by Julie Solano
At this point, my lack of activity makes me want to crawl in a hole, but my friends and family have been relentless about keeping me out of my gloomy bat cave. Since I’m no longer welcome at swim practice, I’ve been hanging out with the football team. I’ve helped my dad keep stats for the last two games. Unbelievably, we won our second playoff game and we made it to Championships. This was an incredible feat for the Mighty Miners, as they usually don’t go too far in the postseason. The last time our school saw a team this strong, was two decades ago when my parents were freshmen in high school. Unfortunately, we saw the end of our great run when we were stung by the Hornets last Friday night.
The excitement of playoffs eased some of the bitterness of not being able to swim at Masters. Though I was sad that I missed my last Varsity meet, I was ecstatic for my dad and his team. Making it to Championships put the spotlight on the boys, and both Caden and Brody got a lot of recognition for their stellar performances. The dynamic duo played exceptionally well in the Championship game. The Miners were actually up by three points until the very end of the fourth quarter, when Braden Williams fumbled the ball. It was picked up by a speedy little Hornet, who carried it all the way to the end-zone for the game winning touchdown. Despite the unfortunate outcome of that game, both Caden and Brody have been getting phone calls from various colleges in the region. Choosing where to play next year could be a tough decision for the boys. The Ducks are looking like a pretty strong possibility. I’m not so happy about that. Let’s face it, they have an awesome football team, but I’m not sure I want my boys playing for our greatest rivals next year.
The night the boys told me about the Duck’s recruiter, I didn’t take it well. I went straight to my room and put on all of my Beaver’s gear, hoping to convince them that beavers are much cuter animals than ducks. I always thought we’d be going to college together, and I certainly never dreamed that we’d be attending rival schools. Needless to say, I couldn’t let the topic die. I even got a little argumentative and aggressive.
I thought my attitude finally got the best of Brody, when he rushed off and told me he’d talk to me later. I sulked and pouted for hours in my room, thinking I’d finally driven him away for good. The hardest part was keeping my disappointment out of Caden’s view. He doesn’t know quite the depth of feelings I’ve developed for our best friend. Brody’s been doing a pretty great job of downplaying this thing we’ve got going on too.
After two hours reflecting on what my life might be like next year without the boys right beside me, I was on the verge of a teary breakdown. That’s when Brody showed up on my doorstep with a surprise. He took the time to bake me chocolate chip cookies from scratch, and brought them over just to make me feel better. He reminded me that Corvallis and Eugene aren’t even an hour apart . . . that’s less time than I spend at swim practice. He told me he could bake me cookies every weekend if I wanted and hand deliver them on Saturdays. He always knows the right things to say. That boy is really starting to tug at my heartstrings.
I’m reminded about his thoughtfulness almost every day. For Caden’s and my eighteenth birthday at the end of October, he has enlisted the help of the gang to have a barn dance out at the Mason Ranch in the valley. He talked to his grandparents and got it all set up. My parents offered to kick in some financial backing as long as they can join in and make it a big country birthday bash for all of our family and friends. Even Mason has joined in on getting the place ready. Jenna is driving me crazy with the planning. She’s totally into the fall harvest idea, and made me join Pinterest so she could send me the fifty-eight pins she finds every day. If nothing else, it will be decorated to a T.
Despite my bitter attitude about my limited abilities, the gang continues to work to keep me out of a funk. Peyton has played an especially big role in my mental recovery. She’s been my sidekick for the past week while Jenna has been tied up in Sacramento. Since my pain medicine won’t allow me to drive right now, Peyton’s been chauffeuring me around to buy supplies and decorations. Even though she maintains her ties to the Kitty Krew, in the time I’ve spent with her, I’ve found she is actually sweet. I have to admit Peyton’s insistence on my participation with implementing Jenna’s plan is keeping my mind off of swimming, and the other huge list of restrictions I’ve been barred from while my concussion heals.
(102) 004–0807:
Happy Birthday BFF!!!
MY BRAND NEW PHONE CHIMES with a text. I’m super excited that my parents gave it to me for an early birthday present. Yes, no more Dinophone!!! I think to myself as I hear the catchy new chime coming from my bedside table. I’m thrilled about the new technology; not to mention, I’ve been going crazy without my old phone that Officer Marnia confiscated to use as evidence against Pistol. The only bright side to that scenario is that it made it much easier to follow the doctor’s strict “no texting” orders. Quite frankly, I don’t see what texting has to do with a head injury, but what can I say? I’m a rule follower. Finally, my life is falling back into place. I look at the shiny new phone sitting in my hand. Since I couldn’t get any of the numbers to transfer from my old phone, I quickly add Jenna as a new contact.
Jenna (BFF):
You’d better get up! The boys are already at the ranch doing all the heavy lifting and dirty work. If we don’t get out there fast, they’re going to whip out the boxes of decorations . . . I can’t even imagine what they’ll do with those . . . All my Pinterest searches will be for nothing. WAKE UP!!!!
I try to sit up so I can respond, but my arm is still so stiff I’m finding it hard to roll out of bed . . .
Jenna (BFF):
I’ll be there in 10 minutes. And I’m not texting back . . . I’ll be driving.
I know Jenna is going to be annoyed with me since I haven’t even taken a shower yet. She’s a girl on a mission. No amount of fight in me is enough to hold her back when she wants to accomplish a task.
Me:
Hold your horses, Girlfriend . . . I’m just getting up! Now that I’m aging I need my beauty sleep.
Darn that girl wakes up early on weekends. Where does she get all of that energy?
After much struggle, I finally send off a second text.
Me:
Give me at least forty-five. I don’t want to look crusty tonight. I’ve got to take a shower and throw some clothes together to change into after we decorate. Besides, you never know which of those kitties is going to crash my party, and I don’t want to look like a scraggly scratch post if they show up.
My phone chimes again. This time, it’s from a different number.
(364) 277–4653:
Can’t wait to see you tonight. Bet you’ll look hot . . . like always.
Awww . . . Brody. He’s so sweet.
Ever since the attack, Brody has been extremely cautious. He still likes to joke around and flirt with me, but there’s a new softness in his voice and hesitation in his touch. It’s almost as though he’s checking to see if it’s okay with me that he still wants to be more than friends. I smile at the thought of how careful he’s been with me lately, as I add him into my contacts.
There’s so much pressure from Jenna to get ready, that I don’t text him back right away. I set my phone on the sink, and figure I’ll text him while I’m doing my hair and makeup.
I carefully slink my pajamas to the ground, and step into the shower. I do my best to wash my hair, but it’s still rough lifting my arm above my head. I’m in physical therapy, which is helping some, but I still get light headed when I overuse my arm. I’m frustrated and ticked off that Pistol did this to me. In fact, I’m frustrated and ticked off at life. I used to be able to complete a two thousand meter Fly, and now I can’t even lift my arm long enough to wash my hair. I try to subdue the bitterness around my family and friends, but I am so angry inside that sometimes the most innocent comments set me off. I’ve become the queen of the z-snap and sarcasm.
I’ve been trying to use my music as an escape, taking the time I’ve
been banned from swim practice, to play my guitar instead. It helps a little, but holding the guitar for too long hurts, and I find myself back in the same frame of mind, despising Pistol, and angry with all that he took from me. At least I haven’t had to see or hear from that jerk since the night he destroyed me. The police found him a couple days later at a party on Forest Mountain and served him his restraining order along with a citation for being a minor in possession of alcohol. Lucky bastard. Someone must’ve found him hog tied to that wheel line and cut him loose.
As I scrub my hair, I imagine shoving a hot poker up his ass. I continuously think of new ways to get revenge on that jerk. I know it’ll never happen, at least not to the extent that I hope; but one can dream. My vindictive vision of fiery hot pokers is interrupted by the chime of several more texts, one right after the other. Wow, the phone is blowing up this morning . . . Probably Facebook birthday messages.
I get out of the shower and pull my towel around me. I’m curious about all of the dinging I heard in the shower, so I make my way over to my phone to find several new messages. Shoot. I don’t know who any of them are from. There are just a bunch of unknown numbers.
(364) 539–1212:
Happy Birthday! Hope your day is as fabulous as you are.
(364) 305–0708:
Happy Birthday Sexy Doll.
(286) 774–3563:
Are you really Eighteen today? Wow . . . my little niece is growing up.
(108) 411–0926:
Grammie and Grampie are sending you love today, Honey!
(364) 577–7622:
Happy Birthday, you Hamburger!!! Make a wish to get that arm healed! I need you back on this team.
1 (997) 426–1025:
I made you another batch of chocolate chip cookies!!! See you tonight. Save me a dance.
I start decoding the birthday messages and adding all of the well-wishers to my new contacts. Hmmm. Not sure who the first one is. I’ll have to message them to find out . . . Or the second. That’s interesting. Sexy Doll? Hmmmm. Oh, Auntie Lori. I can add her. Grammie and Grampie. That’s sweet. Oh, Coach Hendryx. That was nice. And Brody . . . Hmmm. Thought I added him. Must not have saved.
I re-enter all of my contacts, making sure to save all of them this time. I’m taking way too much time with my new phone, and I know Jenna is going to be busting down my door any second. I decide to chuck the phone into my bag and get ready. I run to the closet and pull on a t-shirt and some yoga pants. Then I choose my Buckle jeans and western boots to wear tonight. I quickly shove them into my overnight bag. I want to stick with the cute country theme Jenna came up with for the party. I throw in my sparkly white, lacy tank top and call it good on my outfit.
I’m struggling to put on my horseshoe necklace when Jenna throws open the door. “Are you ready Birthday Girl?” she shouts.
“Still working on my hair and make-up. Help me with this, will ya?”
Jenna comes over and helps me put on my necklace.
“You know this charm is getting a little old. Aren’t you ready to try something new? Maybe something that says . . . I’m eighteen?” she asks as she clasps it around my neck.
“No way. This lucky necklace is a part of me.” I lift the horseshoe to my mouth, sliding the U shape over my lip out of habit. I pull it back off and twist it in my fingers, until I finally drop it back to my chest. “I’ve worn it for every memorable event I’ve been to since the day Brody gave it to me . . . I can’t explain it. It’s like a security blanket or something.” I shake my head. “Maybe I’m superstitious, but this necklace just makes me feel . . . safe.”
“Okay, enough said.” Jenna says, raising her hands to show me she’s backing off. “Hey, do you need help with your hair? You can’t even lift your arm, and we need to get out of here.”
In true Jenna fashion, she pulls the brush from my hand and proceeds to help me with my hair and makeup until I look like I just stepped out of a country music video. “There. You look Hot! I hope some of those kitties actually show up, so they can see exactly why Brody’s going to ask you to dance on the hood of his daddy’s tractor tonight,” she giggles air quoting the lyrics, as she continues to sing the chorus of Luke’s Country Girl song.
I finish putting on my lipgloss, grab my bag of party clothes, throw in my make-up, and head down the hall with Jenna. “See you tonight, Mom.” I lean in giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Have fun getting that barn dance ready Birthday Girl!” my mom smiles, and sends me on my way. “See you in a few hours.”
We jump in Jenna’s car and she double honks the horn, waving at my mom before we head down the street. It’s a brisk fall morning, but the pristine blue sky is the perfect backdrop to accentuate the fall colors that paint the mountain landscape. As we head over the hill toward the valley, I’m glad to see that this part of the forest was left untouched. It was a rough fire season in the area, and hundreds of acres were destroyed by several wildfires. As a matter of fact, the road is still clogged with the traffic of all the workers breaking down the fire camps. Jenna taps her foot impatiently as we get stuck behind a line of Cal Fire trucks heading back over the hill on the one lane highway. “It’s okay Jenna. We’ve got time.”
“Not really!” she squeals. “I was supposed to pick up Peyton a half hour ago. Can you call her and tell her we’re on our way?”
I grab my phone from my bag, and look at the line of unknown numbers, reminding me, that I no longer have Peyton’s contact information. “I would, but I don’t have any contacts. I spent twenty minutes this morning trying to decode who was sending me birthday texts.”
“Here, use mine.” Jenna hands me her phone, and I scroll down to Peyton’s name and hit dial.
“Hello?” Peyton’s perky, little voice sings.
“Hey Peyton. It’s Kaitlyn. We’re headed over the hill now. It’s a little slow with fire trucks and road construction, but we’ll be there as soon as we can, k?”
“No problem, Kait! I’m so excited to spend the day celebrating with you and Caden. Thanks for including me today!”
“After all the creative ideas you came up with, and the time you spent getting this ready, I wouldn’t dream of not having you there with us to get the place decorated.”
“Awww, I’ve loved every second of it, Sis. I’m gonna finish my hair real quick before you get here. We’ll talk more in the car. See you soon.”
We hang up the phone and I turn to Jenna. “You know. I would’ve never thought Peyton was so sweet. She has been amazing through this entire recovery. Do you know she brought us all dinner the other night just to give my mom a break? By the way, her lasagna is mouth-watering.” I pause momentarily, “I think she and my brother are getting pretty serious . . . she just called me Sis.”
“Really?” Jenna replies, scrunching up her nose. “Well, just don’t go swapping out best friends on me!”
“Never . . . You’re my BFF til the end.”
We pull up in front of Peyton’s house and she comes bouncing out like Santa Claus. She has an armful of gifts, including a shiny box adorned with a big turquoise and white polka-dotted bow. Bouncing blonde hair and a shiny white smile peek out from behind the packages. Jenna looks over at me with a grimace. “Well, Forever BFF . . . I’m still waiting on your present . . .” Jenna groans, looking embarrassed that she’s been outdone by my new “sister.”
“Got ya something!” Peyton hands the package over the seat as she slides in the car.
“You didn’t have to, really!” I squeal, grabbing it out of her hand. “Do you mind if I open it right now? I’m really not good at waiting for surprises . . .”
Peyton laughs, “I know. Caden told me. That’s why I hannnnded it to you right away.”
When I peel off the wrapping paper, I see an adorable polka dotted frame that matches my bedroom. Centered at the bottom, in fancy script, it reads “Good times, Great friends, Amazing Memories.” A collage of pictures reveals some of my favorite memories o
f the gang. As I glimpse across the top, I smile at the photo of all of us standing around a bonfire. Another picture is from late spring when we ditched school and hiked Shackleford Trail. I’m surprised to see one of Brody and me mid-air, holding hands, jumping off Kelsey Creek Bridge. Another is all five of us sitting on the tailgate after mudding in Caden’s truck. Highlighting the collage, the largest picture is Jenna and me goofing off after Championships with our high point medals wrapped across our foreheads.
“I got some of the pictures off of Caden’s computer. I hope you don’t mind,” Peyton smiles hesitantly.
“I love it Peyton! This is the cutest gift ever!” I grab her, and pull her through the space in the front seats, for a warm hug. Then she turns to Jenna and pulls out another package from behind her back.
“I hope you like it too Jenna. Cuz I made you a matching one.” She smiles, handing it to her.
I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve seen Jenna speechless. Her eyes widen and I can see the glossy tears start to form. She quickly sucks the tears back in, with her tough girl magic, and pulls Peyton in for a hug, “Welcome to the family, Sis!” she laughs. At that, Peyton tears up too.
“So do you guys think Caden will like his birthday gift too? It’s a little more manly than yours, but I did my best to highlight the last couple months with him.”
“Oh, he’s going to love it Peyton. I’m sure it will go right on his wall as soon as he gets home,” I reassure her.
“Ya, that kid could never get enough of looking at himself,” Jenna bursts out laughing.
“Come on now, cut him some slack, it’s his birthday,” I interrupt, feeling a little guilty for talking about my brother like that.
