by Emily Lowry
As I laid there, I realized how important she was to me. Jordyn was a fixture in my life. If I thought back to a memory, there was a fifty percent chance it involved her. She was more consistent than the morning sun. Even though things didn’t work out between us, if I ever needed her, she wouldn’t hesitate. She would dig through the center of the planet to help me if I was on the other side. She was the girl who was always there for me.
And right now, she needed me to be there for her. Not as a boyfriend, but as a friend. She had way too much on her plate, way more than she should have to deal with, without worrying about our friendship. Sometimes, I decided, you have to sacrifice who you want to be for someone, for who they need you to be. And right now, Jordyn needed her friend.
“I love you, you know,” I said. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to be anything. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. But I wanted you to know that I love you. And that through all of this, I’ll always love you. And no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends.”
We laid there in silence for how long, I don’t know.
Jordyn opened her mouth to speak. “We’ll always be friends?”
Her voice sounded so quiet, so weak, so unlike the Jordyn I knew. It hurt to hear her this way, but I knew there was nothing I could do.
“Always,” I said.
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
“Thank you,” Jordyn said. She coughed. “It’s cold in here.”
“Here.” I stood, curled my arms underneath Jordyn, and lifted her off the floor. She wrapped her arms around my neck and nuzzled into my chest, then I laid her on the bed and covered her with the blanket.
“Don’t go,” she said.
“I won’t.” I laid on top of the blanket beside her. She put her arm around me and rested her head on my chest. My heart beat in sync with her breathing as we lay there in the shared silence you can only have with the people closest to you. I inhaled, committing every part of this moment to my memory. This could be the last time I would ever hold her. So I held on tight, and slowly but surely, we both drifted to sleep.
Someone knocked on the door. It was dark outside.
My arm was numb from the weight of Jordyn’s head, but she was asleep. Finally. I closed my eyes again, not wanting reality to intrude.
There was another knock, then the door opened.
Chase stood in the doorway, back-lit by the hall light.
“Is she sleeping?” Chase whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Trapped?”
“Yeah.”
He crossed the room. Carefully, so as not to disturb Jordyn, he lifted her head so I could pull out my arm. I gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, then exited.
Chase closed the door quietly, and we went to the kitchen. He poured us each a glass of water. “Abby had to go,” he said. “Big assignment for the Evermore Times.”
“Good for her.”
“She’s a smart girl.” Chase finished his water and poured another glass. “How’s Jordyn?”
“She’s taking it hard,” I said. “We didn’t talk much. But I need to say something, because I owe you at least that much. No more lies. That wasn’t cool.”
Chase nodded.
“I want to tell you that you were right: I love her. I am completely and totally in love with her. So I told her. And then I told her that no matter what happened, we’d always be friends.”
Chase looked confused. Or maybe he was just tired. “So are you—”
“No,” I said quickly. “She doesn’t need a boyfriend right now. She needs a friend. Someone she can trust without worrying that things will get screwed up. Someone who will love her unconditionally. I don’t think she could handle a relationship right now, so I’m not going to push for one.”
I knew it was the right thing to do for Jordyn, but it still hurt to say the words out loud. More than anything, I wanted to be with her. But she needed something else right now.
“I thought we’d have this big moment, just the two of us,” I said. “A Ramirez special. I had it all played out in my head, that it would be this huge movie moment where the guy gets the girl and it’s a perfect, happy ending… and then I saw her. And I just knew.”
“You’re a good friend,” Chase said. He gave me a hug and patted me on the back. “Plus, maybe not being together is for the best right now. Let the dust settle on everything. But it ain’t over yet. Maybe she’ll come around at some point. Or maybe she won’t. You know as well as I do — no one tells Jordyn what she’s going to do or when.”
I laughed quietly. “No one tells Jordyn anything.”
Chase walked me to the door. “What about the bag?”
“Keep it,” I said. “It was for Jordyn. Don’t know if she’ll want it or not. You can look and decide whether to give it to her. If the time is right.”
I stepped out into the night. “Do you need anything?”
“We’ll be okay.” Chase clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Ramirez. The best. And if it had worked out differently, I would’ve been happy to see you and Jordyn together.”
53
Dylan
It was the moment of truth.
Christopher Lyons, director of the next major superhero movie franchise, was seated alongside his producers, a location scout, and an intern. They booked Beachbreak’s entire riverside patio for themselves for lunch. If they liked our food, we’d land the catering contract. If they didn’t, we wouldn’t.
Luis and I prepared the food, expertly crafting burgers, Cajun fries, and milkshakes. Nervous energy rolled through me in waves. One minute, I was excited. The next minute, I was tired. The minute after that, I wanted to throw up. Then I was excited again.
Everything my father had built depended on this meal. As crazy as it sounded, the burgers I made would determine whether Beachbreak could expand and launch new locations, or would remain a small mom and pop restaurant for the rest of its life.
I put the food on a tray and carried it out of the restaurant.
Dad was at the top of the stairs. He’d decided that the best thing to do was give the movie people their space. Let the food do the talking. He smiled at me. “Smells good.”
“I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” I said. My voice cracked.
Dad laughed. “I’m sure it’s excellent. You’re a Ramirez, after all. Good luck.”
I walked down the stairs as carefully as I could. How would it look if my feet caught and I tripped, sprawling down the stairs, burgers and shakes spilling everywhere? Never in my life had I fallen down these particular stairs, but part of my mind was one hundred percent sure this was the time I would fall.
I made it to the bottom without causing a disaster and breathed a sigh of relief.
“And here’s our meal, gents.” Mr. Lyons stood, his wiry frame straightening to an imposing height. He reminded me a lot of the boy who’d been in here, chatting to Sofia — fair haired and blue eyed, with angular, aristocratic features, and a posh British accent. “Just in the middle of the table will be fine. We want to try everything you have.”
“Thanks,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. What could you say to the man who had directed superhero movies that made — literally — billions of dollars? I set the tray in the center of the table, and even before I left, people were scrambling to get their hands on their favorites.
Mr. Lyons laughed. “Stay a minute, this won’t take long. I’m a firm believer that you can tell everything you need to know about food when you take the first bite.”
The rest of the crew watched as Mr. Lyons grabbed the last burger and fries from the tray. I recognized it immediately — a Midnight Meal. One of my creations would decide the fate of my father’s restaurant.
I put my hands behind my back and stood as straight and proud as I could. I tried to control my trembling legs. This was more nerve-wracking than the last minu
te of a playoff game.
My heart pounded in my chest.
Mr. Lyons lifted the burger to his mouth and took a bite. He closed his eyes, chewed the meat, tasted the flavor. Without a word, he reached for his napkin, then dabbed the corner of his mouth. He put the burger back on the plate. His eyes found me.
“That, young man, is one of the best burgers I’ve ever tasted.”
I exhaled.
The rest of the crew dug into their burgers and it was more of the same. Plenty of compliments to go around. More than a few excited swears. Meanwhile, I was still standing in disbelief.
One of the best burgers he had ever tasted.
And it was something I’d created.
“Send your old man down,” Mr. Lyons said. “I’d like to sign Beachbreak to handle part of the movie’s catering. I think we could all do with a burger and fries once a week, agreed gents?”
Relief flooded through me.
My legs shook as I walked up the stairs. I needed to hold the railing to stop myself from falling over. We’d done it. We’d actually done it. Dad had been off most of the summer, and Luis and I had come together to help fulfill his dream.
We’d done it.
Dad and Luis waited at the top of the steps. Dad had his hands clasped tightly together. “Well?”
“They must have liked it,” I said, “because they want you to go down there and sign to cater the movie.”
Luis gasped, wobbled, and almost fainted.
Dad clasped my shoulders. “Are you joking? If you are joking, this is not funny, mijo.”
I grinned. “Get down there, Dad.”
Dad smiled the biggest smile since the day Sofia was born. “Come here. Both of you.”
We did.
Dad put his arms around our shoulders, pulling us into a huddle. “You boys always make me proud, but today… I could not have been blessed with finer sons. You two, and Sofia, have outdone yourselves. We will throw a party for Beachbreak. A party to end all parties. No one does anything by themselves, so invite the people you love.”
He kissed me and Luis on the forehead, clicked his heels together, then danced down the stairs.
Luis hugged me. “We did it, bro. We did it.”
“Yeah, we did.” I grinned and threw my arm over his shoulder. We watched from the top of the stairs as Dad approached the table, smiling and laughing. I thought about his words.
No one does anything by themselves, so invite the people you love.
There was one person I really wanted to share this moment with. I didn’t know if she’d be up for a party, but she was the one I loved. I pulled out my phone and sent her a text. If it was anything like the other texts, there wouldn’t be a response.
But I had to try.
54
Jordyn
For supper, I ate yet another bowl of cereal. This time, I subbed out Froot Loops in favor of Cap’n Crunch. It was important to get your nutrition from a variety of different sources. I poured myself a glass of orange juice, because I was incapable of eating anything but breakfast food at the moment. Chase was at Abby’s. He stopped by my room before leaving, asking if I would be okay. I said I would be.
And so I was alone.
Again.
There were footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later, mom entered the kitchen. Her puffy eyes were lined with dark circles. She dabbed at them with a tissue, then tried to smile. “How are you… are you eating cereal for supper? Again?”
“That answers your question, doesn’t it?” I snapped. The last thing I could handle right now was being judged for my dietary habits.
“I’ll make us some spaghetti. Top it with extra cheese, the way you like.” Mom’s smile was pleading. She desperately wanted to do something, anything right. And making me food was the most motherly thing she could think of. It was also the most motherly thing I could remember her doing.
“Spaghetti sounds good.” I pushed my cereal bowl to the side. My stomach grumbled in agreement. Apparently, it wasn’t a fan of four bowls of cereal a day.
Mom found a pot, filled it with water, and put it on the burner. She added a dash of salt. “My mom used to say that the key to making great pasta was to make sure the water was as salty as the sea.” She dipped her finger in the pot and licked it. Winced. “That should do it.”
I sat very still. When mom buzzed around the kitchen, it usually meant she was building to something. A confrontation about something I did wrong. If she said anything about how I was handling the divorce, I was grabbing my bowl of cereal and locking myself in the bedroom.
The water boiled.
Mom broke a handful of spaghetti in half and set it in the pot, using a wooden spoon to force the pasta beneath the bubbling water. “Your dad and I want you to know that this divorce has nothing to do with you and Chase.”
“That’s a relief,” I muttered.
Normally, my sarcasm drew withering glares.
Today, it made mom smile. “That’s my girl,” she said. “We love you both very much. And we know that we’ve treated you unfairly in the past. I can’t speak for your father, but I know I’ve compared you to your brother. I’ve expected you to be like him, but you’re not him. You’re your own person, and you should be proud of that. I’m proud of you too, sweetie. You’re different from Chase, and we should treat you differently. I want to do better at showing you that.”
To say I was shocked would undersell what I felt. Throughout my entire life, mom had never admitted that she expected me to be like Chase. Whenever I confronted her about it, she denied it. And now she was admitting it? Without prompting?
This wasn’t a normal mother-daughter chat.
My phone vibrated. A text from Dylan wondering how I was and asking if I was going to Beachbreak’s party. I was proud of him, proud of Beachbreak, but I wasn’t sure I was up to seeing other people. I didn’t reply.
“Come here,” Mom said. “I want to show you something.”
I went over.
“Do you know how to tell if pasta is cooked?”
“By biting it?”
“Nope. Like this.” She plunged a fork into the boiling pot and pulled out a noodle. She grabbed the noodle, winked, and threw it onto the ceiling. It stuck.
My jaw dropped.
Mom.
My mom.
The woman who despised how messy my room was. Who despised how I kept my clean and dirty laundry in carefully separated piles on the floor. Who couldn’t believe that I would wear a shirt with a stain on it. That same person had just thrown a piece of food on the ceiling.
“Do you want to try?”
I snatched the fork from her hand and scooped out a string of spaghetti. I looked at her once to reassure myself that it was okay, then I threw the pasta to the ceiling. It stuck for a breath, then peeled away and fell—
Into mom’s hair.
Typical, Jordyn. You get the chance to do something fun with your mom and you screw it up.
But mom didn’t frown. Didn’t scream.
Instead, she burst out laughing as the string of spaghetti dangled between her eyes. She crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out as she tried to focus on it. And then I was laughing. We were both laughing too hard to trust ourselves with moving the pot of boiling pasta to the sink to strain it, and when we finally did, our spaghetti was delightfully overcooked.
“We’re going to be okay, you know,” Mom said as she set a plate of pasta on the table. “You, me, Chase, your dad. This divorce isn’t the end of the story, just the end of the chapter.”
We ate dinner together in the darkness of the kitchen, not bothering to turn on a light. There was a sadness between us, but there was something more, too. Something nice and whole and warm. It felt, at least for one night, that I was just a kid again, and my mom was a superhero.
“I know it’s a crazy time in our lives, but do you want to do this weekly? Just you and me? We’ll cook a meal together, or go out somewhere? Just us?” Mom asked.
“Me too.” Mom reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
The front door opened. Chase was back. He said hi, then rushed upstairs.
I finished my supper, cleaned my plate — probably for the first time in history — and went to my room. There was a bag resting on my unmade bed.
“Chase?”
Without waiting for a response, I started digging through the bag. There were two stacks of flash cards, each bundled together with an elastic. The cards were white with pink lining and little pink hearts on the back. They looked familiar.
I pulled the elastic off one and turned it over.
My handwriting was on the other side.
I refuse to answer this question on account of it being stupid.
The cards from the Love Doctor. I smirked and checked the other cards.
I see another stupid question.
Samuel Danielson.
Samuel Danielson.
If the first set of cards were mine, then the second set must have been…
I ripped the elastic off so fast it snapped. I recognized the handwriting immediately.
Dylan’s.
My breath caught as I read his answers.
If the world tilted on its side, where would you land?
Hopefully some place where I didn’t have to answer this question.
An animal spirit resides within us all. Tell me, what is the name of the animal that resides within you?
Jordyn’s stuffed animal.
I snorted. What were the odds?
Then the last question.
When the clock strikes midnight, and there’s nowhere to run, to whom do you turn?
I turned over the card.
Jordyn Jones.
I wanted to cry.
“Dylan left those for you.” Chase leaned against the door frame. “We didn’t stay at the cabin after you left. We drove to Kansas and caught up with the carnival. Found the Love Doctor — and her cards. Apparently — and this sounded stupid to me — if she thinks she finds an actual true match, she keeps the cards. Yours and Dylan’s were the only ones she kept all summer. He wanted to give them to you. It was supposed to be his big moment.”