Chapter Twenty-One

Haley

I’m sitting in the gazebo at town square, drawing the way fall has come to Culler. The town has turned autumn. The leaves from the big center oak trees litter the ground in an array of colors. The shop windows are decorated with pumpkins, with oranges and red and yellows. People are layered in jackets or scarves, boots, and a few hang on to summer in flip-flops. That’s the great thing about the South as the seasons change: you can usually dress either way. I’m sure to draw the coffee cart guy who sits outside on the corner of the town square, opposite side of Lou. Lou hates that thing, it competes for business, and a few years ago they made a deal that he’d sell only apple cider and hot cocoa.

Hands cover my eyes, and I can tell from the roughness of them and the smell in the air that it’s Jake. “I have a surprise.”

“For me?”

“Yes,” he says, pressing his lips to the back of my neck. “For the prettiest girl I know.” I scoff at the cheesiness of it as he removes his hands from my face and lowers two cups of apple cider in front of me. “One is cinnamon, and one is regular. I wasn’t sure which you liked.”

“Regular.” He hands me one. “Thank you,” I say, and he peers over my shoulder toward my art. Jake studies it for a moment, then looks across the square, back at the art, then at me.

“This is gorgeous.”

I smile. “It’s a work in progress.”

“You’re so good at this. Have you thought more about that art camp at the museum?”

“I’ve thought about it.” I say. “I already know you’re going to ask, and I haven’t come to an answer yet.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I think if you’re good at something, if you have talent, you should want to share it with everyone. Don’t deprive the world of what you’re good at. Change the world with it.”

I shake my head. “That’s awfully poetic for you, Jake Lexington.”

He flashes me a grin. “I’m a very poetic dude.”

“What are you going to do with your talent?”

“Football is hardly a talent.”

“I disagree. Not everyone can do it.”

“I actually have been thinking about something. Seth wants to go to a football game. What if we find a way to involve all the kids in Homecoming?”

“Like get everyone a ticket? I bet the Belles would help.”

He shakes his head, and his eyes light up. “It needs to be more than that. I want them to feel like rockstars.”

“Like how?”

“I don’t fully know yet.”

It’s nice to have Jake want to do something positive for the kids. I don’t think I ever imagined that would be a thing he did, but I can see it all over his face. “Well, let’s think about it some more. It’s a good idea to include them.”

“I don’t think Seth’s doing so well,” Jake says quietly. He picks the lid of his cider. “Do you think he’ll make it to Homecoming?”

I reach out and grab his hand. “I hope so.”

The rest of the unsaid words linger there between us, neither of us really sure what to say about it. That’s the hardest part of working with sick kids. You get attached, and then they’re gone.

“You should see if he wants to go on Friday,” I say. “Call his mom.”

“I can do that?”

I nod. “I’ll get you the number.”

“You’re awesome,” he says, kissing me quickly and leaving the taste of cinnamon on my lips. “Let’s go do something else.”

“Like what?”

His eyes twinkle. “Pack up your art and I’ll take you.”

A few minutes later, we’re standing in the park at the middle school. Leaves are piled up in three enormous stacks on one side of the yard. The jungle gym is a lot smaller than I remember it being, and so are the swings, but Jake looks at me. “Race you.”

“Go!” I yell, and we run through the playground toward the swings, like we all did when we were kids. Jake tries to cut me off halfway there, but I dodge him and beat him by a step to the swings. We’re both laughing, and my face is red from running when he kisses me. God, it’s a good kiss. We pull apart; he sits next to me on a swing, and we push off the ground.

“You know what’s funny?” I ask him once we’ve both got a little bit of swing going. He looks at me, waiting. “I always used to dream about kissing you on these swings.”

He grins. “Well, now you have. Cross that one off your bucket list.”

I laugh. “A few years too late.”

“Better late than never,” he says. “Where else did you dream about kissing me? Maybe I can make some more of them happen.” He winks at me.

God.

I have to look away. “I’ll prepare you a list.”

“A list, huh?”

“Don’t mock me.”

“But it’s so fun,” he says. I pout, and he chuckles. “I’m playing. I am into lists.”

“Really?”

“No, but I am into you, so I’m down with lists. Especially if they involve kissing you.” My heart flips inside my chest, and it takes everything inside of me to not lean into him right now for a kiss. I can’t believe we’re here now, me and him, like this. It’s everything I’ve ever imagined and never dreamed I could have.

“What are you thinking?”

I point to the large piles of leaves. “Race you!”

And while the swing is in midair, I jump off and barrel roll toward the ground. It’s way less graceful than it was in my mind, but Jake is right behind me as we run toward the piles of leaves. I jump in, followed by him. We’re laughing, throwing leaves at each other, making snow angels in the piles, and when he kisses me again, everything is perfect. Truly perfect.

“I can’t believe you want a milkshake right now,” I say to Jake, my art kit over my shoulder.

He shrugs. “What? You saying you don’t want a Lou’s Pumpkin Pie milkshake?”

“I’d never say that.”

“Alright then,” he says, opening the door for me.

We stand side by side at the counter while we order and wait for the milkshakes. His elbow is pressed against my arm, a small, innocent touch. “Today was fun,” he says.

Before I can respond, someone calls his name across the diner. I know immediately that it’s my brother. We both look over our shoulders, and Chris pauses in his tracks when he sees us, Jake moves his arm down.

Chris eyes me. “Hey, y’all.” He looks between me and Jake. “What’s going on? Weird to see you two here together.”

Do not let on that anything is up.

“Yeah, we saw each other outside coming in,” I bluff.

Jake shrugs. “I opened the door for her. Didn’t see y’all.” He looks over Chris’s shoulder toward the other guys and waves. They all nod back or wave, at least the ones who see him. Some are too busy shoving fries into their mouths.

“You staying?” my brother asks him.

I do my best not to look at Jake. Chris is watching me in that twin way, without actually watching. If I look at Jake or react, it’s going to be written all over my face. He’s going to know there’s something I’m hiding, and then he’ll put the pieces together.

“Here you go,” the waitress says, setting two pumpkin pie milkshakes in front of us, along with one bill. I yank it off the bar before Chris sees, at least I hope.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay for a bit,” Jake says.

“You don’t usually drink those,” Chris says to me.

“Jake inspired me,” I say. I grab my milkshake and my straw. “See you at home,” I say to Chris.

Chris grabs some onion rings off the bar as I head toward the door. Jake sends me a look, and then he and my brother head back toward the other football players.

I’m at home, looking up that art program again. I haven’t closed the page since we found it. It actually sounds really awesome. They’re still taking portfolios and applications for a few more weeks. It starts in January, and it could look great on college applications.

It may be too late to actually matter for colleges, but I still want to see if I can get into programs.

There’s a knock on my door, and I look up at my brother. “Hey.”

He lingers in the doorway, hands hanging off the doorframe. “Have you been spending a lot of time with Jake?”

I shake my head. “He’s volunteering at my rehab center for his community service hours.”

Chris nods. “Yeah, I get that. Maybe that’s why he’s been different lately.”

“Different how?” I ask. Is he suspecting something, too? It’s not like Chris.

My brother comes in and sits on my bed. “Happier. More like the old Jake.”

“Hmm,” I say, and that sparks a little joy in me. I hope him being happier is somewhat because of me. “I think he likes being with the kids.”

“He stopped drinking. Like, just stopped. I’ve seen it.”

I knew he had cut back. I kinda remember that from Hoops’s party, and I hadn’t seen him drinking, but I didn’t realize he’d stopped entirely. I smile. “That’s good, though, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” he says. “I don’t know what sparked it, but whatever it is, I’m happy.”

“Me, too,” I say.

Chris exhales and smiles. “I think I may get my best friend back.”

“Good,” I say. The last few months have been hard on so many people. “But you know, he didn’t go anywhere.”

“In a way he did. I’m still worried he might.” He looks at me. “I’m gonna ask you a question that I reckon you won’t like.”

I sit up straighter in my bed. “Okay…”

“Is there something going on with you two?”

Panic rises and builds, swirls around me and tugs, but I have to stay calm. I can’t get worked up or he will for sure know immediately. “Chris…”

“I’ve already asked him.”

He asked Jake. Chris’s eyes are on me. Play it cool. “What did he say?”

“No.”

I shrug. Jake said no. Does that mean anything? Maybe he truly isn’t interested. I should definitely follow suit. “Then why are you asking me?”

My brother runs a hand through his hair. I swear, he can’t be still sometimes. “Because I have this feeling, Haley.” Chris’s eyes focus on me. “I think he likes you.”

A breath freezes inside my chest. “And that bothers you?”

“After everything with Griggs, yeah.”

I shift in my spot on the bed. “So it bothers you because of football?”

Chris comes and sits down in my desk chair. He rolls it into to the middle of my floor. “No, it bothers me because I’ve already told you that you deserve someone awesome. And I love Jake; he’s my best friend. He’s practically my brother, but he’s still not the best person for you. You don’t know him like I do. Plus, he’s really focused on improving his life. I don’t want him to be distracted.”

I take a breath and shake my head. “I don’t understand why you’re even asking me this when he’s already told you. And I have, too.”

“I wanted to ask you directly, again, in case something has changed.”

I stare at my brother. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

He nods and says, “Okay,” and he gets up from my chair. “Thanks.”

But he doesn’t look satisfied as he walks away. Can he feel that I’m lying? It’s a new thing between us, and I hate it, but he’s not going to understand.

Later, around eleven, Jake texts me. You awake?

Yes

Want to watch a movie?

I think about it, but he can’t come here, because if my brother sees him, then I won’t be able to explain that. But I want to see him. Can’t do it here.

Come over.

There are about a hundred reasons I shouldn’t, including that I just lied to Chris, but I don’t care about any of them. Maybe this is one of those risks and not caring what other people think moments. Whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know. But I am fighting for a life here, and maybe that means going against the grain a little and finding what I want.

K. Give me 10.