A girl named Mickey who lived across the hall and had come all the way from Dallas was immediately homesick, I could tell, so that first night, I invited her over. Over the next few hours, I had pretty much rounded up everyone at Haggett and there was an impromptu partay, what-what, downstairs on the main floor. I met so many people and answered a lot of questions when they found out I’d been there for almost an entire week.
“Wait, what did you say your name was?” a guy named Stephen asked.
“This is Jupiter,” Mickey introduced.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s it.” Stephen turned to another guy a few feet away and shouted, “Hey, Brad! Remember that dude who came up to us in the quad?”
“Yeah, astronomy guy?”
Stephen laughed. “Yeah, that one.” He pointed at me. “This is Jupiter!”
“Get the hell out, dude,” Brad said, leaving his conversation and sprinting over to us. “Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand. “So you’re Jupiter?”
“That’s me.”
“Know a tall guy named Ezra?”
My heart started to race. “Yeah, I know him.”
“Dude, he’s been looking for you for a few days.”
Oh my God.
“Who’s Ezra?” Mickey asked.
“Uh, he’s this guy I’m sort of seeing, maybe, I don’t know. We went to school together back home.”
“That explains it then,” Stephen commented. “Dude was on some crack about how he was looking for you and that the school couldn’t tell him where you were because there’s some privacy policy and you didn’t have a phone so he couldn’t get a hold of you, which we didn’t believe. We thought he was mental or something. Who doesn’t have a phone?”
I laughed. “Uh, it’s true. My phone was jacked by some insane hitchhiker we picked up on the way here.”
Both boys started laughing. “That’s crazy,” Brad said.
“The guy has been looking for you for days apparently,” Stephen commented. “He’s been asking everyone he sees if they know you.”
Brad leaned over and yelled toward a group of boys. “Guys! This is Jupiter!”
They all started cheering, “Jupiter!”
My throat felt hot. “Damn, I wonder where he’s staying.”
Brad shook his head. “He told us but I don’t remember.”
“Sorry, didn’t think I’d need to remember,” Stephen apologized.
“It’s cool. I’m sure we’ll bump into one another,” I said, aiming for casual.
Inside, though, I imagined I was Data with my accordion boxing glove and Ezra was the Fratellis.
“What’s your dorm number and I’ll give it to him if I see him,” Stephen offered.
“That’s cool,” I said, yanking a pen off a nearby pinboard and writing it on the top of his hand. “If you see him, tell him to call me no matter the time.”
“Got it,” he said.
I can’t wait to hear his excuses, I thought.
Mickey was a sweet girl, so I decided to be her friend. We agreed we’d go to orientation the next day together. At eight a.m. I shuffled out of my room and knocked on her door.
“Hey, Mickey! You’re so fine! You’re so fine you blow my mind!” I shouted through the door.
I was greeted by a sore-looking Mickey, which made me laugh. “Hardy har har,” she bit out.
“Oh, so you’ve heard that one before?” I snapped my fingers. “Dang, I thought it was so original too.”
She sighed but smiled and shut her door, locking it behind her. “So, uh, what do you think we’re going to be doing today?” she asked as we walked toward the elevators.
“Ritual sacrifice followed by an informal get-to-know-you, then a quick mandatory facial piercing, and a break for lunch.” Mickey’s eyes blew wide. I wrapped my arm around her neck. “Oh, Mick, we’re gonna be great friends, I can tell.”
When we reached the lobby, there was a group of at least twenty-five students getting ready to walk over to Edmundson Pavilion, and they invited us to walk with them. We all meandered through the quad and I tried not to frantically search the grounds for Ezra but failed. I’m an idiot. He wasn’t there. We hung a left on Spokane toward Edmundson and I began to get to know a few people I’d yet to meet the night before.
When we arrived, we found a huge open section that hadn’t filled in yet and filed in, scattering amongst five rows.
“Whoa,” Mickey breathed. “There are literally thousands of people here.”
“We’re ants on the anthill, Mick.”
“Yeah, but who’s the queen?” she asked, raising a brow.
Just then a literal blonde Barbie sauntered by and all the boys’ tongues started to wag. “My guess is her,” I said.
Mickey laughed. “It’s always the one with legs for miles.”
“Always,” I agreed. “But I know something Marie Antoinette over there doesn’t.”
“What’s that?” Mickey asked.
“I know how to incite a mean riot.”
“Let them eat cake,” she teased.
After half an hour of waiting around, a couple of important-looking people graced the court below us and began shuffling card tables full of paper, etc., then set up a podium with a microphone.
“Good morning,” an older gentleman announced to a room full of hormonal freshmen.
“Take it off!” someone yelled, making us all laugh. See?
“Okay, okay,” he huffed, “let’s all calm down.” He took a deep breath like he thought he didn’t make enough money to put up with what he put up with. “Welcome to the University of Washington!” he greeted with false cheer, making me snort. “I’m school administrator David Angleberg. We’re going to go over a few procedures and a few rules with you this morning,” he began before droning on and on about mess hall rules, what our student IDs were good for, yada yada yada.
“I’m a little overwhelmed,” Mickey admitted to me.
“We’re all overwhelmed. The cool part is we can all be overwhelmed together.”
Mickey nodded and smiled.
“Where do you think your Ezra is?” she asked.
My eyes followed row after row of students. “Dude, he could be anywhere.” The bastard.
“Let’s begin with campus behavior,” the school administrator droned on when we heard a loud rumbling come from the seats on the other side of the court.
“What’s going on?” Mickey asked.
We leaned forward a little to see what was going on.
“There’s some guy down there yelling,” Mickey observed.
“Where?”
“There,” she said, pointing down toward mid-court about ten rows up from the floor.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. “That’s Ezra.”
She leaned forward. “He’s yelling something at you.”
I studied his mouth and arm movements but couldn’t make out what he was saying. I shrugged my shoulders and lifted my hands. Ezra let his own fall in obvious frustration before turning around and gesturing wildly.
A chorus of “Jupiter!” erupted from the other side of the stands, followed by a “Can! We! Talk!”
“Excuse me, young man,” the school administrator admonished over the speakers, “sit down!”
My chest began to pant. “What do I do?” I asked Mickey.
“Answer him!” she urged.
I turned toward my section of the stadium and shouted, “Yes!”
They followed suit and yelled my answer back to Ezra.
“Everyone, sit down this instant!” a red-faced David Angleberg insisted.
“I! Can’t! Find! Your! Room!” Ezra’s side of the stadium shouted.
“Haggett! Six-oh-three!” I told my section, which they relayed back just as security went bounding toward Ezra.
They chased him through several rows and he dodged them with ease before he bolted up the stairs toward the exits but not before he relayed a last message.
“Jupiter!” the crowd shouted as E
zra crested the top of the stairs, turned around, stared at me, and placed his hand over his heart. “I missed you!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I rushed out of the orientation, Mickey promising to tell me if I missed anything important, and sprinted toward Haggett Hall. When I reached my room there was something on the floor at the foot of the door.
I crouched down. Wrapped in brown paper was Ezra’s reversible velvet-and-sherpa blanket. My hand went to my mouth. On top was a pair of blue-tinted sunglasses, almost identical to the one’s Penny Lane wore in Almost Famous. In between the blanket and the glasses was a note.
I picked it up, sat down with my back against the flat of the door, and read its contents.
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
- The Bard
I was a fool, Jupiter.
I am a fool, Jupiter.
Forgive my foolishness, Jupiter.
“I never expected you to find out,” I heard down the hall.
I looked up to see Ezra strolling toward me, both of his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish and adorable at the same time.
“How comforting,” I told him, not ready to forgive him so readily.
He stopped in front of me. “It’s not what you think.”
“So you didn’t bet Milo that you could sleep with me before he could?”
His face tinged pink. “In a way.”
I stood and picked up the blanket and card, the glasses sliding to the floor, and shoved them into his chest. “Take your bribe and leave then.”
“No,” he said with conviction.
“Go!” I told him, pushing him a little, but he didn’t budge.
“No,” he said again, softer. “Not until you hear what I have to say.”
I thought about Frankie and cursed her to the moon and back. “What happened?”
He looked surprised but didn’t argue. He set everything at our feet again and insecurely folded his hands around his triceps. “I’m embarrassed, but the truth is I just said it because I didn’t want Milo to get anywhere near you. The idea of Milo even laying a finger on you sent me into a jealous rage. I decided to match the bet so he wouldn’t succeed, but I never intended to sleep with you, I swear. I swear it, Jupiter. I just didn’t want him to take something from you that didn’t belong to him, and I planned on letting you down gently when we were on the road.”
I felt my eyes gloss over. “You never intended to stay with me?” I asked in disbelief. I stuck out the heel of my boot and watched the tip of my foot swing back and forth as if from very far away.
“No, I didn’t.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks. “All that stuff you said? The kissing? The conversations? They were a front to your plot? They were just distractions so I wouldn’t notice your cousin? What about what happened in that stadium back there?” I asked, throwing a hand the direction of Edmundson.
He ran his hands through his hair. The top flopped across his temple. He let his arms fall helplessly at his sides. “No,” he said with feeling. “The only lies I told were told to myself. I didn’t want to want you, Jupiter, because needing you like I do means a hard fall when you decide to leave. And you will leave. Girls leave me. They just do,” he admitted with utter vulnerability, making my heart sink for him.
“I thought if I could spend a little time with you,” he continued, “that I’d discover you are an illusion. But I was wrong. Then I thought if I could touch you, you wouldn’t feel like heaven. But I was wrong. Then I thought if I could kiss you, whatever I imagined you tasted like would prove false. But I was wrong. Then I thought if I could just keep you close but never fully entrenched in myself that I could fall in love with you without getting hurt. But I was wrong.”
“Are you in love with me?” I asked him.
“I think so,” he said truthfully, making my heart race. “I’m falling quickly.” He looked straight at me, a pained expression on his face. “I tend to do that,” he explained with a slow shrug.
I studied his right hand before pressing my palm to his. I decided I would wait and let him thread his fingers with mine. We sat for a long time, never making eye contact, but eventually he did.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked.
I nodded at his feet then my eyes met his. “You know, no matter what ends up happening between us,” I promised, “betrayal would never be a move I’d play.”
“I know,” he said, taking my keys from my hand and opening my door. He sat the blanket inside on my bed, made a comment about how my room rocked his socks, and dragged the sunglasses he bought me with him as he shut and locked the door again.
He stood looking at me briefly with that Ezra grin that made my skin tingle before slipping the glasses over my face.
“Come on, Jupiter Corey,” he said, dragging me toward the elevator.
“Are we going somewhere?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said as we stepped into the metal box, pressing the floor for the lobby. He brushed the back of his fingers across my cheeks as the doors shut.
“Where did you get the paper for that note?” I teased him.
He smiled at me. “What? Not up to Jupiter par, is it? You’ll have to excuse its state. It seems it got drenched when someone sprayed a water hose into my car.”
I pursed my lips. “Hmm, I bet that person had good reason, though.”
“Maybe,” he said with a sly grin, wrapping his hand around mine.
The doors opened and he led me out of Haggett Hall toward the housing parking lots. When I saw his GTO, I almost cried.
“She looks so good,” I said, dropping his hand when he opened the passenger side for me.
“She cleans up well,” he agreed.
Before sitting down, I asked, “Where are we going?”
“Get in the car, Jupiter.”
“Yeah, I will, but first where are we going?”
“To get you another phone.” He laughed. “I’m not shouting across stadiums every time I need to speak to you. Now get in the car, Jupiter.”
I smiled. “It was awfully romantic, though.”
“I think security is still looking for me,” he teased. “Get in the car.”
“Ezra?”
“Yes, Jupiter?”
“Before I get in the car—”
“Yes?”
“I missed you too.”
Epilogue
“You look nice, Kai,” I said as he straightened his tie.
“Please, woman, I am impeccable,” he teased. He smiled down at me. “You excited?”
“Uh, duh.”
“Eloquent as always, I see,” he prodded.
“Shut up, Kai.”
“Another one for the history books.”
“Go,” I ordered. “Now. Over there. With your wife. This instant before I tell her that I caught you pinching Mrs. Eisenberg’s tush.”
“She’s a hundred years old!” Kai complained.
“I know! Who knew you had such a geriatric fetish? You’re such a creep, Kai!”
Kai acted mock offended. “You’re no fun,” he whined. “Gaw, Jupiter.”
I watched Kai walk away and turned to find Ezra. I spotted him at the entrance of Fountainhead, the name of our new geriatric and pediatric day center. It was our launch day, our maiden voyage. He looked nervous.
“Dr. Brandon?” I called out.
Ezra turned toward me and smiled, holding his hand out for me. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“It’s been thirteen years of hard work, late nights, failures, successes, heartaches, and joys, so, yes, I’d say I’m ready.”
“What a ride,” he admitted.
“Indeed.”
“I have a surprise for you,” he told me, dragging me toward the automatic doors.
“We have a press conference in less than ten minutes,” I said.
“It won’t take long,” he said.
“Words every girl longs to hear.”
He bu
rst out laughing. “Please, you know I’d treat you better than that, Brandon.”
“That’s right,” I said, slapping him on the rear.
“Jupiter!” he complained, looking around.
“What?” I asked, playing innocent.
“Here,” he said, shoving me through his office door.
On his desk was a bottle of champagne and two flutes. He took the bottle in his hand and began unwrapping the cork.
“Before things get crazy, before we get too busy, before we’re both pulled a million directions, I need you to take a glass,” he said, popping the cork and pouring champagne into a flute.
He handed it to me and I took it, then he poured himself a glass.
“To you,” he said.
“No, to us.”
We clinked our glasses together and toasted to our incredible life. I drank then set my glass down and glanced at the corner of his office piled with moving boxes and bags.
“Oh my gato,” I said, picking up a bag and holding it up. “It’s your suitcase from our road trip.”
Ezra stepped closer and examined it. “So it is,” he said, nodding his head.
I stared at it, a few tears in my eyes. “So many memories ago, but it still feels like it was yesterday.” Something dawned on me then. “Remember outside that motel, when we were covered in burnt grass and black soot?”
“Yeah,” Ezra answered absently, moving around the room, looking for something.
“And remember when I tried to dig into your bag for something but you shot me down with a quickness?”
Ezra’s hands froze. “Uh, yeah,” he answered, but there was a hitch in his voice. Got him.
“What was in the bag, Ezra?”
Ezra stood and turned toward me, the biggest grin on his face. “I suppose ten years of marriage and three kids has guaranteed me a permanent fixture in your life.”
“Ah, you-a would-a be-a correct-a!”
“Every day after work the summer before college, I would watch Almost Famous just to watch Penny Lane and be reminded of you. I brought the movie with me. I knew if you saw it, you’d be onto me, and I couldn’t have that.”