That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction

by A. M. Lalonde

  “Call her,” Mom repeats in that steel tone I can’t go up against. If I do, it doesn’t end well.

  I can’t believe I’m not going to see Zan tonight. It’s going to suck if I can’t see her until the first day of school. It’s another week!

  Mom’s eyes bore into me. I might as well get this over with. I press 1 on my speed dial.

  It’s almost weird Zan answers on the first ring. She hasn’t done that all summer.

  “I can’t go,” I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath. What if she stops talking to me again?

  “What’d you do to piss the witch off this time?” My eyes pop open. She sounds like my old Zan. I hope Mom can’t hear her.

  “I’ll see you at school.” The mumbled words rush out.

  “Sure,” Zan’s warm chuckle, almost like a growl, echoes through my phone as she hangs up. I sound like an elephant as I stomp out of the kitchen.

  “Your phone,” Mom’s voice stops my stride.

  “It’s eight. I have an hour ‘til phones out,” my voice raises.

  “You don’t need it tonight,” she holds her hand out. “Go read to your brother.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  “Shae, I am tired of arguing with you,” her eyelids lower to half-mast. I quickly, really quickly, pull myself in check.

  It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it.

  I focus on my mantra and deposit my phone in her outstretched hand. My gaze focuses on her lips, they’ve paled, but they’re not blue, that ice blue they get when she’s about to lose it.

  “Go read to your brother,” she repeats.

  I spin on my heel and stride through the cold, dark living room, sidestepping the creepy stairs that lead up to my parents’ room. I slap the back of my brother’s head hard as I walk by.

  “Ow!” he cries. But, he doesn’t say more. He knows. We have an unspoken agreement to look after each other and he broke it.

  I slam my bedroom door and a framed photo of me and Mom topples backwards on the dresser. The photo is from our last trip to the zoo when I was five. It’s the only smiling photo of us that exists. The chill descends from the crown of my head, narrows my vision, freezes my lips, and squashes my heart until the pain flies out my arms. My fist smashes down on it, shattering glass across our smiling faces.

  My room is full of dark shadows as soft moonlight sifts through the tree that spreads above our deck. Its branches creak in the canyon breeze that pushes through my open window. A coyote howls in the distance. I want to howl right along with it. Let off some steam, run through the hills. Get away from Mom, get to wherever Zan is.

  Zan, Roman, and Aiden. The gust glides across my face. It’s weird not to include Callum in our group, but he hasn’t really hung around us in more than a year.

  My nails dig into my palms. I exhale. Try to let it all go. Frustration leads to annoyance; leads to anger. Mom’s words beat a steady rhythm in my head. Breathe in the flowers, blow out the candles.

  She’s right. I’ve destroyed my room half a dozen times this summer getting angry. I tug the chain of the broken dragonfly lamp that casts dim patches of green, yellow and red light across the shadows. It leans half-cocked against the broken mirror. I still use it. Just because a thing’s broken doesn’t mean it’s not useful. The light doesn’t ease the chill slipping over me. My hand slides over the dent in my iron framed headboard. I want to smash it again.

  Breathe in the flowers, blow out the candles.

  Everyone says anger makes them hot, but maybe they don’t get mad enough. For me it’s like ice, cutting me off from everyone I care about and making me do stupid things.

  Maybe I shouldn’t meet Zan for the party. I can’t lose it again in front of them. My shoulders fold forward. I still can’t believe I overturned the food table at Callum’s party. They must think I’m an idiot. If I’d known how I felt about Aiden, I wouldn’t have been blindsided. I could have controlled myself. But, I didn’t get it. And… well, he was ignoring me. The three of them huddled together all night whispering. You’d think they’d just come out and say, “We’re going to Europe this summer for camp.” My chest tightens. Whether they said anything or not, it still hurts.

  What if we’d sold the house and moved? I’d never have seen them again!

  Footsteps groan on the worn wooden floor outside my door. My body tenses, but the handle turns softly. It’s not Mom. Henry slips in. Even in the shadows I can see the lid of his right eye is pink and swollen, he has another sty coming. He gets them when he’s stressed. I glare at him anyway.

  “I already texted her,” he holds out his phone, eyes downcast like an apologetic puppy. I grab it and turn my back on him. I know it’s not his fault, but I’m still annoyed. Chill anger brims around my eyes. It’s been there all summer. It’s safer to be silent. “She said she’s waiting at the spot,” he quotes Zan’s text though I’m already reading it.

  The chill melts in a second. I cover my mouth to hide the squeal erupting from my lips. I’m going to see them! Henry grins up at me so I throw him a high five to let him know he’s forgiven. “But, don’t let it happen again,” I say.

  My old window slides open without a squeak of resistance. Henry and I snuck stuff out of dad’s carpentry lair, then spent hours soaping, oiling, and scraping every nook and cranny of the thing to make sure it wouldn’t giveaway any secrets to Mom. Henry hadn’t wanted to help, but when I told him I’d die if I was cooped up in our cottage, well, then he had to. If I was gone, who would take care of him? I mean, really take care of him?

  No one.

  With the window open I can breathe. The stars and moon cascade down on me like freedom. I pause before throwing my leg over the window frame. Henry stands right by my side, his hand resting on my knee. I know he doesn’t want me to go. “Twenty more kisses!” he used to say when he was a toddler and I had to go to school. Now, I clutch at him awkwardly and throw a kiss on his mop of dark brown hair. His face lights up like a pale sunrise washing over the dry Southern California hills. I wish I could take him with me, but he’s too young for a kegger in the meadow.

  “Read two chapters,” I say and slip into the gloom.

  I dig my ballet slipper into the dark, moist dirt and scramble up the embankment. There’s just enough light from the window of Dad’s woodshop to find a foothold. His table saw rips a shrill cry through the still night. I cringe, but can’t blame him. Mom has her yoga studio, I have the Sanctuary – that Dad made completely awesome – and, Dad has the garage converted to his carpentry lair. I glance back at the house. I guess that leaves our rundown cottage to Henry.

  But, tonight that’s not my problem.

  I slip through the gap in our wooden fence. I kicked the hole in the rotten spikes years ago. Mom and Dad have never noticed the gaping wound in our perimeter. Everything gets sanded, nailed, stained and glazed except our home. I don’t bother to soften my steps. I’m sure Mom’s buried up in her room by now with the door sealed shut listening to her meditation music; trying to regain serenity.

  Chapter Two

  The narrow road curves above our house. There’s a pullout around the corner as if the road engineers knew I’d need a place for my getaway car. Zan’s hot red jeep purrs in the dark. The steep canyon looms daunting shadows over me. My steps hesitate, fingernails clicking against each other.

  Zan wanted to see me. She called me.

  Two weeks ago I finally stopped texting and leaving her messages, but yesterday she called. Offered to give me a ride to the start of school party – a party I didn’t even know about. But, when I tried to chat, she said bye and hung up. My fingers wrap around the cold door handle. It’s like I’m on a first date with my lifetime BFF.

  Zan’s pointed features cast long shadows in the blue glow of her phone.

  “Shae!” she squeals and throws her arms around me. I put my whole heart into hugging her back.

  The gap in our friendship disappears. The long hours working at the yoga studio, the
solo hikes to the Sanctuary, the aimless staring out over the canyon and the days, weeks and months of radio silence just vanish. It’s over. We’re back together; back to normal.

  “You better not be checking me in,” I nod to her phone as I buckle in. Zan’s red curls bob as she rolls her eyes, tosses the phone in the tray between the front seats and throws the jeep in reverse. It rips up dust as I grip the “Oh Shit!” handle, but I don’t say anything. It’s like Zan thinks she’s super human and the curves of the canyon aren’t deadly.

  “Told Aiden to save me a beer,” she smiles. I can’t tell if it’s at me or about Aiden. My teeth press into each other. Guess I’m out of the loop. “How was your summer?” she asks.

  “Fine, if you like working for your mother wiping sweat off a yoga studio floor.” I don’t mean to sound pathetic, but I kinda do.

  “All summer?” she asks.

  “It was broken by moments of cleaning my brother’s staph infections and holding ladders and tools for-”

  “You must have saved some money,” Zan refuses to join my pity party. I shrug. Money doesn’t make me happy.

  “Possum!” I exclaim.

  “Where?” she asks as a possum’s eyes burn red in the headlights. Zan swerves just in time. “You have the best eyesight.”

  I shrug. “How was-”

  “Fine. Cold.”

  “Cold? In summer?”

  “Holland’s not known for its sparkling warm weather,” she says with a wry smile.

  “How are-”

  “They’re good.” Her hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter as she pitches the jeep into a sharp corner. “We had no cell service. Sorry I didn’t message you back.”

  “You got them?” I’m like a stalker.

  “Yeah. Eventually. All one hundred and twenty of them,” she throws me a sidelong glance, the corner of her mouth pulls up.

  “I counted one hundred and twenty-nine,” I toss back.

  “A hundred and fifty-three with the voice messages,” she grins. We both explode in fits of giggles. It’s like opening a can of soda after it’s been shaken up. It mostly feels good.

  “I was an idiot at Callum’s party.” I need all the air cleared.

  “An idiot?” Zan’s curls bounce back and forth as she shakes her head. “No way. You were awesome. I think a couple of the guys wet themselves.”

  “It’s just- you guys were ignoring me all night and… and I lost it.”

  “You guys?” We lock eyes for a second, before she shifts her attention back to the road. Her foot comes off the accelerator as we bounce onto a dirt road that hugs the side of the canyon. Gravel spins off the tires and plummets into the ravine below.

  “Well, Aiden. He ignored me.”

  “Aiden?” Zan’s sharp features become unusually still.

  “It’s crazy, Zan,” I lean forward. It’s been bubbling inside me all summer and I have to tell someone, and that someone has to be Zan. “I didn’t even know I liked him until that night.”

  “What does ‘like’ him mean?” Zan frowns.

  “It means, like like. Not like grade school like. Not like friends like. Not like we like Roman like… I mean-”

  “You like him?” Her skin is drawn tight and pale in the eerie dashboard light.

  “You know what I mean?” My question ends in a hesitant squeak.

  “I know what you mean,” Zan says.

  “I kind of knew in the spring that I was starting to feel that way but it wasn’t until I knew he was going away and then he wouldn’t-”

  The car comes to a screeching halt, back tires skidding to the edge of the cliff. I grab the “Oh Shit” handle with both hands. “Zan!”

  “Please don’t do this to yourself,” she says, her voice low.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask. “I’m not doing anything. I can’t help the way I feel.”

  “Feelings change. Let it go.”

  “Let it go?” I ask. “I’ve been waiting all summer to tell you this and all you say is get over it?” I want to rip the door open and step out over the ledge.

  “He’s not your type.” Zan scratches the back of her hand.

  “I guess he is or I wouldn’t have these feelings.” My fingernails are drumming on the door handle, snapping it back and forth.

  Zan’s hands press into her cheeks as she turns to me. “Listen to me, Shae,” she says with a level of earnestness I haven’t seen since she tried to convince me not to bungee jump out of the Sanctuary and into the canyon when we were 13. “I’m being blunt to save you heartache. You are not his type.”

  “So, now you know more about him than I do?” The answer ‘yes’ gnaws at my gut.

  “You are beautiful, clever, and sweet. Really, really sweet.”

  “But…”

  “He’s… he’s…”

  “Rich.” I say it because I know she doesn’t want to.

  “He’s not just rich,” she sighs. “He’s filthy rich, old money, European stock wealthy. I’ve been to his other ancestral home in Holland. It’s… he-”

  “He’s in a different league,” I murmur and my skin burns in shame as if I’m a peasant trying my hand at the prince.

  “Yeah,” she sighs. “He’s in a different league.” Her hand covers mine. I want so bad to pull away, maybe even slap her, but I don’t. I can’t lose her again. Besides, she spoke the truth. He lives in a six-hundred-year-old manor that was brought here brick by brick from Holland over a hundred years ago. A manor I’ve never even been invited to. He wears designer clothes I don’t even understand and spends all his holidays in Europe. He’s so out of my league.

  But, then, why did he look at me like that at Callum’s party? Why did he hug me and try to calm me down after I wrecked the food table? It was more than just friends. I felt it.

  “C’mon,” Zan thrusts the car back into gear and interrupts my thoughts.

  I press my face against the window to cool the heat that prickles me. I can still feel Aiden’s arms wrapped around me. We lurch along the dirt road in silence.

  “You okay?” Zan’s voice is gentle despite her crazy ass driving. “Was she a real cow tonight?”

  “Huh?” I ask. “Oh. No. Mild considering she caught me going out.” Guess we’re done talking about Aiden.

  Zan’s hand squeezes mine. Lord, I don’t need her pity. We can’t all have perfect mothers who buy us jeeps, send us to summer camp, and let us go to parties. “I wish she could be nice to you,” murmurs Zan.

  “We’re moving.” I throw up the tightly wound spring that’s been sitting in my stomach all summer. If we’re changing the subject, I’m all in.

  Zan shoots a sidelong glance at me. “What?”

  “Our house has been on the market since June.”

  “Why didn’t you- in the messages…” her voice trails off into the darkness.

  “It’s the kind of thing you have to say in person,” I mutter as I try to puzzle her out. She sounds confused but not, not hopeless, like I secretly hoped. We bump along in silence that I wait for her to break. I don’t know what I was expecting. A tear… a sob… an impassioned ‘you can’t leave me!’ I know I wanted more than silence.

  Chapter Three

  Zan yanks the wheel sharp left and we skew into a car-packed clearing. Her headlights slice through the darkness to land on Aiden and Roman, perched on the dropped tailgate of Aiden’s black truck. A stupid smile breaks across my face. I can’t help it. Regardless of my feelings for Aiden, these are my friends, my peeps, my posse. I’m never more at home than when I’m anywhere with them. My heart swells as the deserted summer fades away. Aiden ducks his eyes from the glare of Zan’s headlights. His dusty brown hair falls forward sparkling with natural gold highlights. Roman pulls his 70s pornstar, gold rimmed glasses out of the gelled nest of his hair and drops them over his eyes. Gold printed lines swirl over each shoulder of his white t-shirt. It gleams like a target against his brown skin. Zan aims her jeep at them and guns the engine.<
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  “Zan!” my voice catches in my throat, but I can’t stop the laughter bubbling out of me as we careen forward. Zan lets out a scream of delight as she slams on the breaks, inches from impact. My breath catches in my throat, but Aiden and Roman haven’t moved a muscle, except to smile. Those guys are as confident, trusting, and in control as always.

  “Where’s my beer?!” Zan yells out the window at Aiden.

  “In the cooler with the rest of them,” he tosses back.

  “Hey Chihuahua, not sure you should drink if you’re driving,” Roman yanks open Zan’s door. She pushes him out of the way and springs out of the jeep.

  “My girl is the DD tonight,” Zan tosses her sea of red curls towards me.

  A smile warms my lips. Even if I’m moving, we’re still a gang… forever. My body relaxes in the bubble of our friendship. It’s like I saw them yesterday, not three months ago.

  Aiden slides off the tailgate and walks over to my door with a smile that puts little flurries playing twister in the pit of my stomach. He opens my door and holds out his hand. I know he’s just being his old-school polite self as always, but it doesn’t stop the warm blanket from cuddling around my heart as I take his hand and step out of Zan’s jeep.

  I miss my footing and fall right into Aiden. He stumbles back a step, but then stands firm, my whole body presses against him. His hands slide down my back to rest on my hips, he’s trying to steady me, tightening his grip on my waist and holding me to him.

  “Hi,” he says and my world is in that one stupid word. My gaze is drawn up to his until it connects. Lightning flashes in his eyes.

  My nerves react and my cooing starts, soft purring deep in my throat. Aiden exhales like he’s been holding his breath; his whole body relaxes, yet somehow seems more firmly pressed into mine.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs. My skin flushes red heat in the dark.

  “I- I-”

  “Quit bogarting,” Roman wipes out whatever I was unable to say as he pushes Aiden away from me. His strong brown arms grab me up in a huge bear hug, swinging me off my feet and around in a circle.