Rom-Com Collection

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THEY WERE FINALLY ABLE to leave a decade or so later (after Jeremy had kissed Faith robustly on each cheek and hugged her. Levi was seriously considering punching him). Faith, though, had been a little...wan.

The full moon turned the landscape blue and white, casting wide shadows of the house, the trees. “Thanks for asking me to come tonight,” Levi said, holding the car door for her.

“Oh, sure,” she said. “You’re welcome. Sorry if it was...a lot.”

“It was nice,” he lied. “Did you have fun?”

“You bet.”

Seemed he wasn’t the only liar in the car. She was quiet on the short drive home, quiet as they went into the Opera House, quiet as she unlocked her door. “Do you want to come in?” she asked.

He leaned against the door frame, frowning. “Is everything okay, Faith?”

“Sure. Of course it is.” Her eyes didn’t meet his.

“Seems like something’s the matter.”

“Nope.”

Something was very much the matter. “You feel okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Have you been taking your meds?” he asked.

“Yes. Want to count them and make sure?” Her voice was sharp.

“No.” He looked at her another minute, ignoring Blue, who was nosing his leg for a little lovin’. “Maybe I should stay at my place tonight,” Levi said.

“Okay. Thanks for coming tonight. Um...sleep well.” She kissed him on the cheek and closed the door.

Well, shit. He’d screwed up somehow. Maybe he hadn’t talked enough. Maybe...he hated this next thought...maybe Jeremy was on her mind. Obviously, Jeremy wasn’t exactly a rival, but he was still her buddy, still completely at home with her family, still here if she wanted to fall asleep on his couch. Love at first sight, love of her life. You only get one of those, according to John Holland.

He went into his own apartment, which suddenly seemed very bland. Sure, he had his own family photos here and there. But he didn’t collect little treasures the way Faith did, didn’t keep too much from the past. He was a guy, after all.

A guy who was in trouble with the woman across the hall for reasons unclear to him. She’d pried some information out of him the other day up at the barn, had seemed intent on digging, and now she kinda wasn’t talking to him.

Time to bake cookies.

When Levi was little, most of their desserts had come from a Hostess box, especially after Sarah arrived on the scene. But his mother had this one recipe, and she could whip a batch together in seconds, it had seemed. Levi’s job had been to put the ingredients on the table, then stand back and watch, and maybe lick off the rubber spatula.

He took out the flour, the squares of unsweetened chocolate, sugar, vanilla. Eggs from the fridge.

A knock came on the door. He answered it, and there she was. “Hey,” he said.

“What do you know about my mom’s accident?” she asked.

He blinked. “Uh...you want to come in, Faith?” She did. “Sit down,” he said, and she obeyed, perching stiffly in the middle of the couch cushion, like she’d forgotten what a couch was for. He sat down in the chair opposite from her and leaned forward.

She didn’t look right.

“So did you ever hear anything about it?” she asked.

“Sure. The guidance counselor talked to us.”

“What did you hear?”

“Uh...he said you guys were T-boned, and your mom died right away.”

“Is that all?” Her eyes were bleak.

Levi ran a hand through his hair. “You had a seizure, right? You didn’t remember anything. The fire department had to cut you out. We weren’t supposed to bring it up.”

She nodded. Kept nodding. Hadn’t really looked at him since she came in.

“Faith, are you okay? You don’t seem—”

“I didn’t have a seizure. I lied about that. I told my father I did because I didn’t want to tell him the truth.”

The oven ticked as it preheated. “And what was that?” Levi asked.

“I made her crash.”

Those four words seemed to be torn out of the deepest part of her. Her face didn’t change, but her eyes were desolate.

“How’d you do that?” he asked as gently as he knew how.

“I was mad,” she said. “I didn’t want to talk to her, and she turned around, because I was sitting in the back. She asked me if I was okay, and I didn’t answer.” Faith swallowed. “She thought I was about to have a seizure, because I space out before one, as you know. So I let her think that. And then we got hit.” Her face was white, her bloodless hands knotted hard in her lap.

“Faith, you can’t—”

“She wanted to leave my father.”

Ah, shit. “She told you that?”

“Yes.”

That wasn’t how Levi remembered Constance Holland from the few times he’d seen her. She’d seemed to be the Disney Channel’s version of a mom—pretty, happy, wisecracking and capable.

Or maybe he was confusing her with his mom.

“That’s why I didn’t answer her.” Faith’s voice was hollow. “She kept talking about how it’d been a mistake to get married so young, how she always wanted to do more but got stuck with us. I let her think I was about to have a seizure so she’d stop talking. And then we got hit.”

The look on her face was like an iron spike going through his heart. “Faith, you were a kid. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I knew what I was doing. I wanted her to feel guilty.”