend. I believed him.
And now, when he pulls apart from our hug and his eyes meet mine, he repeats the line. "No matter what changes, you'll always be my best friend."
I walk away wanting to believe his words are a promise, not an omen.
When I get home, I'm emotionally exhausted. I pass the jack-o-lanterns on the porch, grinning up at me, and inside, the house smells like fresh baked bread. And there is a big stock pot on the stove. Aunt Marlene is at the sink, and I give her a kiss on the cheek, leaning toward the pot to see what she's been cooking. "That smells incredible," I say.
"It's stew,” she says, "and fresh bread."
"Sounds perfect," I say. But then I glance in the sink and see two dirty bowls and plates. “Oh, did you already eat?”
Her cheeks flush, and she waves me off. “I just finished.”
“But you had company?” I grab a clean ladle from a drawer, and she pulls out a bowl for my stew.
“Oh, it was just a friend,” she says, waving the question off, and turning to the stove. Then, as if remembering something, she turns to me. “Wait, why are you here? I thought you and Noah were going to get dinner?"
I wave it off, carrying my bowl to the table as she grabs the basket of bread. "I wasn't up for it. I'm tired. I've been exhausted from school this week."
"I don't doubt it, sweetheart. You know, you don't have to have a four-point-oh grade point average to get a job after nursing school."
"I know," I say, "but I want to do my best."
She squeezes my hand and passes me a napkin. "I'm proud of you," she tells me. “Now tell me what you and Noah decided on."
I swallow, realizing there is no way in hell I can tell my aunt who has taken care of me since I was eight years old that I'm dressing up as a sexy nurse for Halloween. That I'm going to walk out of this house in a pair of thigh-high stockings and a plunging neckline. It's just ridiculous. It's not that my aunt's a prude, but I mean... Okay, she's a bit of a prude. I’ve never seen her go on a date once.
“Um, we actually didn't decide on anything," I lie, grateful I’d shoved my shopping bag under my sweater when I walked into the house.
“But Lucy,” she says. "Halloween's tomorrow. Did you guys get in a fight or something?"
"Why would you say that?"
My aunt shrugs. "I don't know. But you just look upset, and I know after last Halloween, with Noah gone, you've been really looking forward to this one."
"It's just Halloween," I say. "Maybe it's time I..." I swallow. "Maybe it's time I grew up."
"Well, you can still be a grown-up and have matching costumes with your best friend for Halloween," she says. "It's allowed."
I press my lips together. "Maybe, but you know how I've never dated anyone?" I say to her, spreading my hands across the tablecloth.
She smiles slowly. "Yes, I'm aware."
"I was just thinking maybe it's time I did date someone, like actually find myself a boyfriend."
"I thought maybe you were dating Charlie Ham," my aunt says. She knows everyone. She works at the grocery store downtown and seems to always know the gossip just like Betty, who works at the coffee shop. But she got this tidbit wrong.
"I'm not dating Charlie. He's my friend, and he's a nice guy. I don't know why everyone is so opinionated about him.”
"It's not that there’s something wrong with him,” my aunt says. "It's just, he's a little... I just don't think he'd get your sense of humor."
"My sense of humor?"
My aunt smiles. "You have a skull on your sweater, darling."
I look down at my chest. My heart feels extra dark right now, bleak, dead.
The idea of Noah not wanting me breaks my heart. I've been waiting for our chance for so long. The idea of it not happening feels like I've lost something I never had.
After eating quickly, I excuse myself from the table, not wanting to get into it with my aunt. Once in my bedroom, I shove the nurse costume in my drawer. What was I thinking? There's no way in hell I'm wearing it tomorrow. I'll find something else, something more us… but first, I'll read the list.
The truth is, maybe we are always going to be friends, nothing more.
I pull out the piece of paper, lying down on my bed to read it, clutching a pillow against my chest, holding onto it as if for dear life.
The checklist is more terrifying than I ever imagined.
One, it's a real, physical checklist, not some idea of a list in his head.
That's what I always thought, that it was just some silly thing he would mention when asked about his dream girl or why he was so picky, dating one person and then the next, never settling down. He'd always laugh it off and say, "Hmm, she didn't fit my checklist," or, "She didn't check all the boxes," or, "My checklist is pretty long, and she..." Fill in the blank, but I didn't actually think it was a real list, and now that I'm holding it, I'm scared to read it to see what the list contains because if all those girls, Natalia and Tabitha and Betty, et cetera, weren't enough for Noah, who would be?
Swallowing, I decide to plunge right in because I need to know. I need to know if it's time for the dream to die.
But as I start to read his tiny letters, I press a hand to my mouth, tears filling my eyes. I was terrified to see what he'd written, but now, I'm overwhelmed.
Because as I read this list, I realize one thing and one thing only.
Those boxes he's been trying to check, if you put them all together, they add up to me.