Cassidy, it turned out, had spent her middle-school years really sick with a degenerative lung condition. Eventually, her lungs failed completely and she had needed a transplant. After the surgery, though, the Riveras decided to move somewherewith fresher air than polluted Boston. Any irritant to Cassidy’s fragile new lungs could damage them and turn fatal; even when healthy, she had to take anti-rejection meds for the rest of her life so her body wouldn’t attack the foreign organs.
Ash couldn’t imagine the courage it took for Cassidy to get through her disease and the transplant. But she apparently never let it get her down. According to the article, Cassidy threw herself back into running as soon as she was done with rehab. Her grandpa had been a member of the Chilean Olympic track team, and her mom was a cross-country coach, so Cassidy had no intention of stopping the family tradition.
It was enough to make fourteen-year-old Ash topple headfirst into a crush on the new girl next door.
And then, as the years passed and Ash learned more about her, he went from superficial infatuation to all-out, lost-beyond-repair, besotted fool.
Cassidy wasn’t the fastest, but she was captain of the Moon Ridge High cross-country team because everyone loved her. For every race she ran, she raised money for Donate Life America. And she was funny, often wearing wry tees and sweatshirts about her transplant, like the hoodie with a recycling logo andI’M MADE WITH RECYCLED PARTSon it. Ash’s favorite shirt was an outline of lungs, filled in like an iPhone battery indicator at 80 percent power—because Cassidy’s lungs functioned at 80 percent of a normal person’s (h/tMoon Ridge Gazette).
How could anyonenotfall madly in love with her?
Now, Cassidy began to pull her hair into a ponytail, and Ash found himself doing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to—staring. Her every movement was a revelation, from how graceful her arms moved to how deftly her fingers darted in and out of the hair tie. The breeze carried the faint scent of her sunscreen, and the final flick of her ponytail sent a rush of her floral shampoo in Ash’s direction. After all these years with a fence between them, this was the nearest he’d ever been to her. He closed his eyes and memorized her scent, imagining what it would look like if he were to render it in oil paints.
When he opened his eyes again, she was watching him, with a lilt of a smile on her face.
“You looked so peaceful,” she said. “Like you were meditating. Not like someone whose backyard was just destroyed. Or maybe that’s actuallywhyyou were meditating. I’m really sorry.”
Ash shook his head and shrugged, trying to convey without words that it was fine. That it was kind of a dream come true that she was here with him. Even if it was also a nightmare, because he was so completely at a loss as to what to do.
He pointed at the basketball hoop on the ground. “Help?” he managed to force out in a hoarse whisper.
“Oh god, yes, of course I’ll help,” Cassidy said. “Sorry!”
Ash cursed to himself. He’d meant to offer Cassidyhishelp, not the other way around.
This is why he’d never had a girlfriend.
He scrambled to lift up part of the basketball hoop. It was a miracle Cassidy had managed to knock this thing over. The big plastic base full of sand weighed a ton. Then again, Jordan hadsaid that they’d pivoted the hoop stand, which would explain how it had managed to fall sideways into the fence. The trampoline jump would’ve provided the momentum, and the pole and stand—well, it was an awful lot of mass.
Together, though, he and Cassidy hoisted it up. Then Ash pushed it back into the Riveras’ yard.
Wow. So that’s what it was like over here. A “sportopia.” Ash stood for a minute and took it all in, because this might be his only opportunity to see—rather than just listen to—how Cassidy lived.
Instead of lawn, the ground was covered in that bouncy sort of bright-blue, space-age tiling. There were white lines painted for a basketball half-court, but there was also a small soccer goal propped up on the other side. A long sand-filled trench took up the length of the opposite fence line—that must be for bocce ball—and then there was the grill where Cassidy and her family barbecued on summer evenings and a wrought-iron patio table with a partially spent citronella candle that kept the mosquitoes away. Ash had smelled the citronella from the other side of his fence, and being able to match the image of Cassidy’s candle with the scent gave him a thrill that felt almost illicit.
He flushed and hurried back into his own backyard, just as Cassidy’s phone rang.
“Hi, Mom… uh-huh… okay, I’ll go check.” She hung up and turned to Ash. “My mom thinks she left the stove on. The cross-country team is coming over for a spaghetti carbo-load later today—you know, to prep for our race tomorrow. I’m just gonna run in to check the stove, but I swear I’ll be right back to help you pick up the broken fence boards.” She smiled and jogged off.
Ash took advantage of her absence and texted The Coven.
Ash:S-O-S. Cassidy is in my backyard and I lost my voice and I don’t know what to do.
Onny:OMG Cassidy as in the girl you’ve been in love with 4EVA??? (Outkast voice: For-evah! Eva! Eva!)??? SHALL WE CONSULT THE STARS FOR GUIDANCE?!
Ash:No, I need practical advice!
True:Back away from the astrological charts, Onny.
Onny:~~*~~The stars will never steer you wrong~~*~~
True:Pretty sure the stars cannot do any steering, being as they are inanimate objects.
Onny:I cannot hear this negativity over the sound of the universe and stars aligning. PS, Ash is a Cancer with Pisces moon and Cassidy is a Taurus, so obvz they are PERFECT!
True:How do you even know her sign?
Onny:Because I KNOW things…
