I’ll never forget coming home with my first paycheck and my dad telling me to spend it on something foolish. As I walk to the register with my new swimsuit in hand, I grab a swimming cap and a fancy new pair of goggles. I think I’m ready to spend my little bit of savings on somethingcompletely foolish: the future.
Maybe I’m high on my recent purchase or maybe I’m an idiot, but as I’m walking out the door, I spot a bright-red bike in the window of Al’s Bikes across the street.USED!the sign says.WHAT A DEAL!
I flip through my cash and do some quick math on how much more I’ll make this month if I can pick up my route again.
As I’m walking through the door of Al’s, the bell rings overhead. I tell myself the bike will pay for itself in two weeks. And I’m really freaking tired of walking.
FORTY-SEVEN
With only three weeks of school to go, I’ve been running around doing things I’d never imagine actually happening to me, like picking up my graduation robe and cleaning out my locker.
Freddie, Adam, Ruthie, and I meet in the courtyard for lunch and to trade notes for various finals.
Freddie and I haven’t talked much since the hospital. It’s like that night was a safe zone, and nothing we said or did would count against us. And now I see him at lunch or in the hall. I’ll wave and he’ll smile back. But that night didn’t change things. Maybe if my life were a movie, the tornado would have driven us back to each other, but that wasn’t how it happened.
The intercom crackles for a moment, before the school secretary says, “Attention, students: yearbooks have arrived. They will be available in the yearbook room and at the front office.”
There are a few distant cheers. The school was onlyslightly damaged and ended up closing for two days following the tornado. The entire trailer park was condemned, like it should have been years ago.
“It doesn’t even matter what we get on these finals,” says Ruthie. “We’ve all already been accepted to colleges.”
“Almost,” I say. “I still have to mail in my final transcript.”
“Come on, Ramona! Hop to it.” She nudges me in the ribs. “You’re totally in, though. I mean, you’re basically on the swim team already.”
Freddie smiles but looks away quickly. I want to ask him if he decided to do the open tryouts at LSU, but I don’t want to put him on the spot.
When I told Ruth about Coach Pru’s offer and that I had decided to take her up on it, she cried. She cried actual human tears. And seeing Ruth cry made me cry. So the two of us sat there outside Boucher’s on our lunch break, hugging and crying.
I made the decision last week after swimming in my new suit for the first time. I did some weight lifting with Coach Pru as she sat there reading a copy ofSports Illustrated.
“I should charge you for this,” she said.
I laughed. “Couldn’t afford you anyway.”
She glanced up over the edge of her magazine, huffing out a laugh. A moment later, she stood and said, “I’m heading out early. That’s not an excuse to slack off.”
I groaned, knowing I’d finish my reps regardless.Afterward, I jumped into the pool to cool off. I let my body sink down to the bottom of the deep end. As I sat there, testing my lung capacity, I realized wherever I can find water, I can find home. I am home.
We all leave lunch early to line up for yearbooks. I didn’t shell out money for my own, but I wait with my friends still. After the bell rings, and we part ways with Freddie and Adam, Ruthie and I head to class.
“You mind if I look at that?” I ask as we take our seats, motioning to her yearbook.
She shrugs. “Sure.”
As Mr. Galvez goes over our Spanish final review, I flip to the back of the yearbook and search for the page bearing my name.
I tracked down Allyster a few days after we got settled into the extended-stay hotel. I was super late on the deadline, but he was surprisingly sympathetic. I may have guilted him with the whole losing-my-house-and-most-of-my-belongings-in-a-tornado thing.
Everyone’s senior page has one photo. Usually it’s a picture taken on the beach or in a field. The picture on my senior page is half a strip of black-and-white photo-booth pictures of Freddie and me from our day in New Orleans. It was an old photo booth—the kind that still uses chemicals. We took so many that day despite the line of couples waiting behind us.
In the first photo, he and I are still getting situated, not quite prepared for the first flash of the bulb. In the second photo, Freddie is holding me tight and we’re both laughinghysterically. You can even see his orange freckles splattered against his cheeks.
Next to the photos is a single quote.
You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.
—J. M. Barrie,PETER PAN
