“What the hell is up with you and distractions?” Eden asks, throwing up her hands. She suddenly seems exasperated too, and now we are both yelling across the hallway at each other.
“Nothing.” I take a moment to inhale, to catch my breath, and then I try to stay calm, lowering my voice. This is stupid. I am wasting mytime standing here and discussing this with her. Honestly, I’membarrassed, and I just want to get away from Eden now. I can’t believe I thought there was even an ounce of hope that she would feel the same way as I do about that kiss. I’m trying to be honest for once, but it’s backfired completely and now I regret it. Keeping secrets is so much easier than this. “I’ve said what I’ve needed to say, you know what I think of you, you’ve made it clear you think differently, I’m done.” I stride past her, pulling at my hair, and I mutter, “Enjoy the fucking fireworks.”
I’ve humiliated myself, and now I just feel like a damn idiot. I can’t even look at her anymore. It’s going to be impossible to live in the same house with her over the summer, because we are inevitably going to be around each other. It’ll be unbearable from now on. SheknowsI’m attracted to her.
“Wait,” Eden says, and I immediately come to a halt as a new sense of hope fills me.Please, please tell me you didn’t regret it. I can’t turn around to look at her, but I am listening closely, begging for her to say something that is worth staying for. And seconds later, her husky voice fills the silence as she says, “You didn’t give me the chance to tell you that I find you interesting.”
35
Five Years Earlier
My friends are fighting to sign my cast at lunch on Monday when I return to school from the hospital. We’re in the cafeteria, huddled around our usual table, and a black Sharpie is being passed around as I hold my wrist out. Meghan is bent over my arm, her tongue out as she focuses on surrounding her name with black, squiggly flowers. I almost beg her not to because it’s sort of dumb, but I keep quiet and let her do her thing. Flowers are at least better than the self-portrait Rachael has attempted to draw.
“My turn,” Jake says, reaching over to pluck the Sharpie out of Meghan’s hand. He’s sitting cross-legged up on the table and he bends forward, grabbing my arm.
“Nothing stupid,” I warn him. Last time, he drew a pair of boobs, and Mom scribbled over it when I got home. The design of my cast ended up looking like crap after that, and this time, I want it to look pretty cool. It could be the last cast I ever wear.
It’s been three nights since Dad last laid a hand on me. He hasn’t hurt me since the moment he promised me he never would ever again. I’ve been watching him closely over the weekend, noticing the way henever comes too close to me and always thinks first before opening his mouth. He still expects me to work hard, which I do, and even when he got frustrated at me last night, he only walked away.
I think this is really it this time. I think the bad nights, the worst nights…I think they might be done for good. I think it might be over. Maybe this time, his apology really is the last. We can go back to the way we used to be, the way we should be, when he would help me out with my homework, when we would watch TV together, when we would play out in the backyard…when he would actually act like a real father who loves his son.
I feel hopeful. I feel almost…happy. Not entirely, but happier than I’ve felt in a while.
“There you go,” Jake says. There’s a mischievous smirk on his lips as he sits back. I glance down at my cast, and honestly, I have no idea what he’s even drawn. It looks like some sort of satanic devil, and underneath, he’s scrawled:Remember Jake is cooler than you. It’s not even surprising, and it’s not enough to ruin my good mood.
“Sweet,” I say, grinning back at him. His smirk falters, as though he’s disappointed I’m not throwing my lunch at him. I take the pen from him and offer it to Dean. “You wanna sign it?”
“Yeah,” Dean says. He shuffles in closer to me, takes the pen, then picks out an empty spot on my cast. As he writes, he asks, “How did you even break itagain?”
“You do know it’s Tyler you’re talking to, right?” Rachael cuts in, rolling her eyes at Dean. “Accident-prone.”
“Yeah, basically,” I agree with a laugh. Little do they know; I’m no longer going to be clumsy. No more bumps and bruises. No more excuses. No more lies.
Dean finishes signing my cast. He’s written his name and thenunderneath, he tells me to get better soon. No boobs or Satan. Dean is too nice for that. I glance around the table, and everyone has signed my cast except for one, and that’s the new girl, Tiffani. Although, she’s not really new anymore, and she’s been joining us at lunch for the past couple weeks.
She’s sitting at the end of the table, quietly watching the rest of us in silence, chewing her lip.
I look straight at her, hold up my wrist, and give her a small smile. “Can you sign it?”
“You want me to?” Tiffani asks, widening her eyes in surprise as though she hadn’t been expecting me to ask. I figure she considers us as her friends, so it would be rude not to.
“Yep.” I grab the pen from Dean and stretch across the table, offering it to her, and she takes it from me as she gets to her feet. She grabs her bag and walks around the table, then sits down on the corner of it as she reaches me. Her hair falls over her face as she scribbles her name, justTiffwith a small heart next to it. Then, she tosses the pen down onto the table, reaches into her bag, and pulls out a lipstick. We are all watching her in silence as she paints her lips a dark pink, then she gently reaches for my wrist with both hands and lifts my cast up. She kisses it, right above her name, her blue eyes looking back at me.
“Unique,” she says with a smile as she lowers my arm back down. “Like me.”
“Hey,” Jake calls out across the table. “I think my lips are broken. Do you wanna sign them too?”
36
Present Day
The sky outside explodes into colors of pink and blue, green and yellow. The fireworks have begun. In our silence, Eden and I turn to the large windows overlooking the football field, the crowds, the celebrations, the commotion. The colors light up the hallway, streaks of light flashing in our eyes, but I can’t focus on the display. No, I can only focus on Eden. Her hazel eyes, lit with red, glistening through the darkness. Did I really hear what she just said correctly?
“Interesting?” I say. The word sounds strange on my tongue. I’ve never considered myself interesting, and it definitely wasn’t what I was hoping to hear. My heart sinks. “That’s all you can say?”
“We’re missing the fireworks,” Eden pathetically mumbles. She can’t look at me. She only stares out of the window, watching the world carry on without us.
“I don’t care about the fireworks,” I snap. How can she even notice those? There are more important things going on right now, like figuring out what exactly she means when she said she found me interesting. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Interesting?” It’s such a letdown. I was desperate for something more.
