My lungs were about to pop. I could barely see with all the sweat in my eyes. The roads were icy, but I kept running. I was somewhere on the back roads of town and didn’t know where I was going. I was just running. The past twelve hours had been the worst in my life. And I’ve had a lot of bad hours.
Most of it was a blur. I’d gotten home the night before, totally elated after the ski trip. I walked in the house and saw boxes everywhere. My dad said, like he had a hundred times before, “Time for a fresh start, Mikey.” I kicked over a bunch of boxes. My dad grunted that like it or not, we were moving. To Nelson, no less. “We’ll sort out school later.”
I threw a beer bottle and broke the kitchen window.
“I’ve finally found somewhere that I belong,” I’d yelled. Then I slammed the door to my room and stayed there all night too angry to change out of my clothes or sleep.
This wasn’t like all the other times we moved. For once I had a reason to stay.
But now, once again, I was out running because my life was a steaming pile of crap.
I felt like breaking something other than the kitchen window. I used to love it when my buddies and I would smash car windows. Or maybe I’d go steal something. I hadn’t done that in months.
An awful acid taste crept into my mouth. I ran to the nearest shrub and chucked all over it. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and chucked again.
Okay, maybe I didn’t really want to steal anything. The owner of the shrub was glaring out her living-room window at me. I took off up a gravel road. It looked peaceful up there.
“Howdy, partner, what’re you doin’ in these parts?” The voice surprised me. I spun around.
On no. Not Lisa. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even her.
Lisa did a sideways jump so that she was standing right in front of me.
“How did you know it was me?” I wiped the last bit of barf from the side of my mouth.
“I was out for a walk,” she said. “Recognized the hoodie.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
Lisa studied my face. “What’s up, Longridge? Are you okay?”
“Um, no, I’m fine.” Well actually, my dad is a jerk and I just puked all over that shrub over there.
“You don’t look fine. I live near here. Wanna come over for a minute?”
This was all so weird. All of a sudden Lisa was back in my life, calling me her little nicknames. I’d been thinking about that. Was I only in her exclusive club again because I saved her friend?
I shook my head. “No. Not right now.” I started running again. Lisa ran along beside me. Darn, she had me trapped.
“Seriously, dude, what’s up? Are you just not in the mood to talk?”
“Yeah. I just want to go for a run.”
“Okay, Longridge. See you around.” She hung back and let me run ahead.
After a couple minutes I heard footsteps on gravel.
“Please?” Lisa skidded in front of me again. “We just went to Timmy’s.”
Call me a cheap sell, but the thought of donuts perked me up, especially after all that running.
I sunk my teeth into a Boston cream, fresh from the Tim Hortons box, so sweet and chewy and good.
“Wasn’t the big snowball fight fun?” Lisa said through her jelly donut. “That was wicked when you and Tim snuck up on Brian.”
“Yeah. That was awesome.”
“It’ll be different when we’re in regular classes in January. But at least we’ll all be together.”
I looked down and picked some of the icing off my donut. A coconut chocolate one this time. “I might not be there.”
“What?” Boy, could she ever shriek when she wanted to. “What are you talking about?”
“My dad wants to move.”
“Now? In the middle of the school year?” Lisa stood up and slammed her hands on the table. “Well, tell him you can’t! You just can’t! Explore needs you! Does he know that you just saved someone’s life?” She put her hand to her forehead and started pacing around the kitchen.
I put down the rest of my donut. Since when did Explore need me? I was only there as a pity case.
“Actually, never mind. I gotta go. Thanks for the donuts.” I got up to go, pulling my hood up over my eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Stay, and we’ll figure this out.”
I was already heading for the door to put my shoes on. But where was I going to go from here? Home? No. The 7-Eleven? No. Officer Lardface’s office?
“Earth to Longridge!”
I realized that I had been standing by the front door, holding my right shoe and staring off into space.
She tugged off my hood and laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t unleash the Hooded Fang on the world when he’s this upset.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little. “Well, I guess I could stay for one more donut.”
We were back at the kitchen table. I took a big bite of an apple fritter. I chewed it for a good long time. Lisa asked what was up again.
It all came out. I told Lisa about my messed-up life, my messed-up father and how I’m a lying, stealing juvenile delinquent. I told her I couldn’t remember the names of all the towns my dad and I had lived in and how I didn’t want to move again. I even threw in the part about my mom being only seventeen when she had me and that she died in a car accident when I was four. I don’t think I’ve ever talked so long in my life. Lisa nodded the entire time.
When I finished, Lisa was staring at me. “You’re not really a troublemaker though, are you? I mean, you haven’t done anything to prove it so far in Explore. Maybe you’re just easily influenced.”
Who was she, Officer Lardface? It would be way better to be a born troublemaker rather than a by-default troublemaker. I shrugged.
But then Lisa smiled. “So I guess us Granolas finally touched your cold, hard heart, eh, Mike?”
“It took a while,” I said. “But yeah.”
Then I remembered about the Granolas only liking me because I saved Kayla. I asked Lisa about that.
“No! I can’t believe you thought that!” I think Lisa genuinely felt bad. She paused. “Although that was pretty amazing. You pulled her right out of that tree well. You, Mike Longridge!” She poked her finger into my chest as she said it.
Lisa and I talked about lots that afternoon. We talked about the future. Lisa had some pretty interesting plans for after high school. She wanted to become a doctor and volunteer in orphanages in Guatemala. I always thought I’d just work in a gas station or something after graduation. Maybe I could do something cool too.
After a while Lisa stood up. “Okay, enough talking. We have to do something about this moving-away problem. I have an idea. Be right back.”
Lisa jogged downstairs to the basement.
I looked around the kitchen. I’d been too wound up earlier to notice what Lisa’s house looked like. It was a regular, run-of-the-mill house, with lived-in furniture and family photos. It was tidy and there were lots of books. I wondered what Lisa’s bedroom looked like. I had always imagined her living in a mansion.
Lisa returned with a pad of paper and a pen.
“Okay, Longridge. You’re going to do it the old-fashioned way. You’re going to write your dad a letter and tell him how you feel.”
“A letter?” What was this, a self-help seminar?
Lisa nodded. “And you’re going to add this photo. I just printed it.” She handed the photo to me. It was all of us Explorers up on the mountain. I was standing beside Lisa and Tim with the biggest grin on my face.
“Lisa,” I said, studying the photo, “have I become a Granola? Have I totally sold out?”
Lisa laughed. “No way, José. Tie-dye and hemp jewelry will never touch your lily-white body. Besides, sold out from what? Would all the criminal losers you used to hang out with be so disappointed in you?”
I pretended to be offended. We laughed. Then Lisa got all businesslike again.
“Okay, you gotta write that letter to your dad.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Lisa passed the pen to me. “I’ll help. You write.”
If Lisa was surprised at my kindergarten writing skills, she didn’t show it. It took about three hours that afternoon, but we did it. The letter had scratched-out parts all over it, and probably had tons of words spelled wrong, but it said what I wanted it to say.
“Now sign and seal. Let’s go drop it off.”
We went to the house that night when I knew my Dad would be out with Big Lips. I taped the letter to the TV screen. That way he wouldn’t miss it.
“Mission accomplished?” Lisa asked when I got back outside.
“Mission accomplished. Do you think it’ll work?”
“Well, if it doesn’t, we gave it our best shot.”
We went back to Lisa’s house for milk and cookies. Yup, we really had milk and cookies for a bedtime snack. Her mom and dad, Abby and Henry, were home from a day of hiking. Henry was a head shorter than Abby, who was this tall, beautiful blond lady. They were super nice.
After that I went to bed on the old couch in the Park’s rec room and had the best night’s sleep I’d had in years.