April, 1986
Michael looked away from the precalculus homework he had propped against the steering wheel and checked his watch. 3:46. She was sixteen minutes late. He was used to waiting for a long time for Lindsay to meet him in the car after school, but this was getting ridiculous.
Two minutes later he heard the car door open and looked up. He felt an uncomfortable jolt when he saw her. Over two months had passed since the surgery, but it was still a shock every now and then to look at her and see a face so different from the one he'd grown up with. It wasn't that she looked bad—she looked a lot better now actually—but it was unsettling. He knew it didn't matter, but he didn't like the thought that she would never look the same again.
"Eighteen minutes late," he said. She didn't say anything as she sat down and slammed the door shut. "Something wrong?" he asked.
"No," she snapped.
"Alright," he said, starting the car and backing out of the parking space. They sat in silence for a long time.
"Andrew and I broke up," she said suddenly.
"Really?"
"Yeah," she said, annoyed.
"Are you okay?" he asked, realizing he may have sounded a little too happy about this news.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Good," he said, though she didn't seem fine. "He wasn't worth your time anyway," he added. She didn't say anything. He stopped at a red light and looked over at her. She was looking out the window, her head resting on her hand. He couldn't see her eyes through the Wayfarer sunglasses she'd begged their father to buy for her. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I told you I was," she snapped. She looked back out the window. "I just wish I knew why," she said suddenly. "It was totally out of the blue. I mean, he's been kind of distant lately but I had no idea he wanted to break up. I just don't know why." Her voice broke on the last word. She took off her sunglasses and wiped her eyes, smudging her blue mascara.
"Well, what did he say?"
"He just said, 'I think we should break up.'"
"That's it?"
"Yeah, just like that. And some bullshit about it not being about me and how he just doesn't want to be in a relationship right now. After ten fucking months, that's all he said."
"Jesus," Michael said. "Sorry, Linds."
"And now I can't even go to the prom," she laughed bitterly. "I already bought my dress and everything."
"Well, you can wear it in a year," he pointed out.
"You're not helping."
"Sorry," he laughed.
She smiled. "It's okay."
Michael wondered if Andrew had broken up with her because of the steep fall in her popularity since she'd returned to school after the surgery. The many enemies she'd made over the years had been quick to seize the opportunity to make fun of her, and she'd quickly become known as the girl with the nose job.
"Well, he's an idiot, he didn't deserve you," Michael said. She laughed through her tears.
"You're just saying that 'cause I'm crying."
"No, I mean it. He was lucky to have you."
She looked over at him. "You really mean that?"
"Yeah, really," he said, smiling reassuringly.
"Thank you," she said quietly. She looked out the window and laughed. "Why can't all guys be like you?"
