“What?”
“For our families to accept us, just as we are.”
“Is that why you moved here?” I ask.
She chews on a thumbnail. “If you want to know the truth, my mom got really pissed at me.”
“So, coming here was your punishment?”
“Kind of.” She pauses. “She basically kicked me out. Helped me find somewhere else to go, and then she made me leave.”
“Jesus, Lauren. I’m sorry.”
“Now she’s moving across the country, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me.”
“You’ll stay where you are, right?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure when Josh and Erica said I could stay with them, they didn’t intend for me to become, like, their fourth child.”
We’re both quiet for a minute. Then she says, “But we weren’t talking about me. We were talking about you. You never really answered my question. What do you want?”
I scratch my head. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“All right, let’s break it down. Do you want to win state?”
“Yes. For Benny. And for my team, I want to win state. But …”
“But what?”
“If we win state, I think that means I have to play college ball. The pressure will be on like nobody’s business. Everyone will expect me to play.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to play?”
“Positive.”
“But you want to go to college?” she asks.
“Yeah. I want to study civil engineering.” I look at her. “And you’re going to go to become a whatever it is that studies birds, right?”
“I don’t know now. With my living situation up in the air, how does that work? For financial aid, I mean. I bet my mom is still claiming me as a dependent, which means I need her to help me fill out the financial aid forms. And that’s never gonna happen.”
“Maybe your aunt and uncle can write a letter and explain the situation.”
She sighs. “Like they don’t have enough going on with their jobs and family and everything else.”
“I think you should talk to them,” I tell her. “I don’t know your aunt very well, but your uncle is a super-nice guy. Let them help you figure it out.”
“So, do you go to the bookstore a lot?”
I shrug. “Maybe. Okay, yes, I do. So?”
She smiles. “A football player who reads. Man, that is …”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” I reach over and start tickling her side. “Tell me. It’s what?”
She laughs and tries to push me away, but I hold her with one hand and continue to tickle with the other. “Okay, okay, it’s hot!” she gasps.
I stop and lean back. “Is that really what you were going to say?”
She straightens her shirt. “Maybe.”
I reach for her again and she squeals, pushing herself back toward the door. “Yes, yes, okay? Geez, don’t let it go to your head.”
Before I have a chance to change my mind, I tell her, “Well, you’re not bad yourself.”
“Thanks,” she says softly.
I’m about to start up the truck and get the hell out of here because it has gone from zero to a hundred on the uncomfortable scale, when she scoots over next to me.
She’s right there. Looking at me. And it’s pretty obvious what’s coming next. The thing is, I want that too. I’ve wanted it for weeks. But at the same time, I don’t want to ruin what we have. Besides, my focus on the field has been good. Really good. I’m doing what I need to do.
“I don’t want to mess anything up,” I tell her before I realize that probably doesn’t make any sense to her.
“I know,” she says, like she completely understands. “And I promise you won’t.”
And then she touches my cheek, leans in, and kisses me.
WHEN I say
“I promise,”
it is really
a promise
to myself
more than it is
to him.
Nothing else
can happen
until after
the championship.
Tonight,
while we were
driving,
I could see
how much
pressure
he’s under.
I don’t want
to add to that.
I won’t
add to that.
Not right now.
But I wanted him
to know how I feel.
I wanted him
to know,
in no uncertain terms,
how much I care about him.
That no matter what
happens at the end
of these two weeks,
whether he wins or loses,
it won’t change
how I feel about him.
Words have
this way of getting
mixed up
when we’re trying
too hard.
I didn’t want
to take that chance.
They say a picture
is worth a
thousand words.
I bet a kiss
is worth
ten times that.
You can say
so much
with so little.
HOLY SHIT.
It finally happened.
And what do you know, I let myself kiss her and managed to ignore the alarms going off in my head: Danger! Danger! Step away from the girl! Step AWAY from the girl!
It was really nice.
When we’re done, she scoots over to the other side of the seat and buckles up. “We should probably go,” she says. “It’s getting late.”
“Oh. Right.” I turn the engine on and start backing out of the gravel road.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, for the second time tonight.
This time, I answer more enthusiastically. “Yes. Everything’s great!”
She chuckles. “Okay, Sunny Bunny.”
I look over at her. “Did you just call me Sunny Bunny? Man, Benny calls me Little Miss Sunshine. What is it with you people?”
“Well, my mom used to call me Sunny Bunny. I think you’re a lot like me. Always trying to keep things positive, for the sake of other people.”
I think you’re a lot like me.
I recall the words she said earlier. I think we both want the same thing.
Are we really that much alike? Is that why it’s so easy being with her?
We drive toward town, silence filling up the space between us. I turn the music back up.
“You’re taking me home?” she asks as we drive past Murphy’s Hill.
“Yeah. Is that okay? Or did you want to go back to the party?”
“No. Home’s fine.” Pause. “It feels weird calling it that. I mean, because it’s not my home. Not really.”
“Sure it is.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You live there with people who care about you.” I shrug. “That’s home.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“It’ll be all right, Lauren. You’ll see.”
WHEN HE pulls into
the Jiffy Mart
parking lot,
I can’t help but laugh.
“My treat,” he says.
“Get whatever you want.”
I know
a convenience store
is about as far
from romantic
as you can get,
but I am truly touched
by how hard he’s trying
to make me happy.
“What sounds good to you?”
I ask as he opens the door for me
and helps me out of his truck.
“Bugles and a slushie.
You?”
“Same.”
“Copycat.”
We stand there,
in the middle of
the parking lot,
just inches away
from each other.
“But I liked Bugles first,” I say,
“so I think you’re the copycat.”
“Crap. You’re right.”
We walk toward
the door and he says,
“So, the friends thing.
It’s over now, right?
Man, I knew it’d be too hard.”
He starts to put his arm
around my shoulders,
but I duck and turn.
“It’s not over,” I tell him.
He stops. “It’s not?”
“No.
Not until you win state.”
He crosses his arms.
“Have you been talking to my dad?”
“Colby, you have a lot on your mind.
Get through the next couple of weeks.
Then we can … pick up where we left off.”
“But —”
“I promised I wouldn’t let
you mess anything up.
This is how I do that.”
We go around the store,
getting our snacks.
“Two weeks?” he asks
when we get to the register.
“Two weeks.
Saturday night.
Your favorite restaurant.”
“What if we don’t win?” he asks.
I smile.
“I’m in no matter what.”
“TWO WEEKS is a long time,” I say on the way to her aunt and uncle’s house.
She takes a drink of her blue-raspberry slushie. “It really isn’t.”
“I think it is.”
“It’ll fly by. You’ll see.”
“I was a good friend, wasn’t I?” I ask.
She laughs. “The best. Until tonight, when you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
“Hey, you’re the one —”
She throws a couple of Bugles at me. “Stop. We shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“So why’d you do it? Get my hopes up like that?” I pull into the driveway and put the truck into park.
“Colby, I didn’t get your hopes up.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. Look at it this way. Instead of dreading the game that could change your life in a hundred different ways, now you can’t wait for it. Right?”
Oh my God. She’s right.
“You’re brilliant.” She nods as she opens the door and hops out. “Hey, Lauren?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really glad I ran into you tonight. It’s just what I needed.”
“Me too. Good night.”
“Good night.”
As I head home, I realize for once in a long, long time, I feel like everything is going to be all right.
Sunny Bunny. That’s me.
SUNDAY,
the kids
wake me up
early because
we’re going
to the zoo.
I’ve never been
to a zoo.
Not one time.
But I don’t
tell them that.
It’s funny how
they don’t even
ask me if I want
to go, they just
assume I do.
And they’re right.
We play
the license plate
game on the drive
to Portland.
Andrew’s really
good at it,
often the first
to find the letter
we’re looking for.
Once inside
the zoo gates,
I see every animal
through little
Demi’s eyes.
The chimps are cute.
The bears are scary.
The penguins are funny.
The elephants are big!
The baby elephant, Lily,
doesn’t stray far from
her mother, Rose.
When Rose reaches
her trunk over and
rests it on Lily’s
back for a moment,
a sweet sign of affection,
the crowd lets out
a collective “aw.”
I feel my heart
breaking
a little more.
What I wouldn’t give
for a little bit
of motherly love
like that.
SUNDAY MORNING, as I’m lying there checking my phone, it rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Benny! How are you?”
“Pretty good.”
“You sound great! I’ve been thinking about you. Wasn’t sure of the best time to call. You heard about the game?”
“Yeah. Awesome.”
“Well, it was all for you.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“I miss you, man,” I tell him. “Are things going well?”
“Working hard.”
“Good! I know you are. I can’t wait until you come home and things are back to the way they were before.”
“Won’t ever … be the same,” he says.
The way he says it, it feels like someone is ripping my chest wide open. “No, I guess not. But you gotta know, everyone wants you to come home, Benny. When you’re ready, of course.”
Again, he doesn’t say anything, so I keep talking.
“I have to decide what to do about college. Soon. The recruiters are starting to breathe down my neck again, with the season winding down, and my dad is about ready to kill me if I don’t make up my mind. I don’t know what to do.”
After it’s out, I regret it. I shouldn’t be griping about this with him. What he wouldn’t give to have recruiters breathing down his neck.
“Sorry, Ben —”
“You know … what to do.”
It makes me laugh. “I do?”
“Deep down. You know.”
I swallow hard.
“Listen,” he says. “Just … listen.”
“But I’m scared,” I say, in almost a whisper.
“It’s your life,” he says. “Live it. Be happy.”
“What about you? Are you ever gonna be happy again?”
“Yes. I’m happy. Now.”
“Now?”
“I’m alive. So lucky. I’m happy. Want that … for you.”
I can’t believe this conversation. It should be me telling him to be happy. Look at all he’s lost. Instead, I’m the miserable one, and for what?
“Going to state hasn’t really changed anything for me,” I tell him. “I don’t want to play college ball.”
“More to life … than football.”
“Benny, is this really you, or is this someone pretending to be you?”
“It’s me.”
“You’re different,” I tell him.
“Yeah. I’m looking … at community colleges now. Want to do something … in the medical field. You know. Help people. Gives me … something to … work for.”
“Oh man. Benny. That’s great. You can do it. I know you can.”
“Working hard,” he says again.
“So. You gonna tell me to win state?”
“Nope.”
“How come?”
“You got … enough pressure. Won’t do that … to you.”
“Yeah.”
“Be happy, Pynes.” He pauses. “Promise?”
I close my eyes. “I promise.”
AS WE head
back toward
Willow and
away from the zoo
and the big city of Portland,
the topic of
conversation
is where to stop
for dinner.
Everyone’s
&
nbsp; hungry.
No one can
agree.
No one
knows
what
happens
next.
It’s a tense
few minutes.
Just like Colby.
Just like me.
Neither one of us
knows what
happens next.
It’s hard to be
happy in the now
when you can’t
stop worrying
about the future.
What I want
is to trust that
everything will
work out.
To believe
with all my heart
that I’ll end up
where I belong.
We end up
stopping at
a twenty-four-hour diner.
No one complains.
Everyone’s just happy
to be somewhere
with food.
Everything
worked out.
We ended up
somewhere,
together,
and that’s
what really
matters.
HE MAKES it sound so easy.
Be happy.
Like you can just get everyone on your side and happiness will magically appear, no problem. Still, I promised. I’ve got to figure out my next move. There’s no one to coach me on this one. I’m on my own.
I’m about to head toward the bathroom to take a shower, when Dad rushes into my room.
“Colby, get dressed. An ambulance is on its way. Something’s wrong with your gram.”
I stand there in total panic. “What do you mean something’s wrong?”
“She might be having a heart attack. I don’t know. Just … get dressed. I’m going outside to wait for the ambulance.”