Chapters (19)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Part One Makayla—November
- Part Two Evann—November
- Part Three Jesse—November
- Part Four Makayla—December
- Part Five Evann—December
- Part Six Jesse—December
- Part Seven Makayla—January
- Part Eight Evann—January
- Part Nine Jesse—January
- Part Ten Makayla—March
- Part Eleven Evann—April
- Part Twelve Jesse—May
- Part Thirteen Makayla—May
- Part Fourteen Evann—May
- Part Fifteen Jesse—May
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
Tina goes to this chou little spa that I really do enjoy when I’m up for enjoying anything, which lately hasn’t been often. But I wanted to enjoy it, so I put on some decent clothes and got in her little classic Italian car that my dad bought her for their last anniversary, and off we went to this spa where everything’s green plants, pale green and white colors, and vague fruit and flower scents. There are these little women who work there from all over the world. They all seem so tiny and perfect and beautiful, even though they’re all doing pretty disgusting jobs like digging around people’s toenails all day. I guess you have to do something for a living.
While these women were buffing and paring and painting our nails, we started to talk. Tina isn’t one for very deep conversation, so it started off shallow. I mean really shallow. She spent about fifteen minutes talking to me about her new sweater. It’s a pretty sweater, almost the same pale green as the spa walls, and so soft. But it’s a sweater, and I didn’t care to talk about it for that long.
“Can we change the subject?” I said.
Maybe I said it a bit too crossly because Tina looked hurt for a second. Then she moved on to her shoes, which were placed neatly on a mat near the door.
“Tina,” I said, finally. “What are you passionate about?” I’ve found from the many parties I’ve been to where people are giant bores that the best way to get out of a horrible conversation is to ask something that makes the other person feel very awkward.
“Well, I . . .” she began. “I should say I . . .”
“I mean really passionate about?” I pushed further. “Like, don’t say your car or your shoes. Something that really moves you.”
Tina shifted in her chair like she was uncomfortable. I felt pretty satisfied that she would shut up, so it really surprised me when she said, “You know, I’ve always been interested in weather patterns. Don’t ask me why.” She giggled self-consciously. “Don’t tell your father! He would think I’m crazy.”
I paused. Tina had an interest that wasn’t shopping or looking good?
“What is it about weather patterns that interests you?”