by Natasja Eby
“Julian’s going to compete against Red in the boxing tournament?” she practically squeaks.
Something to know about Cherry is that she’s not the squeaky voice kind of girl. She’s the husky voice kind, like you’d imagine a jazz singer would sound like talking. My co-worker gives me a look and then suddenly needs to take a smoke break. I’m alone.
“It’s true,” I finally answer Cherry. I don’t see what good it would do to lie about it. She’d find out for sure eventually, just like the entire school probably will.
“Wha—he can’t—where were you when this was decided?” She sounds accusatory. I don’t like that, especially since it’s true.
“Right next to him?” I answer meekly. I never knew Cherry could be so intimidating.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” She’s verging on hysterical now, so I’m glad there’s no one waiting for nachos.
I guess I might as well tell her the truth. “Look, he was standing up for me and for himself. He was about to take hit after hit and so I put a date on their eventual fight, because they both knew it was coming. Now, instead of getting beaten on the spot he has the chance to—”
“Get beaten in front of the whole school?” Cherry fills in for me. Behind her insult, I see a mixture of concern and something unidentifiable. “That guy is huge. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Okay, to be fair to Cherry, I guess it never occurred to me what would happen if Julian was terrible at fighting and if he lost. I also never really thought about the fact that other people would be watching while he potentially took the beating of his life.
“Cherry,” I sigh, “I may have instigated it, but Julian took the challenge. He’s the one that wanted to do it.”
“Then you’ll have to get him to back down,” she says firmly. But I’m not swayed.
“It’s too late to back down,” I tell her. “We’ve already started training. And FYI, he’s actually pretty good.”
“We?” she asks suspiciously, her eyes narrowing.
“Yes, we. I signed up for the tournament too,” I say. Her eyes open and her eyebrows rise to her forehead. A thought occurs to me. “You still like him, don’t you?”
“No,” she says too quickly. Her expression softens. “But I would care if he got hurt.”
It’s as much of an admission as I need. I’m about to kill two birds with one stone. “Well, I care about him, too. That’s why I’m training with him. Maybe instead of getting mad at me, you should find a way to support him or help him.”
“Hmph,” she lets out. She turns and is about to walk away when she says quietly over her shoulder, “I’ll think about it.”
I smile to myself. Step one: make Jules a boxing champion. Step two: make Cherry fall back in love with him.
It’s the perfect plan.
***
After work I check my email—three from friends back home. Still no Kai. Lily’s is all about her new boyfriend which is kind of…not as interesting as if we were sitting together giggling about it, if I’m honest with myself. Andrea wants me to know something but doesn’t know if she should say it.
Andrea’s second email hurts. The thing she wanted to tell me? Lily’s boyfriend’s name isn’t Devin. It’s Kai.
I go back up through my emails and delete every single one that Lily has sent me since the move. It’s not that I blame her for wanting to be with him, or blame him for moving on. But it feels a little…soon, right? I know he was never technically my boyfriend, but she knew how much I liked him. She could have at least had the decency to just tell me. But she didn’t.
CHAPTER Twelve
I still miss Hawaii, even though I’m annoyed about Lily and Kai. Back home, everything was so much simpler. I didn’t have to put on stupid long pants and socks (sometimes two pairs!) every day. I also didn’t have to deal with Cherry, who’s being completely indifferent to me because she’s still hung up over Julian.
I yank a cozy sweater over my head and think about Julian, who it turns out can actually box. Much better than I can, too, but I’m trying to not let that bother me. It’s important for Julian to learn to box as well as possible in the short time he has. Of course, my uncle has turned into Sifu Bossypants and for some reason, that’s highly motivating for Julian.
Me? Not so much. I do not work well under that kind of pressure. The only thing that motivates me is watching Julian get better and better and wanting to have that, too.
It’s still cold out, by the way, and I still refuse to wear Adrian’s hat. Don’t even get me started on him. He used to always be watching me and trying to find dumb excuses to talk to me. Now, nothing. It makes me wonder if it’s because I’m an athlete too now. I mean, he must have heard. Practically the whole school knows. Julian and I can tell by the way people whisper when we’re around.
It’s strange; that doesn’t bother me, but Cherry and Adrian do. Something strange must have happened on the plane trip over to Canada, because this new Elli is nothing like the old Elli. The old Elli would have felt insecure by all the whispering, but I just brush it off like it’s nothing. The old Elli would also ditch people for mistreating her, but this new me? I want to find a way back into their lives, and I don’t even know why.
I wince as I push my arms through the sleeves of the sweater. Everything hurts—like literally, my entire body is screaming at me from all the physical activity I’ve been putting it through. I don’t know how Julian’s feeling—since he barely shows it, surprisingly—but I can imagine that he’s in just as much pain. Of course, that’s just speculation. Maybe he’s having the time of his life. He and Dan get along pretty well actually.
I’m also tired from going to training, working, and trying to keep up with school. It’s not that I want my opponent to win when it comes to the tournament, but at the same time, I’d rather have good grades in school. I’m just saying that being smart lasts a little longer than being an athlete.
I’m glad it’s getting a little warmer out, though. It’s March now, and I guess the locals think it’s “hot” enough outside to wear things like t-shirts? Some of the boys even have shorts on. Most of the girls are prancing around in these light little sweaters that are really cute, but look like they would cause pneumonia or something. A lot of them are even wearing flats and I mean...I’m a forecast kind of girl and I happen to know it’s going to snow tomorrow, so that sucks for them I guess.
Today, Mom and Dad are muttering angry things to each other. I have no idea how they got this way. When I was little, they seemed like the perfect couple. They were always holding hands and kissing each other, and showing obvious displays of affection in public and in private. And of course, their love was made complete with their perfect little daughter (other people’s words, not mine), and it was all just so...delusional, I guess.
Back then, I always thought I’d want a love like that. You know, to be with that one person that makes you glow, that makes you feel like you’re the most special thing on the whole Earth. Now I’m starting to wonder if marriage is such a good idea after all. I mean, look what it turns into over time.
“What is it this time?” I ask as I join them for breakfast before school.
I notice the big fluffy flakes falling outside the window, and I can’t wait to sit all smug and cozy in my boots and heavy sweater while the other kids at school suffer.
“What is what?” my mother asks sharply.
“What is it that you’re fighting about today?” I clarify. As if that wasn’t already obvious to her.
“We’re not fighting,” she says, with a tone of voice that clearly betrays her. “We just had a disagreement.”
Dad gives her a look. “Don’t worry about it, Elli.”
“I’m not worried,” I say defiantly as I pour milk into my cereal bowl. “Why should I be worried about you guys fighting every day? I’m not.” And to punctuate my lie, I slam the milk jug back down on the table.
Mom is flustered now, not like when she was argu
ing with Dad a second ago. It looks like she’s trying to come up with something to say, and I’m just glad that for a couple minutes, they’ve paused their “disagreement.”
“This is because of your uncle isn’t it?” Mom asks suddenly, just as I take a huge spoonful of my Cheerios.
I try to swallow calmly without sputtering. “What is because of Dan?”
“This attitude you’ve developed,” she says with a frown.
She’s such a parent.
“What are you talking about?” I ask her. I honestly don’t think I have any sort of attitude that I didn’t bring with me from Hawaii.
“What are you talking about, Shauna?” Dad asks. He sounds a little defensive, and I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t like what Mom’s saying about me or what she’s insinuating about his brother.
“You’re different, Elli,” she says, completely ignoring my dad. “You suddenly want to box, and you’re hanging out with boys in the basement, and I—I just don’t know about any of this.”
I sigh. “Mom, we’ve been over this. Julian is just a friend and we’re training together with Uncle Dan. That’s all.” I slurp the last of my milk and prepare to leave the table.
“Why are you really doing this?” she says. Her tone of voice stops me cold. There’s something she’s not saying. But then it comes out. “Did he put you up to this? To…redeem himself or something?”
I open my mouth, but suddenly my dad exclaims, “Shauna!”
“What?” she snaps at him.
“Elli can box if she wants to,” dad says. I want to cheer for him, but then he lowers his voice like I still won’t be able to hear him and says, “I’m sure it’s just a phase. It’ll only last as long as this boyfriend does.”
Mom makes a strangling sound while I shout, “Dad! This is not a phase and Julian’s not my boyfriend. Haven’t you been listening to me at all?”
Dad’s face reddens as he realizes his mistake. “Elli, I just meant—”
“Whatever, I don’t have time for this. I have to go to school.”
Both my parents follow me out of the kitchen and into the hallway, watching me as I start to pull my winter clothes on. I’m now fully annoyed with both of them. I thought at least Dad was on my side, but I guess not.
“Don’t you want a ride?” Dad asks, having the decency to sound slightly embarrassed.
“No, it’s not far.” Okay, I’ve surprised myself by this one, since I would never have said that about walking to school in this weather. But I don’t want to be with either of them right now.
“It’s cold, Elli,” Mom says. “Keep your coat zipped up.”
“I will,” I say, offering them both a tight smile as I heft up my bag.
The falling snow looked kind of pretty and non-threatening from inside, but as soon as I get outside, I wish I hadn’t just declared my independence. It is way too cold for this skinny chick from Hawaii.
As I stamp a trail toward school, I start to reconsider the idea of getting involved in my parents’ relationship problems. I mean, I know I’m their kid, but that doesn’t mean I have anything to do with what goes on between them, right? On the other hand, I’m kind of glad I told them I’m sick of their yelling. Maybe they’ll care because I’m their kid.
I’m really glad Julian told me that trick about spraying my boots with that repellent stuff because otherwise they’d be totally soaked right now. You know, Julian’s been really nice since he met me, and he hasn’t put up much of a fight during our training. I owe him big time. And when I get a chance, I’ll repay him. Somehow.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that when a car pulls up to the curb just ahead of me, it startles me and I almost slip on a particularly icy patch of sidewalk. The car looks vaguely familiar but I can’t tell why. I’m still trying to figure it out when the front passenger window goes down and Adrian’s cute head pops out.
“Elli!” he calls to me. He almost sounds angry and I frown at him. “Do you need a ride? Get in. Seriously, it’s way too cold out here for you.”
I’m touched by his concern, but considering he hasn’t talked to me in a good week or two, I’m not about to just jump at his propositions. Plus, my newfound sense of independence has me hesitating.
When I don’t answer quickly enough for his liking, he says, “Come on, it’s nice and warm in here.”
Funny, how he doesn’t even really know me but he knows that one of my most hated things is the stupid cold in Canada. I come up to the car and get in without another word, and I think I actually hear Adrian sigh with relief. He’s right about one thing—it’s sooo warm in the car.
He turns around and asks, “Why were you walking to school? Do you not watch the forecasts or something?”
I shrug. “I just felt like it.”
“And you’re not wearing gloves or the hat I gave you because…?” He’s peering at me with his warm chocolate eyes and it makes me uncomfortable.
Considering my morning, I’m not exactly inclined to be chewed out by him, so I say, “Is this your mom?”
Of course it must be his mother, but it’s fun watching his cheeks go pink when he realizes how rude he’s being. The middle-aged woman driving gives me a little appreciative smile in the rear-view mirror.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” he mumbles. “Yes, Elli, this is my mom. Mom, this is the girl I told you about—the one from Hawaii.”
Whoa, wait. He told his mom about me? I’m starting to warm from the inside now.
“Very nice to meet you, Elli,” she says. She has the same eyes as Adrian, I realize, but her hair is blond.
“Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. McDuff,” I say politely. “Thank you so much for stopping for me. I didn’t realize it was quite so cold.”
“Now will you tell me where my hat is?” Adrian asks.
I wonder if Mrs. McDuff knows he gave me his hat and how much she knows about me. To tell the truth, the hat is in my backpack, where it always is. I put it in there a couple days after Adrian gave it to me and never took it out. I don’t want to admit that though.
“Why, do you want it back?” I ask coyly.
“No,” he says, looking at me like I’m crazy. “I told you keep warm. You’re supposed to wear it.”
“Oh.” Welcome back, tongue-tied Elli.
“Do you want this one?” He asks, and points to his head where another plain black hat is sitting.
“It’s a nice beanie, but no thanks,” I say.
“A…beanie?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
“She means your hat,” his mother supplies.
“Of course I mean his hat,” I say. “Beanie, hat… What do you guys call it?”
“This is a toque,” Adrian says, pointing once again to it so that we’re both clear. “Everyone calls them toques. Please don’t say beanie around the other kids. They’ll think you’re nuts.”
I laugh as Mrs. McDuff admonishes Adrian for talking to me in such a way. I don’t mind. I guess if I have to stay here for the next few years, then I might as well be able to speak like the locals.
“It’s all right,” I say. “I forgot to bring my American-Canadian dictionary with me today.”
Adrian smiles and my heart skips a beat. Literally. I always thought that was a stupid cliché, but it actually just happened and I’m stunned. Mrs. McDuff pulls up to the school and I realize Adrian and I will be walking in together. Like we came together—which we did. But still.
“Thanks again for the ride,” I tell Adrian’s mom. She smiles sweetly at me and I think that if I were to spend a lot of time with Adrian, I wouldn’t mind if some of it were with her too.
“Soo…” Adrian says smoothly.
I throw him a bone. “Thanks for stopping for me, seriously. It was really sweet.”
He smiles again, and I realize that if I were to spend a lot of time with him, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing his smile more than twice in five minutes.
***
Later that day, as I skip rope with Julia
n (I’ll explain that in a bit), I keep thinking about Adrian, and Adrian’s smile, and Adrian’s mom, and Adrian’s hat, and watching Adrian play hockey. After watching hockey practice with Cherry, I had to look up a few games on Youtube to determine whether or not he’s a good player, but I’ve come to the conclusion that he definitely is.
“Elli, is everything alright?” Julian asks me.
“Yeah, why?” I say, all out of breath. At least, I hope he assumes that’s why I’m talking like that.
“Because you stopped skipping rope two minutes ago while I was working my butt off,” he says with a smirk.
“Sorry,” I mumble, picking my rope back up.
“You’re just lucky Dan’s not here at the moment otherwise you would have gotten yelled at,” he says, letting his rope down for a bit.
“He’s always yelling at me lately,” I say, before I start skipping again.
“He just wants you to do well,” Julian says gently.
I huff, because that’s pretty much the only response I can make. My uncle managed to convince us that skipping is something every boxer does, but I didn’t believe him until I looked it up. Apparently jumping rope helps to build stamina, strengthen leg muscles, trains you to keep light on your feet and have good coordination, and is good cardiovascular. I guess if Muhammad Ali did it, then I should too.
It’s not easy though, despite the fact that every little child seems to be able to do it so effortlessly. But to keep up a continuous rhythm takes a surprising amount of work. We’re trying to build up to going 20 minutes at a time. Right now I can only manage about four, and Julian, of course, can do a good seven or eight minutes. I just have to keep reminding myself that I’m doing a good thing by being here for him, regardless of the fact that he’s the one who’s helping me instead of the other way around.
CHAPTER thirteen
It’s busy today at work so there must be some kind of a game on tonight. I wonder if Adrian’s playing, but I won’t be able to find out until I take a break. In the meantime, I’m serving the masses their masses of junk food.