He takes another sip. “What’s that look for?”
“You know, just thinking about how much you’re visiting Mabel lately.”
One brow arches. “I see. And how often is Theo going to be visiting now?”
I choke on my tea, spewing it across the lid. “Not at all!”
“Oh, don’t kid yourself, Fable.” He shakes his head, turning to walk toward his office. “You’re smarter than that. That boy was fumbling all over himself in front of you.”
“No, he was scared ofyou,” I call after him, but he just chuckles.
With a huff, I drop onto the stool behind the counter and stare out across downtown. The long, open park has a gazebo in the center, where carolers sing in the winter and kids eat drippy ice cream cones in the summer. A farmers’ market fills the northwest corner every Saturday from May until the end of October, and when there’s a festival, the whole block comes to life right before your eyes.
On the other side, at the far corner of downtown, I can just make out the blue-trimmed building where Theo works. It’s not that I sit here watching for him, but I do happen to see him coming or going through those doors occasionally. Sometimes he has lunch or a coffee in his hands and sometimes he’s walking a dog in the park.
I can’t help but notice him. It’s the same tic that makes me look for him early in the mornings when he runs by the A-frame. And the same one that made me hyperaware of him every day of high school. It’s a homing beacon in my brain that won’t shut the hell up when he’s around. It makes me want to get as far away from him as possible so I don’t have to hear it.
My stomach twists when I remember his idea.Pretend to be together?
It’s insane. Ridiculous. No one in town would even believe it after the parade incident.
The moment that changed everything for us.
We were fourteen—the summer before freshman year—and newly assigned to our high school athletics teams. It was my first event with the girls’ soccer crew, and I was nervous as hell, hoping to make a good impression. Football, baseball, soccer, golf, and swim team were all walking in the parade just before the marching band.
Theo had been quiet all morning—uncharacteristically broody and closed off. Mia and her mom were notably absent from the event, and all of it together had my nerves prickling. Something was going on, and I had no idea what it was. And no time to askhim.
As our section of the parade reached downtown, Theo waswalking beside me, arguing with Todd, one of the guys on his baseball team, about who knows what. All of a sudden their argument escalated. To this day, I don’t know who started it or how it happened so quickly, but before I could fully focus on it, Theo’s nose was bleeding, and he was throwing a punch back at Todd.
Everything got out of hand in an instant. Todd stumbled back with a shout. Itried to get out of the way and tripped over my soccer ball, rolling my ankle in the process. And as I tumbled to the ground, I remember thinking that the marching band sounded really good together.
That was until the front row tripped. Over me.
They toppled. Fell like dominoes around me—trombones, baritones, French horns, trumpets. Instruments were colliding, loud honking sounds blasting out of them as their momentum came to a stop.
There were people shouting, music still playing from a parade float somewhere, and plenty of laughter, but all that faded away when I looked up at Theo from the ground. He had blood running down his chin and a wild look in his eyes. Iwatched his lips shift around my name, and then he was gone. Running without a single glance back.
Within days, the photos and video had spread. People found it hilarious—the contrast of the adorable, small-town parade, floats and balloons and flowers everywhere, the angry teenagers fighting in the middle of it, and the girl who brought the entire thing to a screeching halt.Good Morning Americacohosts were commenting on it, Kevin’s Diner was hanging a poster-size image of the incident on the wall, and it was the talk of the town for way longer than necessary. It was so public, soseenby everyone, that there was no way to escape it.
Of course, the most embarrassing moment of my life would happen right before I started high school. The girls on the soccerteam brought it up at every practice that summer, teasing me about the incident and stoking my fury with Theo over the whole thing. It was humiliating to be the laughingstock of the team I’d worked to be a part of, and Theo’s temper had been the cause of it.
The day after the parade, my parents told me Theo and Mia would be spending the summer with their grandparents in Oregon, and I didn’t see them again for months.
It wasn’t until school was about to start in the fall that my parents explained what was happening in their family. Iwas angry, hurt, and devastated and had no idea how to sort through those feelings when it came to Theo. It took Mia and me only minutes to get back to normal when we reunited. But Theo and I never recovered. He came back to town with a dark shadow around him, two fresh scars on his nose and jaw, a new long-distance girlfriend in Oregon, and no comment about the parade.
And I couldn’t forget the fact that he’d deserted me. He’d caused the entire scene and ran away. Left me to deal with the fallout.
Now I can put together the pieces and see how hard that summer must’ve been for him. Ican forgive him for the fight and the parade—he was going through a lot at the time—but we’ve never made it back to our friendship. We’re on opposite sides of a giant ravine. Over the years that space has filled with snippy comments and avoided conversations. Angry glares on my part and arrogant smirks on his. Our rivalry in high school became a self-fulfilling prophecy at some point—egged on by everyone around us.
Which begs the question, Why would anyone even believe Theo and I could be together now?
From my spot on the ground, I watch the light-gray clouds slip across my view. The raised wooden garden beds on either side of me fill the air with the earthy smell of fresh soil. My parents wander the garden around me, having some sort of mild disagreement about the placement of the cabbage versus the broccoli, but Dad will give in eventually and push full steam ahead with Mom’s idea.
They didn’t bat an eye when I wandered into the garden and plopped myself in middle of the walkway. They didn’t gasp when I explained the story behind the photo of me and Theo, and they didn’t give me a look when I mentioned my phone has been dead since last night.
They didn’t ask any questions beyond, “Are you okay?”
A noncommittal hum was my only response. I’m not sure exactly whatokaymeans.
