“What happened?” Nyelle leans in closer, scooping another fingerful of icing out of the tub without taking her eyes off me. There isn’t much more to the story, but she’s sitting on the edge of her branch in expectation.
“What do you mean what happened?”
“To the two of you? Did you love her? Why’d it end? Did you break her heart too?”
“Uh, no. We weren’t in love or anything. I mean, we were in
high school
. We actually broke up two days later.”
Nyelle’s shoulders sink with a disheartened, “Oh.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“What about your first kiss?” she asks, perking back up.
I stop to recall my first kiss. I’ve always considered there being two. The
first
was technically part of a game. The other was by choice. It doesn’t matter—they were both with the same girl. My mouth slides into a small grin. I can’t share this with her. Especially considering she was there.
* * *
“This is the dumbest game ever,” Rae complains, sitting with her legs crossed on the floor of her living room, leaning against the plaid couch.
“You won’t be saying that when the bottle lands on me,” Brady says with a wink.
“Ew, gross!” Rae grimaces. “I’d rather kiss a snake.”
“Oh, you want tongue,” Brady says with a cheesy grin, making us all laugh. Rae flips him off.
“Okay, there’s three girls and three boys,” Richelle declares. “Alternate, and whoever the bottle points closest to is who you have to kiss.” She narrows her eyes at Brady. “And there’s no tongue, sicko.”
“Boo!” Craig protests.
“Nicole, you go first,” Richelle instructs.
Nicole’s face turns bright red. “Me?”
“Yeah. Go ahead,” Richelle repeats.
Nicole looks to me quickly, and I nod in encouragement. I won’t admit it, but I want it to land on me. We’ve been friends for two years, since she moved here in fourth grade. But I like her. I always have. Even if she is a little shy. She’s not bold like Richelle. And Rae is more of a guy than Brady is. Nicole may not have much to say, but I still think she’s… perfect.
I’m holding my breath watching the Mountain Dew bottle spin in a circle. It doesn’t spin around many times before it lands between Richelle and Brady.
“Lucky girl,” Brady says with a smile. My teeth clench, ready to push him over if he touches her.
Nicole leans over the circle so she’s on her hands and knees. Brady leans in, probably expecting more than the quick peck that he receives. I don’t even think she kisses his lips.
“That’s it?” Brady grumbles. “My grandmother kisses longer than that.”
“You’re disgusting.” Rae scowls. “This game is probably the only time you’ll be kissed by a girl in your life, so you’d better stop complaining.”
“My turn,” Richelle announces.
“Hey! I thought I was next. I’m next to Nicole.”
“Girls first,” Richelle tells Craig, who rolls his eyes.
Richelle gives it a forceful spin, but it ends up bouncing across the floor.
“Easy there, sugar lips,” Brady teases, handing her back the bottle. Richelle ignores him and spins it again.
The bottle whips around and around, eventually pointing right at my knee. Richelle presses her lips together to keep from smiling.
“Glasses off, Cal.”
I take them off, and the room immediately is out of focus. I blink. But it doesn’t matter. Craig could be kissing me, and I’d have no idea.
“Just close your eyes,” she instructs me. I hear the guys’ stifled laughs when I do. I wait.
Then something warm presses against my lips. I didn’t know lips could be this soft. And they stay against my mouth for what feels like a long time. I don’t mind. I like it. And when she pulls away, I can feel the blood rush throughout my body, and I immediately try to sit in a different position. The guys start dying laughing. I want to tell them to shut up, but I don’t want the girls to notice what they obviously do.
“So immature,” Richelle huffs. I shove my glasses back on and find her looking at me, her cheeks a bit flushed. She smiles a little, and I smile back.
* * *
“That must’ve been some kiss,” Nyelle says softly, pulling me from thoughts of Richelle. Her reflective blue eyes shift and fall on me. Neither of us says anything for a full minute. Our knees lightly touch as we sit there staring at each other, neither of us looking away. I lean over and brush the stray hair caught on her lips. She draws in a quick breath. And in that second, I’m tempted to kiss her.
Nyelle blinks, like a light’s being flashed before her eyes, and just like that, the moment’s gone. I pull back, holding on to the branch with two hands again.
“I liked this,” she says, inhaling deeply with her eyes closed, drawing her shoulders up. She relaxes them with a strong exhale and smiles brightly. “Thanks for finding the frosting tree with me, Cal. Not many guys would do this.”
“I have to agree with you,” I respond with a nod, still needing a moment to get over what almost happened. I look down at the tangle of branches and wonder: Why
did
I follow her up here? And how the hell am I supposed to get back down?
“We should get going so you’re not late for class.”
Nyelle secures the lid on the frosting and sticks it in her cavernous pocket. She steps down to the next level, and then she’s off—practically hopping down the tree. She does it so effortlessly. It takes me a lot longer. I brace myself as I step on each branch, expecting it to snap beneath my boot.
When I finally reach the ground, Nyelle is already at the street. “I’ll see you around, Cal.”
My gut floods with the familiar anxiety I get when she’s about to leave me. “Nyelle.” She stops in the middle of the street to turn my way. “Want to do something tomorrow night? My roommate’s fraternity, Delta Ep, is having a party.”
“Tomorrow night?” After a thoughtful pause, she responds, “Maybe.”
Before I can figure out how to get in touch with her, she’s walking away again—but not toward campus. I’m tempted to catch up with her, but I need to get to my next class.
“
Maybe
,” I mumble. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
October—Fourth Grade
I step off the bus and start walking toward my house, adjusting the straps of my backpack on my shoulders.
“Hey, Nicole,” Cal says before I walk too far. “Where’s Richelle?”
“At the dentist,” I tell him softly. “Where’s Rae?”
“She and her mom went to pick up Liam at his dad’s.”
“Oh,” I exhale.
“Do you want to come over? My dad finally finished putting up the tire swing.”
I run my hands down the front of my purple dress. “Um… I guess. I have to do my homework first.”
“Okay. See ya,” he responds, adjusting his glasses on his nose before running off toward his house.
I watch Cal run down the street. But as I turn to my house, I realize I can’t play on the tire swing with him. Richelle isn’t home, which means I don’t have play clothes to change into. And it’s very important to my mom that I stay clean, so that we can look nice for Daddy. I try to decide what to do while I finish my homework. Maybe we can play something inside instead.
“Momma, is it okay if I go over to Cal’s house to play with him and Jules?” I ask. Cal’s sister, Jules, is in kindergarten. She’s too little to play with us. But it will make my mom feel better if she thinks Jules is playing too.
“Did Mrs. Logan invite you over, honey?” she asks from the kitchen. I hear the oven door plunk shut.
“Cal did,” I tell her.
“Let me call first to make sure it’s okay with his mom.”
I wait quietly while she calls Cal’s mom. When she gets off, she tells me, “Okay. She says you are welcome over. Be sure to use your manners, and please be home by five thirty so you can help set the table for your daddy’s dinner.”
“All right, Momma,” I call before pushing the screen door open.
Cal is waiting for me in his driveway. He has his hands in his pockets and is scuffing his sneaker into the pavement.
“Hi, Nicole,” he says. “I know you can’t get your dress dirty, so if you want, I put some clothes in the bathroom so we can play on the tire swing. My mom says it will leave black marks on clothes, and I didn’t think you’d like that.”
I can feel my face get hot. “
Your
clothes?” I’m thinking that maybe I should just go home. I can’t wear a
boy
’s clothes.
Cal shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It doesn’t really matter who they belong to. When they’re on you, they’re yours.”
I think about what he said for a second and then smile. He looks up from the ground and smiles too, just a little.
“Thanks, Cal,” I tell him. “That’s really nice. I’ll be right back.” I walk toward his house to change.
Cal is about the same size as me and Richelle, so the shorts and T-shirt fit. The shoes are a little big, but that’s okay. I decide it doesn’t really matter that they’re boys’ clothes, even if it has a basketball on the shirt.
I
still look like a girl.
When I come back outside, Cal doesn’t say anything about how I look. We just walk toward his backyard, cut across the wildflower grass and into the woods.
“Wow,” I say when we get to the biggest tire I’ve ever seen. “I think six of us can fit on that thing.” It’s a giant black tire hung from a big, thick branch high above by chains, keeping it flat like a doughnut.
“I think that’s kinda the idea,” Cal says. “Get on. I’ll push.”
I have a hard time getting up on the tire because it’s so big. I think it must have come from a dump truck.
“Here, let me help you.” Cal stands next to me and laces his fingers together. “Put a foot on my hands and I’ll give you a boost.”
I’m a little nervous, but I do it anyway. He lifts me up easily. I didn’t realize he was so strong. He doesn’t look very big. I grab the chains and crawl onto the gigantic tire to sit, dangling my feet through the hole in the center.
“Are you ready?” Cal asks. I hold on tighter and nod. “Okay, I’m going to spin you. Tell me if you get too dizzy.”
Cal walks the tire around and around, and I watch the chains twist above my head. When it’s too hard to push anymore, he says, “Ready. Set. Go!” And he steps back.
The swing starts to unwind slowly. But the next thing I know, it’s whipping around really fast. Everything blurs by me and the wind blows my hair. I start laughing, and I don’t stop until the swing does. My head’s fuzzy. The world still feels like it’s spinning really fast.
When I can finally see right again, Cal is smiling up at me like something’s funny. I’m afraid my hair is stuck up or something.
“What?” I ask, suddenly embarrassed.
“You should laugh more. I like it.”
I laugh again. And Cal laughs too.
“Who do you keep looking for?” Eric asks, distracting me from constantly checking the face of every girl in the room.
“No one,” I answer, giving up with a heavy breath. If she’s going to show, she will. There’s nothing I can do about it. I should know that by now.
“Let’s get a shot.” Eric leads us to one of the bedrooms down the hall. It has an old-fashioned barber’s chair set up in the center of it.
A girl gets in the chair. Although she adjusts her short skirt, I can still see her red underwear when she lays back. Most of the guys in the room tilt their heads for a better view. Guess I’m not the only one who noticed.
A guy with a backward baseball hat tips a bottle over her open mouth and then another wearing a cowboy hat helps him spin the chair while everyone cheers her on.
“I’m not going in the chair,” I tell Eric. He chuckles and holds two fingers in the air to one of his frat brothers doling out shots. The guy steps up onto a wooden chair and says, “Open up.”
I lean my head back and let him pour the contents of the bottle in my mouth, gulping way too many times by the time he’s done.
“Shit.” I shudder and step away so Eric can take his turn.
I hold my hand up with a shake of my head when Eric offers me a beer from their cooler. “I’m done.” He gives it to me anyway, but I don’t open it. I’m sure I’ll be feeling whatever I just did an upside down shot of soon enough. Besides, hangovers are not my friend. “Really. I need to drive. Are you staying here tonight or coming back to the apartment with me?”
He takes the beer from me and double fists it. “Depends on how the night goes,” he says, eyeing a blonde walking by.
I don’t know when I lose him. But somewhere on the second floor, when I catch myself looking around for Nyelle again, I realize Eric’s gone. Which probably means he’s going to be crashing here tonight.
I stay upstairs for a while, watching people annihilate themselves as they go from room to room taking shots. Each room offers a different flavor and some asinine way of drinking it—whether through a beer funnel, hanging upside down on a bar suspended from the ceiling, or by dunking their head into a pool filled with vodka-infused Jell-O. It’s entertaining, at least until I sober up.
“Hi.”
I slowly turn around.
“Want to get a drink?”
I grin at the cute girl with long black hair and big brown eyes smiling up at me.
“Uh, sure.” I can handle one more drink… for her. I’d be stupid to say no.
I lead the way to the basement, where the official bar is set up. She grabs my hand so we don’t get separated, and I walk closer to her to make sure we’re not pulled apart.
“What would you like?” I bend down and ask in her ear. She smells sweet, like strawberries.
“They have this blue drink that’s good.”
I order for her and take a beer for myself.
“I’m Cal,” I holler over the deafening music.
“Jade.” She smiles, exposing deep dimples that make her ten times cuter. “Are you with the house?”
“My roommate is.”
A laugh cuts through the crowd, and I instinctively turn my head. I search the underlit room but don’t see her.
“You okay?” Jade asks, appearing concerned.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I thought I heard someone I know.” I need to quit being an idiot and stop looking for Nyelle. She didn’t want to be here with me or else she would’ve shown. But there’s a girl who
is
interested right in front of me.
“An ex?” She scrunches her nose.
I shake my head. “No. Not an ex.” Although bumping into one of them is a probability that I’d rather not think about.
I try to have a conversation with Jade. It’s not working. This isn’t the place to get to know someone. And the drunker everyone else gets, the more sober I feel. I’d rather end this with her still remembering me.
“I have to give my roommate a ride home,” I lie as she starts wiggling her hips next to me, an indication that she wants to dance. And I don’t dance.
“Let me have your phone,” she requests, holding out her small, manicured hand. “I’ll give you my number and we can go out sometime.” I hand it to her. She taps in her number, then calls herself. “Now I have yours too.”
I lean down to give her a hug, and she brushes her lips against my cheek. “Good night, Cal,” she purrs in my ear. I’m suddenly second-guessing my departure, but then she’s off, hollering to some girls on the dance floor.
At least tonight wasn’t a total waste.
* * *
There’s a sledgehammer slamming against my head. I press my face into the pillow, begging it to stop. Then I realize the banging isn’t inside my head. Someone’s knocking on the door. I squint my eyes open, trying to focus in the dark room. I have no desire to get up and answer the door. I roll over with a groan, hoping whoever it is will go away. But the knocker is persistent.
I wait for Eric to answer it.
The pounding echoes through the apartment again.
Shit. Eric’s not home.
Grumbling, I throw back the covers and push myself off the bed. Half asleep, I shuffle to the door that might as well be a mile away.
“Coming!” I yell as another booming knock shakes the door. When I finally open it, I’m immediately blinded by the harsh light in the hallway. I squint and find electric-blue eyes peering up at me. I run a hand through my hair and blink again, not convinced she’s real. “Nyelle?”
“Hi, Cal,” she says, humming with energy.
“Um… what are you doing here?” I open the door wider so she can come in, but she stays in the hall.
“I came to get you.”
I shake my head, trying understand what’s happening. “How’d you know where I live? And why are you holding a sleeping bag?”
“I asked around the dorm. Figured one of the girls dated you at some point. A girl whose friend dated one of your roommate’s fraternity brothers told me where you live.”
I’m so confused.
“Do you have a sleeping bag?” she asks when I stare at her too long.
“Uh, yeah,” I answer tentatively, trying to remember if that’s the truth. “Why?”
“Get it and meet me at your truck,” she instructs and then walks past me, grabs my keys from the nail in the wall, and disappears down the hall.
“Now?” is my automatic response. I have no idea what time it is, but I know I should still be sleeping.
“Yeah,” she calls back over her shoulder before exiting the building.
I rub my eyes, trying to force myself awake.
Then I hear my truck starting in the parking lot.
“She’s serious,” I say with a heavy breath. Where the hell is she taking me in the middle of the night… with a sleeping bag? As inviting as it sounds to crawl into a sleeping bag with Nyelle, I’m pretty sure that’s not what
she
has in mind. And, apparently, I don’t have a choice, so I drag myself back to the bedroom to get my things.
I glance at the clock and blink hard when I read
4:12
. No wonder I can barely focus.
I eventually walk outside, dressed and carrying a sleeping bag I had stashed on the top shelf of my closet. I grumble under my breath at the dark sky. I should
not
be awake.
“You’re driving?” I climb in the passenger side. Something I haven’t done since my older brother, Devin, owned the truck. But I’m too tired to care—and probably to drive safely—so I shut the door and slump against the seat, dropping the sleeping bag on the floor.
Nyelle shifts the truck into reverse and backs up with a small jolt when she releases the clutch too quickly. After fighting for first gear, and a rough transition, we pull onto the road. I clench my teeth as she grinds through the gears, until she eventually gets a feel for the clutch.
“Here.” Nyelle hands me a thermal cup that was sitting in the holder. “I don’t know if it’s any good. I’ve never brewed coffee before.”
I slide it open, and the bitter potency of the coffee makes my nose hairs curl. “Whoa. I haven’t even tasted it yet and I can tell it’s strong.”
“It’ll wake you up,” she says with a playful grin.
I brace myself and take a swig—my jaw automatically tightens. “Damn. I think I’ll be awake for three days now.” Nyelle laughs. “So… where are we going?”
“To watch the Leonids,” she responds.
“The what?”
“A meteor shower. As long as the sky stays clear, we should be able to see them around five o’clock. And then I figured we could watch the sun rise.”
“Oh,” is all that I can manage to say. This is crazy. I look over at Nyelle, and she smiles back, her eyes lit up with excitement. Yup, this is definitely crazy. But then again, so is she. In a good way. And I like that about her at any other
reasonable
hour of the day.
We drive through the deserted streets in silence. I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes.
* * *
I’m jerked awake when the truck bounces violently. We’ve turned onto an abandoned road that’s overgrown and rutted with deep tire tracks. “Where are we?”
I grab the bar above the door when we continue to rock along the rough terrain.
“Found this place when I went for a walk the other day,” Nyelle explains, concentrating on the dark road lined with dense woods. “I kind of got lost, and well… you’ll see. It’s pretty cool.”
“You walked out
here
by yourself?”
“Are you afraid, Cal?” I can see her mocking smile in the glow of the panel.
“You realize you’re just begging to meet an ax murderer out here, right?”
Nyelle laughs.
The road opens up to a clearing. She parks in front of a lodge with
Camp Sunshine
carved into a sign above the door. With the headlights shining on it, I can see that it’s old and in serious need of repair. The boards on the porch are broken, and the screen door is hanging from its hinges.
“Tell me again why we had to come way out here to watch the meteor shower?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you,” Nyelle says with a smirk. She pulls her sleeping bag out from behind the seat, then shuts the door. Between the crack coffee, the
Friday the 13th
backdrop, and the frigid temperatures, I’m wide-awake. I pull my gloves from my pockets and put them on, then pick up my sleeping bag to follow after Nyelle toward a dock that jets out into the lake like an exclamation point. Considering the cabins are a strong wind away from falling over, I don’t think walking on the dock is the best idea.
“You’re not going out there, are you?” I holler to her, jogging to catch up.
“That’s where we’re going to watch the meteors,” she informs me, her breath a billowing cloud against the cold air.
Standing on the hardened ground at the end of the dock, I look down the long row of weathered planks. It’s too dark to really see how worn the boards are, but they
seem
to be intact.
Nyelle walks out on the dock without hesitation. I’m expecting her to fall through at any moment. The wood creaks, and the dock rocks gently in the water, but nothing breaks.
“Here goes nothing,” I murmur, following her.
I can feel the boards bow slightly beneath my weight, but they hold me.
Nyelle is studying the sky when I reach her. “Which way is north?”
I take out my phone and open the flashlight app with a compass on it. I point toward the right. “That way.”
She orients herself and unrolls her sleeping bag.
I scan the reflective surface of the lake, inhaling the frigid air. What am I doing out here? Then I look at Nyelle with her legs buried in her sleeping bag. I watch as she removes a thermos from one of her Mary Poppins pockets and a bag of marshmallows from the other. I smile. Yeah, I know exactly why I’m here.
“Do you have a heater in there too?”
She rolls her eyes. “Stop being ridiculous. Come sit.”
I release the buckle on my sleeping bag and roll it out next to her. She opens the thermos, releasing a trail of steam.
“Let me guess. Hot chocolate?”
“It’s not just
any
hot chocolate. It’s my favorite.” She pours some in the lid. “Here, try it.”
I sit on top of my navy blue sleeping bag and take it from her. It smells like chocolate but… sweeter.
“Don’t trust me?”
“I do,” I respond defensively. I take a small sip. It’s pretty damn good. “What is it?”
“It’s Milky Way hot chocolate. I put caramel and mocha in it.”
“That’s actually my favorite ice cream.”
“Weewy?” Her words are muffled by the marshmallow plugging her mouth. I laugh at her.
She sucks in the marshmallow and giggles uncontrollably. I lose my laughter at the sound of hers. I’ve heard Nyelle laugh before, but this light, girly sound is different. It’s one I remember so distinctly.
This
laugh is one of my favorite childhood memories.
“What?” she asks. “Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say, snapping out of it. “Still waking up.”
“We shouldn’t have to wait too much longer,” Nyelle explains, lying back on the dock, pulling her sleeping bag up to her chin.
“What are we looking for exactly?”
“Shooting stars, but lots of them, and brighter.”
After a few minutes of sitting and waiting, I’m fricken freezing. So I slip into my sleeping bag and lie next to Nyelle, resting my head on my gloved hands.
We lay there in silence. The sky is speckled with countless stars, despite the large moon low in the sky.
“I was hoping to see you tonight,” I say without looking at her.
“You did see me tonight,” she says with a small laugh.
“I meant at the party.”
She’s quiet. I look over and find her eyes are still, like they’re steadied on a single star.
“I thought about it. But most people annoy me, and after I drink, I tend to let them know it.”
I laugh. “So no parties for you?”
“I’ll go, but one a month is my quota.”
“Have you met your quota this month?” I ask, still watching her. Her profile is soft lines, accentuated by the fullness of her lips. I’ve never really noticed her lips before—always too caught up in her eyes.
“Nope. Not yet.” She darts her eyes toward me, then back up at the sky.