One Perfect Love

by Jessie Evans

It’s all I’ve been able to think about for ten days. I guess I should be torn up about my dad, but it still doesn’t seem real, and I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think about the fact that I basically have no parents, not even shitty parents, and that Caitlin, with all the crazy stuff going on in her life, is the only thing standing between me, and a foster home. I’d rather think about the way Sam’s lips felt so warm and soft against mine, the way she tasted like sunscreen and salt water, but more than that, too. She tasted like freedom and secrets, like a promise someone finally kept, instead of running off and letting me down.

  Kissing Sam was everything the movies make a kiss out to be—magic and lights dancing behind my eyes and my blood rushing so fast I thought I was going to pass out. I already loved her like a best friend, but the second I kissed her, it became so much more.

  I’ve never loved anyone like I love Sam. I would do anything for her. I want to make her happy and keep her safe and I wish like hell I wasn’t still just a kid. I don’t want to say goodbye, even though I know moving is the only way Caitlin can keep our family together. But I wish I were old enough to stay in Maui. The entire plane flight from South Carolina, I’ve been daydreaming about fixing up the old abandoned lifeguard lookout on the beach, and living there with Sam. About what it would be like to come home to a place that was just mine and hers, nobody else’s, where no one could hurt us because it would be her and me against the world.

  But now the plane is going down, and I’m going to get crushed into the tarmac like a bug on a windshield, and I’ll never see Sam again.

  I swallow hard, but I can’t seem to force my spit down my throat, and the next time the plane lurches, my chicken dinner pushes against the top of my stomach, fighting to get out.

  “It’s okay, D.” Sherry, Caitlin’s best friend, squeezes my hand. “We’ll get down safe.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I pull my hand away and cross my arms. I like Sherry, and I’m glad she was cool enough to let me fly back to Maui with her to say goodbye to Sam, but I don’t need to be treated like a baby.

  I lift my chin and try to look bored for the rest of the flight, but by the time we land—bouncing back up into the air twice, and swerving on the wet landing strip before the pilot gets the plane under control—I have red crescent moons on both palms from where my nails have been digging into my skin. I follow Sherry off the plane, my legs feeling like rubber bands that have lost all their stretch, and we head down to the luggage area to get the suitcases.

  The airport in Maui is almost all open to the outside, so the wind from the storm whips against our skin as we watch the carousel spin, and wait for the bags to get spit out. I check my cell every few minutes, willing the baggage people to hurry. I’m supposed to meet Sam at the Fish Market Restaurant, where we get fried calamari on the weekends, at four o’clock, and it’s already three-thirty.

  After what seems like a zillion hours, our bags finally slide out of the shoot, and Sherry and I are on our way to the curb to look for her boyfriend, Bjorn.

  “There he is!” Sherry makes a squealing sound and jumps up and down, waving like an idiot, as Bjorn’s old yellow truck pulls up. When he gets out, Bjorn has a big, dumb grin on his face to match Sherry’s. I try to stay cool, but I can’t keep from rolling my eyes when they kiss, making all these lovey dovey sounds, and cooing about how much they missed each other.

  I may be in love, but I’m never going to act like those two. They’re too barfy for words.

  We load up and Bjorn heads out of the city of Kahului, toward the village of Paia, where he and Sherry live, and where I’m meeting Sam. By the time Bjorn pulls up in front of the Fish Market, my palms are sweating. Sam and I have talked and texted a ton, but I haven’t seen her in ten days. It’s the longest we’ve been apart since we met, and a crazy part of me is afraid things are going to be different between us. But then I see Sam’s crazy, curly hair through the window, and she turns to look out at the street, like she can sense that I just hopped down onto the sidewalk. Our eyes meet, my stomach flips like it always does, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

  “Be home by eight, okay?” Sherry says. “Bjorn and I will be waiting up. I promised Caitlin I’d be super tough about curfew.”

  “Yeah, cool, thanks,” I mumble, but I don’t turn to look at her when I wave goodbye. I can’t look away from Sam. Her blue eyes are sadder than I’ve ever seen them, and her skin looks so pale she must not have been to the beach for days. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and hug her tight, but we don’t do that kind of thing in public—we both hate couples like that—so when I reach her table I keep my hands to myself.

  “Hey,” I say, sliding into the seat next to her. “You okay?”

  She shakes her head, then turns to me and puts her arms around my neck. I sigh as I hug her close, relieved that hugging is okay right now. I comfort her the best I can, petting her hair and running my hands in gentle circles between her muscled shoulders. Sam can be super girly when she wants to be, but she’s also one of the strongest girls I know. She has muscles all over—strong legs and arms, and an intense six-pack—but she also has soft places.

  When her softness presses against my chest, I can’t help the way my body responds. I’m more worried than turned on, but Sam just…does things to me. I can’t help it. Still, it’s embarrassing, and I’m glad the table is hiding the situation. I want to make Sam feel better, not let her know what a hopeless horn dog I am.

  “I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she says, sniffing. “I’ve felt like I’m all alone.”

  “I’m here,” I say. “And I get to stay for at least a week.”

  Sam pulls in a shuddery breath. “Let’s not talk about it. I can’t think about you moving away, or I’m going to completely freak out.”

  “Okay,” I say, kicking myself for being such an idiot. “You want to talk about what’s up with your mom and dad?”

  Sam pulls back, swiping at her damp eyes with the backs of her hands. “You mean, the fact that my dad is moving in with some rich lady old enough to be his mother?”

  I pull a face. “Wow. You didn’t tell me that before.”

  “I know,” she says, running a hand through her hair, making it stick up even more in the front, where her curls are tightest. “I just found out today, when Penelope came by to help Dad move his things. She had a bunch of makeup on, and this tight dress, but it was obvious she was older, so I asked Dad about it, and he said she’s fifty-two. He’s only forty-two!”

  “That’s ten years, Sam,” I say, lifting a brow. “That’s not old enough to be his mom.”

  “Don’t play the No Bullshit game right now, Danny.” Sam narrows her eyes at me, but I can tell she’s not really mad. “I get to be full of bullshit, because my dad is moving in with an old rich lady, my mom is crying all the time, and my little brother locked himself in his room and won’t come out. If I hadn’t been throwing peanut butter sandwiches through Erick’s window, he probably would have starved to death by now. Even Hana is depressed. She hasn’t chewed any shoes for a week, even when I got Dad’s favorite sandals out of the closet, and gave them to her.”

  “Revenge by puppy,” I say. “That would have been pretty sweet.”

  Sam shrugs, but her lips curve. “Yeah, well. I’m sure I’ll think of other ways to make Dad suffer. I tried smoking a cigarette I bummed from Devin at the skate park in front of him today, but it tasted so gross I almost choked to death, so…”

  I laugh. I can’t help it.

  “Shut up,” she says, nudging me in the ribs. “I’m a very badass person. Respect my badassery.”

  I put my arm around her, so glad she’s close enough to touch. “I respect your badassery so much that I’m buying dinner. What do you want?”

  “The usual,” she says, leaning into me, making my chest feel tight and things lower in my body threaten to start acting up. “But let’s take it down to the beach. I don’t want to be around other people.”r />
  “Sounds good,” I say, jumping up from my chair before I can embarrass myself again.

  I place our order and they have it ready at the counter a few minutes later. Sam and I take our bags of calamari, fried shrimp, and three orders of French fries to the park down the street, stopping to give the homeless guys by the trash cans one of our orders of fries, because Sam can’t stand for people to go hungry, and I know what it’s like to go to bed without supper.

  We settle in on the grass next to the beach, and watch the waves do their best to kick the sand’s ass while we eat. We talk some, but mostly we’re quiet, the comfortable kind of quiet that happens when you’re with someone you know you can be yourself with. We finish eating, take a long walk, and throw chunks of dead coral into the waves for a while, but eventually the sun starts to set, and I know I should start heading toward Bjorn and Sherry’s. I’m about to tell Sam I should walk her home, when she turns to me and says—

  “Let’s run away. Just you and me.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to think of the best, smartest thing to say. Sam’s usually more level-headed than I am, but she’s in a bad place. I need to step it up, and take my turn being the responsible one. “We can’t. We don’t have any money, and—”

  “Yes we do,” Sam says, a pleading look in her eyes that makes me afraid she’s serious about this. “I’ve got five hundred dollars saved up. We could get flights to Oahu, work odd jobs until we save up some money, and then find someone to make us fake I.D.s. And as soon as we’re fake eighteen, we can get real jobs, and an apartment and—”

  “Sam, I—”

  “Please, Danny,” she says, sounding like she might start crying. “Don’t make me go home. I hate it there. I feel like I’ll die if I have to go back there and try to find a way to make Mom stop crying, and go visit Dad and his new family on the weekends. It will suck so hard, and I won’t even have seeing you to look forward to.”

  “We can talk every day,” I promise. “I’ll call all the time.”

  “From Croatia?” she asks, doubt in her clear blue eyes.

  “Yes. I swear.” I take her hand and squeeze it tight. “Caitlin’s boyfriend is crazy rich. I’m sure he’ll let me make international calls, and even if he doesn’t, I’ll find a way to pay for calling cards. I know how to make my own money and I…” I pull in a breath and force the hard words out. “I don’t want you to forget about me.”

  “Then come with me to Oahu,” she says, though I can tell she’s losing faith in the plan. “We could make it work. I know we could.”

  “Or not,” I say, pulling her up the beach as a big wave crashes into the shore and the water rushes toward our place on the sand. “And then we’d end up like those guys we give French fries, except we wouldn’t be two stinky dudes with gnarly feet. We’d be a scrawny kid, and a pretty girl, and…bad things happen to pretty girls when all they have is a scrawny kid to protect them.”

  “I’m tough, Danny,” Sam argues. “You know that. And you’re not scrawny. You’re all muscle.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” I shrug like it doesn’t matter, but part of me loves the fact that Sam sees my muscles, not the fact that I’m underweight for my height, no matter how much I eat. “But I’m not as big as a grown man, and I might not be able to protect you, no matter how hard I’d try. And that would scare the shit out of me,” I confess, though I don’t like copping to being afraid. “I don’t care what happens to me, but I don’t want to think about you getting hurt.”

  Sam’s eyes soften and start to shine again, but she doesn’t cry. She just squeezes my hand and studies me, and I study her. We stand there, staring at each other, not saying a word, for what feels like forever. Our lips don’t move, but I swear we have an entire conversation in the way we squeeze fingers and watch each other’s faces turn gold in the sunset. It’s an intense moment I know I’ll never forget, and by the time she leans in to kiss me, I’m even more in love than I was before.

  The kiss is a little sexier than our first kiss—there is a hint of tongue, and I manage to slip my free hand into Sam’s hair—but it’s sweeter, too. It’s the sweetest, most amazing moment of my life so far, and when we come up for air, I can’t keep from confessing—

  “I love you, Sam.” My throat is tight and the words feel scary, but good, too. Right.

  She smiles her biggest Sam smile, the one that’s so wide and full of teeth one of her meaner girlfriends calls her Sam the Shark, but I love that smile. I love it because it means that my best friend is happy.

  “I love you, too,” she says and kisses me again.

  We kiss for another ten minutes—or another hundred, I don’t know—I only know that it’s over too soon. I feel like I could kiss Sam forever, and never get tired of it.

  But it’s past time to go, so we start back to town. I drop her off at the gate to her house, promising to be back first thing in the morning, before retracing my steps to Bjorn and Sherry’s. I’m beat from the big day of flying, but I can barely sleep that night, even though I want to get my rest so I can get up early. But something inside me doesn’t want to let go of this day, the day the girl I loved told me she loved me back.

  Sam and I spend the entire week together, logging as close to twenty-four/seven as her parents and Sherry will allow. We skate and surf and read comic books on the beach. We make a picnic and hike out to her friend, Janis’s, house, and spend the afternoon helping Janis and her parents harvest mangoes and bananas from the trees in their yard. We splurge on an afternoon at the movies, and walk around the mall, and do other dumb things that don’t seem as dumb as usual because I’m doing them with Sam.

  And then, all too soon, the week is over, and I’m back at the airport.

  This time, no one’s jumping up and down on the curb. Sherry hugs me hard, and tells me to stay strong, Bjorn gives me a stern handshake, and then it’s time to say goodbye to Sam, who convinced her dad to let her come along for the ride, even though she’s supposed to be spending Tuesdays with him during the summer.

  “Call me as soon as you get there,” she says, pressing her lips together, making me think she’s trying not to cry. I know I am. “I don’t care what time. I’ll sleep with my phone by my bed.”

  “I will,” I promise, wishing I could think of something better to say. But Sherry and Bjorn are standing a few feet away, making everything feel more awkward by being grown up, when Sam and I aren’t yet.

  “Okay, then…” Sam bites her lip before launching herself at me and hugging me tight. “Don’t forget me,” she whispers into my ear. “Okay?”

  “Never,” I whisper back, knowing it’s the truest things I’ve ever said. I will never, ever forget her, and I refuse to believe what I feel for her is going to fade away, just because we found it too soon.

  As I turn and walk into the terminal, I promise that I will find a way to stay close to Sam, no matter how much physical distance separates us. It won’t be easy, but that’s okay. I may only be thirteen, but I know that sometimes you have to fight for the things you believe in.

  And I have never believed in anything the way I believe in Sam.

  Look for THIS SWEET ESCAPE October 2014.