First, Last, and Always

by Lehman, Kim

  “Miles,” she says, turning her head in between pings. “Do you think next year will be the same as this year?”

  “No,” I say honestly, looking back at her. The sides of both of our faces touch the deck. “Next year we’ll be sophomores.”

  She laughs. “I know that. But I mean, do you think anything else will change?”

  There are aspects that I would definitely like to change, but all I say is, “I don’t know.”

  She doesn’t like my answer. Her smile disappears. “I hope it does,” she says with sadness.

  “What would you change?” I’m not sure what she means.

  Shifting her gaze upward again, she responds definitively, “Everything.”

  I know what I would change.

  “Hey,” she says turning her head to look at me again. “How’s your dad? You never mentioned his visit.”

  “It didn’t happen,” I tell her. “He never showed.”

  There’s a long silence before she asks, “You okay?”

  “I’m dealing.”

  “Did he say why?” she asks.

  “He never even called.”

  “Brutal,” she whispers.

  “The worst,” I agree.

  There’s another long silence and then, “I hate him for you,” she says.

  “I want to hate him,” I admit, “but I can’t.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re awesome.”

  My chest lifts.

  “He doesn’t deserve to have you for a son,” she adds.

  We’re both quiet for a while.

  “You know what I want?” she says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I want to fall in love,” she says.

  Our eyes lock. My pulse stops. I don’t say anything.

  “Is it stupid to want that so much?”

  “No.”

  We both turn our heads again, lifting our arms at the same time. “Ping,” we chime in unison.

  “I think we shot the same one,” she says, laughing gently, her voice tired and weak.

  “I think you’re right.”

  Both of our hands fall, landing by our sides, our fingers brush. My heart is erratic—fast slow, stop, go. Perspiration builds under my armpits. Keeping my eyes straight ahead on the night sky, I follow a silhouette of a winged creature—a bird, a bat, I can’t tell exactly, but it swoops, creating upside-down half-moons, like it’s painting frowns. It’s as if it knows what’s going on in my head, chastising me for being weak, for not saying the words that are on my tongue, dying to spring off.

  I watch the winged creature for another moment before closing my eyes. A large knot forms in my throat. Lani’s voice screeches in my thoughts: Tell her! I have a mental battle in my mind for a few more minutes between the voice of Lani and my chickenshit self. Finally, gulping, I attempt to swallow my insecurities. As scared as I am, I know the opportunity is right. My mind is racing, trying to come up with something to say.

  “I’m scared too,” I finally say, clearing my throat. “I’ve been scared to tell you something for a while.” I’m shaking. Deep breath. “I’m not sure how you’re going to react.” Breathing is underrated. “But I’m just going to say it anyway.” I gulp again. “’Cause I have to get it out.” I can’t believe I’m going through with this—that I’m really going to say it. “I...” Deep breath. “I have feelings for you. What I mean is...I like you.” Am I seven? “I mean, I’m in love with you.” I shut my eyes.

  It wasn’t perfect, but it’s done. I give her time to respond. I listen to the rustling of the branches in the breeze, a night owl hooting in the distance. Two of the longest minutes of my life pass by, and the entire time Charlotte says nothing. Beside me, she doesn’t move. I can’t look at her. It’s worse than I imagined. The fact that she’s not saying anything feels like nails in a coffin. What have I done? What does she think of me? Slowly my head turns. I need to see her expression, her eyes. It’s going to be bad; that much I know—I just don’t know how bad. When I lock onto her face, my brow furrows, and my heart rises from the pit of my stomach.

  She hasn’t heard a thing, not one single word. She’s sound asleep.

  I could have watched her sleep all night, but an hour later, when my own eyelids start to get heavy, I wake her up. “Charlotte?” I say, nudging her arm. “Charlotte?”

  “Huh?” It takes her a moment to open her eyes. Looking around, I can tell it takes another second for her to remember where she is. “How long was I asleep?” she asks, groggy.

  “A while.”

  She yawns. “Best company ever,” she garbles out sarcastically.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her.

  She sits up and stretches her arms overhead. “What did I miss? What were we talking about?”

  The base of my neck heats up. The adrenaline pumping through my bloodstream wore off a long time ago. All the courage I had blew up with the stars. “I don’t remember.”

  She sighs and blinks her tired eyes. “Well, I guess I should go inside.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “I should get home.”

  “Call me tomorrow?” she says.

  “Sure,” I answer.

  Taking the cake, she waves good-bye and tiptoes away, but not before she tells me I’m the best friend a girl could ever ask for.

  It’s just what I always wanted to never hear.

  13

  Miles

  I can’t sleep at all after I got home from Charlotte’s house. I keep pacing in my room wishing I had said something else when she woke up. She started the conversation and I could have breezily said, “Hey, what a coincidence! You want to be in love and I want to love you. Sounds like we’re made for each other don’t you think?”

  All right, maybe those aren’t the words I should have said, but the point is, the line was tossed out and I didn’t bite. The conversation I want to say always seems to go well in my head until the point at which the words are supposed to come out of my mouth. I’m like a baby who’s not ready to eat solid foods for the first time, and instead of processing the words, I gag.

  The digital clock switches from eleven fifty-nine to noon. It’s been eight hours since I left Charlotte’s house. Picking up the phone, I dial her number. I have to see her again.

  Before it rings, my finger hits the red button: END

  I stare at her number for a moment. What if I tell her and she laughs at me? No. Charlotte isn’t that mean. I dial again. It rings once.

  END.

  What if I tell her and she doesn’t like me back? I swallow, debating the probability of this result for at least ten minutes. If she doesn’t like me that would suck, but then I would know, right? Right. Okay. I dial again.

  What if I tell her and not only does she not like me, but she decides not to be friends anymore? This was the same fear I had in third grade. It’s clearly the worst-case scenario. But I just don’t see this happening anymore. We’ve been through so much since then. We’ll always be friends. I’m sure of that.

  Deep breath. Dial. Ring...

  Charlotte

  I reach a hand out from under the blankets and grab the phone. “Hello,” I say.

  “You still asleep?”

  “Miles?” My voice is groggy.

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s one o’clock.”

  “In the morning?” I yawn.

  “No. One in the afternoon.”

  “Oh.” I groan as I stretch my arms overhead. “Hey,” I say, still sleepy, “I had this great dream that someone delivered a cake in the middle of the night.”

  He laughs. “You busy? I wanted to see if you had time to meet.”

  “I think my mom has something planned for today,” I tell him. “She said something about wanting to take me to some sale with her. She wants to buy me something else for my birthday. I guess she feels bad about dinner.” Rubbing my eyes, I sit up in bed. “I should get up and see what’s going on.”

 
; “What about later? After shopping?” Miles asks.

  “I think after the mall I’m supposed to clean my room. Believe it or not, I’m actually more excited to clean my room than go shopping.” I chuckle at my own joke. Silence lingers on the line. With another yawn, I look down at the phone. Were we disconnected?

  “Charlotte?” Miles says a moment later.

  He’s still there. “I thought I lost you,” I say.

  “No.”

  Another pause.

  “Miles, you okay?”

  “I was hoping to see you. There was something else I wanted to tell you last night and I never got the chance.”

  “Last night? Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  I wait for him to finish, ’cause it feels like he’s about to say more.

  “I don’t really want to talk about it over the phone,” he explains.

  He’s making me nervous, but I’m pretty sure I know what this is about. “All right, well, if we don’t talk today, how ’bout we talk tomorrow morning on the bus?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it with you on the bus.”

  “If it’s really important, can you just tell me now?” I ask. I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s about to tell me about him and Lani. I can practically feel the nervous energy through the phone.

  “I...,” He hesitates. “I guess.”

  Beep.

  “It sounds serious. Is it serious?” I wonder, hoping he’ll give me more of a hint.

  Beep.

  “I think it is.”

  It’s definitely about Lani.

  Beep.

  “Shoot. Sorry, Miles. There’s a call on the other line. Can you hold for a minute? Let me just get rid of whoever it is.” I click over. “Hello?”

  “Hi.”

  I don’t recognize the voice. “Hi?” I say curiously.

  “Is this Charlotte?”

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “It’s Grayson.”

  My eyes get big; my jaw drops; I hold the phone away from my face, leap out of bed, and begin jumping around my room. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Slowly I return the phone to my ear.

  “Charlotte? You still there?” Grayson’s phone voice is huskier than it is in person. He sounds older.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I’m calling. My mom got the number from your mom when they were in the grocery store.”

  “I don’t mind.” Do I sound calm?

  “Well, I was calling because...” He clears his throat. “I know I was joking in class when I said we planned to study, but the truth is, I’m really not doing that well in algebra and I could definitely use some help. Your mom said you were really good at this stuff, and so I thought...”

  He thought what? I’m so nervous. Is he saying what I think he is? “Yeah?”

  “Would you mind helping me study for the next exam?”

  He is!

  Because I am mentally incapacitated, I respond by saying absolutely nothing for ten long seconds. My fists clench and my eyes seal shut. I take a moment to get my emotions under control.

  “If you can’t, it’s cool,” Grayson says. “I just thought—”

  “No!” It comes out sounding like a moan. Immediately I cringe. “I mean, it’s not a problem. I can help.”

  “Great.”

  Lying down on my floor, I kick my legs in the air.

  “So, you want to talk about getting together tomorrow?” I hear him say with the phone inches from my ear.

  “Tomorrow?” I’m feeling delirious. “You want to get together tomorrow?”

  “Well, I thought we could just talk about it more tomorrow, but yeah, that might work too.”

  Everything is processing in slow motion. “Uh-huh. Sure.” There’s a heavy knock on my door.

  “Charlotte?” Mom says.

  Covering the receiver, I shout back, “Be right there, Mom. I’m on the phone.”

  “Hurry up,” she says. “I want to leave for that sale in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay!” I shout, taking a deep breath and getting back on the line. “Sorry about that.” My voice sounds higher than usual.

  “Your mom?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you have to get off the phone?”

  “In a sec.”

  “Sounds like my house. My mom is always bugging me too.” He laughs. “It’s so weird our moms went to school together, huh?”

  I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with Grayson Miller. “Yeah.” I chuckle. “Crazy.”

  “You know, the other day after we saw you in the store, my mom told me that the two of them—my mom and your mom—once went to a party where they competed in a keg-stand contest.”

  “My mom?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “No way.” I laugh. “That doesn’t sound like my mom at all.”

  “I thought the same thing about mine. I couldn’t believe she told me that. It was disturbing. Hey, I saw your friend Miles in the hall the other day. Seemed like he was doing a lot better.”

  Oh! Miles! I left him on the other line. “Grayson, can you hold on a sec?”

  “Sure.”

  Click.

  “Miles?”

  “Still here,” he says.

  “Miles, you’ll never believe who’s on the other line.”

  “From the sound of your voice, it’s either a celebrity or someone calling to tell you you’ve won the lottery.”

  “It’s Grayson!” There’s a long pause. “Miles?”

  “Sorry. For a second I thought you said Grayson was on the other line.”

  “I did!”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m freaking out. He just asked me if we could get together. He wants me to help him study.”

  “Wow.”

  “And now we’re talking.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know. Anyway, do you mind if I take this call and catch up with you when I get back later?”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I’ll tell you how it goes. I can’t wait.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Oh...hey, was there something you wanted to tell me? Can you say it real quick?” I should probably tell him I already know, but I don’t want to ruin the moment.

  “Ya know, now that I think about it, it’s really not that important. It’s stupid, actually.”

  “You sure?”

  There’s a short pause. “Yeah.”

  I wish he would just tell me. “Well, if you change your mind and want to talk about anything, let me know.”

  “Okay. I will.”

  I sigh into the phone. “Miles, I can’t believe Grayson called. This is the best birthday ever.”

  “Yep. It’s pretty awesome.”

  Miles

  Since I was old enough to walk, I believed that wishes could come true if you saw a shooting star, threw a penny in a well, blew out all the candles on a birthday cake, or if you just wanted it badly enough. Even when a wish didn’t happen right away, I’d keep on wishing. Every repeat wish strengthened the one before, improving my chances that it would actually happen.

  Today at one o’clock in the afternoon, every shooting star I ever wished on turned to dust, every penny tossed never landed, every dream on a burning candle fizzled into melting wax, and I discovered that just wanting something badly enough doesn’t get you anywhere at all.

  When Lani picks up the phone, she doesn’t bother to say hello. “You’d better have something good to tell me.”

  “You were right. I waited too long.”

  “What happened?”

  “He called her.”

  “Grayson?”

  “Yeah. I think he likes her. I think he’s going to ask her out.”

  “Miles, you have to tell her.”

  “I tried,” I admit.

  “You did?”

  “Last night. It was a complete failure.”

  “Well, you have to tr
y again.”

  “I know.” I sigh.

  “When?”

  Good question. “Tomorrow. After school,” I decide. “I’ll ask her to come over when we’re on the bus.”

  14

  Charlotte

  On Monday, when Grayson plops down next to me in class he leans across the aisle. “Hey,” he says in a sly, mysterious tone.

  “Hi?” I’m sure I’m imagining things when the next thing he does is scoot his desk closer to mine. And I’m definitely dreaming a moment later, when his hand reaches into his pocket, pulls out a folded piece of paper, and he slides it across the desk to me.

  I glance down and then look at him curiously. He nods for me to open it. As I handle the paper, my heart is racing. Unfurling the corners, I wonder what’s on the inside. When I have it flat, I look down at a series of broken straight lines, and a picture of what appears to be an upside-down L. When I realize what it is, a chuckle escapes my lips.

  Hangman.

  Nervously, I decide to accept the challenge and take a minute to debate which letter I’ll guess first. R? I write, and discreetly pass the note. There’s a time lapse while he checks my letter and passes the paper back. I look down. First letter is correct. He filled it in on the appropriate line. R is the second-to-last letter in the first word. Okay. Hmm. T? I guess. Pass. Pass back. Wrong. My head is noosed. B? I write. Correct. N? Incorrect. My torso is stick-thin. Probably the only time in my life I’ll be able to say that. S? Correct. First and last letter of the last word. Hmm. Another incorrect. An arm juts out from my stick-thin body. We do this for a while. He makes funny faces when I get it wrong. I can’t stop smiling.

  After fifteen minutes, I have guessed only a few correct letters. I’m one wrong guess away from hangman. The page has the following:

  _ L G _ B R _

  S _ C _ S!

  “Oh!” I shout. “Algebra sucks!”

  Everyone in class turns to look at me and chuckles.

  Oops. Probably should have kept that to myself. Glancing to my right, I notice Grayson is chuckling too. I feel my face turning red. Ms. Ming stops talking, crosses her arms in front of her, and glares. “Well, Ms. Hubbard, we all thank you for your announcement, but I suggest that if you want to maintain your A in my class, you keep your opinions to yourself going forward?”