Nobody knew what I meant, except for Lance. He burned a glare of hatred in my direction, and I looked the other way as another reporter asked another question. Coach knew something was up, and he hurried us through the rest of the press conference. I trailed behind Lance as he stormed out, jumped in his Mustang, and tore out of the parking lot.
“What was that?” Coach asked, his face red. “You guys are on the same team!”
“If you say so.” I drove home, simmering that Lance had told everyone that I needed to be angry to win meets. How would that translate in the papers? If Mom and Dad read the articles, they’d stage an intervention, sit me down at the kitchen table, and ask me to tell them why I was so angry.
I pulled into my driveway and saw that there were still several people at the Isaacson’s. In fact, the truck was only half full. I walked next door and started helping. I passed Dad several times, and while he didn’t say anything, the softness in his eyes spoke volumes.
Using my muscles felt good, like maybe I could work through the stupid things I’d said to Lance before I did something else wrong.
“Thank you, Mitch,” Mrs. Isaacson said, suddenly glomming onto me in the kitchen and squeezing hard. I was sure I didn’t smell good, but I didn’t move. “You’ve been such a great friend.”
She released me, wiped her crying eyes, and directed someone to another box in Scott’s room. I thought Scott sure had a lot of stuff, but didn’t say anything, because with the departure of Mrs. Isaacson, I’d finally seen Holly.
She stood on the deck, wearing a tank top and a pair of cut-off shorts, and stared into the distance. Her hair blew loosely in the wind, and as if she could feel the weight of my stare, she turned toward me.
She lifted one arm in a hesitant wave, and somehow my feet moved my body out onto the deck. “How are you holding up?”
She pressed her lips together and turned away from me. For some reason, it annoyed me that she wouldn’t talk to me. Hadn’t I been a good friend? There for her even when she couldn’t give me the time of day? Taken her to breakfast, gotten her a Homecoming date, gone after her when she was distraught and wandering the streets?
I should have said, “Well, there’s still boxes,” and left. Instead I muttered, “I don’t have time for this,” and turned to go.
“You never do anymore,” she said as I touched the doorknob. Her words hit me like a slap in the face. She’d never hit me, not even playfully, but I’d seen her flirt and flounce with other guys.
I spun around. “I’m not going to make you talk to me. You want to ignore me, ignore me. At least own it.”
She glared at me, a line of tears beginning to fall.
“You have something to say?” I challenged.
She wiped at her tears angrily. “No.”
“Don’t do that,” I said. “I’m the one bringing you cookies, and making you scrambled eggs—”
“Drew made those eggs—and those cookies.”
I ignored her and kept going. “—and making sure you’re okay, and not alone on Homecoming, and, and…” I couldn’t continue, because everything about me even being here was for her. I gestured between us. “I’m here, Holly. I’ve always been right here.”
She shook her head and turned around. Frustrated, I lunged at her and grabbed her shoulders, spinning her to face me again. “Why did you kiss me? Huh? Why did you have to do that? What does that mean?”
She shook her head again. “You know what it means.”
I released her and stepped back as a wave of anger engulfed me. “Honestly, Holly, I don’t. You’ve screwed everything up, and I’m so mad at you for that. Now I have this thing between me and Jade—who, by the way, is the most amazing girl I’ve ever been with—and it’s your fault. Your fault.”
She didn’t look away from me though she raised her chin defiantly and flinched when I said Jade was amazing. The silence stretched between us for a full minute. Just when I turned to leave, a snort of disgust bursting from me, she held out her phone.
“I don’t want that,” I said. “You have something to say to me? Say it.”
Her hand dropped to her side, still gripping the phone. I wrenched open the door and left.
24
Jade’s parents showed their uncoolness on Saturday night. I asked her to go out, even though I knew she was grounded. I thought maybe she could talk her mom into it, and I knew I couldn’t stand sitting around my house with Omar and Drew and my parents. I hadn’t told anyone about the disastrous press conference, and they hadn’t asked. They didn’t even ask me how the meet had gone. Every second that passed boiled the anger into something dangerous and tangible.
Jade’s response to my plea was, “If you come here. My mom says we can watch a movie.”
“Great,” I said, but I thought it was anything but. I went, and the Montgomery’s had ordered pizza and gone to the Redbox for a zombie flick I actually wanted to watch.
After we ate, Jade took my hand. “I want to show Mitch some of my drawings.”
Her dad stood up like he was going to block us from going downstairs. Jade stiffened, her eyes shooting him a message I didn’t understand. I certainly caught the gist of her raised chin though. They’d definitely argued this point, and she’d won. Her stubbornness to get her way was demonstrated in her stance.
“Okay,” he relented, taking his plate into the kitchen and putting it in the sink. “I trust you.”
Jade towed me downstairs and through a living room with a large sectional couch facing an eighty-inch TV. I whistled. “Are we watching zombies on that?”
She laughed. “Yeah. But with my mom and my sisters.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, they’re so uptight.”
Maybe they were, and maybe they weren’t. We hadn’t been super-smart by making out under the bright security lights. I squeezed her hand to let her know that I didn’t mind that her parents were being watchdogs. “It’s okay. Show me your stuff.”
We went down a hall with a door on the right, and turned. Past a bathroom door, Jade’s room opened up into a sprawling space. She had a queen bed, and I hastily focused on the wall-to-wall bookshelves opposite it. About half of them were full. The wall behind her bed held her art. Each was a person, all meticulously sketched in black and white. I moved toward them reverently while Jade hovered near the door.
I traced my fingers along the edges of the paper. It felt rough and thick, almost like canvas. It lent texture to the drawing, which showed her father. His skin was roughed in so black, his eyes left white against the darkness.
Next to him, Jade had pinned her mother. Her sisters. I recognized them, and found Jade’s style of using the paper to contrast the pencil striking. Almost haunting. There were men, women, children, babies.
“Who are all these people?” I whispered. Jade didn’t hear me, and I turned toward her. She stood by the door, nervously wringing her hands. “Who are they all?”
“Do you like them?”
“They’re awesome,” I said. “Beautiful.” I gazed at her across the room, appreciating how talented she was. Funny, smart, stubborn, compassionate. I wanted to kiss the worry lines from around her mouth. “You’re amazing,” I said, and I meant more than her artistic ability.
She looked so nervous. “I don’t show very many people my work.”
“Thank you.” I went and hugged her. “I think they’re fantastic.” It felt too intimate holding her in her bedroom. If her father came down… I hurried to her bookshelves. “What’s all this? You read all these books?”
“Some of them,” she said, staying near the door. That must have been part of the deal she’d made with her father.
“Shakespeare?” I raised my eyebrows. Romance novels. Poetry. I was learning so much about Jade. “I love Poe,” I said. “The Tell-Tale Heart is awesome.” I mentally kicked myself for using the word awesome so much. I definitely needed a different adjective. “Very haunting.”
“Really?” Jade finally took a step into her room. ??
?I think that one’s creepy.”
I pulled out the book of Poe’s short stories and flipped through the pages. It had a few of his poems at the end. “I and my Annabel Lee,” I read in a low voice.
“Stop.” Jade giggled. “That voice was weird.”
I grinned and put the book back. “You like poetry.” I wasn’t asking. She had an entire shelf of books like Poe’s.
She plucked a notebook from a higher shelf. “I write some… sometimes.” She quickly stuffed it back into place. “I don’t want you to read it.”
I wanted to read it, bad. “Okay.”
“Jade.” Her mom stood in the doorway, holding the blu-ray. “We’re starting the movie.”
She turned and almost sprinted to the door. “Okay, Mom. We’ll be right there.”
Mrs. Montgomery watched us a moment longer, then walked down the hall.
I took Jade’s hand as I joined her in the doorway. “Come on. It’s zombies!” I started toward the hall, but she resisted.
“Will you sneak back over after?” she whispered. “I’ll meet you in the backyard.”
I stared into her eyes, and something passed between us. For me, I felt like this relationship was advancing into more… Just more. More than liking what she looked like, and how she wore her hair, and how her hand felt in mine. But that I wanted to tell her everything about myself, and I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to spend all my time with her, and I didn’t care if it was just to watch her sketch, or complete her homework, or write a poem.
“Okay,” I whispered. She ducked her head, and we went to the living room to find Jade’s mom and sisters curled up on the couch together. I sat on the end, and Jade squeezed in right next to me, both of us in one section.
“Lift the footrest,” she said, and I fumbled for the latch. The footrest came up, and the couch leaned back, and I sighed. Spending time with Jade like this wouldn’t be so bad either. She snuggled into my side, despite the presence of her mother, and the movie started. I was really into it, but after about a half hour, I realized Jade had her face buried in my chest. I glanced down at her and patted her shoulder.
I felt someone watching me. Sure enough, Mrs. Montgomery was staring. Hannah, Jade’s youngest sister was hiding her eyes the same way Jade was. Felicia was leaning forward, completely immersed in the zombie feeding happening on-screen. I lifted my free hand in a half-wave for Jade’s mom and then dropped it quickly. What an idiotic move. She sort of smiled and returned her attention to the movie.
After I’d bid goodnight to Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery, driven home, and checked in with my parents, I laid in my bed. It was almost midnight, and I wanted nothing more than to sneak out my window and run to Jade’s.
The moment we’d shared in her hallway felt huge, like something I’d never experienced before. I wondered if this was what love felt like. When I wanted to be with Jade all the time, even if we weren’t doing anything. I wanted to see more of her art, and read the words she’d written in her notebooks.
As I lay there, I realized I hadn’t thought about kissing her once. I just wanted to be in the same room as her, hear her laugh, watch her smile. I wanted to be the one eliciting those reactions from her. Kissing her would be great too, and I wondered if sneaking over was the right thing.
Maybe I was sick of doing the right thing. I wished she’d hurry up and text so I could stop debating with myself.
My phone vibrated. It’s safe. From Jade.
I didn’t text her back. Before I could examine the facts, or create a compelling argument against going, I climbed through my window, dropped to the porch, and set my pace at a six-minute mile. At this moment, doing the wrong thing felt right.
Jade sat in the back corner of her yard, on a bench near the fountain. She watched me creep across her lawn, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“Hey,” I whispered, sliding onto the seat next to her. I took her hand in mine, suddenly not knowing what else to do. Did she implore all her boyfriends to sneak over in the middle of the night? What did she have in mind?
I’d never done anything like this. Normal-Mitch made his curfew by thirty minutes, and while he sat on his roof trying to work through things, he never went anywhere else.
“You’re not even out of breath.” She giggled and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.
“It’s only a mile,” I said.
“If I ran a mile, I’d be bent over gasping for breath.”
I didn’t say anything, because what was there to say? I hated myself for my inability to make small talk. Jade didn’t seem to mind, and I wondered if she felt this thing between us where we just wanted to be together.
I had the thought that I should tell Jade about Holly and that weird kiss in my kitchen. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but I knew I needed to. I couldn’t keep it a secret forever, and if this thing with Jade went anywhere, the longer I waited, the harder and more catastrophic it would be.
“Durango taught me how to sneak out of my basement.”
All thoughts of telling her about Holly vanished. I suddenly felt cold, the sheen of sweat that had accumulated during my run turning to ice.
“My parents acted like he was the scum of the earth,” she continued, almost like she was talking to herself. “We couldn’t do anything alone. So he devised these midnight meetings.” She shrugged. “It was fun.”
I wanted to ask what was fun. What did she do with Durango in her backyard? Did she want to do the same things with me?
My phone vibrated, and I glanced at it. Drew. Imploring me to come home. The texts came fast and furious, each one getting angrier and angrier. She even threatened to go tell mom and dad I wasn’t there.
I ignored her and shoved my phone in my back pocket. I noticed Jade was sitting on a book. “What’s that?” I asked her.
“Nothing,” she said, shoving it further under her.
“Oh, it’s something,” I teased. I made a play for the notebook, hoping it was a volume of her poetry. She batted my hands away, giggling. I wrapped my arms around her, pinning her to my chest. Her laughter subsided and she gazed at me. That same magnetic force that brought us together the last time I’d snuck over buzzed between us.
“Jade,” I whispered, holding onto the moment to see if I could read her emotions in her face. It was so dark, but I thought I saw the heat in her eyes. I definitely felt it when she touched her lips to mine.
This kiss, while charged, moved at a much slower pace. There was no frantic movement, no desperation. Only exploration.
I pulled away when my phone started buzzing and wouldn’t stop. Drew was calling. “Crap,” I muttered, still holding Jade. She breathed into my neck while I answered the phone.
“You have to come home,” Drew said in a frantic whisper. “Someone just came upstairs.”
“Stall them,” I said, disentangling myself from Jade and standing up quickly. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Mitch—” Drew’s voice cut off as I hung up. I looked at Jade. “I have to go. Drew said someone came upstairs.”
Jade nodded, gripping the notebook now. “Hurry.”
I kissed her again. “I-I—”
“Hurry,” she said. I ran.
My house was dark as I approached. My heart beat double-time, and not only from the mile-long sprint. I was already treading a thin line at home; this would push my parents over the edge into punishment territory. I leapt to Holly’s porch and shimmied up her rain gutter just as my bedroom light brightened the window.
I sat down on her roof and tried to steady my breathing.
“Mitch?” Dad stuck his head out the window.
I took an extra breath before I turned to look at him, hoping to give off the air of nonchalance and perhaps surprise. “Hey, Dad.”
“What are you doing over there?”
I looked back into the darkness, desperate to seem lonely and depressed. “Nothing. Thinking.” Technically, I wasn’t lying.<
br />
I heard him exhale. “Okay, well, don’t stay out there too long. We have church in the morning.”
“I know,” I said. “I won’t.”
He left, even turning my bedroom light off as we went. I couldn’t help feeling a strange satisfaction at having fooled him. I pulled my phone out and sent two texts.
To Jade: miss u
To Drew: thank u
Neither of them responded.
25
Over the course of the next few weeks, I got really good at ignoring what bothered me. Omar and Drew? Didn’t even see them on the porch when I pulled in after track. The almost-finished applications and trade school brochures on my desk? All but forgotten. The whole weird thing with Holly and me and that kiss? Didn’t think about it—except for once, right before the last track meet of the year.
I’d won that race too. Two steps ahead of Lance. Another press conference. More recruiter cards. Though we weren’t talking, Lance and I were the heroes of Bellvue. While it made his line of girls longer, the popularity only served to remind me that the Montgomery’s were suffocating the only relationship I wanted to cultivate.
Coach Braeburn had me and Lance on speed dial, and every time a recruiter called him, I knew about it. I enjoyed talking to him, and then the recruiters, and I thought college might be worth it just to get out of Bellvue. I knew Lance was all-in.
He believed I wanted to go to college and just didn’t know where. I hadn’t told anyone that I wasn’t sure about college in general. My parents would flip, Lance would look at me like I was crazy, and Jade would probably break up with me.
Many things about college appealed to me. Besides leaving my shoes wherever I wanted, I fantasized about living in a dorm near Jade. To prevent my imagination from driving me to the brink of frustration, I poured myself into keeping up at school and doing the dishes after dinner, and anything else I could do to keep on Mom’s good side. After all, I was sneaking over to Jade’s almost every night, and if I got caught, I wanted to have an arsenal of good things to remind my parents of.