Save Steve

by Jenni Hendriks

  The girls had run straight to the water when we’d arrived. Now they were dancing and shrieking, kicking sand and salt water at each other as they ran from the waves. Beside me, Kaia watched them, her shoes off, her feet dug into the cool sand. But then she reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and started typing. “Sorry, I just got a great idea for the yearbook cover. Footsteps on the sand.” She paused, her fingers hovering over the screen. “Is that too cliché? I feel like it’s been done. Maybe just a beach theme?” She groaned. “What am I doing? This is a beautiful night. I should be enjoying it, but instead I’m thinking about yearbook. Which, if Kendra had turned in her cover on time, would not be my problem.” She sighed and dropped her phone. “I’m sorry. I’m not fun.”

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her, “neither am I.”

  Kaia turned. “What are you even talking about? You just did an entire Cardi B routine and a few weeks ago you wore a freakin’ beard of bees.”

  What was I supposed to say? That’s all Steve? Your boyfriend. Because on my own I was much more of a sit in the sand type than a run through the waves one. “I promise you. I’m more not-fun than you are. I spend most of my time thinking about how the world will end.”

  Kaia arched an eyebrow. “Really? Because when I look out there, all I see is rising sea levels.” She gestured to the ocean.

  “I see toxic runoff,” I countered without blinking an eye.

  “I see sea turtles in plastic bags.”

  “Extinction from overfishing.”

  “Underwater noise pollution.”

  “Bioluminescent algae blooms!” I finished, triumphant.

  Kaia chuckled, then held out her fist. “Bummer Twins activate.” We sadly bumped, then turned back to the dancers. They were twirling and taking long, graceful leaps over the water.

  “Stand up.”

  “What?” Kaia frowned, confused, as I got to my feet.

  I brushed the sand off my sweats and held out my hand. Kaia took it, still unsure. “Let’s try it. Being fun.” I pulled her up.

  “I’m not dancing, Cam. I’m not g—”

  I tapped her on the shoulder. “You’re it.” She stared at me, still not comprehending as I danced back a few steps.

  “Oh my god. Are you eight years old?”

  I smirked. “No. I’m fun.”

  Kaia shook her head but then, without warning, she swiped at me. I barely jumped back in time. She tried again and I darted out of her reach. She huffed, frustrated, then leaped for me. I dodged, but almost lost my footing. This time she laughed a little. “See,” I said. “I’m laughing. You’re laughing.”

  “No,” Kaia growled, “you’re it!” And she launched herself at me. With a spin, I dug my heels into the sand and pushed off, feet pounding, flying down the beach. Kaia charged after me, a spray of sand in her wake. I stretched the distance between us, digging my toes into the damp grit with each step, feeling the cool night breeze wash over my face. “How do you run so fast?” Kaia called after me.

  “I’ve been dancing three hours a day for a week! I can keep this up all night!” I laughed and kept going, loving how the beach stretched before me, seemingly infinite in the dark.

  “Slow down!”

  “And let you tag me?” I called. She wasn’t far behind, though she was struggling to keep up.

  “Look! Litter!”

  “Where?” I whipped my head around to see where she was pointing. Whumph! Kaia grabbed me around my waist and tackled me to the ground. We crashed in the sand, both cackling helplessly. Finally, a little breathless, I sat up and shook my hair, sending bits of beach debris flying. “Oh, ow.”

  Kaia sat up, sand caked to her cheek. “Yeah. Sand. Despite appearances, not soft.”

  “Nope.” I looked down the beach. I could barely see Alyssa and the other dancers now, though I could hear their shrieks occasionally breaking through the crash of the waves. I turned back to Kaia. She was staring at me. I wondered what she saw. Probably someone whose hair was a mess, with a scrape on their elbow, and sand mixed up in the glitter ringing their eyes. I knew what I saw when I looked at her: someone who knew me well enough that she could beat me at tag by pretending there was trash on the ground.

  “See,” I said, though it came out a little too soft, “that was fun.” Neither of us moved. We just hung there, suspended.

  “That’s why, you know.” She said it quietly.

  “What?” I blinked a bit, like I was coming out of a dream.

  “Why I’m with Steve.”

  Oh.

  For just a second I’d forgotten about Steve. For just a second it had been only me and Kaia on an almost empty beach.

  “Fun.” There was a funny twist to her lips as she said it. “That’s why I started dating him. Because he seemed like fun. There’s no big story, no huge romance. We had a class project together. When I got paired with Steve, I was sure I’d get stuck doing everything. But he actually did the work. Except while I worried about everything, he just laughed. And then he asked me out. And I thought, Maybe this is what I need. He wasn’t ever who I imagined dating . . . but maybe that was okay. And I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I said yes.”

  It was so simple. After everything I’d planned and worried about, waiting for just the right time, Steve had just asked her out, like it was nothing, probably on the way to lunch while half thinking about the Tater Tots he was going to eat. Did he even care what her answer was? Was that why it was so easy? I realized Kaia was still talking.

  “. . . and we started dating. And I kept hoping maybe there’d be more to him. Because I liked him. I did. I do. But . . . he’s not . . .” She looked down.

  He’s not what, Kaia? My heart was in my throat. HE’S NOT WHAT??

  “And then I figured, well, it’ll be short. He’s broken up with how many girls?”

  “Six last year.” Not that I’d counted or anything.

  “Right. But then he didn’t. And I’m not much of a breaker-upper. I mean, I haven’t even had a real boyfriend except him. And then he got cancer. What was I supposed to do? You can’t break up with a guy with cancer.”

  All I could hear was break up. Over and over, like the crashing waves.

  Kaia scrubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I—”

  I wanted to put my arms around her, but instead I went with a joke. “Hold on. I’m still stuck on the part where you thought Steve Stevenson has feelings.”

  Kaia burst out with a laugh that turned into a sob. “Cam! This isn’t funny!” She flopped back down and threw an arm across her eyes. “I’m dating a guy who calls his penis ‘Stevie Wonder.’”

  I choked. “I did not hear that.”

  Kaia pulled her arm halfway off her eye and peered at me. “Will people hate me if I break up with him?” There were those two words again. The two words I’d been desperate to hear. I’d worn a diaper and bees and danced and gotten tattooed just to get to this moment. Kaia continued, “It’s not like he’d be alone for long. I mean, have you seen the comment section on the website?”

  “Unfortunately.” As the campaign had grown more popular, random girls had been leaving messages of “support” for Steve that implied they’d be willing to nurse him back to health in some very nontraditional ways.

  “Is it horrible I imagined if we somehow got to twenty thousand and his family was taken care of, that breaking up with him would be okay? And we’re pretty close to our goal, right? I mean, not twenty thousand . . . but would people still hate me?” She took her arm all the way off her eyes and stared at me, eyes shining and hopeful in the dark. I answered her the only way I could.

  “I wouldn’t hate you.”

  With a sigh, Kaia closed her eyes. There was a smile on her lips again. It was a little wobbly, but it was there. She opened her eyes and sat up. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Of course.”

  “I got you named Best Person in the yearbook.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t quite meet her gaze.
It was everything I wanted. Well, not everything, everything, but it was how I wanted Kaia to see me. So why wasn’t I leaping through the waves? Why did I feel guilty?

  “Oh, don’t give me that humble bullshit. You know you are.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Tell me one bad thing you’ve ever done. And forgetting to recycle something doesn’t count.”

  I looked out at the ocean. “Okay, here’s one thing: I pretended to want to help your boyfriend in order to impress you. And then even though he tortured me, my plan worked out perfectly and now we’re sitting here on a beach while your hair floats around you in an ocean breeze and you’re telling me you want to break up with him, and while I feel really, really happy about that, I also feel a little confused and guilty and I’m not sure why.” I could have said that. But I settled on, “I’ve done some bad stuff.”

  “Really?” Kaia scooted closer. “Please tell me it was something really terrible because then . . .” She drifted off, her face inches from mine.

  “What?” Suddenly whatever thoughts were in my head vanished. She was so close.

  Kaia reached out and wiped some glitter and sand off my cheek with her finger, watching it sparkle in the dark. “You wouldn’t be Best Person . . .” Wait, what did that mean? Did she not want me to be Best Person? Was it okay if I wasn’t? And how did I not notice she had freckles? “And also . . .”

  “What?” The word came out a bit strangled.

  She dropped her hand gently to my shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “. . . now you’re IT!” With a cry she sprang up and darted away. I sat back with a thud. Kaia spun around to face me, her bare feet dancing in the sand. “Come on. Aren’t you going to get me?”

  14

  As my mom made a massive stack of celebratory pancakes, I snuck a peek at the site. What was I going to have to do now? Skydive? Run with the bulls? Burn down a rain forest?

  But when the site popped up, I was shocked to see it was still unchanged. I assumed Steve must have slept in. It was Saturday. I exhaled and tried to enjoy this rare moment of peace. Closing my eyes, I basked in the memory of the beach and Kaia and being the Best Person. Had that really happened? Had she really said she was going to break up with him?

  The next day, the website was still the same. I wandered around my house in a daze while my mom blasted Cardi B and danced in celebration. I still couldn’t completely relax. The longer he took to change the site, the worse I imagined it would be. He probably wanted to unveil it on a Monday when he could get the full impact of my humiliation. Or maybe he’d finally given up. Or maybe Kaia had broken up with him. That thought had caused me to drop my phone again, finally fracturing the screen so badly it was useless. But then I figured the lack of internet connection was probably good for me. Inspired by the peace it brought, I even let my laptop battery drain so that I couldn’t check the site on it either. I was going off the grid, living in ignorance and bliss. Last night, I’d read the copy of The Five Love Languages that I had bought my mom for Christmas last year. I hoped Kaia’s language was number two: Acts of Service.

  This morning I still hadn’t plugged in my laptop. I’d finally had a full night’s sleep and just wanted to keep the good vibes going. But as I arrived at school, something seemed off. Usually when I walked toward my locker in the morning I was ignored. But today, people were smiling at me. Someone high-fived me. Then another. Two guys from the basketball team congratulated me. Then, so did Mark, the class president, and even my art history teacher, who I was sure hated me. I mean, I knew my dance was good, but I wasn’t expecting this.

  It must be a prank! Steve had gotten everyone at school to be nice to me and then . . . what? Were they slapping stupid notes on my back? I felt around but nothing was there. Maybe they were snipping my hair secretly. But my hair looked okay in the awards case reflection. Was there some other level of humiliation I couldn’t conceive of? A lot of them had already seen me covered in vomit and with my diaper erection.

  I pushed through the crowd, looking for air and someone I could trust. Finally, near the entrance to the multipurpose room, I saw Kaia selling prom tickets. I started toward her, but she caught sight of me first.

  “Cam! Cam! Oh my god!” She stood up and rushed over to me.

  “What’s going on? Why are these people . . . ,” I asked, and kept watch for the prank I thought was still coming.

  “Didn’t you see the site this morning?”

  “What? No. My phone and laptop are dead.”

  “Dude, you did it!” She thrust her phone at me.

  “Did what?” Confused, I took it. SaveSteve.org was displayed and it said something truly insane.

  “The goal. We made it!” This couldn’t be right. I was sure her screen was broken. But Kaia kept explaining, “The video of your ‘Money’ dance went viral over the weekend! It’s got like sixty thousand views on YouTube and bits of it are blowing up on TikTok!”

  I stared at the ticker on-screen. We hadn’t just made our goal. We had blown right past it! It was now at $29,342.

  “There’s so much money,” I said, gaping at the screen.

  “I know. I can’t believe it, Cam. You saved Steve!” I put down the phone and looked at Kaia. She had tears in her eyes and a smile so wide that I thought little flying hearts would appear. This was exactly how I’d first imagined Kaia would look if I could somehow pull this off. I had done it. And she was looking at me. Like this.

  “And Cam . . . did you see?” Kaia took her phone back, excited. She flicked some windows and then handed it to me. “Look who retweeted your video.”

  “Furrydick15?” I read, confused.

  “Below that.” She pointed. “The one who watches over you at night!”

  And sure enough, right below Furrydick15, was . . .

  “Michelle . . . Oh . . . What the . . . Oh my god . . .” I started to hyperventilate. “Oh my god.”

  Kaia enjoyed watching my complete respiratory collapse and finished what I could not. “Michelle motherfuckin’ Obama!” Then she hugged me so hard I thought I would pop.

  Michelle Obama had retweeted me! Because of my dance! Because I’d raised thirty thousand dollars! Because I had saved Steve. Because I was amazing. And I was holding Kaia. My eyes welled. And this time, it was my tears that dropped on Kaia’s shoulder. Tears of joy and amazement.

  And victory.

  Steve was history.

  I ripped some tape from my roll and slapped the Save the Shark flyer to the lamppost. It was a good mindless task to do as I considered how to finally ask Kaia to prom. She might even be breaking up with Steve right now. I’d need to wait a little bit for the dust to settle, but not too long. Prom was just a few weeks away. And however I asked, it shouldn’t be something public. I’d done enough stunts for Steve. I didn’t want her to think I was just addicted to the spectacle. And she was in a tricky emotional space. I didn’t want it to look like I was too celebratory. It would need to be perfect. Maybe the wetlands! I could make a picnic, pull out a copy of The Uninhabitable Earth as a joke, and then just ask, “So, Kaia, I was wondering if you’d go to prom with me?” No, I needed to sound more confident. “Would you like to go to prom with me . . . How about—”

  “Hey there,” I heard from behind me, and a Natty Ice chill ran down my back. “Kaia said you might be out here.” Had he just heard what I was rehearsing? Had she just broken up with him? Was he here to kick my ass?

  “Oh, hey, Steve . . .” I tried to sound like I had no idea what was going on. “It’s been a while. I know because I haven’t been stung or stabbed or rolled in bodily fluids.”

  “You did that to yourself,” he said coolly.

  “Because I was trying to help you!”

  “Because you have a sequoia-sized boner for Kaia.”

  “I do not have—”

  “God. Just admit it, okay? You won. Congrats,” he said, a little defeated. Oh my god, she’d broken up with him. I was beginning to feel a little sequo
ia-sized. “I underestimated you and your little nice guy act. Kaia is barely speaking to me. Happy?” Hold on, that didn’t sound like a breakup. That sounded more like a fight.

  “Look. That’s not why I’m here.” Now I was totally confused. Why else would he be here? He seemed calm and a little tired. “I’m trying to be different. I’m trying . . . Well, I came here because . . . I just wanted to say . . . thanks, okay?”

  “What?” I said, and worried it sounded rude. But seriously, what the hell was going on?

  “The money. It really helped. My parents . . . Let’s just say it was nice to see my mom cry from happiness for a change.”

  No. No. I was not falling for this nice guy routine. I’d seen too many dicks scrawled on too many lockers to forget that quickly. I had a tattoo in Comic Sans on my ass. I was just going to play along and keep an eye open. “Oh. You’re welcome.”

  “And I have a favor to ask.” He quickly saw the massive amount of skepticism on my face. “Don’t be like that. It’s nothing bad.”

  “Sorry. For some reason I don’t trust you.”

  “Just . . . can you be at school a little early tomorrow?” I tilted my head sideways to clearly indicate, “Really?” He laughed. “It’s nothing bad. I promise.” The way he said it, with a hint of vulnerability and a tinge of apology, I couldn’t help but wonder if he actually meant it.

  Steve started to walk away but stopped, remembering something. “Oh, by the way,” he said, and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to me. “Here.” I stared at it for a moment, confused.

  “A free pass to the aqua park?”

  “They donated it to me. But I don’t want to support the shark.”

  “Then just throw it out.”

  “I wrote the password for the website on the back.” He pushed the ticket closer. “I’m done torturing you.” And then he walked away.

  I stared at the ticket for too long, trying to figure out what had just happened.

  Finally, I turned it over, revealing the words: CamIsAnA$$hole!!