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Chris closes her locker and decides this is it. Enough of the procrastination and talking herself out of it. Today is the day she breaks up with Knox Overstreet.
Oh god, she can't do it.
"Chris!" She spins around to find herself nose to nose with her best friend. Ginny has never really had a sense of personal space when it came to friends. She was also soaking wet.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" Chris asks as Ginny shakes her hair out all over the floor and any few unfortunate passerby (including Chris, who instinctively shields the books in her arms).
"I forgot my umbrella at home," she explains, taking her jacket off and wringing out one sleeve. Outside the rain is still pouring, just like it has been since Chris woke up an hour ago to get ready for school. Despite the fact that outside is a downpour, there are still relatively few people in the hallway this early. Students who usually loiter around in the parking lot are running for cover under trees and convenient overhangs, still unwilling to step foot in the building for any longer than necessary to graduate. Normally Chris would be right there with them sitting on the steps of the band room door with Ginny and Stephen, but the rain and her own thoughts have driven her inside in equal measure.
She comes back again when Ginny waves a hand in front of her face.
"Hey," she says cautiously, "you okay?" She's already put away her own things in her locker next door and has been staring curiously at Chris for a while, Chris would assume.
Chris shakes her head dismissively. She has to stop spacing out like that. "I'm fine," she assures, but Ginny doesn't quite buy it.
"Right, right," she says. Closing her own locker and leaning a shoulder against it, she fixes Chris with the knowing stare that always gets her to break. "And I'm sure it's just the calc test later that's got you so preoccupied."
"Wait, what calc test?" Chris pulls her planner out from the middle of her pile of books, not noticing when Ginny takes the rest of the precipitous stack as she flips through the pages to find the right date. There it is, April tenth, second period calc final. Spring break starts next week and oh, she's gonna ruin his vacation, isn't she?
"Earth to Chris!" Ginny hands her back the stack of books and pulls her closer to the bay of lockers before a freshman hurtling down the hallway can knock her down. Suddenly it seems like the building is completely full, people chattering over folding umbrellas and shaken out raincoats. The floor is slippery as Ginny takes her arm and steers them towards their first class of the day. A couple of near misses with the jocks that lurk around corners leave Ginny a little shaken, but Chris doesn't seem to notice anything as she lets herself be dragged along; she is still reeling with the knowledge that planning to break up with her boyfriend had distracted her from her second-to-last final of the hardest class she's ever taken. The whole point of them breaking up is so she can go to college and have a fresh start, and she's already jeopardizing that over a boy.
"Don't worry," Ginny says as they head to their seats in the middle of the classroom, "you'll pass. You're pretty much the smartest person I know."
"Nice to see you too," Stephen says without looking up from his book. He doesn't see Ginny stick her tongue out as she drops her backpack on her desk, but he instinctively flips her off anyway.
Chris uses the distraction to both take a breath and check to see if Knox is in the room yet. Thankfully his desk sits empty in the front corner, although Neil, who he usually gives a ride to school, is there.
When he sees her looking, Neil gestures to Todd to hold his thought and climbs around the few other students to sit on the desk in front of her, wet shoes hanging conscientiously off to the side.
"Hey, have you seen Knox?" He asks. His hair is wet but drying, sticking up a little but drooping over his forehead in places.
"No," she says, "not since his good morning text."
Neil smiles a little and tries to brush the hair out of his eyes, which only serves to make it stand straight up. He doesn't seem to notice, though. "He texted me earlier to say he couldn't drive me in, but he didn't say why. I figured he was with you."
Chris shakes her head, a little concerned. She glances at the clock to see there are only a few minutes left before class starts.
When she doesn't say anything more, Neil just shrugs and slides off the desk in time for Charlie to throw themself dramatically into it. They lean over to talk at Stephen about something and Chris turns to her calculus notebook, figuring some last minute studying wouldn't hurt. She can practically feel Ginny rolling her eyes in the seat over, but soon the derivatives and equations take up all her attention. It's a welcome reprieve as the rest of the room fills up, Mr. Keating and the rest of the students filtering in.
Knox is absent until the last bell rings. Just as Chris is packing up her math notes and Keating is moving to the board, Knox bursts through the half closed door soaking wet.
"Mr. Overstreet," Keating greets him, "glad you could join us. Thank you for bringing the entire harbor with you."
Knox sheepishly looks down at his feet and the quickly growing puddle around them.
"Try not to drown your classmates," Keating says as he turns back to writing on the board.
Knox takes a step and winces as there is an audible squish from his sneakers. He looks like a drowned puppy and Chris immediately starts to rethink her decision. He shuffles forward a foot or so, consciously not lifting his feet, and taps Keating on the shoulder before leaning in to whisper something.
When Keating nods, laughing a little, Knox leans down and unties his shoes. Charlie laughs out loud, but immediately stops when Stephen glares and hits them with his book. Knox plods over to his desk, looking miserable, and lays his shoes and jacket over the old radiator under the window nearest his desk.
Keating begins rambling about the Harlem Renaissance to divert the attention of the class before the snickering gets too audible, but those close enough lean in to hear Knox's explanation of why he's left a river across the classroom.
"When I woke up this morning, it was already raining," he begins. "I had to drain a bunch of water out of my car's engine, cuz I didn't park in the garage last night. It took forever and I already knew I was gonna be too late to pick up Neil and still get here on time, so I texted him that I wasn't gonna be there. You got here alright though?"
Neil, who had taken Knox's wet notebook and was unsticking the pages from each other, looks up from his work. "Yeah, I'm good," he says, touched. "Todd's brother is in town and he gave us both a ride. What happened to you, though, what's with the drowned rat look?"
Knox wipes a few drops of water off his desk and says, "I got halfway here before the car broke down, I guess I didn't get all the water out or something. I wasn't that far, so I thought I'd trudge through. Turns out, not such a good idea. Don't worry about me thought, guys. Neil, I'm glad you got here alright. At least one of us is dry."
There's a shuffle of paper as the rest of the class opens their textbooks, and Knox's audience hurries to follow suit. Keating gestures not-so-subtly at the page number on the board and as they all start searching for the right poem, Charlie pats Knox on the shoulder, grimacing when their hand pulls away wet and a little muddy.
Chris cracks open her textbook and lets her eyes gloss over the words on the page, reading but not comprehending. Last night when she was up so late planning, she was so determined, so certain she was doing what she had to do and what was the right thing for both of them. But now, seeing him all bedraggled and still so self- sacrificing, reminds her of why they got together in the first place.
Rationally she knows all her reasons from earlier still stand—he romanticizes everything, including her; she internalizes her frustrations to spare other people's feelings; they're going separate ways after high school anyways. The list sits ingrained in her mind like it has for the past few days, but it's like a mirror being fogged over by all their good memories—dates at the diner, the time they were stranded at the movies during a blizzard, Charlie's Halloween party last year, rehearsing for Neil's shitty musical. For every reason she has to break up, there are half a dozen memories there to counteract it.
"Compared to Eliot's portrayal of the month in 'The Burial of the Dead'," Keating says, interrupting her thoughts as he starts pacing the room and gesturing randomly, "Grimké's April is overjoyed."
Knox looks over his shoulder to follow Keating's conducting and notices the look on her face. When he reaches over and puts a hand on her laying limp on her desk, she manages not to flinch. The doodles in her notebook soon turn into lists, and she tries not to feel guilty.
•••
At least some of her worrying was for naught, Chris thinks to herself as she leaves her calculus final feeling more buoyant than anyone ever has reason to.
Ginny informs her of this when they next see each other, meeting up in the library for lunch. "I'm serious, it's weird," she says, leaning over the makeshift table of their backpacks. Normally they would be at the table in the lunchroom with the rest of their friends, but Ginny was panicking about their AP Gov final that afternoon and Chris had jumped at the chance to not be in the same room as Knox.
When she remembers why she was so quick to leave, Chris immediately deflates.
"Anyway," Ginny continues as she starts wrestling with a bag of chips, "I'm glad to see you're feeling better. You've been weird all day—all week, really." She finally frees her chips from their plastic prison, the sound of a few flying out lost under her small triumphant cry.
When Chris doesn't respond, Ginny offers her one. "What's wrong?" She asks.
Chris sighs and eats the chip. "It's Knox."
"That whole thing in the rain?" Ginny eats a handful of chips, keeping her hand in front of her mouth to prevent any crumbs escaping. "I know. When's he gonna stop trying to be a hero all the time?"
"It's not that," Chris says, although it is kind of that. The corner of her notebook is curling—it must have gotten wet even under her umbrella—and she fiddles with it a little.
Ginny's chewing slows a little. "What's wrong?" She repeats, slower, more concerned. "Is it like with Chet-?"
"No, no," Chris interrupts, "no, not like that. Trust me, I learned my lesson there."
"Good," Ginny goes back to her chips, "because my brother's an asshole."
At that, Chris laughs. "You don't have to tell me that," she replies. "But no, that's not it. Really it's the opposite."
"He's too nice and attentive?" Ginny asks as she brushes the salt from her fingers and reaches for her notes.
"As weird as it sounds... Yes," Chris says, sliding her notes across the carpet. "I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a total sweetheart, and I love him, but..."
"But it's over?" Ginny supplies. She still has one eyebrow raised jokingly, still eating the last of her chips, but the rest of her is completely serious.
"We were gonna have to break up sooner or later, we both knew that." Chris starts reading on the titles on the spines of the books above Ginny's head. "I guess it's just sooner."
"Have you talked to him yet?"
"No." Chris sighs and brushes the hair out of her eyes. "I was going to today, but..."
"Don't worry about ruining his day further or anything like that," Ginny interrupts. "This has been eating away at you for a while, I can tell."
"Yeah. I just feel so shitty about it. It's not that we're unhappy or anything."
"You must be on some level though, or else you wouldn't even be thinking about it."
"We just don't make sense!"
She finally cracks and the dam breaks loose.
"Like, in theory, we're the perfect couple. High school sweethearts, prom royalty material. But we don't actually have that much in common outside of our friends, and he's always reading into everything I say and never just listening, and we don't communicate and that's kind of my fault, I don't open up, but I just know he'd misconstrue it anyway, and he idealizes everything, even me, especially himself, it just doesn't work."
"Whoa there." Ginny catches one of Chris's flailing hands in her own. Chris didn't even know she was doing that. "You have to break up with him," she continues. "You can't keep this all inside, you have to at least talk to him."
A drop falls on Chris's notes, wrinkling the paper and smearing the side of a diagram about the judicial branch. Chris realizes belatedly that it's a tear, from her. She had no idea she had gotten so good at compartmentalizing her feelings.
"I had no idea you were this beat up about it," Ginny says.
"Neither did I," Chris replies. The rain is still pounding so hard that they barely hear the bell at the end of the period.
•••
After lunch, Chris has orchestra, mercifully empty of people from her drama-filled friend group (except Gerard, but he's a sweetheart). Spanish is safe too, and government passes without a hitch, if you don't count the hellish final.
The test doesn't take the entire class period, though, so by the end of the day, Chris finds herself sitting on top of a desk in the back, Charlie draped over the chair behind her, the rest of her friends scattered around. Knox is copying his chemistry assignment for over the break out of Gerard's textbook, his own still wet and ruined. Neil is trying to tell him they can just do it together one day, but Knox ignores him and quickly finishes, abandoning his backpack to stand next to Chris.
She doesn't see him coming, too preoccupied with her thoughts, and jumps when he puts his arm around her shoulder.
"Hey," Knox asks, turning to face her, "you okay?"
Chris sighs; this is her moment. "Can I talk to you?" She asks in lieu of answering.
Knox frowns a little, but before he can answer, the announcements click on to cancel practice for every sport under the watery sun. Where it had let up a little in the afternoon, the rain was back in full force, submerging every track and field in the process.
Shushing Charlie's plan to sail out in an upside down umbrella, Chris hears her cheerleading practice moved inside to the gym and twenty minutes later than usual. It feels like the universe has teed up the ball and now all she has to do is swing.
The bell rings and Chris turns back to Knox. "Can we talk now?"
Knox nods and says, "Sure. Todd's my ride home, but he's got yearbook now." He tilts his head back to where Todd and Neil are huddled over something and quietly laughing. Chris shuffles a little uncomfortably, Knox's arm suddenly inexplicably heavy around her shoulder. She abruptly shrugs it off and jumps off the desk, her foot knocking into one of the legs with an awkward muffled clang. Ignoring the questioning stares of the rest of the group, Chris leads the way out of the room and smiles at Ginny's passing thumbs up.
The school has emptied pretty quickly, kids running to their cars and buses to escape the pouring rain. Finding an empty hallway is easy and they end up near Chris's locker. Getting out her duffel bag of cheer stuff is only a momentary distraction, though, and when she closes her locker door, Knox and the upcoming conversation are right there on the other side waiting.
"What is this about?" Knox asks over the sound of rain being thrown at the window nearby. "Something's been bugging you all day, I can tell."
"Oh, I'm sure you can," she replies, and even as the words are leaving her mouth, she can see Knox's confused and indignant reaction in her mind. As the look actually shows up, Chris steamrolls ahead.
"Knox, you barely know me," she says. "We've been dating for almost a year and you don't even know who I am. Doesn't that upset you?"
"Chris, I love you, of course I know you."
"Yeah? What's my favorite movie? Favorite book? Knox, what's my cat's name?" She crosses her arms and waits for an answer but gets none. "It's Moonrise Kingdom, 'The Great Gatsby', and Socks."
"Stuff like that doesn't matter when I know the real you," Knox says.
Chris has nothing to say—she doesn't even know what the means—and only raises an eyebrow.
"When you're around other people, you- you put up this front." Chris goes to interrupt but Knox raises a hand as he continues, "Not that you're fake or anything, it's like you present yourself differently. But with me, when we're alone, it's like you're the real you; pure, unfiltered Chris." He puts a hand on her shoulder, gently, and she lets him, but there's something off about what he said that she can't quite put her finger on.
"I may not know every facet of your personality," he continues, "but I know your soul. Isn't that more important?" Knox starts to smile at her, not noticing the distantly confused look on her face. "And you have such a beautiful soul, Chris."
"That is such... bullshit." Chris gently takes his hand off her shoulder and takes half a step back. "What are you- I mean, what?"
She drops her duffel, not realizing before how heavy it was with her shoes and crap, and stares at the grid marks on her hand from the acrylic straps.
"It's always like this with you," she continues. "You're always... romanticizing everything. Me, you, this relationship, high school, the fucking rain. It's not some biblical flood, Knox! It's warm air bringing in clouds from over the Atlantic!"
Coincidentally, a flash of lightning hits at the end of her sentence, but as the rolling thunder follows, they only stare at each other silently.
"We can't... be together, Knox." She can't look at him as she says it, because she knows if she does it'll be fog on the mirror again. "We never really knew each other, it could never work. You need to actually listen to what people say, not what you think they mean, and I need to tell people what I feel, and we just can't do that together. I'm sorry."
She truly is, but as she picks up her bag and leaves, she doesn't turn back. She imagines tears streaming down Knox's face, matching the rain on the window, silent until he falls to his knees and a sob rips through his body, masked by the pound of rain on the roof.
It's ridiculously dramatic, romanticized in a way that just goes to show how Knox has rubbed off on her, and she knows rationally that the reality is nowhere near as pretty, and yet... Knowing Knox, he probably is as close as he can be to that image.
She heads further into the school towards the gym, and the sound of the rain slowly rains.
•••
Stuck inside, cheer practice is nothing more than glorified yoga with more peppy platitudes, but Chris loves her girls and being surrounded by a close knit team helps take her mind off what happened in the hallway. By the time practice is over, her hair is sticking to her face and her yoga pants are stuck to the back of her thighs, but god, it feels good.
When she finds her way back to the front of the school an hour later, the sun is back and the pavement is already drying. Ginny is there, leaning against the passenger side of Chris's car and obviously trying to look more casually than she actually is. Her thick navy cardigan is a little damp and her hair is less poofy than usual, weighed down by the remaining water.
"Hey stranger," Chris calls out when she's within earshot, "where'd you wash up?"
"Am I supposed to laugh?" Ginny says it sarcastically, but her eyes ask another question.
"Yes," Chris answers both questions as she unlocks her car. Once they're both situated in their seats, she asks, "Seriously, did you come sweeping down the river or something?"
Ginny rolls her eyes and pulls her hands into her sleeves, momentary bravado gone now that she knows her friend is okay. "The rain let up a while ago," she says, "while you were still at practice. I took a walk as it was finishing up and ended up here, thought I'd wait for you."
Chris laughs and turns on the radio before pulling out of the parking lot. She hums and says, "You know, you're what my mom would call an 'odd duck'." Ginny scowls in response, which only serves to make Chris laugh harder. "I'm glad you're my friend," she adds.
Chris knows she smells like sweat. Her dad is going to make her clean out the gutters when she gets home. She just broke up with her serious boyfriend. But the rain is drying, and her best friend is making a face at her music choices, and Chris Noel knows everything is going to be just fine.