by Jay Asher
She gave me her cell number because she wants me to call, but what if this is too much too soon? Calling her right now could ruin everything. If we’re meant to be together, it needs to happen naturally. I step onto my board and skate away, licking my ice cream to distract myself.
Or maybe I’m just being chicken.
At the first corner, I bend my knees and take a right.
If I was heading home, I would’ve gone straight.
38://Emma
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND why you’re forcing me to eat ice cream,” Kellan says, staring at the menu above the concession stand at the lake. “I’m craving a slushie.”
“Because I’m the one with the money.” I lift my sunglasses so I can read the flavors. “Besides, ice cream is healthier.”
“Healthier how?”
“It’s high in calcium,” I say. When my stepmom was pregnant, she talked about needing a lot of calcium.
“What’ll it be, girls?” asks the woman behind the counter.
“I’ll have strawberry,” I say, grabbing a handful of napkins, “with rainbow sprinkles.”
Kellan turns to me. “Pretty please, slushie?”
I shake my head.
“Fine,” she says. “Then cookie dough.”
While the woman leans into the ice cream tubs, Kellan says, “I don’t get why everyone’s so concerned about my eating habits. First Tyson, now you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Since when are you and Tyson on good enough terms to discuss how you eat?”
Kellan waves off my question. “We’ve always been on good terms.”
“Do I have to remind you how much he irritates you? Or about those two weeks you missed school?”
Kellan reaches for her cookie dough cone. “Did you know love and hate share the same nervous circuits in the brain?”
“So now you love him again?”
“I didn’t say that. I was just stating a fact.”
We walk across the sand, licking our ice creams.
“I feel like you’re keeping things from me,” I say.
“Like what?” Kellan asks.
I step around some little boys building a sand castle. I watch them fill the moat with a small bucket of lake water and I wonder if Kevin Storm and I will still have two sons tonight.
“You wouldn’t tell me why you went to the doctor today.”
“I know,” Kellan says. “It’s just that I feel weird talking about it.”
“The only reason I’m asking is because I care about you.”
Kellan licks a drip off her cone. “Okay, I went back to that therapist I saw after Tyson and I broke up. I hadn’t seen her in a few months, so it was just a check-in.”
“Well, I’m really glad you went,” I say. “Thanks for telling me that.”
We sit on our towels and finish our ice creams in silence. With the puzzle of her doctor visit solved, there’s something else we need to discuss. My mind races to fabricate a believable story.
“I was in the school nurse’s office today,” I say, “and you’ll never believe what I saw.”
“Why did you go to the nurse?” Kellan asks.
“I cut myself on a music stand in band. It’s fine. Anyway, this girl came in asking for a condom. Did you know the school nurse gives out free condoms?”
“You and I had health together,” Kellan says. “I was there for the free condom talk.”
“Oh, right.”
“So who was it?” she asks.
“Who was what?”
“The girl asking for the condom.”
“Some senior. I don’t know her name.”
“Not that I need a condom,” Kellan says, “but I definitely wouldn’t get one from school. Who wants the nurse knowing all your business?”
I see my chance and I move in quickly. “How would you get a condom if you needed one?”
She considers my question, but doesn’t give an answer. I can tell by the way she’s shifting on her towel that I’m on the verge of losing her.
“Want to hear a secret?” I ask. “But you can’t tell anyone.”
Kellan crosses her heart.
“Last summer, when Josh’s brother came home to visit, Josh told me he stole a condom from David’s toiletries bag. He stashed it in his wallet, in case he ever needs it.”
Kellan cracks up. “Why do guys carry ratty old condoms in their wallets? When they finally get around to using them, they’re either expired or worn out.”
I instantly feel guilty for selling Josh out, even though he’s been infuriating me today. It was for a good cause, putting the idea in Kellan’s mind of always carrying a condom, but it’s not the kind of thing Josh would want getting spread around.
KELLAN’S IN THE WATER, and I’m sitting on my towel, my sunglasses hiding my eyes. A half mile across Crown Lake is a huge house with a wraparound porch, a beautifully manicured lawn, and a dock with two kayaks.
I recognize that house from the night I saw Josh’s Facebook page. Someday, he’ll live there with Sydney. They’ll go boating and have barbeques. His children will grow up rich and privileged and Josh will eventually get sucked into that world, too.
“Hey there,” Kellan says. She shakes the sand off her towel and then wraps it around her waist.
I pull my legs to my chest and point across the lake. “Do you know who lives in that house?”
“The one with the big porch?” she asks, shielding her eyes with her hand. “I don’t think anyone from school.”
“Do you think Sydney’s family could afford a house like that?”
“Sydney Mills?” Kellan sits next to me and unscrews the cap of her Sprite. “Why is everyone talking about her recently?”
I shake my head. “I think Josh might be interested in her.”
“I thought you were joking about that the other day,” Kellan says. “No offense to Josh, but she’s a little out of his league. Has he ever even talked to her?”
“Actually, my very first instant message was from Sydney,” I say, resting my chin against my knees. “She was asking for his phone number.”
Kellan spits a mouthful of Sprite onto her legs. “Did she call him yet?”
“I know I’m the one who brought it up,” I say, “but do you mind if we not talk about this?”
“Okay,” Kellan says, “but I need to talk to you about something.”
My heart races. Is she finally going to admit she’s been having sex? If she does, that’ll force me to make a huge decision. Either I admit to Kellan what I saw on Facebook, or I shake her by the shoulders and tell her she’d better be using protection.
“I’ve been thinking about you and Josh,” she says.
I burrow my feet in the sand. This isn’t the conversation I thought we were about to have.
“I know it got weird between you guys last fall,” she says. “But this week, things have seemed . . . different.”
“Like how?”
“You finally seemed to be getting close again, but then today at lunch you both had your claws out.”
I wiggle my toes so they peek up from the sand.
“Let me put it this way,” Kellan says. “Now that Graham’s over with, do you ever . . . you know . . .?”
“What?”
“I’m serious.”
“No!” I shriek. “Josh is . . . Josh.”
“Because other girls are starting to notice that he’s a really good guy. There’s the girl we saw in the office. And now you’re telling me Sydney Mills asked for his number.” Kellan removes the cap from her Sprite again. “If there’s even a small part of you that ever wondered what Josh would be like as more than a friend, maybe you should think about doing something before it’s too late.”
As Kellan takes a sip, I stare at Josh’s future house on the other side of the lake.
After a minute, I make myself look away.
39://Josh
I SKATE PAST A YELLOW HOUSE with a tire swing out front. A Chihuahua scampers through the ya
rd and starts yipping after me. If I slow down to take the next turn, he’ll catch me. While I’m not afraid of him nipping my ankles, his bony head is the size of one of my wheels and I don’t need that type of guilt.
By now, my ice cream is gone. I fling the remainder of my sugar cone toward the dog and it shatters on the sidewalk. As he stops to nibble a shard, I round the corner and coast toward the intersection. Across the street, Sydney’s convertible is still parked and empty.
I roll up to a lamppost and hug my arm around it to keep from drifting. The traffic light changes and I could cross to the other side. When Sydney comes out of the comic book store, I could be waiting at her car.
Instead, I skate over to a vending machine and buy a can of root beer.
BY MY SECOND ROOT BEER, I’ve skated around the block four times and I have a major sugar rush going on. When I round the final corner again, I decide that if Sydney is walking to her car, I’ll go over and say hi. If she’s already left, then I’ll bolt for the nearest restroom.
When the parking lot comes into view, I see her convertible pulling onto the street.
Decision time!
I skate hard toward the pay phone, and then kick the tail of my board to flip it upside down. I lift the receiver and, with shaking fingers, dial Sydney’s cell phone number.
It’s ringing!
Her car is stopped at a red light. I can see her lift her backpack onto her lap.
Answer it!
She brings her cell phone to her ear. “Hello?”
The light turns green and her car begins driving through the intersection.
“Sydney!” I’ve had way too much sugar. “It’s Josh. I think I . . . are you . . .?”
“Josh Templeton?” she asks.
“Are you driving?” I ask. “Because I was sitting here eating ice cream and I think I just saw you.”
I watch her glance toward the sidewalk. “Where are you? I didn’t know you had a cell phone.”
“Pull over,” I say. “I’ll be right there.”
“Okay,” she says, and her turn signal begins flashing.
I hang up the phone, jump on my board, and skate across the street toward her car.
The passenger window is down, and I rest my elbows on the door. She smiles at me and undoes her ponytail, her hair falling like ribbons over her silky blue shirt.
“Do you live near here?” she asks.
I nod in the direction of the ice cream shop. “No, but I had an intense craving for rocky road.”
“I love ice cream,” she says. “So where are you headed? Can I give you a ride?”
“I’m just going home,” I say. “I live over by the playground in Wagner Park.”
Sydney glances at her watch. “I need to be back on this side of town in twenty minutes, but that should give us enough time.”
I’ve never climbed into a beautiful girl’s convertible before. For a moment, I think about vaulting over the door, but then sanity kicks in. I fit my skateboard into the small backseat while Sydney puts on her blinker and gradually changes lanes.
“You can toss your bag in the back,” she says, adjusting her rearview mirror. “I know there’s not a lot of room up front.”
Before stopping by Dad’s office, I bought a three-pack of my own boxers. It’s not like Sydney’s going to unzip my backpack and see the boxers, but until she mentioned it I hadn’t realized I was hugging my bag so tight.
“Where do you have to be in twenty minutes?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t throw out a boy’s name.
“Home,” she says.
Yes!
“A woman’s coming over to show my family a slideshow, trying to get us to buy into a time-share package,” she says. “My parents aren’t very interested, but my sisters and I have been begging them to check it out. Plus, if you sit through the presentation, you get a gift card to the Olive Garden.”
“I love their breadsticks,” I say.
Sydney looks at me and smiles. “Me too!”
She’s gorgeous. I mean gorgeous. From her perfect face to her soft, tan skin and glossy hair. She’s wearing a skirt, which shows off her amazingly smooth legs. How am I allowed to sit in this car?
At my feet there’s a red plastic bag from Comix Relief. I nudge it over with my sneaker to keep from stepping on it.
“I picked those up for my dad,” she says. “It’s his birthday this weekend, so I bought a few of his favorite Archie comics.”
“I used to be an Archie freak,” I say.
She laughs. “Figures.”
“Why? Because we both have red hair?”
“I didn’t even think of that,” she says. “But I’m convinced all guys secretly worship Archie. He’s this average boy with two beautiful girls fighting over him. Don’t tell me that’s not every guy’s fantasy.”
One beautiful girl would be enough for me.
“Both of my sisters’ fiancés collect comics,” she continues. “Sometimes my dad tags along when they attend conventions, but they’re more into the mutant and superhero comics. Personally, I think the good guys like Archie.”
She is such a daddy’s girl. It’s kind of cute. I wonder if they’ll still be going to comic conventions when I join the family. Even though it would be cheesy, I’d go along.
We stop at a light and Sydney turns toward me. “Thank you for what you said in class the other day, about being considerate.”
“Human decency,” I say, groaning.
She nods and eases onto the gas. “I know you were just speaking your mind, but in a way it felt like you were defending me. So thanks.”
“Not a problem.”
Sydney smiles as she pushes her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, I’m excited about these time-shares. You get to spend a few weeks a year at some of the coolest locations in the world. Have you ever been to Acapulco? We went in February and it was beautiful.”
Acapulco? That’s one of the places Sydney and I go in the future. Does this slideshow she’s about to see lead to time-shares where we take our vacations?
“Have you ever been to Waikiki?” I ask. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”
Sydney looks over at me, her eyes wide. “They have time-shares in Waikiki! Okay, now I really want my parents to buy in. They even have jumbo condos where it could be a family reunion every time we go.”
Waikiki. Acapulco. When I read about Sydney and my vacations, I imagined we’d be alone, drinking fruity drinks and having sex in exotic locations. Now it seems like our trips involve a house overflowing with her family. Not that I wouldn’t go. As long as I get time alone with Sydney, I’m there.
Up ahead, the road gradually rises where it meets the train tracks.
“Do you know what to do when you drive over train tracks?” Sydney asks.
“Of course,” I say.
As the car bumps over the tracks, we both lift our feet off the floor.
“Feet-up-a-loo!” I shout.
Sydney laughs as the road descends. “Feet-up-a-what?”
“Feet-up-a-loo,” I say, my face getting warm. “Everyone knows that.”
“I don’t think so,” Sydney says, smiling. “Everyone knows you lift your feet and make a wish.”
I’m tempted to ask her what she wished for, but maybe I don’t want to know. Or maybe I do, but if she tells me it won’t come true.
40://Emma
AFTER DROPPING KELLAN OFF, I drive along the east side of Wagner Park, heading home.
If Kellan says she has no use for condoms, then she’s not even anticipating going all the way soon. When I get home, I need to tell Josh everything so we can figure out what to do. I just hope he’s gotten over today’s ego kick.
After the stoplight, I turn up the block toward my house. A white convertible is parked at the curb by Josh’s house. It’s Sydney’s car! And Josh is in the passenger seat.
As I go past them and pull into my driveway, I can almost hear Sydney’s voice saying, “Is that Emma Nelson?” I bet Josh won’t
tell her we’ve been friends since we were little. And that omission will be the first stone in the wall he builds around his precious life with Sydney.
I reach into my backseat for the swimsuits and towels, and then step outside, slamming the car door much harder than I intended.
ONCE I GET TO MY ROOM, I look out the window. Sydney’s convertible is still there. Josh tells her something and she laughs like he’s the funniest guy in the world.
I peel off my sandy clothes, toss them into the laundry basket, and then pull on my robe. When Josh comes up here, I want to immediately check Facebook and see how everything that happened today affected our futures. I bet as soon as Sydney drives away, he’ll be knocking at my door.
To get ready, I dial up to AOL. While my computer beeps and crackles, I go back to the window.
Sydney leans over and kisses Josh on the cheek, and then he climbs out of the car. As she drives off, Josh gives her a two-fingered salute. Now that’s annoying. I pull away from the window and walk back to my computer. If he’s going to move forward with Sydney, then I don’t have to keep up my end of the pact.
I enter my email and password to log in to Facebook.
Emma Nelson Storm
What is a marine biologist supposed to do in
Columbus, Ohio, anyway?
4 hours ago · Like · Comment
Life looks about the same as yesterday. I’m tempted to take a peek at Kellan or search for Josh before he gets here, but I’ll wait. That’s what friends do. They keep their word.
I spin around in my chair. Where is he?
Finally, I can’t help myself. I locate Kellan in my Friends column, and click her name.
Kellan Steiner
Lindsay and I are eating Swedish meatballs at Ikea.
She agreed to see the Rolling Stones 50th anniversary
tour with me. I love my kid!
May 19 at 3:03pm · Like · Comment
Lindsay’s still there! Okay, now I have to talk to Josh.
I look out the window. Josh is sitting on his lawn, facing the park. I click back to my webpage on Facebook, knot the belt in my robe, and hurry down the stairs.
