“That’s a horrible contest to win.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “I can’t say I know many guys who’d want to win.”
When Jimmy pulls up to my house, he gets out of the car and comes to my side to open the door. After helping me out of the car, he keeps my hand in his as he walks me up the pathway to the front door. I like the feel of our hands together. His hands are a lot bigger than Mitchell’s. Strong, athletic, experienced.
“You know, this is the first dance I’ve gone to where there’s been zero drama. It’s been refreshing.” He squeezes my fingers. “Thank you.”
“Sounds like you’ve been going to dances with the wrong people.” I’m joking, but I’m probably right.
“I have.” He tugs on his bottom lip. “I had a lot of fun with you, Ruby. Do you think we could do this again sometime, maybe?”
Again? He wants to see me outside of school again? “Really?”
“Is that a . . . yes?”
Laughter blurts out. “Yes. Sorry. Yeah. I’d love to. Sure.”
“Rad.”
He leans in. I hold still, not because I don’t want to touch him, I want to make sure I know where this is going before I make any sudden moves. Be cool, Ruby. He encircles my waist in his arms, and I manage to hug him back. Normally. It’s a miracle! As he pulls away, his lips brush against my cheek, near my mouth, and my entire body lights on fire. I’m so grateful it’s dark or he’d see how red my cheeks are.
“Good night, Ruby. See you at school.”
I wave. “Night, Jimmy.”
FREE YOUR MIND
Brett
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 14
Dear Ruby,
Let me tell you about life. It comes at you whether you want it to or not. You should know that already. Look at June 18th, if you need proof.
On the 5th, while I was at Senior Night striking up a relationship with my sister’s best friend (more about her later, if you’re interested) Amber got herself arrested.
Yep. You read that right. Arrested.
I should fess up now. You wrote to Amber first, so I feel as though I owe you an explanation. My sister is messed up.
She’s 3 minutes younger than me and she was born the same way she lives her life— chasing me down to one-up me.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re best friends. I’d do anything for her, but she’s a mess. And since the crash, she’s worse.
I’m readying myself for two things. To be an uncle at 19 or to ID my sister’s body one late, rainy night on the side of the road in a mangled up car. I didn’t expect for her to get arrested because some guy who picked her up at a club decided to rob a gas station.
She’s out of control. That should be me, shouldn’t it? Aren’t teenage boys the ones who go out and screw up their lives over these things?
Thankfully, she wasn’t charged. The loser she was with admitted she had no idea what he was doing—she was in the car while he attempted his big heist.
I’m telling you now, if I’m ever going to break the law it’s going to be something HUGE. Bank vaults or jewelry store huge. Not a six pack of crap beer, Slim Jims, and a couple hundred bucks. What an idiot.
As you can imagine, things here are strained. Since Amber and I are 18 now we are legally allowed to live on our own. However, we do have a guardian, Cole, who keeps track of us for our Gram who lives in Florida. Cole is a complicated story for another day.
I realize I’m full of complicated stories. Why do you keep writing to me?
I also realize you wrote me two letters I never responded to! I had every intention of replying sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t. In no particular order, here are my replies—
Brett of Oz—I like it. What will I be asking the wizard for? I have a brain (maybe I can ask for one for Amber!), a heart, and courage. I guess I’ll ask him for my mountain.
Speaking of mountains, I’m glad you’ll be going with me. I’ll teach you to ski. I’m a good teacher, I promise. You can teach me to dance, but none of those tight body suits the guys wear. Okay?
Also, give me a Polish word that’s not a cuss word, but not nice either. Idiot? Stupid? Something I can feel good about saying to people and them not knowing what it means. Please?
What else? Oh, no more Cali. I’m so un-cool. Also, sorry there will be no more matching clothing, and why do I get the feeling you’re selling yourself short when it comes to your allure? Girls always put themselves down. Don’t do that.
On to letter #2. You wrote this one on the same day I wrote to you last. Maybe the world is telling us something?
Question—how was your date with Jimmy? He’s an idiot if he didn’t show you off. You’re the girl who can dance circles around people! (Also, I repeat, don’t put yourself down!)
If you’re squandering your senior year, I am too. It was something I realized on Senior Night. I’ve been skulking around school, getting things done, and working toward getting into State. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d missed this year until Hope pulled me back into the crowd again. Hope is Amber’s best friend—the one I can talk about later.
Can we be who we were before the crash? I don’t think so. But, we can be close, I think. I mean, I’m still the guy who wants to ski and board, and play loud music, and go to concerts, and drive fast, and hang with my friends to let off steam. I just haven’t been that guy for a while.
I’m different parts of him at different times, but never the whole him.
I think of the crash and how different parts have been found here and there. Sometimes I wonder if I won’t be whole until they are. Until they figure out what happened that night. Then I get scared because we may never know.
Let’s make a deal. Let’s promise to be the Brett and Ruby we were before. You weren’t the pity date girl with the dead mother, and I wasn’t the orphan with the convict sister (okay, convict is a little harsh, but you get the idea).
Who were you before? Name one thing.
I’ll go first. I was the guy who talked to everyone. This week, I’ll talk to five people everyday. Real talk too, not superficial junk. I’ll tell you all about it in my next letter.
—Chatty Brett
P.S. I’m constantly worried about what my parents would think of what’s going on with Amber and me. At what point can I let those thoughts go? They’re kind of tearing me up inside.
I’M GONNA BE
Ruby
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18
Okay Chatty Brett,
Amber. Wow. I know there are no apologies that will fix your situation, but I’m sending a hug your way. I’ve been thinking how lucky you were to have a sibling to lean on and here I find out she’s been no support to you and that hurts my heart. I know I’m not family or anyone close to you, but know I'm here. You can lean on me. I’ll even break out into song if you need me to. “Lean on me when you're not strong. And I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on.”
No? Too much? I’ll stop. I’m a horrible singer anyway. You’re lucky you only had to read that and not hear it.
Who was I? I know the crash was only seven months ago, but it feels like lifetimes. There’s a part of me that wants to tell you I haven’t changed. The part that wants to tell Mitchell to go screw himself. (He’s my ex-boyfriend who broke up with me about a month after my Mom died, because I was no longer “me”.) That part of me wants to say I’ll always be me, but the reality of it is, I’m not that person anymore.
Who was I? I was still weird, but not so morbid. I was still the girl with all the facts, but I didn’t research different ways you’re more likely to die than in a plane crash. I used to research harmless things like impressionist artists, flowers, and former presidents.
Who was I? Brett, I was an optimist. The world was vast and exciting and I wanted to know everything I possibly could about it. I wanted to absorb all the goodness life has to offer. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Eleanor Roosevelt said that, in case you didn’t know. Only my motto was, “No one h
as the power to take away your happiness without your consent.” I forget what happiness feels like sometimes. I want it back. So, you’re right. I need to be more like the Ruby from before.
I’ll start off by telling you my date to Sweethearts with Jimmy went rather well. He made me feel comfortable and beautiful and wouldn’t you know it...I think he actually likes me. We’re going out again this weekend. Cross your fingers I don’t go off on too many fact tangents. I need to ease him into my eccentricities.
If you want to tell me more about Hope, I’m all ears. Sounds like she’ll be a good thing for you.
~Ruby the Optimist
P.S. I think your parents would understand. You’re on your own, growing up quicker than you should have to. You’re doing the best you can to take care of Amber. Give yourself some credit.
P.P.S. “Kretyn” means “idiot” in Polish.
MY LOVIN’
Brett
MONDAY, MARCH 1
The glowing green dots change to 12:00 AM and I stretch. Hello, March. In three and a half months it will have been a year. It’s hard to believe how time flies. Since Senior Night at The Blue, life has moved at a fast forward pace.
It’s exhausting being Chatty Brett. Probably because I’m also Brett, the over-protective brother, and Brett, the kinda-dating-Hope guy. Oh, and Brett the overachiever who signed up for too many honors classes for the second half of senior year! That Brett is stupid.
It’s Chatty Brett who writes Ruby Kaminski four letters in two weeks. I’m sitting on my bed, propped against the wall, writing another one. I never imagined I’d be a pen pal with someone, but writing to Ruby is a habit. I come home from school and I can’t wait to tell her what happened. I shake my head. Tonight I attempted breaking the habit; I failed. After trying for two hours to fall asleep, I flipped on my light and grabbed a pen. I try not to think about why I need to share my little anecdotes with her . . .
There’s this girl, I think she’s a freshman, who followed me all round school for two days after I helped her pick up her dropped books Thursday morning. I swear she put a tracking device on me. Every time I turned around she was there. I’m kind of scared to go back to school today!
Speaking of stalkers, my buddy Mike is in love with Ann. Poor guy. Ann likes him, but she doesn’t want a relationship with him. I think she prefers keeping her options open. She’s always flirting with different guys and dates several at a time. In keeping with getting back to the Brett of BEFORE, the four of us hung out today—Hope, Mike, Ann, and me. After we dropped Ann off, Mike sank down into his seat like he’d lost his best friend. Hope happened to be flipping radio stations and the song ‘My Lovin’ by En Vogue came on. You know it, right? It’s on the Top 40 station here every hour! So, she cranks the radio up, looks at Mike, and sings ‘never gonna get it, never gonna get it.’ You probably had to be there to enjoy the humor. It’s now his theme song.
. . . I finish off the letter, stuff it in an envelope, and seal it. I haven’t written anything about Amber since my desperate letter on Valentine’s Day. I haven’t shared, and Ruby hasn’t pressed for details. Turning off my lamp, I sink into my covers and close my eyes. That’s what I like most about writing to Ruby. When I write to her, it’s as though I’m living a different life. I can share whatever I want.
CAN I TRUST YOU WITH MY HEART
Ruby
THURSDAY, MARCH 4
An arm slings around my shoulders while I’m on my way to American Government. “Have you ever been late to class?”
Jimmy brings a wide smile to my face. “Not without it being out of my control.”
“Didn’t think so.” He nods for us to keep moving. “Then I’ll walk with you. You want to go see Groundhog Day this weekend?”
“The one with Bill Murray?”
“Yeah. It looks funny.”
Interesting choice, but okay. “Sure.”
“Cool. I’ll look at show times tomorrow and call you.”
We stop in front of Mr. Hansen’s door. “This is me.”
He sighs, his shoulders visibly sagging. “That didn’t take nearly as long as I hoped it would.” Jimmy kisses my cheek. It’s so casual, like the way I’d hug my dad on the way out the door. No big deal to him. I’ve become a normal part of his day. My cheeks burn crimson. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Okay.” I toss a quick wave and walk into class so he’ll stop looking at me blushing.
It’s been a few weeks since Sweethearts. I should be used to Jimmy escorting me to class and spontaneously hugging me or kissing my cheek, but it’s only been a few weeks since Sweethearts and he’s escorting me to class and spontaneously hugging and kissing me! And when did he become Jimmy, instead of Jimmy Hoffman the Homecoming King?
This is not normal. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me. Even before I became the odd girl with the deceased mother. Boys didn’t notice me. I mean . . . I know I had Mitchell, but I feel like I would’ve noticed if guys were paying attention to me. I didn’t turn heads. And Jimmy certainly didn’t have me on his radar. Maybe it’s a practical joke. Maybe he was dared to ask me to Sweethearts or I’m a bet.
Ruby. Funny how I hear Brett saying my name when I have no idea what he sounds like, but he has a deep voice of his own in my head.
Okay. Fine.
I told Brett I’d be an optimist. And he’s constantly telling me to stop putting myself down, so fine. For you, Brett, I’ll stop questioning why Jimmy Hoffman wants to date me and appreciate it for what it is: Jimmy, a boy who sees me as more than the odd girl with the deceased mother.
I’ve done pretty well in that aspect over the last few weeks. Optimism. I started to make more conversation with Kamry outside of school and dance. I called her a few times to chat after school. Although all she wants to talk about is Jimmy and me, and analyze everything he does and says to me, it’s fine because I kind of want to, too.
Every time I make progress I feel the need to write Brett a letter about it. I started getting creative and wrote him messages in little bottles, like something that might wash up on a shore. Short progress reports that he’ll get every couple of days. I roll the notes and stuff them in miniature glass bottles. Package them in boxes, so they won’t break, and ship them off.
I woke up in a horrible mood this morning, but realized I had full control over it. Instead of hitting the snooze button and rolling over, I sprung out of bed and skipped downstairs to make breakfast for my dad. Even though I think breakfast being the most important meal of the day is a myth, it helped to jumpstart my day by putting a smile on my dad’s face.
I smiled at a classmate today. For no reason. I don’t even know her name, but it’s so fascinating to see the reaction on people’s faces when you do the unexpected. As soon as I smiled, her eyes widened, but then she smiled back and waved. Maybe I made her day, but in all honesty she made mine. I went around with a smile on my face for the rest of the day! You should try it! But maybe not with that freshman.
Jimmy told me I looked pretty today. Of course, in my head I second-guessed him, thought there might be some motive behind his compliment, but then I heard your voice telling me to knock it off (not your voice exactly). Instead of questioning it, I said thank you and went on with my day.
FRIDAY, MARCH 5
He’s kissing me.
Jimmy Hoffman is kissing me. Not a peck on the cheek. He’s kissing me right on the mouth. For a full minute. Okay, I’m too lost in my thoughts to count, but it feels like a minute. His lips are skilled, eagerly devouring, yet slowly savoring the moment.
“I really like you, Ruby.”
Too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, I shift my gaze to the ground. “You hardly know me, Jimmy.”
He places his finger beneath my chin, persuading me to look up. “I know enough. I know you’ve been through something no one our age should ever have to go through, and yet somehow you manage to keep a smile on your face.”
“That’s only recently.” I shrug, scratch
ing the back of my neck. “I’ve been trying really hard to be optimistic. And you’ve helped a lot.” He’s a great distraction from the present, unsurprisingly enough.
“See, right there.” Jimmy presses his hand against my cheek to keep me from looking away. My face melts into his hand. “You’re still trying to remain optimistic. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, I don’t do it on my own. I’ve had help. I actually have a pen pal.” I’m not sure why I say that, but my mouth won’t stop. “This guy who lost his parents in the crash, too. All he has is his twin sister. There aren’t many people who know what it’s like, but he does, so we give each other advice and stuff.” Advice and stuff? Our letters are so much more, but how can I explain to Jimmy that these letters are what get me through every week and keep me smiling? How do I tell him I feel closer to Brett than anyone else even though I’ve never even met him?
“Oh. Well, that’s really cool. How often do you guys write to each other?”
“Umm . . . like once a week, sometimes more if there’s more to say or if we’ve had an especially hard week.”
It didn’t occur to me to keep Brett to myself, but the look on Jimmy’s face tells me maybe I should have. I still haven’t told Kamry about him. Brett allows me to be someone I can’t be around anyone else. He understands me on a level no one else ever will. I haven’t wanted to explain him to people.
“Where does he live?”
For a second, I hesitate. It feels weird giving out personal information about Brett. I don’t want to betray his privacy. So, I don’t. “On the other side of the country.”
Paper Planes and Other Things We Lost Page 8
