by RH Tucker
“What? Nooo. It’s freaking boring at home. Everyone else is getting ready for school and I got nothing.”
“Then stop the hassling,” I say with a laugh, “and load up your arms.”
“Fine,” he grumbles and starts picking up boxes from the shelf.
After we check out with about fifteen boxes of the cookies, I stop at an art and craft store and buy a gift basket and some bows. I’m not crafty, or artistic, or even color savvy. I’m just going off things I think she’ll like. The basket is green, which is her favorite color. And the bows have little sunflowers on them, which I remember she always liked.
After the store visits, I stop in front of Jackson’s house, and he gets out of the truck.
Closing the door, he leans in through the window. “I really hope this works for you, I do.”
“But?”
“But …” He trails off, looking out the front window. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”
A couple months ago, we were barely friends. But through the summer he’s been as good a friend as Carter or Matt. So, hearing him tell me that brings a heartfelt grin to my face.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah. Hey, hit me up this weekend, if you’re not too busy getting all your stuff together for school. This’ll be my last weekend I’m completely free before I start working at my dad’s deli.”
“Cool. Yeah, I will.”
“All right, later.”
I wave and head home, taking the basket and grahams to my room, and start working on a letter I’m going to put with it. There are so many things I want to put in the letter, but at the same time I don’t want to put too much. I want it to be clear. To let her know exactly how I feel but without being overbearing.
“Hey, there’s a party tonight. You want to―” Rich’s words cut off as he walks into my room and sees the items on my bed. “What’s this?”
“Nothing.” I wave him off and keep my eyes on the piece of paper in front of me, on my desk.
“That’s a shitload of Teddy Grahams, bro.”
I don’t answer.
“… I was so nervous around you when you brought up boys, and kissing, and things like that―”
“Dude, what the hell?” I spin around in my chair, putting my arm over the paper to keep him from reading anymore.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing, get out of my room.”
“Is that for Jen?”
“Get the hell out, Rich.”
“Dude, stop.” He lets out a huff and shakes his head.
“Stop what?”
“Stop fucking around with her. Get your head on straight and realize it’s not gonna happen.”
“Screw you.”
“Luc, you guys had your chance. Years went by while you were both growing up, and nothing. It’s time you realize that and move on. This isn’t healthy.”
“Get. Out.” I scowl at him.
“She’s damaged goods, bro.”
“Hey, fuck you!” I jump out of my chair, getting as close to being in his face as I can.
He puts his hands up in defense. “Dude, I’m not trying to be a dick. I like her, okay? I always thought of her like a little sister, but you’ve had to have seen it. You can’t be that oblivious.”
“Rich, I swear to God, if you don’t get out of my room right now―”
“Fine, fine,” he says, putting his hands up again and walking back to the door. He stops there, looking at me while I cross my arms, staring a hole through him. “I just have to say this, at least once. The high school sweetheart crap never works.”
“Yeah, just because Rosie broke your heart once you graduated.”
“Fuck you, you little shit.”
Silence falls between us as he seethes. I feel bad bringing up Rosie. I know he loved her and when they both graduated high school, I know he thought they’d be the classic high school sweethearts, finish college and get married. He was going to UCLA and her to USC, so they didn’t have the whole long-distance thing to worry about. But after their first semester, she broke up with him, telling him she wanted the ‘college experience’ without being tied down. He was crushed and I never brought it up. Not once. So, yeah, I feel a little crappy bringing it up now.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
He’s quiet for a moment longer, before finally speaking up. “All I’m saying is, she’s got issues. And if you don’t see that, then you’re either blind or stupid. You’re my little brother and I don’t want to see you get hurt. But I don’t want to see her get hurt either. I don’t know …” He lets out a long sigh. “You guys should be together, but with whatever’s going on with her, I just don’t think it’s gonna happen. And as long as you keep trying, I think you’re only hurting yourself and her.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. Everything he’s saying has already crossed my mind. It crossed my mind while I was out buying all this stuff and it’s been constantly nagging me as I sit here, trying to write this letter. But I cannot not do something. I have to put it all out there. I have to give it everything, because if I don’t, then I know I’ll always wonder. I may never love anyone as much as her, but if we really can’t be together and I don’t try this, anyone who I do end up with will only have a part of me. And I can’t do that to someone else either. It’s what I was starting to do with Sasha. They’ll only have half of my heart, while my other half will always be wondering what if.
Chapter 26
Jen
Everyone’s getting ready for college. Well, everyone except for me. Emma’s not leaving home but that doesn’t mean she isn’t signing up for classes, getting more art supplies, and readying herself for her first semester. Carter’s going to UC Irvine, so he’s doing the same thing. Matt and Izzy, who are both going to Irvine Community, are both getting things prepared.
It’s not that I regret taking the first semester off. I still feel like I’m going to enjoy working and earning some money. I’m positive I’ll like not having to worry about deadlines, studying, and finals. But still, it feels weird not getting ready for school when all my friends are.
So here I am, sitting at an open work table inside Butterfly Ink, as I go over job applications. I’ve been spending a lot more time at the tattoo studio. It’s nice getting to know everyone better, actually feeling like they’re becoming my friends and not just people who work with my aunt.
“I’m headed out,” Nancy says, stopping by the table.
“Okay.” I tap my pen against the table. “I’m just gonna fill out a couple more and wait here. Emma and Carter are swinging by, I think we’re gonna go to the movies.”
Leaning over, she gives me a hug. “Okay, I’ll see you later tonight.”
Twenty minutes later, Emma and Carter show up and we’re off to the theatre. I would feel like the third wheel, but when we get to the theatre, Matt, Izzy, and her friends are there. Not being the only single person among everyone helps. And being with Veronica and Cindy is actually helping me remember my old self. The girl who would flirt with a guy and not worry about having my heart broken, because I wasn’t interested in giving them my heart. I just wanted to have fun.
After the movie, we stop by Burger Shack and grab something to eat before heading home. Nancy is still up watching TV in the living room.
“Hey,” she calls out and I sit down next to her.
“Hey.”
“How was the movie?”
“It was okay.”
She nods as she points to the TV, her eyes staying locked on it. “You missed it, Greg eliminated Bethany.”
We DVR a bunch of reality dating shows and make fun of the contestants. It’s one of our favorite pastimes. “Of course he did,” I laugh. “Come on, you think he wanted someone with two degrees in computer science instead of Blondie McBombshell, who’s already slipped her hand down his pants?”
“The cameras didn’t show that. It was dark in their room.”
I give her an unbe
lieving look and she laughs.
“Okay, you’re probably right.”
“I think I’m gonna go to bed.”
Her eyes dart to my bedroom door and then at me, a small smirk crossing her lips. “Okay.”
“What?”
“What?”
“Yeah, what? What was that look for?”
“What look?”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “You kind of smiled.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Oh, okay.”
That’s all she says and returns to watching the TV.
I laugh it off, bending down to give her a hug and kiss. “Okay, weirdo. Goodnight.”
“Night, baby.”
Opening the door to my room, I hit the light switch and see a huge green basket on my bed. It’s got bows with sunflowers all over and it’s filled to the brim with boxes of Teddy Grahams. Not only is the basket filled, but there are so many that my entire bed is covered with boxes.
“Nancy?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s this?”
“What’s what?”
“Why is my bed covered in Teddy Grahams?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Her voice is innocent, too innocent. As in, she knows exactly why. I return to her and she’s smiling at me. “Okay, I do know.” I raise my eyebrows, waiting for the answer. “It’s from Lucas.”
“You let him in my room?”
“Excuse you.” She puts up a hand. “It was only for a minute. It’s not like he hasn’t been in your room recently for longer.” She raises an accusatory eyebrow at me. I jerk my head back, unsure how she knows about that, and at the same time worried she’s going to be mad. “Anyways, yes, I let him in your room for a moment. He said it was a gift and that you’d get it once you read the letter.”
“Letter?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, that’s what he said.” I turn around and head back to my room. “Goodnight, Jen.”
I can hear the laughter in her voice as I close my door and scan the room. I’m not sure why, nothing else looks out of order and I know Lucas would never pry through my things.
I let out an unbelieving chuckle and smile, as I start picking up the boxes from my bed, placing them on my desk. I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from smiling again, noticing they’re all cinnamon flavor. There’s a little white envelope in the basket, my name written on the outside of it.
Putting the basket on the floor, I take the envelope and sit on my bed. Feeling the edges of it, almost afraid to open it, I look back at the basket. It’s not dressed up or made to look fancy in any way, other than the sunflower bows. Lucas must’ve done it on his own. He knows I like green and I remember always wearing my favorite shirt when I was little around him, a shirt that had sunflowers on it. I’ve always loved sunflowers.
Looking back at the envelope, I slip a finger under one corner to open it but hesitate. I don’t know what this is going to say, and maybe more importantly, I don’t know what I want it to say.
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I finally tear open the envelope and pull out a letter, handwritten on notebook paper. I see his name at the bottom and run my finger over it. After staring at his name for what feels like hours, my eyes finally jump to the top of the page.
Jen,
I know you remember Teddy Grahams. I saw you smile when I brought it up. What you don’t know is what I was thinking when you told me about your future husband. I had only recently realized I had a crush on you. And then you said your future husband would always buy you Teddy Grahams. I remember thinking I wanted that to be me. Not so much the husband part, after all we were eight, but I remember wanting to be the one who got you them. I remember thinking why you couldn’t see that I liked you, even if at the time it made no sense, because I was so nervous around you when you brought up boys and kissing and things like that. Any other time, if we were playing outside, or just hanging out watching a movie, I was fine. When it came to “relationship” stuff, I was in over my head. But I knew what I wanted. And that was you.
So, back to Teddy Grahams. You remember how I always saved the last one for you? In my head, I thought it was this magical thing I was doing. I thought you’d figure it out. I always made sure that no matter how many I ate (sorry for eating most of the bag most of the time), that as long as I saved the last one, as long as I didn’t eat the entire thing and made sure you got the last one, that you’d see I liked you. That I saved it for you, because I thought you were special. I still think you’re special.
I know I’ve screwed up countless times and as much as I wish I can take stuff back, I know I can’t. But like I told you, I remember you. I’ll always remember you. You’re engrained in my mind, like a scar I’ll never be able to get rid of, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. So no, I’m not your husband. And because of stupid mistakes, I don’t know if I’ll ever even get the chance to have any kind of relationship with you, be it husband, boyfriend, or even just a regular friend. But I’ll still always get you Teddy Grahams. On your birthday, when you’re feeling down, as your wedding present to whoever the lucky bastard is that marries you. I’ll always save the last one for you, because you deserve it. You deserve everything.
Lucas
I stare at the letter, running my fingers of the words, feeling the imprint made in the paper. I always wondered why he saved the last one for me. I just figured it was Lucas being my best friend. And even if that’s all it was, I loved it because he was thinking about me. To find out he thought I was special and that’s why he was saving it for me, there’s a piece of my heart that overflows with joy. But only a piece.
Because that was years ago. Even if he’s giving me this gift and letter now, things have changed so much. After my meltdown with Nancy and talking to Emma, I know that one day I want to find someone to love. But that day is a long way off and it can’t be Lucas. It can’t be. Because what if it is and something happens―which always seems to between us―and it ends? Right now, we’re barely friends, but there’s still a connection of some sort there. But if something happens and we couldn’t be anything anymore? I couldn’t take that.
So, I’ll cherish this gift. I’ll reread it time and time again, like I’m doing right now, knowing that we do have something between us, but it can never be anything that I hoped it once could be.
As I get to the bottom of the letter, I run my finger over his name again. A small drop of water hits the page and I realize I’m crying.
Chapter 27
Lucas
I didn’t think Jen was going to burst into my room after she got the gift basket, wrap her arms around me, and tell me she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. I mean, sure, that would’ve been the best-case scenario, but I knew something like that probably wasn’t going to happen. I hoped she would’ve called or texted. Not even to thank me, because I didn’t need that, but just to let me know she got it. Or that she read the letter. But I don’t get a phone call. Or a text. As a matter of fact, an entire week goes by and I don’t see or hear from her at all. Nothing.
I deliberately take my time when I go outside to check the mail, or jump in Rich’s truck, looking over at her house, checking … hoping that I see some glimpse of her. But other than Nancy waving at us a couple times as she leaves the house, you would never think anyone else lives there.
As much as it twists up my stomach, wondering if I even did the right thing, I know have to try something else. Something that will make her see that I never stopped being in love with her. So even though it sucks that I don’t hear anything from her, I take the week to gather my thoughts and figure out what I can do.
I have to search the greater Los Angeles area in different thrift shops, garage sales, art and craft stores, or any other place I can think of that will have the supplies I need. Do you know how difficult it is to find tiny lights that look like stars? Really freaking hard.
I stop by Sam’s Deli, the deli that J
ackson’s dad owns and where he’s working now. It’s my third time here this week, since Jackson says it gets really boring. Plus, he hooks me up with free sandwiches.
“What’s up, Buzz Lightyear?” he calls out, laughing as he slices meat behind the counter.
“Very funny.”
The deli is a small set up. It has essentials like bread and milk, but it’s main source of income is the sandwich stand. With two tables in the store, and two tables outside, it’s like a little sandwich shop but people can buy everyday necessities, too.
“How’s the Galaxy Quest going?”
He’s been making jokes about what I’m doing ever since I told him. “I found a glowing planet today out in West Covina.”
“You should’ve just painted, like, a foam ball or something with glow in the dark paint.”
“I thought I was going to have to, but as I was looking for some more lights I found the globe. So, happy accident.”
“You’re crazy.”
I lift my shoulders and grab a small bag of chips, waving it at Jackson, and he nods. Behind him, his dad walks through double doors, his apron covering his clothes. Jackson just wears jeans and a T-shirt, but his dad keeps on a white apron and one of those old-timey envelope hats, which makes him look like a butcher. The last time I was in, Mr. Lawrence gave me the history of the hats, which evidently are called ‘soda jerk’ hats. Jackson chuckled while I listened, making me believe Jackson must’ve heard the story multiple times, but he seems like a nice guy.
“Hey, Mr. Lawrence.” I wave to him, before opening the bag of chips.
“Lucas, it’s Sam, remember?” He gives me a friendly smile.
“Right, sorry.”
I hadn’t met either of Jackson’s parents before he started working at the deli. His mom, Dolores, works at the deli part time and is a real estate agent the other half of the time.
“So, you need help with any of that stuff?” Jackson asks.
I arch an eyebrow. He’s been cracking jokes all week and I know he doesn’t mean it in a mean way, but I am slightly taken aback by his offer. “Seriously?”
