by RH Tucker
“Okay, well, we do take walk-ins. I can see if an artist is available.”
“Actually,” I say quietly, leaning over the front desk as I spot Nancy in the back. “I was hoping to talk with Nancy for just a minute or two. If that’s okay?”
The girl eyes me carefully, then looks back at Nancy, who’s sitting at a desk and appears to be drawing something.
“Hold on a second, I’ll check.”
“Thanks.”
“Dude,” Jackson calls me over, flipping through a big book of pictures, “this is sick.”
It’s a sword that is surrounded by flames. I look over at Jackson, who nods his head, like it’s the coolest thing ever.
“You think I should get it?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I mean, why not?”
“Do you have a tattoo already?”
“Well, no, but that’s an awesome one to get for my first one.”
I let out an unbelieving laugh, when I hear Nancy.
“Lucas, good to see you.”
“Hey, Nancy.” I give her a hug.
She glances over at Jackson then back at me. “What are you guys up to?”
“Not much. Sorry, this is my friend, Jackson.”
She shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jackson. You guys thinking of getting some ink? I’ll tell you what, since I know you, we’ll hook you up. Fifty percent off.”
“Seriously?” Jackson looks like he just hit the jackpot.
I laugh. “Oh, no, that’s not why we’re here.”
“Speak for yourself, bro.”
Chuckling, I roll my eyes at him. “Okay, that’s not why I’m here. Um, I was hoping to talk to you.” I look around the shop. “Maybe in private.”
“Sure, come on back to my booth. Jackson, was it? If you see something you like, let me know.”
“The flaming sword,” he answers without hesitation.
Nancy lets out a laugh. “All right, sounds good. It’s a slow night, so …” She looks around the shop. “Kim?”
A lady with both arms covered in tattoos walks over.
“This is Jackson. He was interested in that sword you designed.”
“You drew that?” Jackson stares at her in awe, which earns him another laugh.
“Sure did. Let’s get the paperwork for you.”
“Awesome.”
Nancy and I walk to the back of the shop and she motions for me to sit in her chair.
“It was really nice being able to catch up with your family during the camping trip.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“So, what’s going on? Everything okay?”
“Um, I don’t know.” My response earns an eyebrow lift from her. “See, I was wondering …” Great, all of a sudden, I can’t get the words out. I take a deep breath, staring down at the ground. “How’s Jen?”
“Jen?” she asks, giving me an uneasy look. “She’s okay. Why?”
I guess it’s time to lay it all out there. “Nancy, I screwed up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A couple weeks ago … wow.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m gonna tell you this, but … a couple weeks ago Jen and I went back to your house when you were out of town.” She looks at me in surprise and I hurry to clarify. “Nothing happened. We were kissing, and I got a text from someone I was talking to, and Jen saw it and flipped out.”
“Well, of course.”
“No, see, I know. But the thing is, I didn’t like the girl. At least, not like I should’ve to keep talking to her. And the next day it ended. And I like Jen, a lot. I always have.”
She puts a hand on my arm. “Maybe you should just tell her.”
“No, I’ve tried that, multiple times. And it doesn’t work. I know I screwed up that night and in middle school―”
“Middle school?”
I shake my head. “It’s a long story. My point is, I do like her, Nancy.” I laugh at myself, because I’ve gone this far. I might as well be completely honest with her. “Actually, I’m in love with her. I have been for a long time. But, I know there’s something going on. There’s this brief moment when we’re together, this microcosm of time, where it’s perfect. But then it’s gone. I don’t know if it’s because she doesn’t trust me, or thinks because I keep screwing up, that I’ll keep doing it, or maybe I am reading the signals wrong and she really doesn’t like me like I think she does. But I know it’s something. And I …” I take a deep breath. “I was hoping you might be able to help me figure it out.”
She’s quiet for a long time. Then she lets out a disbelieving chortle. “Now it makes a little more sense.”
“What’s that?”
“Last week, we got into a fight. Actually, no, not a fight, in as much as she just yelled at me. It wasn’t about you, but I can see where what happened between you two might’ve been a catalyst.”
“What was it about?”
She nods her head slowly, as if she’s replaying whatever happened between them.
“Just … stuff.” I nod, remembering Emma’s words. “Jen likes to act tough. And she is, because she feels like she has to be. After our fight, we talked about it and I totally understand why she keeps people at a distance.” I keep nodding, even though I don’t know what she’s talking about or how this is going to help me. “Lucas, she does love you. I know she does. Ever since she was a little girl and we moved next door. I actually caught her one time, playing in her room. She had these flowers and she looked―” She stops and stifles her smile. “Well, that’s probably something she should tell you one day. But I know she cares about you.”
“Then what am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing. You’re not going to like what I have to say.” I cringe but don’t say anything. “I’m not sure there is anything you can say or do. She might hear your words, but she won’t believe it, until it’s point blank in her face.” She wrinkles her nose. “Unfortunately, she might not believe it even then.”
I remember Sasha’s words and nod, giving her a smile. “Thanks.”
I give Nancy a hug and start walking toward the front when I see Jackson sitting back in a chair. Kim is outlining the tattoo on his shoulder and he looks over at me, gritting his teeth.
“You okay?” I ask, chuckling.
He shakes his head. “Dude, this hurts so freaking bad.”
“Wait ’til we get to the shading,” Kim says, laughing.
Jackson’s eyes dart from hers to mine, laced with worry, making me laugh again.
Chapter 24
Jen
The rest of July passes me by. Emma’s getting everything together for fall semester while I’m hanging around my house, trying to figure out where I should apply for a part-time job.
After coming back and talking with Nancy, things have been okay between us. There was never really any issue between me and her, but after I exploded on her I felt like there was for a little bit. When I came back home, she repeated to me that my mom did love me. It stings to hear that, and I don’t know when, if ever, I’ll believe it. But I know Nancy loves me. And I still haven’t spoken to Lucas since the night of the bonfire.
I don’t know when we’ll speak again. I certainly don’t think things will ever be like they once were, or how I wished they’d be growing up. After nearly crossing a line that night, it’s just awkward to even see him when I’m leaving the house or coming home. So, it takes me completely by surprise when I receive a text message from him, as I’m watching a movie with Nancy.
Buttface: Hey, Jen, not sure if you still have my number or blocked it, but if you get this PLEASE reply
Yeah, I changed his contact info to Buttface freshman year. I couldn’t bring myself to delete or block him, but I didn’t want to see his name either. Every now and then I’ll think I should change it, but never do. I glance over at Nancy and then back at my phone, unsure what I should do.
Me: Yes, I still have it
Buttface: Wow, I’m ple
asantly surprised
Me: What do you want?
Even staring at his ‘name’ doesn’t bring me a smile. I’m annoyed. Why is he texting me? We have nothing left to say to each other.
Buttface: Can we talk?
Me: I have nothing to say
Buttface: Then can I talk to you? PLEASE??? All you have to do is stand there and listen
I don’t answer. I stare at the phone, then up at the TV. What could he possibly say that hasn’t been said already? And why should I listen? Nothing is going to change.
Buttface: Please Jen, just 5 min. After that, you can ignore me for the rest of your life if you want :/
I smirk and roll my eyes, because as much as I thought I would’ve wanted to ignore him for life, I don’t. I’d like to think we could be friends somewhere down the line. Just nothing more than that. It’d be too dangerous to try and be more than that with Lucas.
Me: Fine. Where?
Buttface: Secret door in the backyard.
The memory of our secret door brings a faint smile to my face. There’s a brick fence dividing our backyard and his. But before it was a brick fence, it was a wooden fence. When Lucas’ family had the bricks put in, Lucas and I begged his parents to leave a small opening in the bricks, wide enough for someone to squeeze through. Then, we covered the opening with some bushes so anyone walking by wouldn’t be able to see it. We were both nine and we loved it.
“I’ll be back,” I say as I get up from the couch and put on my slippers.
“Where are you going?” Nancy asks.
“Just in the backyard for a minute.”
I head out to the back and see Lucas sitting on the brick wall, over the secret entrance below, his legs dangling over on our side. I notice everything about him. His snug white undershirt, stretching across his chest as he presses his hands into the bricks. His hair looks damp, like he just took a shower. He’s wearing cargo shorts, but my memories betray me, and I think back to the night in my room. I look away, take a deep breath, and sit at the small patio table in our backyard. Even though I’m facing him, I keep my eyes averted.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey.”
It’s nearly eleven o’clock. I can hear the crickets chirping along our backyards. There’s a glow coming from his yard, the lights in their pool still shining, but I don’t look back up at him. I hear him take a deep breath and then he hops down, landing in front of the bushes of our secret door, before coming over and taking the seat in front of me.
“I’m sorry.” His apology makes me meet his eyes. “For everything, Jen. But most of all, I’m sorry I let something so stupid, that happened so long ago, build up into this mountain that it seems we can’t cross over anymore.”
I bit my lip, nodding. “Yeah.”
“I saw Emma a while back.” The news catches me unprepared. “She sort of ripped me a new one. But she also said something that I haven’t been able to forget.”
I’m racking my brain, trying to remember Emma telling me anything about seeing Lucas, but I can’t. Why wouldn’t she tell me she saw him? And what’d she tell him?
“She said you have some kind of secret?”
I lean forward, putting my face into my hands. “She what?”
“Oh, no, don’t worry. She didn’t tell me anything else. And she also said it wasn’t a secret secret, whatever that means. And really, I was egging her on, because I know there’s something going on with you, Jen. Or there has been. I just want you to know you can talk to me.”
I let out an incredulous snicker. “I can talk to you? Seriously?”
“Why not?” He smiles at me. “We used to tell each other everything.”
I shake my head, looking away. “Not … everything.”
“Yeah.” His voice sounds like he understands. “Anyways, I also want to apologize for my explanation, that night in your room.”
“It’s fine, Lucas,” I reply, giving him a wave. “I know you had drinks earlier that night. Whatever you said, I’m sure was just in the heat of the moment. Guys say lots of things.”
“Jen.” He says my name with conviction. He doesn’t say anything else until I look at him. “I meant every word. I’m just sorry it came out how it did, and why it did. The girl I was talking to,” he emphasizes the word with a smirk, “was nice. I tried to go out with her or just like her, but I couldn’t. And I stopped talking to her the next morning. Anyways,” he clears his throat. “The last thing I wanted to say was that I remember you.”
“You remember me?” I give him a confused stare.
“Yeah. I remember you and all the things you liked growing up. All the things we liked. The secrets we told each other. The games we played and dreams you told me about. I remember the Teddy Grahams, Star Adventure, and everything else that used to make you smile.”
I let out a laugh, suddenly remembering my Teddy Grahams requirement. We were in third grade and Nancy would pack a little packet of Teddy Grahams cookies in with my lunch. Lucas and I had lunch at the same time and we’d sit together, and he’d always ask for a couple cookies. They’re small to begin with and we’d munch on them during lunch. Most of the time he’d finish them by the end of lunch, but he’d always leave the last one for me. Sometimes I’d forget it and he’d wave the bag in front of my face and I’d smile, reaching in for the last cookie.
I remember telling him, “One day, when I’m married, my husband will always buy me Teddy Grahams.” Little eight-year-old Lucas sat there, staring at me with a weird look. “If we get married, Lucas, my favorite flavor are the cinnamon ones.”
He wrinkled his nose at me. “I guess. I’ll buy you Teddy Grahams if we’re not married though, Jen. That way I can have some, too.”
Third grade Jen loved that he said that. That he’d be the one buying me my favorite snacks.
“Do you remember me?” Lucas asks, bringing me back to the present.
I stare at him, thinking over his question. Of course, I remember him and all the memories we had growing up, but I feel like he’s asking so much more than just about my memories. And if that’s the case, I don’t want to answer. I pushed him away at the lake because I didn’t want to risk it. Then, when I thought I might as well, it blew up in my face. The memories that I have of him, are ones that I love of him. The memories are love. And I’m not going to risk that again.
“It’s okay,” he says with a crooked-smile, and gets up from the chair. “Hopefully I can remind you.”
Chapter 25
Lucas
It took me a while to try and come up with an idea of showing Jen that I’m still the same person she grew up with. That I’m still the same person who she considered her best friend for years. I have no idea if it will work, but I have to try. Because after that night in her room, I know for a fact I’ll never get her out of my system. I have to put it all out there, because even if it doesn’t work, at least I’ll know I laid it all on the table.
“I don’t understand.” Jackson rummages through a rack of cookies, as I search the shelf of a grocery store. “Teddy Grahams?”
My eyes scan a neighboring shelf. “Yeah, it’s just a thing.”
“First of all, you’re getting her cookies? Why?”
“It’s not―” I laugh, shaking my head. “It’s not about the cookies, it’s about the memories, man. Teddy Grahams mean something.”
“And you can’t just get animal cookies? Or Oreos? Dude, everyone loves Oreos. Double Stuf, baby.”
“No, man.” I laugh again. “It has to be Teddy Grahams and they have to be cinnamon.” A lady walks by the aisle with a store uniform. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Do you guys carry Teddy Grahams?”
“Yes, down here.”
We follow her to the end of the aisle, and they are tucked next to boxes of Cheez-Its. She starts to leave, but I raise a finger.
“Oh, I’m sorry, but do you have the cinnamon flavor. I only see the honey and chocolate.”<
br />
“No, I’m sorry. We only have these.”
“Okay, thanks.”
She nods and leaves us.
“Just get the regular ones.”
“No, it has to be the cinnamon. Come on, let’s check another place.” I wave to him to follow and we leave the store.
I’m using Rich’s truck, so we get in and take off down the road.
“Seriously, man,” Jackson says, turning on the radio. “I really don’t get this.”
“You don’t have to get it,” I snap at him.
“Whoa, calm down.”
“Sorry.”
“Look, I know you like her, but do you really think this is going to happen?” I cast a quick glance at him. “Hey, I hope it does. If I didn’t know anything except all the shots Rich always teases you with, I’d know you’re crazy about her, but she’s pushed you away time and again.” Another glance at him makes him put a hand up. “Again, sorry. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but, you know …”
“Yeah … I know.” We drive in silence until I reach the parking lot of the next store. “Look, I know this is crazy. I know it’s weird, but it’s all I got.” Jackson just sits there, staring at me. “I’ve loved this girl since I knew what love was. If I don’t do everything I can to at least prove that to her, then I’ll always regret it.”
“And if you do everything you can, and she still says no?”
“Damn, man, you’re really being a Debbie Downer today.”
“Sorry.” He laughs.
We don’t say anything else, as we get out of the truck and head into the store. Finding the cookie aisle, I spot the section that has them, and thankfully they have the cinnamon flavor. I load up my arms with as many boxes as I can carry.
“You think that’ll be enough?” Jackson snickers.
“I’m dropping you off at home before I make my last stop.”
“What? Nooo. It’s freaking boring at home. Everyone else is getting ready for school and I got nothing.”
