Chapter Nine

Sam pulled his skateboard from the back of his car and watched Jordan do the same. His car was the only one parked in the high school parking lot, and he let out a sigh of relief. He was glad Paul and Jake weren’t around. At least not yet.

It wasn’t that Sam was embarrassed by his friends … well, at least that wasn’t the biggest reason. He mostly just hated the tension in the air between him and Jordan and wanted that cleared up before more people were brought into the picture.

He felt bad though, knowing that Emily and Christopher would be waiting to see them, even though his grandma reaffirmed they’d have time over the week to spend with Jordan.

“So this is where you go to high school?” Jordan eyed the brick building with a puzzled look on his face.

Sam knew the school was as different from their high school in San Diego as it possibly could be. To Sam, Bedford High School looked like the school in the classic movie Back to the Future. In contrast, their high school in San Diego could be compared to an outdoor mall with tall, picture windows and breezy walkways. Their lockers had been outside because the weather was always nice.

Sam watched Jordan’s face, wondering if he was making the same comparisons between “cool” and “lame,” but Jordan glanced away before Sam could guess his thoughts.

Jordan dropped his board, stepped on it, and pushed off with one foot, gliding across the asphalt parking lot, getting his bearings. The ride home hadn’t been silent, but the excitement they had felt when Jordan first arrived hadn’t returned either. Instead, they’d mostly talked about life in San Diego, people they both knew, and Jordan’s plans for after graduation.

Sam, of course, had nothing exciting to share about Bedford. More than that, his plans for the future were about as solid as the clouds that drifted lazily overhead.

Sam wiped the sweat from his forehead and then moved to the sidewalk, where he planted his board near the curb. He thought about showing Jordan the new 360 he’d recently mastered, but even that didn’t sound like fun.

Jordan did some tricks on the flat expanse of the parking lot, but he did them without a smile or the shouts and cheers that usually accompanied his skating.

Sam’s stomach rumbled, and he remembered he hadn’t eaten much of the fast food they’d stopped for earlier. He glanced at the sun that was starting its descent into the horizon and figured his grandma most likely had dinner in the oven. If they left soon they’d be able to join the family.

Still, something inside Sam made him hesitant to take Jordan home with him. He stood on his board and zipped down the sidewalk, turning his body to guide the skateboard smoothly around the corner.

If his friend had made fun of those guys at the restaurant what would he say about Uncle Pete? Or Grandpa? And what would he think about a country music singer coming to the farm?

The more Sam thought about it, the more the air around him seemed to grow heavy, pressing down upon his shoulders. He sucked in a big breath of hot, muggy air and wished he could just skate away.

Instead, Sam skated out to Jordan. “Hey, what do you think about picking up some pizza and taking it over to my friend Paul’s house? We can play video games and hang out and stuff.”

“Guys play video games around here?” Jordan asked.

Sam tried to pretend that comment didn’t annoy him. “Yeah, but instead of car races we play games with tractor races. And instead of war games, we see who can be the first one to scatter seeds on a field. Yeah, those are our video games.” Sam shook his head.

Jordan kicked up his board and then grabbed it with his hand. “Hey, you don’t have to be sarcastic. I was just asking. I mean, I didn’t think—”

“Yeah, maybe you didn’t.” Sam interrupted, striding back toward his car with his board in hand.

“Hey, wait. Is this how it’s going to be the whole time? ’Cause if it is, you might as well drive me back to the airport, and I’ll hang out there until my flight home.”

Sam paused and turned. Jordan was still standing in the same spot in the middle of the parking lot. He had a dejected look on his face. It was the same look, in fact, that Jordan had had when they were eight and he’d accidently broken Sam’s favorite water pistol.

Sam let out a low sigh. “No. It doesn’t have to be this way. Just as long as you … as you …” He paused, trying to figure out what to say. “As long as you keep your thoughts to yourself. Yeah, Nebraska is lame. Or at least parts of it are. But for the next year at least, I have to deal with it. So stop reminding me how different everything is. I’m stuck here, and, well …” Sam looked down and kicked at a rock with his scuffed shoe. “There are some things I actually like.”

He turned back and wondered what Jordan thought of that confession. He got in and stuck his keys into the ignition. Ten seconds later Jordan tossed his board through the half-open side window into the backseat and also got in.

“Does your friend have Dark Journey 2?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah, actually it’s Paul’s favorite game.”

“No one can beat me at that game.” Jordan rolled down the window and rested his arm on the door.

“Wanna bet?” Sam asked, starting the engine and backing up. “Dude, prepare to be crushed.”

As he glanced in the rearview mirror, he noticed the softest hint of a smile in his own reflection.