We Are Inevitable by Gayle Forman

We Are Inevitable by Gayle Forman

Author:Gayle Forman [Forman, Gayle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2021-06-02T00:00:00+00:00


Goldmine Record Album Price Guide

I get back to the store that afternoon to find Ira waiting for me, his slicker on.

“I have to talk to you,” I tell him. “Now.”

“I’m meeting Bev for support group.” He smiles. “My first one.”

“This is important.”

“So’s this,” he replies. “We can’t have me fainting all over town, now can we?”

“But . . .”

“It’ll keep.”

* * *

When Ira’s not back by six, I’m now on the verge of a panic attack myself. This morning I woke up feeling hopeful. I thought I’d found a way to make it work. Make Ira happy. And Chad. And the Lumberjacks.

I should’ve known better.

I lock up the store and go upstairs to make some pasta for dinner. I’m so distracted and distraught that when the phone rings, I pick it up without thinking.

“Aaron,” Mom says. “I’m so glad you answered.”

“Oh, hey, Mom. Ira’s out.”

“That’s okay. I called to talk to you.”

“Oh.”

A silence falls over the line.

“How’s the weather?” we both ask at the same time.

“Sunny and cold,” Mom answers.

“Rainy and cold,” I answer.

“Jinx,” Mom says.

“Haven’t we had enough of those?” I say.

The line goes silent again.

“What’d you want to talk to me about?”

“I was thinking maybe you might want to come for a visit,” she begins in a halting voice. “Silver’s not that far from you. You could drive.”

“Maybe in a few months,” I say. “Things are really busy right now.”

“Of course, my love.” I can tell she’s trying to hide her disappointment and it makes me feel like shit. “Your father mentioned you’re having some work done on the store.”

Knowing the work is for naught, I hear Penny say.

What have I done? Now, not only am I going to let Ira down, but Ike and the guys too. Chad was right. I’m the biggest coward.

“Did you say something?” Mom asks.

“Uh, just muttering to myself.”

“Something bothering you?”

“Just money stuff.”

She chuckles. “Money problems are just math problems.”

“Insanely hard math problems,” I reply. “Like calculus level.”

“You boil down your priorities,” she says. “The rest sorts itself out.”

In my experience, nothing sorts itself out, and at first, I write this off as Mom New Age gobbledygook. But then I think about what she said. Priorities. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s not calculus level at all. Maybe it’s basic arithmetic: Betraying Sandy < Saving Ira.

Suddenly, I know how to dig myself out of my hole. Dig Ira out of his. The truth is, I’ve known it all along.

“Thanks, Mom. That was helpful.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, but now I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay.” The hurt in her voice bleeds across the miles.

“I’m sorry. It’s important. Can I call you back later?”

There’s another heavy pause on the line because Mom knows I won’t call her back, even if she doesn’t know why. “Anytime, my love.”

After I hang up with Mom I immediately call the Corporate Health Food Emporium. It takes twenty minutes of bad hold music, three transfers, and two minor lies to get the name and number of Lou, the guy who I saw selling records there.

I get his voicemail.



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