Maybe Never

by Sadie Allen

  It was hard watching Sunny go through all the broken bits and pieces of things her grandma had cherished. She didn’t seem to care much about her stuff until she came across a mangled wooden ring with strings hanging off of it and piles of feathers that were scattered among the debris in her room. That was when she gave a choked cry, fell to her knees beside the little pile, and uttered one word: “Mama.”

  I knew then that it wasn’t just a pile of scraps that had been destroyed but something that was incredibly special.

  She looked up at me with anguished eyes, and I vowed that, if I saw Lonny Blackfox, I would beat his ass for bringing his daughter this much pain.

  “My mama made this for me when she was pregnant with me. Grana said that dream catchers were supposed to catch nightmares, but my mama wanted this one to catch all my dreams and make them come true. She made it in shades of turquoise because it symbolizes wisdom, honesty, good luck, and protection, but turquoise is also a symbol of love … It attracts love.”

  She then broke down in painful, gut-wrenching sobs, and I got down on my knees, took her in my arms, and held her until it passed. I hated seeing someone so brave and strong in this much pain.

  When she was done, she wiped her face with the heels of her hands and left my arms to walk over to the closet. She came back, face blank, with a shoebox and gently laid the remains inside. Then we set about righting the rest of her room in silence.

  Later, I got out the paper that I had picked up at my house that morning before work and before Mom had the opportunity to get to it, and took out the classifieds section. I had told Sunny yesterday that we should look at the for sale and garage sale ads for some temporary furniture for her to use since she was moving away this summer. It didn’t make any sense for her to buy anything nice. She agreed, and after we had cleaned up most of the mess, we set about making calls with no luck. Then we ended up practicing that baking recipe she had picked out. With Sunny bossing me around the kitchen, we had them baking in no time.

  I had to admit, those little pineapple cakes were pretty good. I ate close to half and never heard an “I told you so.” I guessed me stuffing my face was reward enough. She really was talented.

  Now it was Monday, and I was walking to my locker to get my books for my first period class when I noticed a pink balloon floating in front of my locker. It was one of those shiny, metallic looking ones that said, “It’s a Girl!”

  I gritted my teeth and fought back the urge to pound my fist into something, preferably Asher’s face. He and his friends were across the hall in their usual spot, watching and waiting for my reaction.

  I was reaching down to rip the string from the handle when I caught a blur of movement in my peripheral vision.

  Sunny jerked the string down and, with a vicious stab, she popped the balloon with the pencil fisted in her hand, not sparing me a look. No, her eyes were focused on Asher, and if looks could kill, he would be lying dead on the ground.

  The anger I felt instantly drained, and I could feel a smile tug on my lips. She really was cute when she was stabby. Well, cute as long as she wasn’t stabby mad at me.

  Then the lightness I felt disappeared as I watched Asher wink and blow a kiss in Sunny’s direction. Sunny’s response was immediate and hilarious. She raised both fists in front of her face and knocked the ends of them together a couple of times. Asher’s eyebrows rose, the look of confusion on his face making me laugh out loud.

  Grabbing Sunny by the arm and the remains of the balloon, I walked us down the hall, throwing the offensive material in the trash can.

  “You’re a nut. You know that, right?”

  Turning to glare at me, she said, “Asher’s a jerk!”

  “Yeah, but you need to let me deal with him.”

  “If I can do something, I’m going to do it, Judd,” she replied stubbornly.

  “Well, you sure told him. I doubt he got the reference, though. He’s not the kind of guy who watches old reruns of Friends, so he had no idea you just told him to eff off.”

  Sunny just rolled her eyes and kept walking.

  “A guy who can do the things he’s been doing isn’t right in the head, Sunny. I don’t want you getting involved. You need to be careful when it comes to him.”

  She didn’t say anything, so I took that as her agreement.

  “What class do you have this morning?”

  “English.”

  “I have Government, so I’ll see you in Mrs. Shannon’s class this afternoon.”

  As we walked along the hall, my classroom fast approaching, I could hear the whispers …

  “Look at her face!”

  “You think Judd did that?”

  “Do you think Ashley did that?”

  Friday’s showdown must have made the rounds.

  “Sunny—”

  “I hear them, Judd, and I’m fine.”

  We stopped in front of my classroom, and I suddenly found the tile on the floor interesting. I didn’t like feeling this awkwardness, mixed with a heavy dose of guilt. Why had I let her get involved in this whole mess? If she hadn’t been so hell-bent on speaking up for me, they might not even have noticed her face, let alone stand around the halls talking about it.

  I felt a light touch on my arm and looked up from my study of the floor.

  “This is not your fault.”

  “Sunny, I—”

  “Judd. This is not your fault, and you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m a big girl, and I can make my own choices. I chose to do the right thing, and if I could go back and do it again, I’d do it all the same. Well, maybe I’d slap Ashley around a little bit, but other than that, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  I opened my mouth to say something. I don’t know what, but she cut off me again.

  “I mean it, Judd Jackson. Now, all you need to say is thank you.”

  What? Did I tell her thank you for Friday? Was I supposed to?

  Before I could ask, Sunny answered my unspoken questions by stating, “You’re supposed to thank me for walking you to class, pretty boy.”

  Again, with the pretty boy?

  With that, she turned around and walked down the hallway toward the fine arts hall that held English 4, leaving me staring after her with my mouth gaping wide open.

  Before I could move out of the doorway, I felt fingers grip the back of my hair and rip the hairband, along with a few hairs, from the back of my head.

  “That Sunny Blackfox looks like a sweet piece. Maybe I’ll take me a bite when her face heals up,” said a voice that I had come to hate from somewhere behind me.

  My hands balled into fists, and I had to beat back the urge to swing around and hit Asher in the mouth. The only thing that stopped me was the thought that I could get suspended. Then there would be no one here at school to protect Sunny from the psycho twins.

  “You’ll leave her alone,” I spoke through clenched teeth, turning around to face my former best friend.

  “Oh, I will, will I? Who’s going to stop me?” he asked as he threw my hairband in my face.

  I let it hit my nose, keeping my eyes pinned on the asshole in front of me and letting the band fall to the floor, not bothering to pick it up.

  “I’ll stop you.”

  “What? And lose that precious scholarship?” he sneered.

  Before I could do anything else, Mrs. Mitchell put his hands between us and forced us apart.

  “Gentlemen, let’s not do this.” She grabbed both our biceps and pulled. “Let’s get out of the doorway so other students can come in, and we’ll get class started.” She let go of us and walked back toward the front of the classroom as the bell rang.

  Asher smirked, strolling to his seat that was right there at the back of the class by the door.

  “I don’t feel like writing you two up this morning, okay? I haven’t had enough coffee to deal with all the testosterone that’s clouding up this room.” Then she sighed as she sat behind her desk and began class by calling roll.

&n
bsp; I found my desk and spent the rest of the class fuming.

  When lunch rolled around, I walked into the cafeteria and casually looked around without trying to be obvious that I was looking for a head of shiny dark hair. I didn’t see her after a quick scan of the room, so I got in line to grab a tray and a bottle of water before I slid up to the cashier and gave her my student number.

  As I made my way toward the back of the lunchroom, I felt something hit my back and, as usual, a lot of laughter followed. I simply closed my eyes and exhaled a breath as I searched for a calm that I was not very familiar with these days. I didn’t even turn around. It wasn’t like it mattered who threw it or what it was. I just knew if I had to look at Asher’s smug, gloating face again, I didn’t know what I would do.

  I sat alone toward the end of one of the tables at the back of the room and cast surreptitious glances around, listening to the chatter of my schoolmates and wondering where Sunny was. Evidently, she didn’t eat lunch in the cafeteria. So, where was she?

  I tried to stop thinking about her. I couldn’t be anything more than her friend. I wasn’t good for her. I had already brought her to the Kleins’ attentions. Therefore, I tried to think of the things I needed to do this week.

  I had started doing my workouts in the morning before school so I could work after school at Sally’s. I had some homework that was due but I could do that during lunch. Maybe I could help Sunny find some furniture for her living room?

  Before I knew it, the bell rang twice, and it was time to leave.

  I got up, threw my trash away, and then took my tray to the window. I had one more class to go to before the Culinary Arts class I shared with Sunny. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help wishing the next fifty minutes away so I could see her again. I had to remember we were just friends.

  Maybe if I kept repeating that in my head, I might start believing it.

  I walked into Mrs. Shannon’s class early and took the seat I sat in on Friday. I could feel a familiar energy thrum through my veins that I instantly recognized. Anticipation I hadn’t felt anything close to it in months, and now it was practically zinging all over me, my legs bouncing as I sat in my chair, waiting.

  I knew what, or should I say who, was causing it. As much as I tried to talk myself out of thinking about Sunny Blackfox, because Lord knew that I wasn’t good enough for her, I had come to a decision within the last hour.

  I was going to allow myself to think and feel what I wanted toward Sunny, but I wouldn’t act on it. I wasn’t going to deprive myself of this. If I did, I would binge on it one day, and what would bingeing on Sunny get her? A whole lot of nothing. I wasn’t a good bet, and Sunny needed someone she could depend on.

  As the class started filling up, I tensed when I saw Ashley and drill team girl strut in. Ashley was in jeggings, a white button-down, and some kind of tan, faux fur vest that looked like it belonged in Vail, CO, instead of Sand Creek, TX. Next to her, drill team girl was a faded version of Ashley, wearing jeggings, a blue thermal, and a pink, poufy vest instead of the faux fur. Her clothes weren’t bad or anything; they just didn’t scream money like Ashley’s did. Ashley from tip to toe advertised that she was upper crust, high maintenance, and above all, rich.

  I ignored them as they took their seats and started whispering amongst themselves.

  Right when the warning bell sounded, Ashley asked, “So, where’s your girlfriend?”

  I didn’t bother to answer since Sunny strode in right before the late bell rang and plopped down in the seat across from mine, breathing heavily.

  “You okay?” I asked. She looked frazzled, sitting there like she had run all the way to class.

  “Yeah, I forgot that Mr. Knight had a quiz planned for today in Trig. He pulled it out at almost the end of class, so I went over it twice before turning it in since I didn’t study. Then, like every other teacher today, he pulled me aside after class and asked me about my face.” She made a face as she panted out her answer.

  “I bet you did fine.” I tried to give her my most reassuring smile, but at the sound of Ashley’s voice, I felt it drop.

  “Hey, trailer park, what happened to your face?”

  Sunny rolled her eyes. Before she could say anything, Mrs. Shannon called the class to order.

  “Okay, I know some of you have asked why we’re starting this semester with dessert, and I’ll tell you why!” She imparted this like it was top secret information, and that we were dying to know the answer. “Because it’s my favorite! It’s also the most challenging, in my opinion. Baking—or well, the pastry—is a science. If you don’t have everything just so, it will throw off the whole outcome of what you’re making. So, today’s word is precision!”

  I could feel Sunny’s eyes on me. I turned to look back at her, and she quickly averted them. However, I didn’t miss the tinge of pink on her cheeks. Interesting …

  “Your team projects are still due on Friday, but today, I thought we’d do a little experiment using the ovens.”

  It was then that I noticed the reusable canvas grocery sacks on her desk, and when she reached into one and pulled out a box, it took everything I had not to laugh out loud.

  In her hand was a box of instant brownie mix.

  I again felt Sunny’s eyes on me as I sat there and shook with silent laughter. The difference this time was, when I looked at her, she didn’t look away, her eyes glaring daggers at me.

  “We’re going to do a taste test!” Mrs. Shannon said excitedly as she shook the box of mix above her head. Then she turned back to the sack and started pulling out more boxes, each one different, and started stacking them on the edge of her desk. “You’re going to get with your partner over at the kitchen area”—she pointed toward the other half of the classroom—“and I’m going to hand you a box of brownie mix. Each mix is different. It could be a different brand or a different kind. For example”—she looked at the box in her hand—“this mix is made by Ghirardelli and has chocolate chips in the batter.” She set the white box down and picked up the red box that was closest to her and said, “This one is made by Duncan Hines and is chewy fudge.

  “This is the easiest way to practice precision. Each box has a simple recipe on the back, along with a list of ingredients and their measurements. You’ll find everything you need in the pantry”—she pointed to a large wooden cabinet that every teacher had in their classrooms for supplies situated at the back of the room—“or the refrigerator.” She then pointed at the large stainless steel fridge next to a big metal sink in the front corner of the room.

  “When you’re done baking the brownies, please take them to the back table to cool.” Mrs. Shannon glanced at the watch on her wrist. “It’ll take thirty to forty-five minutes to bake, so we may hold off and do the tasting portion of our experiment tomorrow.” She then clapped her hands once and said loudly, “Move!”

  Sunny and I both got up, and I followed her to the back half of one of the freestanding stations. As we waited for Mrs. Shannon to come by, I watched Sunny open the cabinet under the small countertop and pull out a mixing bowl and a measuring cup, and then she nabbed a big plastic spoon from the holder thing that was sitting on the stove.

  “Done this before?”

  “Maybe a time or two,” she replied with a small smile.

  I open my mouth to say something about the brownie mix, but she cut me off.

  “Don’t even say it.”

  “What?” I asked, feigning innocence like I wasn’t going to totally rub it in her face that we were making brownies after the heck she had given me this weekend.

  “You know what.”

  “Come on! You have to admit—”

  My words were cut off again, but by a different voice, one that made me want to jam a pen in my ear.

  “Wonder who busted up her face?” Ashley, who unfortunately for us, stood at the station against the wall to our left, asked in a loud voice. Louder than necessary since drill team girl was standing right next to her.
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  Now it was me who rolled their eyes.

  It was like she was some character out of a really bad movie with her obvious mean girl tactics. I had the urge to look around for cameras.

  Drill team girl didn’t answer since it was a rhetorical question and Ashley didn’t really want her to answer. This was proven true when she continued.

  “I mean, it’s not like I really care. I’m just sad that I missed the show.” She laughed and, as if on cue, drill team girl started laughing, too.

  “I’d have actually paid to see someone give that bitch what she deserves.”

  I growled. She was really pissing me off. No one deserved to have someone put their hands on them like that, especially not Sunny.

  “You say you don’t care, yet you keep putting my name in your mouth,” Sunny shot back, not missing a beat.

  “I don’t recall saying your name, trailer park. Or, should I call you Pocahontas? I heard my brother calling you that earlier; said he wanted to find out if you yelled like a Native in bed.” Ashley then shuddered visibly, her overly made up face twisting into a look of disgust.

  I cut my eyes to Sunny to see that she had an equally disgusted look.

  “Don’t know why he’s decided to take an interest in you. I told him that, if he got into bed with a dog, he’d catch fleas.”

  I could feel my ears burn as a red-hot rage started to boil under my skin. I wanted to leave class right now, hunt Asher Klein down, and beat the living shit out of him.

  Sunny snorted, and I looked over at her face. She didn’t look mad or upset. Even with all the bruising, she was beautiful and clearly not letting the Klein twins’ antics unsettle her. Or, well, it just looked that way.

  “Yeah, well, I’d like to see you or that douche canoe of a brother of yours try to spell Pocahontas.”

  Ashley’s face turned red, but before she could open that cesspool of a mouth, Mrs. Shannon was there, handing us our box of brownie mix.

  “Here y’all go,” she said with a speculative look at Sunny’s face as she handed us the box of Ghirardelli brownies she had held up earlier.