by Tucker, RH
We pull into the parking lot and make our way down the sand; the bonfire is already blazing. There are a lot more people than I thought there would be, but I shouldn't be surprised. Tamara's not only popular with a lot of kids in our school, but she's also the type of girl who knows people everywhere. I scan the crowd, looking for a place to hang out when I spot Sarah with a couple of her friends. She's wearing tiny shorts and a pink zip-up hoodie. As soon as she starts to turn her head my direction, I look away, so we don't make eye contact.
“There’s Lucas,” Matt says, pointing over to him, Jeremy, and a few others who are tossing around a glowing football.
After throwing the ball around for a while, we end up back over with the large group. I hear whispers going around about beer that was supposed to show up, but I guess whoever was supposed to bring it either got caught or decided to flake because everyone's either drinking bottled water or soda.
There’s a log set up near the fire, and I take a seat, as Matt goes to grab us a drink. That’s when Sarah plops down next to me.
“Carter,” she says in a high-pitched tone. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I raise my eyebrows, staring at the fire. “Well, here I am.”
I'm trying to not even make eye contact, but I can't help noticing her stand back up and unzip her hoodie. At first, I'm wondering why, because even next to the fire, the breeze over the beach has picked up a little. Then I see why. She ties the hoodie around her waist, and she's wearing a bright, lime green bikini top. She's definitely well endowed, but I know she's not usually that tan, so I'm guessing she went to a tanning salon recently. And as much as I want to look away to avoid any encouragement on her part, I can't. I am a guy, after all.
“I just got this.” She motions to her top as she sits back down next to me. “You like it?”
Trying to regain my focus, I nod casually and look down at the sand. "Yeah, it's nice."
“OMG,” she says, and I cringe. I never understood why some girls do that, abbreviate things as if we’re talking through texts. The thought makes me think of Emerald, but Sarah continues. “It’s so cold out tonight.” She wraps her arms around herself but does it in a way that she’s pushing her boobs out.
I know exactly what she’s doing, so I can’t resist the logical explanation that comes out. “Um, then put your hoodie back on.”
She does that giggle that some girls do when they’re trying to flirt and leans in closer to me. “Mm-mm.” She shakes her head.
I know she's either about to make a move or waiting just long enough for me to, so relief floods through me as I see Matt walking back to us.
Sarah gives me an annoyed look, as I call him over.
“Here.” Matt hands me a soda. “They’re all out of water.”
“Thanks.” I pop it open and take a drink. Matt’s eyes are darting between myself and Sarah, while I’m trying to avoid her.
“Where’s mine?” Sarah looks at Matt.
“Uh …” Matt gives her an unsure look.
“It’s over there.” I point to the cooler on the other side of the group.
I know it’s rude and makes me sound like a dick, but she’s giving me no other choice here.
Sarah plays it off, giggling again, then reaches for my soda. “I don’t want a full one, just a sip.”
I let her take it out of my hand, staring at her in annoyance. Again, she’s playing the game, taking a drink of the soda in the most erotic way possible, letting out a moan, and then hands me back the can. My eyes narrow at her and I hear an uncomfortable cough come from Matt. But it’s all a game. It’s all fake. And realizing that, I know I need to just end it now.
“You drink everything like?”
“Just the stuff I like.” She throws flirty eyes at me.
“Sarah, what is this? Look, I don’t want to be rude, but I’m not into it, okay?”
Instantly, her demeanor changes. She straightens up and stares at me. “What?”
“Seriously.” I wave around the crowd but keep my voice down. “There are a ton of guys here. Just go talk to one of them.” Her mouth drops, before I add, “Sorry.”
I look over at Matt, who’s half amazed and half in horror. Sarah stands up, zipping her hoodie back up. “You’re an asshole.”
I should just let her go and ignore it. But the fact that she’s mad at me after she’s been the annoying one this entire time pulls at me.
"Yeah. But I'm an asshole you gave a handjob to. Have a nice night."
The appalled look on her face morphs into pure hatred. "Fuck you."
“Oh, my God, dude,” Matt whispers as she storms away, trying to contain his laughter. “That was unbelievable.”
I just look back at the fire, not feeling good about any of it. I wish I hadn’t said it, even if it is true. I wish I could’ve just been friendly, or at least courteous. I think of Emerald and how she seems so sweet. If she didn’t like someone, she probably wouldn’t try to embarrass them.
“I’m gonna take a walk,” I say, getting up and leaving Matt behind.
As I get further away from the crowd, I pull out my phone and scan the recent text messages I've sent. Maybe tonight's the night I should just put it all out there. Tell her I want to meet and find out just what the hell this thing is between us. Before I can type anything, my phone chirps.
Emerald22: #SecretSunday
I smile, as I reply.
BigBaller27: What does that mean?
Emerald22: Tell me something
Emerald22: Tell me something no one else knows :)
I bite the inside of my lip. This is interesting. But what can I say? I don't have any secrets that Matt doesn't already know.
BigBaller27: My best friend knows most of my secrets
Emerald22: Yeah, so does mine :/
Emerald: Okay, something only your best friend would know ;)
My first thought is about Sarah since it just happened. I think about telling her that I'm looked at as a player, with all this experience, but it's all fake. I decide not to though. First of all, that just makes me sound like a douche. And secondly, what if she really does have experience. That'd be a little embarrassing. Then I remember something else I think about from time to time, even though I try not to. Something only Matt knows.
BigBaller27: Okay…
BigBaller27: Everyone knows it's just my mom and me. That my dad left when I was little.
BigBaller27: What most people don't know, is it's because I walked in on him having sex with my babysitter when I was five. I was little and had no idea what was happening, so I told my mom. There was a huge argument that night and the next day he was gone. I haven't seen him since.
I stare down at my phone, nervous about hitting the send button. This is one of the most intimate details of my life I’m sharing with her. Letting out a breath, I hit send.
Chapter 14
Emma
Oh. My. God. I blink as I re-read the screen a few times. I’m instantly regretting thinking of this stupid game. Stupid Lana, with her stupid comment about sharing stupid secrets. It’s not that I feel weird about him sharing something so private with me. It’s the opposite. He’s trusting me. He’s sharing this part of his life with me, that almost no one else knows about. It’s in that moment that I know I have to meet him. But first I should apologize.
Emerald22: Oh God, I’m so sorry
BigBaller27: It's no big deal. I mean, I guess it was at the time, but u know
Emerald22: No, it is a big deal. I feel horrible
BigBaller27: Don’t. I don’t mind sharing that with you :) Plus, my mom is a great ‘father’ for me too
Emerald22: Thank u but I DO! I thought this would be a fun little thing, but it got super serious. And I have literally nothing as serious as that
BigBaller27: Well that’s a good thing
Emerald: No, I feel so stupid now. My secret is so dumb and inconsequential compared to yours
BigBaller27: Secrets are secrets :) wha
t’s urs?
I bite my bottom lip as I type in my answer, feeling like it’s the lamest secret in the world now.
Emerald22: I have this tiny scar on the bottom of my chin. You can't really see it anymore, especially if I'm wearing make-up, but it's there. I got it when I was seven after falling off my bike. It needed three stitches, and all the boys made fun of me at school because of it :/
I wait patiently for him to laugh at me. Laugh at my horrible excuse of a secret, compared to the life-altering one he shared with me. When he replies, most of my nerves dissipate, and I smile.
BigBaller27: I would’ve beat up any boy who laughed at you ;)
Butterflies.
Emerald22: We should meet.
BigBaller27: Yes!
BigBaller27: When?
BigBaller27: Where?
BigBaller27: Sorry, was that too quick of a reply? >//<
I let out a little laugh at his embarrassed emoji and excitement, which gets me excited.
Emerald22: How about tomorrow? During lunch?
BigBaller27: Absolutely. Where?
I don’t want it to be in the cafeteria, with everyone around. In the quad could work, but then I’d have Jen, Micah, and Lana all looking over each other, waiting. Of course, I’ll tell them who he is, but I want this to be private first. Just for us.
Emerald22: How about the courtyard, near the front of the school. There’s that grassy area and that big oak tree?
BigBaller27: Perfect. How will I know who you are?
A smile creeps across my lips.
Emerald22: I’ll be wearing my Hogwarts Hufflepuff shirt, sitting under the oak tree.
BigBaller27: Um, hufflepuff???
Emerald22: U know, from Harry Potter?
BigBaller27: I’ve only seen the movies, and it’s been a while.
Emerald22: Ugh, you have so much to learn lol
BigBaller27: Can’t wait for you to teach me ;D
I can’t contain the smile on my face.
Emerald22: Fine. I’ll be wearing a Star Wars shirt. Better?
BigBaller27: Now that I can recognize.
Emerald22: Okay :)
BigBaller27: Okay
The nerves are building up in my stomach, and suddenly I have no idea what to talk about.
Emerald22: So… I guess I’ll see u tomorrow
BigBaller27: I guess you will ;)
It's just an emoji. I shouldn't read anything into it, but I can't help it. He was so excited by his response and ready to meet. And I’m ready to meet.
The night is restless, and I don't know how much sleep I get. It isn't much. Getting up in the morning, I throw on a pair of pants, my Chucks, and my Star Wars shirt. I can't contain the bounce in my step as I make my way out to Jen when she picks me up.
“Holy crap.” Jen looks at me grinning. “You look like it’s Christmas morning.”
“It’s gonna be a good day.”
“And why is that?” she asks, starting to drive.
“Oh, you know, the sun’s out. I think I know what I’m painting for the art show. And …” I pause to glance over at her and wait till she looks back at me.
“Yeah, and?”
“I’m meeting him today!” I let out a high-pitched scream, and Jen’s mouth drops open for a second before she starts screaming with me.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!”
“I know!” We can’t contain the laughter that starts between us.
“When?”
“Today at lunch.”
“Oh, I’m so gonna be spying on you!”
“No, Jen,” I say, but can’t keep the smile off my face. “I want to meet him privately first.”
“But I want to know who it is!” She pouts.
"You will, but I want to meet him alone first. This is … I don't know. This is special."
“What if he takes a friend?”
“He won’t.”
“How do you know? Did you ask him?”
“No, but I know he won’t. I know him. I’m sure he wants it to be just as special.”
“Oh, God.” She rolls her eyes. “Fine. But you better text me as soon as you two are done swooning into each other’s eyes.”
I nod to her but keep smiling as I look out through the window.
The entire day seems to drag. First period, second period, and so on. By fourth period, the class right before lunch, I seriously think time is standing still. I don't even remember what my teacher is talking about, as every two minutes my eyes jump to the clock on the wall, doing everything I can to will the time to move faster.
When the bell rings for lunch, every butterfly in the world seems to be residing in my stomach. My fingers tighten around the straps of my backpack as I make my way to the oak tree. Not many students eat their lunch in the courtyard, and as I get there, I'm relieved to see only a few kids sitting in the area.
Sitting under the tree, I begin to over-think how I should be sitting. Legs crossed? Legs under me? Maybe I shouldn't be sitting, and just be standing up waiting for him. Trying to calm myself down, I pull out my sketchbook and aimlessly start drawing.
Chapter 15
Carter
"I can't believe you're doing this," Matt mutters next to me as we walk down the hall.
I told him about it this morning when I saw him, and he seemed just as nervous as me.
“I know.” I glance around as we stop at the end of the hall. “Okay, bro. This is where I leave you.”
"Man." He curls his lip. "I can't believe you're not even telling me where you're meeting her."
“Dude, if this girl is even a tenth of a percent as real as she’s been acting, I don’t want to screw this up. Besides, you’re gonna see me right after lunch.”
"All right, fine." He raises a fist, and I hit his knuckles. "Good luck."
“Thanks.”
Looking behind me to double check and make sure he's leaving, I watch him turn a corner, then I turn around and head towards the courtyard of the school. As I get there, I peek around. There are a few people eating lunch, a couple off to the side, but for the most part, it's pretty empty. Over to the left sits the large oak tree. A bowling ball of nerves abruptly drops in my stomach. My feet freeze. I mentally roll up my sleeves and force them to move. This is happening.
As I get closer, I can see someone sitting behind the tree. An arm moves, and it looks like a girl’s. Then she flips over a piece of paper.
Instead of going straight towards the tree, I walk to the side. I have to see this girl first to see if I know her. As I take a few more steps, she comes into focus, and my mouth drops open. I can't believe it. Sketching in a notebook, wearing a black Star Wars shirt, is Emma Sanchez. The same Star Wars shirt she was wearing when she bumped into me last week.
I do a double take. Then a triple take. No way. No-freaking-way. My mystery girl is Emma Sanchez. How in the world is this happening? I stay off in the distance a few more minutes, just watching her and trying to piece everything together, but there's nothing to piece together. It isn't some grand scheme. I texted the wrong number, which evidently was hers. She looks as pretty as she always does and it seems like she curled her hair a little. She's wearing some short pants again, only these are black. I watch her as she studies her sketchbook, her fingers waving over the paper with a pencil.
Of course, she doesn’t have a care in the world. She’s real. She’s probably the realest person I’ve ever known. And there she is waiting for a guy, me, but still enjoying her life.
I turn around and start to walk away, but I can't. Facing away from her, I peer over my shoulder just as she pulls out her cell phone. A small frown crosses her lips. She's waiting for him. For me. Damn it, what the hell did I do?
I can't just leave her. What kind of asshole would that make me? I know Sarah called me that last night, but she was mad that I didn't want to hook up with her. If I just bail on Emma, then I really am an asshole. A certified douchebag.
Facing her direction, every muscl
e in my body tenses. With every step I take, I get closer, and I have no freaking clue what to say. Hey, Emma. Guess what? I’m BigBaller27! Yeah right, she’ll flip her shit and scream at me. Or run away. Or both. But I have to say something. I can’t just stand her up.
I finally make it to the tree. She puts her phone away and goes back to sketching. I've moved so slowly because I'm nervous, she hasn't heard me. I lean against the tree and look down at her, seeing what she's drawing. It's a sketch of the courtyard, the fountain in the middle. There's a couple drawn off in the distance, and I look back up to see them still sitting there. It's loose but detailed at the same time. It's really good. Thinking of our messages, I remember she loves art class and painting. She said it probably brings her as much joy as I told her playing basketball brings me.
“Uh … hey, what’s up, Emma?” The words come out muffled.
Her head shoots up. At first, there's a hint of excitement and surprise. But it instantly vanishes as her eyes meet mine.
"Carter," she groans out, her eyes returning to her sketchbook. "What are you doing here?"
This is hopeless. She isn’t even giving it the possibility that Big Baller is me. She hates me.
“Oh, I was …” I look around, searching for a reason to give her. “I had to meet up with my coach.”
"Okay, then." She waves me off. "Go talk to your coach."
Trying to think of something else to say, I look back down at her sketchbook. “Whatchya got there? Is that a sketch?”
“Ding, ding,” she says, annoyed. “Looks like your problem-solving skills are as sharp as ever.”
