Not So Easy

  “I hope he doesn’t, like, hurt this one,” she said as they drove past. “He served time in Juvy for beating up a girl last year. Alex, my boyfriend, did an internship at the youth detention center for college that quarter. He told me all about Nate. He’s rotten to the core, according to Alex. He said Nate’s dad came in to see him one day and he punched his son out cold. His dad’s quite the bully himself, it seems.”

  “Really? Then why does Nate bully others if he knows how bullying feels?”

  “Not sure. Some say abused children grow up to be abusers.” She shook her head. “That’s a cop-out if you ask me. My mother’s father used to beat her and her brother for the littlest things. Yet my mother, like, never laid a hand on me or my three sisters. When I asked her once why she didn’t follow in her father’s footsteps, she told me she could never hurt someone she loves the way her father hurt her. It made no sense. The mere thought of it made her sick.”

  “She must be pretty amazing,” Max said, wondering why some repeated the cycle of abuse while others broke free of it.

  Bambi slid the ashtray open and pulled out a stick of gum, offering Max a piece. “Like, the way I see it, it’s a matter of choice. Some people choose wisely, and some choose poorly,” she said, lowering her voice, sounding like the Knight in the Indiana Jones movie The Last Crusade. Bambi grinned. “I was lucky. My mom chose wisely. Maybe I’m oversimplifying it, but that’s how I feel.”

  Max wondered if it was really that simple. His parents were great parents, but so were both sets of grandparents. The idea of abuse was foreign to him.

  “So, do you feel comfortable enough to share a story next time? We don’t, like, bite you know,” she offered a playful smile.

  “Yes,” Max answered soundly, despite JD’s objections. He pointed out his house as they turned onto Valley Drive.

  “I’m glad you came, JD. You have a lot of talent.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, wait. I forgot about your accident. How are you doing? The paper said you were in a coma for over a week.”

  Max wondered if she bought into the theory about JD being responsible, but he didn’t sense any judgment coming from her, only concern. After spending just a few hours with Bambi, Max could see why JD liked her. “I’m getting stronger every day,” he assured her. It was true, in spite of the headaches that still plagued him.

  “I’m glad. Stop by the library again. I miss having you around.” She waved as she drove away.

  Max went straight to the bedroom and gathered up JD’s writings and spread them out on the bed. Time to do more research into JD’s world.

  One notebook was filled with poems. Max hated poems. To be fair, he read through a few pages. The poems were unlike any he’d read before. They weren’t mushy, girly poems declaring love, but rather poems of a young man struggling to belong. Max read a depressing cinquain poem JD’d written in red.

  JD

  Lumpy Larry

  Avoiding, hiding, running,

  Scared and all alone

  Me

  The rest of his poems were depressing also. Phrases and lines from several stuck in his mind. Phrases like:

  Will no one befriend me, will no one dare?

  Not being is an option that can’t be so wrong.

  Yelled at and mocked; Defaced and ignored.

  Max put the poem book down. Those depressing thoughts were not what he wanted to dwell on or share with the group. He picked up the notebook with a large silver spaceship on the cover. “This must be the story Bambi helped him do research for,” Max guessed. He read the first several pages, instantly hooked. He found the story entertaining and hilarious. Never would he have guessed JD had such a rich sense of humor. The main hero was a bumbling inter-galactic warrior; sort of a Johnny English meets Hans Solo. Max laughed out loud several times. As much as Max owned the baseball diamond, JD owned writing. The story went on for about a hundred pages, then stopped right in the middle of an adventure. He scanned the rest of JD’s writings and with each story it was the same thing; halfway through the adventure, the story would end, as if he’d just given up.

  The half-written stories were a reflection of JD’s life, not that Max blamed him. JD walked a difficult road, and Max wondered what he would have been like if he were born into his situation.

  “We need to do some running,” Max said, wanting to clear his head. He changed into shorts and his tennis shoes. Almost seven now, if he ran for half an hour, he could be home and get in his upper body workout before Tim got back from the racetrack. Max hiked straight to the jogging path at Applegate Park and began his run. He and Emma had run on the path too many times to count over the past two years. Memories of their days spent in the park filled him with a longing to see Emma and hold her just one more time. He hadn’t realized how fast he’d run until the urge to vomit raced up his throat.

  “Sorry, buddy. I keep forgetting you’re not ready for a hard run yet, but we’ll get you there.” Max could have sworn he heard JD groan. He chuckled as he leaned against a leggy willow tree.

  “JD, we meet again.” Emma. He turned to see her pretty face smiling at him.

  “Hi,” he said, wiping the sweat off his face onto his shirtsleeve.

  “Are you here jogging?”

  “Yes. I want to get in better shape.” He playfully patted his belly.

  “I can see you’ve already lost weight. My dad said you were in the hospital for almost two weeks.” She turned and walked along the pathway as she spoke. Max took it as an invitation to follow. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Not bad. I still have headaches. The doctors said those will fade in time. I’m hoping the exercise will help too.”

  “That’s good news,” she said brightly.

  “Yes. They’re pretty nasty. I’ll be glad when they finally stop.”

  “How’s your nose? Jeff told me what happened. I’m sorry. He really is a good guy.”

  “All better.” Max gingerly touched his nose, forcing his face not to react to the pain. “How’s the knee?” He looked down at her bandage.

  “Fine. The nurse loves to overreact.” She brushed her hand through the air. “I thought you should know, my dad filed the report. He had a copy sent to the school as well. Hopefully things will get better for you now. I’m real sorry about the way you’ve been treated.”

  “I’m grateful for all you’ve done today. I think Leo would have beaten the crap out of me if you hadn’t said something.”

  They came around the south edge of the path. Max peered up at the oak tree looming in front of them. So did Emma. He glanced over at her as she stopped and stared at it. Her blue eyes filled with pain. She remembered. Of course she’d remember. It was their tree. He wished he could take her in has arms and kiss her again, like he did that hot June day two years ago.

  “Are you alright?” he asked gently, knowing the answer.

  “Yes.” She stumbled a few steps back. “But I really need to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before Max could say anything, she bolted away. He watched as she wiped her tears from her face.

  “I’m sorry, Em,” he whispered after her.

  Torn between the sorrow that engulfed his heart, and the survivor guilt-slash-utter confusion that JD insisted on harnessing himself with, it was too much. Max sank down against their tree, and dropping his head against the rough bark of the mighty oak, he let the memories of Em take him back in time.

  Chapter 12

  “Wait! I have the perfect line. ‘Do you have a Band-Aid? I just scraped my knee falling for you.’ What do you think?” Leo asked.

  Max looked at his best friend since kindergarten and rolled his eyes. “Anything’s better than ‘My love for you is like diarrhea, I just can’t hold it in.’ But it’s still stupid. Do you actually get dates with pickup lines like that?”

  “Do you ever see me with a girl on my arm?” he replied painfully.

  “Lisa York,” Max pointed out. Leo rolled his eyes. “She’s cut
e, so what’s the problem?”

  “She’s a clinging vine. Every time we go out she hangs all over me. It’s smothering. Besides, the only reason she’s going out with me is to get to you.” Leo kicked a discarded plastic water bottle over next to a garbage can.

  “That’s not true.” Max shook his head and glanced casually over at Emma McKay in her white t-shirt and blue jogging shorts. She moved to Port Fare a month ago and Max became immediately enamored with her. He knew that she drove a cherry red Acura, that she hated history class, and that she came to the park every other day to run. He knew everything about her, yet he’d never spoken a word to her.

  But all that was about to change. He brought Leo along for support, wishing now he hadn’t. His stupid pickup lines only made Max more nervous.

  “Okay. I’m going to give you my best line,” his friend said heroically. “I’ve been saving it for just the right girl, but since you are my best friend and all, I’m going to let you have it.”

  Max pinched his eyes shut, preparing himself for another stupid line. After Leo finished, Max opened his eyes. “Okay. Maybe that one,” he conceded.

  “I know. It’s a good one. Now you better get over there. She’s almost done stretching.” Leo pushed Max toward Emma. “And don’t forget to trip.”

  Max jogged over to Emma who stood taking a long draw on her water bottle. He ran up to her, took a deep breath, and following Leo’s advice he pretended to trip. As he stumbled a few steps, Emma reached out to stable him.

  Max drew on his best smile, swallowed the lump in his throat, and said, “I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you.”

  Emma’s hand flew to her mouth as she covered her giggle. “Does that line actually work?”

  “You tell me.” Max hoped she didn’t notice how red his ears were.

  “I’m Emma McKay.” She smiled and Max’s heart melted.

  “Max Sánchez.”

  “Hi, Max. So, I lost my phone number, can I borrow yours?”

  Max laughed. “One cheesy pick-up line deserves another?”

  “Something like that.” She grabbed her ponytail and twisted it around her finger. It made the ponytail look like a mini tornado.

  “Someone told me you’re the starting pitcher next year. Pretty impressive for a junior.”

  “I guess they’re desperate,” Max said humbly.

  “Really? Because the way I hear it, you’re the first junior in twenty-five years to be named pitcher at Port Fare.”

  “You’ve been researching me, have you?” He offered her a crooked smile.

  “Maybe.” Emma laughed. “I’m on the school newspaper. They’re running a story about it next week and I proofed it for errors.”

  Max nodded. “So, do budding journalists like the frozen yogurt at the Burger Barn?”

  “Frozen yogurt? I sort of figured you for an ice cream kind of guy.”

  “My mom would give me up for adoption if I dared to eat ice cream. She put the word health in nut.” Max joked, plunging his sweaty hands into the pockets of his jean shorts.

  “I’d love to. I’m not in the mood for jogging today anyway.” She followed Max to his car and he opened the door for her. She glanced at him in surprise.

  “My mom would give me up for adoption if I didn’t the open door for a girl also,” he said. She smiled and settled into the tan Camry. He all but skipped around and got in.

  “What brought you to the park?” Emma asked.

  “I run four days a week when the weather’s good,” he replied, leaving out the part about him stalking her. “How often do you run?”

  “Not very often. Cheerleader tryouts are coming up and I want to be in top condition. Back in Vegas I danced for exercise.”

  “Danced? As in showgirls?” Max tried not to picture her in a spangley showgirl’s costume, complete with feathers, but failed.

  “No” she laughed. “I guess that does sound really bad. I meant aerobics, ballet, modern dance. Those kinds of dancing.”

  “My mom does Zumba.” Max’s face scrunched a little as he remembered finding her and a bunch of other mom’s in leotards doing Zumba in their basement once. The jarring image will forever be burned into his brain.

  “I love Zumba,” she smiled. “It’s quite popular back at my old high school in Vegas.”

  “You moved here from the land of sunshine to the home of the gray. You and your family vampires or something?” Max teased.

  “You aren’t kidding.” She noted the steel gray sky. “I do miss the sun, but I like it here. The people are friendly, and I enjoy having four seasons.” She unrolled her window halfway and lifted her face to the wind. Max thought she looked like an angel.

  He pulled into the drive-thru and ordered two frozen yogurts, chocolate for him, vanilla for her. They drove back to the park and ate in the car, talking for hours.

  “Favorite color?” he asked.

  “Yellow. What’s your all-time favorite movie,” she asked as they toggled back and forth about each other’s favorite things.

  “Napoleon Dynamite,” he answered, to which she said, “Mine too!”

  “Napoleon, give me some of your tots,” Max quoted.

  “No. I’m freakin’ starved. I didn’t get to eat anything today,” she quoted back with a laugh. Max didn’t point out she’d missed a line.

  “Least favorite animal,” Max said.

  “Frogs,” she shivered. “Yet I love snakes. Weird, huh? Okay, what’s your favorite food?”

  “That would have to be my dad’s taco salad. Yours?”

  “Diet Pepsi.”

  “That’s not a food, it’s a drink. And it’s bad for you. Do you have any idea what all that carbonation does to your body?” Max pressed.

  “Hmm, I think I hear your mother again.”

  “Point taken. No more lecturing about food if you promise me something.”

  “Okay?” She laughed nervously.

  “Meet me here tomorrow and we’ll go running together,” he suggested as his heart rate doubled.

  “I’d like that,” she answered softly. “And thanks for the yogurt.” Max watched as she got into her Acura, waving as she drove off.

  The next three weeks of his life consisted of everything Emma. He woke in the morning with her face present in his mind. He did chores, wondering what chores she had. Throughout the day, thoughts of Emma were front and center in his head, so much so Leo seldom called him to hang out anymore.

  “Come on, Leo. I need some help practicing a new pitch I’ve been working on,” Max pleaded one afternoon. “I have a date with Emma tonight and have to practice now so I’ll have time to shower before I see her.”

  “Dude, you’re going running with her. You’ll be a sweaty mess when you’re done. Take a shower after,” Leo reasoned.

  “Are you crazy? I don’t want to stink before we even start running.” He rolled his eyes as if Leo were nuts. “Man, Leo. She’s so amazing. I’ve never met anyone—”

  “I’m sick of hearing about Emma. Shut up already,” Leo complained. “I can’t practice with you. I have a date myself.”

  “With who?” Max asked, tucking his bat into his black canvas bag.

  “Lisa, who else? She wants to double-date with you and Emma. What do you say?”

  “No. I’m not ready to share her yet.” Max put his ball equipment in the trunk of his car and shut the hood.

  “I’m outta here.” Leo stomped off.

  Max hoped he wasn’t mad, but he really didn’t want to share Emma just yet. He’d never met anyone like her before. He was head over heels crazy about her and he hadn’t even kissed her, something he hoped to remedy today. He thought about it all the time, but always chickened out.

  He drove over to the batting cages and practiced his batting instead, then went home to shower. When he arrived at the park, Emma stood there stretching.

  “Hey,” he said with a goofy grin.

  “Hey, back,” she said with an equally goofy grin; a grin Max l
oved.

  “Are you up for a race?” Emma asked.

  “I’m afraid I’d win by the mere fact that I’m six inches taller,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, but,” she slipped a six inch piece of pink paper out of her pocket, “I played around with the numbers a little.”

  “A little? That entire piece of paper is covered with numbers, on both sides.”

  “Only this side has to do with us.” Max smiled at the word us. He liked what that implied. “You’re five-eleven,” she continued, “and I’m five-five. If I have this much of a lead,” she pointed to a number on the paper, “It will compensate for the height difference. Sound good?”

  Max took the paper and pretended to be engrossed. He counted aloud, as if double-checking her figures. He handed the paper back to her and asked in a serious tone, “How do I know you’re not giving yourself an unfair advantage?”

  “You just checked the numbers yourself.” Now mad, she shoved the paper back in her pocket.

  Max found the look of outrage on her face hilarious. “Em, I can tell you with all my heart and soul that I couldn’t understand a word, or rather a formula, that was on your little pink paper.” He gave her a mischievous grin and added, “I suck at math.”

  “Rude!” She playfully slapped his shoulder. “Okay, you can’t start until I’m at the oak tree. I’d tell you how many yards that is, but I’m afraid with your math impediment, it might confuse you.” This time she smiled mischievously. “We race around the track and meet back at the tree, first one wins.”

  She turned and jogged to the tree, patting it as she reached it. She held up her hand and shouted. “Ready?” Max gave her a thumbs-up. “Go!”

  It didn’t take long for Max to catch up to her. He stayed a reasonable distance behind so not to discourage her, plus he rather enjoyed the view. As they got closer to the tree he ratcheted up his speed.

  But so did Em, reaching the tree first. “That . . . is what . . . you get . . . for gawking . . . Mr. Sánchez,” Em said between breaths.

  “How do . . . you know . . . I was . . . gawking, Ms. Emma?” Max questioned, equally out of breath.