He stopped.
“Can we sit down?”
“Where?”
“Over on that bench.”
Matt still looked hurt.
“You’re right,” Christy began. “I don’t know what you’re feeling. I know what I felt for you from third grade all the way through junior high. I know what a crush feels like. Crushes are real. I know they are. And the truth is, I don’t know but that I still have a crush on you, Matthew Kingsley.”
He looked over at her with his head down but with his face turned toward hers, looking expectant. “Really?”
“I think so,” Christy said.
Matt sat up straight and looked at her. “What do we do about that?”
A nice, logical answer came to her mind. The right way to approach any such relationship would be to pray about it, develop a friendship, make the proper commitments at the proper times, and know that each choice was a follow-up to the first decision that strengthened it.
She had no idea where this thinking came from. She certainly hadn’t seen things that clearly when she was so crazy about Todd.
“I don’t know what we can do about our feelings,” Christy told Matt. “Admitting them to each other is probably a good place to start.”
“I suppose,” Matt said.
“Maybe for now, it’s just good that we both admit what we feel,” Christy said. “It’s more than we were able to do in elementary school.”
Matt was about to say something when David came running up with the girls and started to ramble on about the wave pool and how they had to go there next.
Christy and Matt followed the others, walking next to each other. She was sorry that their serious conversation had been interrupted. What would have happened if they had kept talking, exploring their feelings? Would sparks have flown from Matt’s words and ignited all her emotions?
The group went to the wave pool, and Matt and Christy, as a couple, were swallowed up in the brother-and-sister interactions among all of them.
Once Christy could relax again, she had a great time bobbing on her inner tube. Then the ride’s alarm sounded, and the mighty, man-made wave rose and pushed them to the cement shore. It was nothing like the real experience of riding waves in California, but it was still fun.
As usual, Christy picked apart all her thoughts and feelings. She was glad that she and Matt had been able to talk so openly, but she still didn’t know what to do about their confessions.
Matt splashed her to get her attention as she was drifting in her thoughts. “We need to head back to the picnic grounds. We told them we would be back by 7:00 for the barbecue. If we hurry, we might get there by about 7:15. I don’t want our parents to worry.”
David moaned about having to leave, but he perked up at the mention of food.
Matt’s estimate was close. They joined their parents at 7:10. The picnic area was even more crowded than it had been that morning. Curls of smoke from lit charcoal briquettes mixed with the burnt smell of prematurely lit sparklers. Christy wondered if the woman she had seen earlier in the day still had those sparklers in her hair or if someone had lit them for her. Christy had to wonder if any of her emotional sparklers had been lit, and, even more important, did she want to leave them so accessible?
The food was ready when they arrived. Two hot dogs, a mound of potato salad, three pickles, and a slice of watermelon later, Christy joined her dad and David in a round of Frisbee. Matt joined them and spun a couple of impressive throws in her direction, none of which she caught.
“You never were much for sports, were you?” Matt teased when they disbanded the game because it was growing dark.
“Nope. My best friend, Katie, says I’m ‘athletically impaired,’ which is a nice way of saying I’m a klutz.”
“You’re not a klutz,” Matt said.
“I don’t seem to ever recall hearing you say the words, ‘Red Rover, Red Rover, send Christy right over.’ ”
“Maybe not,” Matt said. “But if I remember correctly, you were pretty good on the ice at our eighth-grade winter party.”
“That’s right,” Christy said, remembering how good it felt to skate around the rink without falling. She liked being with someone who had known her for so many years he could remind her of past victories.
“Come with me to get some more blankets,” Matt said. “They’re in the van.”
Christy knew this would be their chance to finish their heart-to-heart conversation. In the last few hours, Christy’s mind had spun wildly with the possible directions things could go with Matt. She imagined everything from saying good-bye to him tonight and never seeing him for the rest of her life, all the way to standing with him under an anniversary banner in the same church fellowship hall fifty years from now. Only the church would definitely be air-conditioned by then.
None of her scenarios seemed sure or clear. The future was as vast and unsearchable as the summer sky that spread over them like a deep periwinkle picnic blanket. Perhaps what she felt now was part of the mystery that always seemed to come along with the “romance” and “adventure” Katie had talked about.
18
att handed her a blanket, and he held the other. They lingered a moment behind the van while he tried to lock the door.
“There,” he said when he was satisfied the key had worked.
Suddenly a burst of bright color soared across the sky. Christy hugged the blanket, her chin pointed to the heavens as the two of them watched the beginning of the fireworks display. Matt stood beside her.
“Where are they coming from?” Christy asked.
“The parking lot of the municipal pool.”
The second brilliant stream of glittering color burst in the sky, and Christy gave an appropriate, “Ooh! Aah!”
“Ooh! Aah!” Matt repeated teasingly when the next spray of vibrant lights dotted the sky.
“Sing to the one who rides across the ancient heavens,” Christy said, casually resting her head against Matt’s shoulder. “God is awesome in his sanctuary.”
Another spray of fireworks splashed across the sky, and Matt asked, “Did you just make that up?”
“No, it’s in the Bible. Psalm Sixty-Eight. A friend of mine is writing some music to go with the words.”
Matt let his chin brush the top of her head. “Do you think we can go back, Christy?”
“Back to the picnic area?”
“No, you goof,” he said, stepping away from her and leaning against the back of the van so he could face her. “Do you think we can go back to being whatever we were before I told you I had a crush on you?”
“No,” Christy said, shaking her head. “I don’t think we can.”
Matt looked worried.
“I think we just go on from here. We don’t have to change anything. Look at it this way: I had a crush on you for seven years. Did that change anything?”
Matt laughed. “I guess not. But I didn’t have my driver’s license then.”
Christy smiled. “What does that have to do with it?”
“I guess it’s symbolic. I can pretty much do what I want now, you know?”
Christy did know what he meant. It was that wonderful and terrible realization that they were on the brink of being adults and being responsible for making their own catastrophes from there on out.
“Yeah, I know,” Christy said. She turned her head to see the next blast of fireworks. In the dim light, she noticed that Grandpa’s canoe was still strapped to the roof of Uncle Bob’s rental car. Grandpa had insisted the canoe accompany them for the day because he was sure the kids would want to go canoeing. But when they all left for the water park, obviously none of the adults could be persuaded to go out in the old thing. Christy’s dad had said years ago that that canoe should be hanging in a museum because it was older than Grandpa, but Grandpa insisted it was still seaworthy. That claim hadn’t been tried today.
As they watched the fireworks, Christy wondered if her old crush on Matt was still “seaworthy.” It might be, b
ut she wasn’t going to unstrap it from where she had hung it on a wall of her heart. That “canoe” of old feelings would also go untried this day.
“I had a wonderful time being around you this weekend,” Christy said, turning to face Matt. “I’m content to let everything be what it was and what it is and not try to push it any further. Is that okay with you?”
Matt paused. “You know what I think?” He reached over with a closed fist and gave Christy a playful punch across the jaw. “You’re a good friend, but I think, without knowing it, I was practicing on you this weekend.”
“Practicing on me?” Christy didn’t know if she should feel insulted.
“I told you about my limited dating experience.” Matt paused, as if trying hard not to be embarrassed. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I felt safe with you. I guess I thought I could practice my dating skills on you because you had a boyfriend. Then, when you said you and Todd had broken up, I started to wonder, ‘What if?’ ”
Christy nodded. “I call it ‘The Land of If Only.’ It’s an okay place to visit but a dangerous place to live.”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “That’s what it was. A little journey to the Land of If Only. With us living so far apart, it’s not very realistic to think about a relationship, is it?”
Christy shook her head. She reached over, took Matt’s rough hand in hers, and gave it a squeeze. “I’m honored I was your practice date. I’d give you an A in all areas.”
Matt squeezed her hand back. “No ‘needs to improve’ on my report card?”
“Well, maybe one,” Christy said, letting go of his hand. “You could occasionally open the door for a girl. Or at least go around and stand by her side of the car after you get out so she doesn’t feel abandoned.”
“Okay,” Matt said seriously, as if he were taking notes. “Anything else?”
Christy thought a moment. “No, just keep being your wonderful self, Matthew Kingsley. Girls will continue to adore you for who you are. I know I always have.”
Matt stood, looking at her, smiling slightly. “I wish they all could be California girls.”
Christy laughed. “I think I’m still a Midwest farmer’s daughter. You come to Rancho Corona, and I’ll introduce you to some real California girls.”
“Who knows,” Matt said, his grin broadening, “I just might do that.”
The two of them turned their faces toward the ancient heavens, observing one more blast of dazzling brilliance.
“Come on,” Matt said, motioning with his head toward the picnic area. “Let’s go back.”
“No,” Christy said with a smile, “let’s go on.”
Matt and Christy walked side by side across the grass. A melancholy contentment hung over Christy. Was it possible to do the right thing, make the right decision, and say the right words yet still feel sad about it afterward?
Matt tagged her on the shoulder and said, “Eeny meeny boo boo” and took off running.
Christy laughed and started to run after him, even though she knew this was the last time she would ever chase Matthew Kingsley.
1
ierra Jensen stuffed the last of a granola bar in her mouth and surveyed the airport waiting area that had become way too familiar during the past hour. She brushed back her long, wild blond hair and asked her friend Jana, “When do you think the guys will be back?”
“I don’t know,” Jana said, her brown eyes looking past Sierra’s shoulder for the hundredth time. “Maybe the airline they went to check on doesn’t have any openings on its flights to Montana.”
“Then what do we do?” Sierra asked.
“Don’t ask me,” Jana said. “I’ve never been the victim of an airline strike before.”
Sierra tapped her foot in time to the song that had been stuck in her head for several hours. “Why did they have to go on strike on a holiday weekend? There should be laws against that.”
This was the first time fifteen-year-old Sierra had traveled anywhere without her parents or one of her four brothers or her sister. The plan had been a simple one. Jana’s parents were driving to their family cabin on a lake near Glacier National Park to spend some time alone. A week later Jana, her older brother, Gregg, his friend Tim, and Sierra would fly up for the Fourth of July weekend.
None of them expected the connecting flight in Seattle to be rerouted to the central terminal in Minneapolis. Now the group was on its own, trying to find a flight to Montana.
“Isn’t there a big mall in Minneapolis?” Sierra asked. “If we can’t catch a flight, we could hang out at the mall.”
Jana looked wary. Her short brown hair was tucked behind her ears and off her face, which meant her thoughts were easily read in her open expression. Jana was physically larger than Sierra and six months older. They had been friends for several years in their small northern California town of Pineville. Sierra and Jana were both top students in their class, and they both loved sports—although Jana often complained that Sierra had an unfair athletic advantage because she was thinner and faster. The friendly competition they shared was one of the foundation stones of their friendship.
Jana was the cautious one of the two, and she didn’t seem to think the mall was such a great idea. “All I know is that we’re supposed to wait here for Gregg and Tim, and when they come back, we’re supposed to call my parents to tell them what we found out.”
“Do you think it would be okay if I went to that café over there to buy something to drink?” Sierra asked. She ran her tongue over her back teeth, releasing bits of oats left over from the granola bar.
“I don’t know if you should leave,” Jana said.
“I’ll only be gone for a few minutes, and you can run over and get me if the guys come back.”
Jana looked around, as if calculating all the factors, before nodding to Sierra.
“Do you want anything?” Sierra offered.
“Lemonade, if they have it. No sugar.”
“What if the lemonade already has sugar in it?”
“That’s okay. Just don’t add any.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Sierra grabbed her backpack and took off mumbling to herself, “Like I would go around slipping sugar into her lemonade!” Sierra knew it wasn’t fair to be critical of Jana’s concern over calories just because Sierra had never had to concentrate on her weight.
Walking around relaxed Sierra. She decided to make a quick detour into the bookstore next to the café. An interesting magazine might help her friend relax a little too. Who knew how long they might be stuck here.
The bookstore was small, and the space was so tight Sierra took off her backpack and balanced it at her feet. A tall, good-looking guy walked in and stood next to Sierra at the magazine rack. He had sun-bleached blond hair and was wearing a white T-shirt with a surfing logo on the back. While Sierra flipped through one of the magazines, she decided to conduct an experiment with this unsuspecting guy. She had tried this before but never with satisfying results; maybe today would be different.
The goal was to see if the guy would notice her without her trying to draw attention to herself. She felt ready to move beyond her image of a freckle-faced tomboy and to be noticed by guys the way her gorgeous older sister, Tawni, was. The tricky part was figuring out if guys thought she looked interesting enough to pay attention to her.
Sierra flipped through the magazine and tossed a subtle, sideways glance toward the guy. About two minutes into the experiment, the results were zilch.
Then Sierra heard a girl greet the guy. “Hello” was all she said.
Sierra kept her head facing the magazine while doing her best to see what was going on out of the corner of her eye. The guy didn’t respond to the teenage girl’s hello.
Then Sierra heard the girl say, “Hi,” in a more decisive tone. Sierra couldn’t see the girl’s face, but she could see that the guy had turned to look at her. When he did, the girl broke into a string of stammering words. It appeared to be a case of mistaken id
entity.
Sierra had to look. She turned nonchalantly toward the guy just as the girl hurried away. The tall girl had long, nutmeg brown hair, and a tagalong boy beside her was loudly giving her a hard time. The boy reminded Sierra of her two younger brothers and how they often acted around her.
She was glad that even though she was stuck at the airport, she was with her friend and not her younger brothers.
Just then the guy next to Sierra tried to move past her and said, “Excuse me.”
Sierra stepped aside and kicked her backpack out of his way. So does that mean he just noticed me? At least he was polite. I’d score this experiment as a three out of ten. Maybe a four. No, a two and a half. Yeah, a two and a half. I still have a long way to go before I catch a guy’s attention—and not because I’m in his way.
Sierra gave up on the magazine. Jana would have to come pick out what she wanted. As Sierra reached for her backpack, her bracelet caught on a thread in her skirt, and she had to stand there a minute trying to untangle it. Her mom had helped her make the skirt, but her sister thought it was dreadful, which was probably one of the reasons Sierra liked it so much. Made from a collection of her dad’s old ties, the skirt was distinctive. Each of the wide ties was opened up and sewn together at the sides so that all the pointed ends came to just above her knee. Sierra liked being unique. But more than once her bracelet had caught on the worn-through part of a blue tie on the right side.
With her bracelet released, Sierra headed for the café. She had just stepped outside the bookstore when she heard her name called from across the open area. Looking up, she saw Gregg waving from the entrance of the waiting area where she had left Jana.
Gregg had dark hair like Jana’s. His eyes and eyebrows were darker than hers were and more striking so the first thing a person noticed about him were his warm eyes. Even if his mouth was serious, his eyes made him look as if he were about to start laughing.
He was four years older than Jana, just like Sierra’s brother, Wesley, was four years older than she was. It was another one of the similarities Sierra and Jana shared. Sierra thought Gregg was good-looking. She liked his quick wit and casual approach to life.