“Because I wasn’t . . . born yesterday.”
Max laughed. “Okay, maybe a little. It’s your fault for having such pretty legs.”
“Lame excuse.” Emma sank onto the grass and rested her head against the oak. Max sat next to her.
“Sorry for gawking. Do you hate me now?” He picked off a piece of the tree bark. Her sudden intake of breath took him by surprise.
“Don’t do that. You’re going to kill the tree.” She rubbed over the spot he’d picked at. “The bark is like skin for a tree to protect it. If you open the skin you allow insects to get inside.”
“Oh, you’re a tree hugger,” he teased.
“No. I happen to love oak trees is all. Look at the tree, Max. It’s huge and it all came from . . .” she got up and walked a few steps before picking up a tiny little acorn, “ . . . this.” She glanced over at Max and laughed. “I know. Silly, but I really do love them. My mom is an avid horticulturist so you can blame her for my fetish. She helped me do a project about trees for the sixth grade science fair and I fell in love with the mighty oak. In fact, that was the name of my report: From a Little Acorn Grows the Mighty Oak. Kind of a twist on the original quote.”
She lumbered back over to the tree and Max stood. Circling it, she ran her hand along the bark, peering up the tree’s length and smiling. Right then Max knew he was a goner. He’d remember the moment for the rest of his life because it was the moment he fell madly in love with Emma McKay.
“Even a little acorn can become extraordinary. It’s kind of become my metaphor for life. I want to be a journalist and write about things that matter to people and make a difference. I want to become a mighty oak someday. The Angel Oak,” she said looking at Max.
“Angel Oak?” Max stepped closer to her.
“The Angel Oak is the name of this huge oak tree in South Carolina. Some people believe it is over 1500 years old. It’s something like sixty-five feet high and the trunk is twenty-eight feet around. Its longest branch is close to a hundred—”
Max couldn’t stop himself. He leaned in and kissed her. And she kissed him back. Max’s heart pounded as he drew her closer under the mighty oak.
She smiled up into Max’s brown eyes when he pulled back. “What took you so long?”
“What?” Max stumbled, surprised by her question.
She shrugged. “I’ve been hoping you’d kiss me for two weeks now. I thought maybe you didn’t like me that way.”
“You mean I could have kissed you two weeks ago?” Max playfully slapped his forehead. “Well, I guess we’ll have to make up for lost time.” He tugged her back into his arms.
“I guess so. Who knew it would take the Angel Oak to motivate you,” she giggled. “I should have told you about the tree sooner I guess.”
“Next time you go visit your tree, I’ll go with you so I can give it a proper thank you,” Max said.
“I’ve actually never been to the tree. I plan on taking a road trip there, maybe during spring break of my senior year. It’d be sort of a senior trip, without a bunch of seniors.” She laughed.
“Maybe I’ll go with you?” Max said it as a question more than anything.
“I’d like that,” she said before she kissed him.
Max and Em were inseparable after that. Their families became friends too. They went camping together in the summer and snowmobiling in the winter. He and Em also spent countless hours around the oak tree, doing homework, sharing their dreams, and kissing; Max’s favorite thing to do under the tree. She became more than his girlfriend, she became his best friend. They planned their senior trip to South Carolina again and again. Sometimes they planned to drive there, just the two of them. Other times they planned to bring friends. The only thing that didn’t change was the plan to gather a few of the acorns and plant them in their parents’ yards. They’d transplant the trees to their own home after they got married where their children could climb them as they got bigger.
“You do realize it will have to be our grandkids that climb the tree since oak trees grow slowly,” she pointed out once.
“I guess we’ll have to find a house with a grown oak tree then. After we plant our saplings, we’ll have our own little forest of oaks,” Max promised her.
“An entire grove of oaks. Max, you are the best. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” Max didn’t point out how wrong she was. He figured ignorance was bliss.
Max remembered how that promise earned him some very nice kisses that beautiful spring day. He picked up a few of the scattered acorns and squeezed them in his hand. With all the strength he could muster using JD’s body, he hurled the acorns, along with a deafening roar, as he tossed away the dreams that were no more.
His headache came back with a vengeance as he walked soberly back to JD’s house. Max knew why it hurt. JD kept struggling to remember the accident. “Don’t bother. The doctor said you may never remember. Besides, you’re innocent so what does it matter?” Max knew he should try a little harder to reassure JD, but his head pounded to the point where he had to fight off nausea. He went straight to bed when he got home, grateful Tim wasn’t around. He didn’t have the energy to deal with the weasel tonight.
Chapter 13
Max shoved the dozens of old homework assignments and test papers that’d fluttered to the ground after opening JD’s locker back inside. Today at lunch I’m cleaning this mess up, he thought, until remembering his plan with Izzy. “Tomorrow then,” he conceded under his breath, running all-out to PE.
Late for class, he quickly changed into his clothes and rushed to the basketball courts, arriving last. He kept his eyes cast to the ground so no one could see the bruises. Just as the nurse predicted, he had two black eyes, though only mild, so mild Mel hadn’t even noticed them when he left for school.
Izzy, however, did. “Let me guess. It was Coach Mather, right? He watched three girls shove me down into a puddle of muddy water last month and did nothing. Well, except laugh.” She held out her finger. “Keep to the code.” They hooked fingers and nodded. He tried pressing her for more info about the code only she insisted they not talk about it in front of anyone. She promised they’d talk over lunch in one of the empty classrooms.
“Alright, single file along the white line,” Coach instructed the class. “I heard basketball got a little out of hand yesterday. Since I wasn’t here, and there are conflicting reports as to what happened, I’m hoping it really was just an unfortunate accident.” He glared directly at Jeff.
“Same captains as yesterday, but today you’ll have an entirely new team chosen by yours truly.” Coach picked up a slip of yellow paper from the clipboard in his hand, waving it. “And if I see any unnecessary roughness, you’ll get an automatic two day suspension from class.”
He handed each captain a slip of yellow paper. “Today, you’ll practice with your teammates only. Those of you who are familiar with b-ball’s rules and techniques will work with those who need help. You’re a team, you’ll work as a team. No one will sit on the bench. The old cliché holds true for your team: you’re only as strong as your weakest link. I suggest you help, not criticize, humiliate, or assault, your fellow teammates. Do I make myself clear?” Heads nodded, yeses were murmured.
“Wonderful.” The coach smiled broadly. “Captains, assemble your teams. Dave, you start.”
After Dave, a tall gangly kid with severe acne, called up his five players, Jeff was next. “JD Miller,” he said.
Max’s head popped up as snickers spread like wildfire through the class. Two guys on Dave’s team high-fived each other as they spouted out, “You got stuck with Lumpy.”
Coach stormed over to them. “Steven, Kenny, five laps around the track then hit the showers.”
“But, Coach, that leaves my team short two guys,” Dave complained.
“Like I said, Dave, you’re only as strong as your weakest link, or in your case, links.” Coach jogged back over to Jeff and Max.
“How’s your nose, JD?” he a
sked.
“It’s fine, Coach. It hardly even hurts,” Max replied. Coach patted him on the back as the captains continued assembling their teams.
Each team took one of the four basketball courts and the captains began a mock game within their teams. Max assumed the captains wanted to assess everyone’s weaknesses. After five minutes, Jeff stopped the game, and broke the group up into three two-person teams. Jeff assigned himself to Max. JD’s heart burst into panic mode . . . again. Max inhaled deeply, muttering calming reassurances to JD as he waited to see what Jeff had in mind and hoped it didn’t involve pain. After Jeff assigned each team a skill to practice on, he tugged Max to the top corner near the basket.
“Okay, JD, I want you to practice dribbling.” Jeff bounced the ball in front of him. “Keep the dribble low for better control.” He dribbled for a few seconds before passing it. Only Max didn’t expect the ball to come at him quite so fast and he recoiled away. Controlling JD’s fears still proved to be a challenge for him. The ball bounced wildly and landed in the grass. Max ran after it, tripping over his own shoes.
It’s just PE class, JD, and Coach is on your side. You’re not alone. Astonished, Max felt JD’s disbelief wash over him at the statement.
“JD,” Jeff said, scooping up the ball before Max. “Um, look. I owe you an apology for yesterday. Losing Max has put the team on edge, you know? We really miss him, and blaming you was the easy way to vent all that anger. I’m really sorry about the whole basketball thing.”
Now this was the Jeff that Max knew, not the bully who smacked JD around yesterday and popped him in the face with the basketball. “Why the change of heart?” Max asked in the rudest voice he could muster. It still sounded pathetically frail.
“Emma. She told me about the report,” he explained. “Besides, like she said, it doesn’t really matter who’s at fault. It was an accident, and Max wouldn’t be happy that we punished you for it.”
Emma. He should’ve known. She was an awesome girl and he knew it, now more than ever. She always worried about others, yet he seldom did. He didn’t think of himself as selfish, more like clueless. He didn’t mind helping out, he just didn’t notice when someone needed help. But Em always did.
Max nodded, took the ball and tried dribbling again, still surprised at the awkwardness of JD’s body while playing sports. For Max, sports were an appendage of himself. The skills seemed to flow effortlessly out of him. He worked at perfecting them, but no matter the sport, it didn’t take much effort. Of course JD could out-write him any day.
After several dozen tries, Max managed to dribble the ball without losing control, though he doubted under pressure he’d do as well. Jeff gave him a high-five on the way to the lockers, and Max pointed it out to JD. He decided he’d make a point of showing JD the positives in his life. Maybe that would help with the sour attitude that seemed to possess JD most times.
Max showered and headed over to journalism class. He could hardly wait. Emma would be there and he could see her again and, with any luck, even talk to her.
In his excitement, he shoved the steel classroom door open a little too forcefully and it ricocheted back at him. He caught it before it hit him in the face. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. He waved, not knowing what else to do. Mr. Roberts grinned.
He took one step into the room and stopped. There Em stood, wearing her soft pink shirt with the white pearl buttons and her sky-blue capris. He loved that outfit on her and couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey, JD. Sorry for running off last night. I had so much homework to do. I’m still behind.” Max didn’t buy her excuse, but he got to hear the soft dulcet tones of her voice, so it didn’t matter.
“That’s fine.” Max set his backpack down on the desk next to hers. “You look pretty today. I like that color on you. It makes your eyes stand out.”
“Thanks. Max . . .” Her eyes tightened slightly. Saying his name clearly caused her physical pain. It made him sick. She cleared her throat and continued. “Max used to say that too.”
“Smart guy.”
“He was pretty wonderful.” She smiled weakly.
“JD, what happened to your eyes?” Mr. Roberts came up to them, handing Emma a small stack of papers.
“Ran into a basketball. I’m good. No harm, no foul,” Max shrugged.
Emma’s head snapped up from the papers she’d been thumbing through.
“What?” Max asked her.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that M-Max used to say that all the time too.” She shrugged a shoulder and buried herself back in her papers.
“JD, I’d like to have you do some proofing this morning. The school paper goes to print Friday, and as you know, you’re our best proofer.” Mr. Roberts handed him a jump drive and pointed to a row of computers before walking away. Max stared blankly down at the jump drive, hoping it wasn’t encrypted because he had no clue what JD’s password was.
“Are you okay?” Emma asked, stepping closer to him. He could smell her perfume, and stealth-like, inhaled deeper. “JD?”
Max’s face flushed. “My memory is a little sketchy lately, you know, from the, ah . . .” He didn’t want to say accident, fearing he’d cause her more pain.
“I’ll help you. Come on.” He followed her over to a computer where she plugged in the jump drive and opened the file.
“Here are the articles to proof. Don’t bother with mine on the cafeteria rats. I ran out of time and didn’t get to finish it. I’m so far behind now I doubt I’ll ever get it done.” She shook her head.
“What do you need help with?” Max sat, sliding his chair under the desk.
“I have most of the article written and the photos are ready. I’m just not sure how I want to lay it all out.” She shrugged. “Too bad, it was pretty interesting.” She turned to leave, stopping. “JD, would you have the time to help me? We could probably get it done in two days. We can work on it at the library, or you can come to my house tonight.”
Max knew his heart stopped beating. Em wanted to have him over to her house. Okay, technically JD, but still. “Yes! That’d be great.” His reply came out more enthusiastically then planned. Em chuckled.
“I forgot how much you like to write. You really need to let Mr. Roberts run one of your short stories you told me about in the paper. You’re a very good writer.”
“Maybe I will,” Max replied. Judging from the spike in his heart rate, JD didn’t like the idea. But since he’d not finished a single story yet, and Max couldn’t write to save his life, JD really had nothing to worry about.
Max proofed the stories. The last one, Emma’d written. It was a poem about loss. His eyes teared up several times as she spoke of the agonizing pain that crippled. The unquenchable anguish that devoured. And the overwhelming emptiness that haunted. She wrote it under her pen name, so few would know it was her. But Max knew.
When he finished, he shut the computer off and handed the jump drive to Mr. Roberts. “I think I caught all the errors.”
“Thanks. JD, I know things have been a little rougher than usual around school since the accident. I hope you’re not internalizing all this,” he said quietly. “Remember what we’ve talked about in the past. Write your feelings down, or better yet, share them with someone.”
Max nodded. “I will. Thanks, Mr. Roberts.”
See, JD, you’re not alone. Remember that. Shaking his head at the doubts still flooding JD, Max slipped his backpack up on his shoulder and went to his next class. He felt another headache coming on, so he bagged his idea of encouraging JD for the rest of the afternoon. He knew that would only make it pound harder. JD, I do wish you’d stop stressing so much. These headaches are killing me.
By lunch, Max’s head throbbed with such intensity, he feared it would explode. He stopped by the nurse’s office and got some ibuprofen, running into Emma on the way to his locker.
“Hey, JD. I forgot to tell you my address. It’s nineteen Pebble Hill Circle. We’re still on for tonight, right
?” She juggled an armload of books as she walked by.
“Yes,” he beamed brightly. “Here, let me help you.” Max took three-fourths of the books from her. “I know women like to be independent and all, but my mother would give me up for adoption if I didn’t help you carry these.”
“Thanks,” she said slowly. “My locker’s over here.” She pointed across the hall. He nodded as if he didn’t already know. She raced over and had it open for him when he got there.
“Crazy neat,” he said about her locker. It always was. In the two years they’d dated, he’d never seen her locker messy.
“Okay, this is just weird. In the past two minutes you’ve used two expressions that Max always used.” She shifted a few things around in her locker before grabbing her wallet. “You two are a lot alike.”
“That is weird.” Max made a mental note to watch what he said around her. It wouldn’t be easy, she knew him better than anyone.
“Do you want to eat lunch together?” Em asked.
Max wondered if souls in peril could move because he was pretty sure JD’s mouth just dropped open. “Thanks, but I don’t think some of your friends would want me at their table.” Max could think of two, maybe three, that’d practically give birth to a cow if JD were to join them.
Em took hold of his elbow. “Don’t be silly. Come on.” She all but dragged him down the hall toward the cafeteria. Max didn’t resist, despite JD’s objections.
“Hi, guys,” Em said as they approached the heavily carved wooded picnic table outside the cafeteria. Max had eaten lunch under the overhang too many times to count. There they sat, all his friends, some he loved and missed dearly. The urge to hug several, share a few hearty pats on the back with others, burned strong. But instead of greeting his comrades, he sat in the right corner and mindlessly ran his fingers over the engraving he carved into the table October before last. Em and Max 4ever.
Several awkward moments of silence followed. Finally, Max forced his eyes off the engraving. Scanning everyone’s face, he sensed a glut of emotions ranging from pity and hate to sadness and confusion.
Not So Easy Page 11
