The Wallace Girl: The Feud Series

by Scott, Eliot

  I kick us back up to the surface and we’re both laughing. I don’t want to let her go.

  “Wow.” I sputter, working hard to act cool. “Okay killer Wallace girl. You do not need your parents to destroy me. Point taken.” I loosen my arms to give her a way to swim out, but she doesn't swim away, instead she moves her hair aside and levels me with a steady gaze. She licks the water from her lips, and it does me in—hard. She throws her arms around my neck, locking me into her embrace.

  "What else will you tell your parents about me…when you do tell them? Really,” she whispers. I feel my crush for her.

  “I’ll tell them that you’re beautiful. That you’re awesome. That you’re the coolest friend I’ve ever had.”

  “Best friend,” she corrects.

  “Best.” I agree. “And I’ll tell them that you make me happy.”

  13.

  Alex, Last Day of Summer, Before Freshman Year.

  “What? You only told them yesterday? No. Impossible.” Jojo’s eyes are wide, her voice sounds mad. She’s flat on her back next to me, and we’re drying off in the sun from our latest swim. She’s also looking over at me like she doesn’t know me at all. Like I’ve hurt her. I don’t like how this feels.

  “Yes.” I push on with what I’ve revealed to her so I can make her understand—make her smile come back. “Yesterday was the first time I mentioned you to my family but I have my reasons—very good reasons.”

  While she’s rummaging around in my bag for the cookies I’ve brought, I silently consider how father was also equally pissed off that I’d kept Jojo a secret from him for so long. I could tell her that he was oddly pleased about my announcement, but for some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t share that either.

  Unlike when Jojo told her mom and dad about me, her last name Wallace had hardly raised the brows on my father’s forehead.

  But Grady— he freaked about it. He started popping off at the mouth, immediately trashing anything beautiful I said about Jojo and the Wallaces, and started up a whole bunch of bullshit-tantrum-style rantings by shouting out that I’d been “fucking a Wallace chick up at the lake all summer while Father had him in an endless SAT study course,” and how “It just wasn’t fair!” Just like it wasn’t fair when Father gave me the lake.

  I barely survived telling them more about Jojo after that. Because even Father had started making cracks about me sticking it to a hot little number up at the lake. He asked pointed questions, sneering and egging Grady on, about how I was “more of a man” than Grady. He joked that the leaf, which I guess is me, didn’t fall far from the tree. He said I was just like him, and that he’d fucked a whole cheerleading squad, one by one, like picking apples off a tree, during his summer before high school.

  At that point, both my father and brother made my summer with Jojo suddenly feel so wrong, so dirty—everything that it wasn’t. I was red-hot pissed off, and I almost punched both of them in the face, starting with my dad!

  Thank God all of my training about being a “good Sincliair” kept my shit under control. I managed to defend Jojo’s honor with politely said words and a heart full of rage—not with my curled up fists screaming let go.

  I know if I would have hit my father and then gone after my brother’s face—or worse, hit my father in front of my brother—I’d be in the hospital right now and not here, swimming at the lake, that’s for sure.

  These are all things I don’t ever want to reveal to Jojo, but also things I think I need to eventually tell her. Because now—now that school starts tomorrow, and even though she’s the most badass and toughest girl I’ve ever met—I feel like she’s somehow twice as vulnerable because my family knows about her. I feel like she’s not going to be safe with Grady circling around, and with my father thinking she’s some sort of fling or fuck-buddy stepping stone on the way to the next girl. Or worse, that she’s a Wallace.

  “Alex. Why didn’t you bring me up earlier? For real.” Jojo shakes her head, pausing to dip into the Ziploc baggie full of cookies, breathing in the smell of them. “I’ve spoken volumes and volumes of beautiful words about you, like how cool you are, the amazing things you’ve done for me. I’m so wide open with my parents about how much I like you. I say it in front of them—in front of all of you—to you even, as you’ve heard me do more than once.”

  She pauses to lick her fingers free of some melting chocolate, and my chest has filled up with pride and amazement because of what she’s said. She goes on, “You’ve been over to my place dozens of times. I thought that by now you’d at least have shared the same stories at your place.”

  She shakes her head as I shake mine. “You assumed…but no. I just couldn’t,” I say.

  She frowns. “Are you ashamed of me? Because I’m…poor? Or not smart enough, or not getting the reading thing fast enough, or...why?” Her eyes grow wide. “I know we joke about this, but is it the Wallace-Sinclair thing holding you back? The lady in the museum said there was not much to go on after the turn of the century…but maybe it’s true and you haven’t told me? I feel so freakishly paranoid right now.”

  "No! No to all of those things!” I don’t let her entertain those ideas. “Never, ever think any of that. Ever.”

  I swallow, trying to make her understand by joking half-truths to her. "It’s because of my family—like I always tell you about them. They’re just so different. You’re right when you call them cold, because they kind of are. You’ll meet them one day soon, and then you’ll totally understand.”

  “I’ve been hoping to meet them all summer. I’m ready when you are.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll never be ready for that. They’re so…invasive. They’re beyond helicopter. For example, if they found out I was hiding a beautiful girl up here…” I blink, scouring my mind for more words while trying to put her off of this conversation some. “Then they’d show up and interfere, because they can’t help themselves. And if I told them how you were magical and mystical and so wonderful to me—and that you truly are my very best friend now—they'd somehow get jealous or act all strange because of who they are. They’d investigate you from your toenails up to your last hair follicle. They’d show up here at this lake to try to trap you like wild game. Forget about your paranoia, I’m terrified they’d make me stop seeing you.”

  There. I said it all. My worst fears—the unsayable, unthinkable things are out in the open now.

  “Could they do that? Would you listen to them if they said for us not to see each other?”

  I gaze over at her intently, wishing she could know all that I just said was so true, even though it’s fantastical, too.

  “I would never listen to them. Not about that.”

  When she frowns at me twice as hard and cocks her head to the side like she thinks I’m crazy, all I can do is stare at her lips, which, thankfully, are quirking up as she digests everything I’ve said.

  "Magical and mystical?” I breathe out a huge sigh of relief that she’s understanding how hard my family is, forgiving me for keeping her a secret, and that she’s changing the subject off the deeper stuff and keeping it on the surface. “You have got to lay off the fantasy novels, dude. But at the same time…thanks for the cute compliments about me.”

  “All of them true.” I laugh at her eye roll, relieved she’s not mad or insulted anymore.

  "What made you finally mention me now, then?” she asks, quietly.

  "The first day of school tomorrow, mostly. My secret will be ruined the second you step on the bus. Please understand, my dad and Grady, they have this way of taking away things that make me happy. They make these dark-sided cracks and like to tease me about anything I adore. And I’ve just…well…” I sigh out. “I’ve adored this summer up here with you, and I adore you if you must know—I didn’t want to jinx any of it. ”

  “Wow. That’s…so nice of you to say.” She sighs out long. “And I guess I can understand. My dad was worried about me hanging out with you at first, and I never told you this, but�
��after he and Mom met you the first night I’d dragged you home to dinner, Dad was kind of a mess.”

  I nod, trying to remember how Jojo’s parents were that night with me. “They didn’t let on about any distress. As far as I remember, they were simply kind and polite, and nothing more.”

  “After you left, they got really worried because they could tell how much I liked you. The saw that maybe I liked you too much.” She pulls her gaze away from my face as if she’s suddenly embarrassed. “Dad was ready to come down to the lake the next day and give you a piece of his mind that first week, but I talked him out of it. Mom started threatening again to not let me start traditional high school. But I made them both trust me. And I asked them to trust you.”

  “And that was enough?”

  She nods. “Eventually, yes. They love you now.”

  “Well, good. And you—they—should trust me.” I smile. “Because I’m very trustworthy where you’re concerned, and I’m glad your parents know that.”

  “I know. But, I swear, Alex, you’re sort of too trustworthy. You’re so…” Her eyes skate away from me. “Frustrating. And it’s getting awkward, and I want to talk about it. Do you get me?”

  “No, I do not get you.” My brows shoot up as does my pulse rate.

  "I talk to my parents about how you're always so attentive, and how you chronically watch over me even when we're sitting still. How you’ve really helped me catch up and be ready for the upcoming year because you want me to fit in but…”

  “Hell yes, I watch over you,” I agree, sitting up when she sits up. “But what’s the but about?”

  “Well.” She sighs. “I swear you think I might drown in two inches of water or trip every step that we’re hiking or, heck, even when I'm turning the pages of your books, you’re so watchful over me that I swear you think I might get a paper cut from every page.”

  "I am not like that with you,” I lie, because I am. I can’t help myself. I hover too damn close to her. I know I do it, but it’s not like I can stop. “And if I am so concerned with you, what’s the big deal? Is it…wrong…or…”

  “No. Kind of. I don’t know.” She cracks up. “It’s not a big deal…unless it is a big deal? You know?”

  “What? What are you talking about?” I shake my head, horrified with the realization that I’ve been a dork around her when I only want to be cool.

  She shrugs and locks gazes with me.

  It’s so intense I get even more worried.

  “When I was alone with my mom last night, I asked her if she thinks I’m not normal. And she told me to ask you what you thought about me. Is there something wrong with me? Something that would make me seem too different to be able to fit in at school, or something that makes me not relate properly to people or anything? Like, do my signals not send, will people not…get me? Alex, do you think I’m…off?”

  "What?" I ask her again. “Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s the opposite of off. You’re—so on! You’re beyond beautiful, and special and more amazing than any girl at our school—in this entire town even. You’re going to be a superstar when we start tomorrow.”

  She draws her brows down but keeps those eyes intent on mine. "Then why don't you ask me out? Why don't you try to kiss me, or ask if I'll be your girlfriend? If all the amazing feelings I have for you are real, and if all that special stuff you say about me is true, then don't you want to go out with me? Kiss me at least, and break my heart before school starts, like the plot of that insane movie Grease? Is it that I’m not pretty enough? Because Alex, I’m attracted to you, and I want to kiss you.”

  “Oh my God," I stutter out. "No. No. And No! Shit. Jojo…shit, really?”

  She looks down at the water. Her shoulders go visibly limp with what has to be embarrassment at my crappy response to the questions I'd been hoping to hear and dreamed to ask her since the day I met her.

  "Don't say anything more. I get it. I’m not your type and you want to just be friends. You don’t have to say that it’s you and not me, or whatever.”

  She dives into the lake then and I follow her fast, capturing her retreating form before she has a second to swim away from me.

  “Hold up. Please. I’m so sorry.”

  “You are? No…no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all of that.” She looks at me, her face is all freckles and water droplets that might be tears, plus all the shades of burning red that flush her cheeks when she’s mortified.

  “Yes. Listen to me. Please.” I easily hold her weight and tread water for both of us and suddenly, I'm not sure if it's her pounding heart I hear or mine.

  "JoJo, please don't misunderstand me again. Of course I like you. But it’s not fair of me to even assume that I could deserve a girl as amazing as you when you haven’t seen the other choices out there. Do you really want to kiss me? Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. But like…I felt like I should wait. Let you have other choices because you’ve been homeschooled. You haven’t met any other guys yet. And if and when you do, well, you may find me lacking…or, whatever.”

  “What?” Her flashing blue eyes skate over my face and stop at my lips. “What do you mean? I’ve worn chapsticks of every flavor. I even bought lip gloss last week and slathered it on just hoping, and you didn’t even notice it.”

  I’m trying not to smile, or worse crack up in the middle of her being so upset, but I do defend myself and say, “Oh, I did notice that lip gloss. Oh, yes I did. Had to cold shower it that day two times, if you must know. Damn your lips, Jojo Wallace. But they’re gorgeous—with or without gloss.”

  “Well then, you suck.” She pulls out of my arms and treads water in front of me; I do the same. “Then why don’t you make a move? I can only think it’s because you’re so handsome and composed all the time, and I’m stupid and too much of a tomboy and not for you. I keep thinking it must be because my hair is always wild and tangled, and because I don’t have the right clothes. Or maybe, because like you said, you have other girls to compare me to, and all along you’ve found me…lacking.”

  I swim pull her into the shallows so our feet can both touch. "You're JoJo, the girl with the dreamy, sky blue eyes. JoJo, the girl who's smarter than all of us. JoJo, the girl with the smile that makes me wish for unobtainable things. You make me want to own the moon just so I can give it to you as a gift, because you don’t want anything fancy, and because the moon is all I can ever think of that would be a match to show you just how huge I feel about you.”

  I put both of my hands on her upper arms and give her a gentle shake because she’s shaking her head like she doesn’t believe what Im saying to her. “You’re the girl I couldn’t share with my family because I’m jealous of anyone who knows about you, and you’re the girl whose laugh I will never get out of my head and whose voice has been in every dream I’ve had this summer. You’re also the best friend I’ve ever had—and I never ever want to lose that. Ever.”

  “So…why? Because—I—want—you—”

  “No. Let me finish. Please.” I gather the courage I've been trying to find all summer and blurt, “The why is—I’m scared to lose you because you're so far out of my league and you don’t even know it. Tomorrow you're going to meet new people and new guys who might be way more handsome and smarter than I am. I don't know a lot about girls, but I do know you should have this right to choose. I also know no girl has ever liked me on the boyfriend level, and I mean at all, ever before. Girls like handsome football players, and hockey players, and guys with muscles way more than guys with backpacks full of books and a craving for more fishing rods.

  She nods to my biceps. "You have muscles. They’re perfect and you even have an amazing six pack. You're generous and kind, and you’re so flipping gorgeous. With those warm brown eyes of yours and that curling mop of hair that does need to be cut, to me you’re the most awesome and handsome boy I’ve ever known in my entire life, and that counts all book heroes and movie stars. Your face and your heart does it for me, and I don’t thi
nk that’s going to change tomorrow. I also think you know me well enough to know I'm not one to change my mind. I want you. I have the world's biggest crush on you, Alex Sinclair, and I’m hoping you’ll be my boyfriend after this. And I’m about to choke to death on the shivers going down my spine and the butterflies that go into my throat every time you smile at me.”

  "Every time I smile? But I never stop smiling when you’re in front of me, because you are what makes me smile." To prove it, I smile and smile and smile—how can I not?

  She rolls her beautiful eyes to the sky. "I know. Sheer torture. That’s what you’ve been doing to me.”

  I pull her close and she wraps her arms around me as I place my hands gently against the sides of her face. I pull her face to mine softly. Somehow, I don’t screw this up, and my lips fall into the exact right place against hers.

  Her first sigh wipes out all conscious thought, and her second sigh nearly does me in, because I am also breathing out an entire summer’s worth of relief.

  After this, all I will remember is how perfectly she fit next to me mixed in with the feeling of comfort. Tomorrow, while at school, I will have every right to continue to keep her safe, to hover inside of all of her beauty. My most perfect summer with my dream girl will not have to end.

  14.

  Jojo, Present Day.

  I haven't peed in four hours.

  My throat is dry, and my stomach is whining with pangs. It's all tolerable compared to the cracking sensation I feel growing in my heart as I pull the final stack of deeds and override documents from the boxes Will set aside for me.

  47.67841. USGS & Surveys.

  That’s what this one starts out with. Riveting stuff.

  Its tiny numbers and letters have made my head pound. The sticker below that says more is nearly peeling away. I have figured out from going through the others that the numbers are some sort of map thing—a latitude, or a longitude—implying there’s going to be more indecipherable maps in here that don’t apply to me.