DANI’S EPILOGUE April
“I’m going to get the mail,” I said as I walked into the kitchen, my eyes barely open.
“I was starting to think you were gonna sleep all damn day,” my grandpa said, stirring a pot of ramen noodles on the stove. “I’m already having lunch.”
“Only because you eat too early,” I replied, snagging a Red Bull from the fridge.
Although to be fair, it was almost one o’clock. Alec had come over last night and we’d watched TV until like two thirty (when Grandpa kicked him out), so sleeping in had been absolutely necessary.
“Grab all the mail,” my mom said. “Not just your stu.”
“Fine,” I said, setting down the drink. “But I’m not putting on shoes.”
“It’s a nice morning—you’ll be ne.”
The second I opened the door, I let out a huge sigh because, God—spring was nally here. The sun was shining and birds were chirping and my feet weren’t even cold as I walked down the driveway in my socks.
There was nothing like spring after a long, cold winter.
My phone buzzed, and when I pulled it out of my pocket, I saw it was a text from my dad.
Dad: Are we still on for FaceTime later?
I replied: Yep—14:00 my time, right?
Dad: Sounds good.
My dad and I, after everything blew up, kind of landed in a decent place. He was still the colonel most of the time, but he actually was trying. We had a standing FaceTime date, every Saturday at two p.m., and so far, he’d shown up every time.
And as of now he was planning on coming for my graduation.
Weird, right?
I opened the mailbox and grabbed the stack of letters, ignoring all of them as I ipped for what I really wanted, for the piece of mail I received every single
Saturday.
There it is.
I grinned as I looked at the picture on the vintage postcard; it was a snapshot
of Kriz’s Bakery circa 1981.
God, I love him.
I ipped it over, reading the coded message while wondering how I was so lucky.
Collins— Greetings, girl-whose-mouth-I-like-to-kiss.
1. This morning on the way to school, I almost rear- ended a Subaru because I was distracted by your legs—you’ve got nice knees, kid.
2. I don’t want to teach you to drive anymore—you suck—but I love you, so you can’t be mad.
Counting down the days until summer, Alec
I giggled—he was sonot getting out of our driving lessons, and I wondered if any of our neighbors ever looked out their windows and wondered what was up with the girl who laughed at the mailbox every Saturday.
I was walking back up the driveway when I saw it.
Harvard.
There was a large white envelope from Harvard, addressed to me.
Ohhhhhhhh.
They didn’t send big envelopes full of paperwork to students not getting accepted, right? I stared down at it as my stomach went all light and zzy, as I realized the nal answer was probably inside that very envelope.
I felt like I was going to puke as I held that thick packet in my hands, dying to rip it open but also too scared to dare.
“Hey, Danigirl?”
I tore my gaze from the Harvard mail to see my grandpa and my mom, both
standing on the porch.
“Yeah?”
“No one will be mad if you want to go open that big envelope with the Barczewski kid,” Grandpa Mick said, grinning.
They knew. They’d seen the envelope in the mailbox, but they’d left it for me
to grab.
“Thank you!”
“Just remember to breathe through your nose,” he added, making me love him even more since we’d both been working really hard—together—at being proactive with our… issues.
I shoved the other letters back in the mailbox, clutched Harvard to my chest, and started running down the sidewalk.
“You’re not gonna change rst?” my mom yelled.
“Or bring us the rest of the mail?” Grandpa Mick asked.
“Nah,” I yelled back, jogging.
“You look like a crazy person, kid!” my grandpa yelled, but I could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Takes one to know one!” I yelled back, only interested in getting to Alec.
I ran down the block, not caring that I was wearing my pajamas and hadn’t even looked in a mirror yet. I went as fast as my legs would carry me and didn’t stop until I was on the Barczewskis’ porch, maniacally ringing the doorbell.
“Danigirl!” Big John said when he opened the door. His smile grew a little when he looked at my pajamas and stockinged feet. “Wow. You’re a sight this afternoon, kid.”
“I know, I know,” I panted, holding my side, barely able to talk. “I need Alec.”
“Whoa,” Alec said, appearing behind his dad. His smile was big as his dark eyes crawled all over me. “What’s going on here, Collins?”
“Harvard,” I wheezed, holding up the envelope.
“Holy shit. Harvard,” he said with his eyebrows raised, coming out onto the porch. “Did you get it? Are you in?”
“Dunno,” I managed, shaking my head. “I didn’t want to open it without you.”
“Wait—did you run all the way here?” he asked, grinning and grabbing my hand, pulling me over to the big porch swing.
I heard John close the front door.
“Yes,” I said, still breathing hard. “Now, are we going to talk or open the
envelope?”
I settled onto the swing beside him.
“Calm down, you little shit,” he said, pulling me closer with his good arm even though his bad one was getting better every day. “Open it.”
“I think I need you to do it for me,” I said, shaking my head, suddenly so nervous. “I’m too scared.”
“Let’s do it together,” he said, taking the envelope and putting his ngers on one end, then placing mine on the other. “On the count of three.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile, because it just felt right, doing this with him.
“One,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.
“Two,” I said, shutting my eyes and hoping with everything I had.
“Hang on for a sec,” he interrupted.
“What?” I said with an exasperated giggle, because leave it to him to stop this progress. “Come on, Barczewski.”
“I just want to say that if for some reason you don’t get in, that’s bullshit and you’re meant for better—you know that, right?”
“Better than Harvard?” I said with a face.
“If Harvard doesn’t take you, then yes, absolutely there is way fucking better than Harvard.”
“Okay,” I said, and I actually meant it.
If I didn’t get in, I knew I’d be all right.
Because not only did I have Alec, but I felt like I’d nally found my place in the world. Southview, Cassie, Lillie, Liz, living with Grandpa Mick, meat raes
at the PNA… I belonged here.
Home.
If I didn’t get into Harvard, I’d be okay, because I had the support of home to make it all better.
“Can we move on to three now?” I asked impatiently, because I still really
wanted Harvard. “This is killing me.”
“After I kiss you,” he said.
“Dude,” I complained, “you know I love you, but I’m dying here.”
“Here’s the thing, though,” he said calmly with a nger raised, slowly and with zero sense of urgency. “This is either going to be our last kiss before you’re ocially a Harvard student, or our rst kiss in the new era where you’re trying to gure out which other school’s oer you’re going to accept. I feel like this warrants a moment.”
“Okay, now I have to kiss you,” I said, climbing on his lap, madly in love with this big hockey player who was ridiculously sentimental. “But make it fast.”
And, well… he didn’t.
And I was great with that.
