by Laura Miller
“So,” she starts, before I have a chance to think of somethin’. “My brother’s taking his girlfriend to see Rebel Friday night, and they said I could go because I really wanted to see it. But I really don’t want to be the third wheel, and you’ve been so nice to me with me not knowing anyone and all.”
I stop walkin’ and look at her because I almost think if we don’t stop for at least a second, she’ll run out of breath and pass out.
She finds my eyes and inhales deeply. “Would you want to come with me?”
I don’t think my expression changes for a few seconds. I think I’m tryin’ to process what this girl’s askin’. If I’m not mistaken, I think she’s askin’ me out on a date.
“Amy Calloway, are you askin’ me out?”
Her cheeks redden, and she crosses her arms against her chest and shifts her weight onto her other leg.
“Well, I guess I am.” She says it so confidently it’s almost as if she transforms from a sheep into a warrior right in front of my eyes.
I just keep my curious stare on her. I’m learnin’ fast this girl’s got some surprises behind her innocent little smile.
She shifts her weight onto her other leg, and I realize she’s still waitin’ for my answer. “I’d be happy to go,” I say, feelin’ my mouth lift on one side.
“Good,” she breathes out. She starts to walk away, leavin’ me to stand there and hash out what just happened. “I’ll talk to you more about it tomorrow,” she says. “I’ve gotta run for now.”
“Okay,” I manage to get out. I watch her hurry over to a pickup truck in the parking lot. There’s a guy drivin’ it with shaggy blond hair that looks as if it’s the exact same color as Amy’s. I’m guessin’ that’s her brother. Or at least I hope that’s her brother—or that makes what just happened even weirder. In fact, what did just happen? Did Sears County Amy just ask me to the movies Friday night? I stand in my place and ponder it for a second, replaying every word in my head over and over again, until finally I’m pretty convinced that I didn’t just dream it all up.
Well, I guess I’m goin’ to the movies with Amy Calloway Friday night. A sliver of a smile resurfaces on my face as I watch that pickup truck pull away. But then the smile quickly fades, and I find my hand reachin’ for the quartz heart through my tee shirt. I feel its hard little shape, and I squeeze it in between my fingers. Regardless of how I spin it, Amy’s not Brooke. And I know I should feel lucky. Out of all the boys, even the upperclassman ones, that beautiful girl from Sears County chose me. Now, why don’t I feel lucky? I think it’s because I miss her so much. I miss Brooke, but it’s been a year since I’ve heard from her, and I’m beginnin’ to think there’s a good chance I might never hear from her again. But even so, I still feel as if I’m cheatin’ on her. Or at the very least, I’m cheatin’ on her ghost with a little blonde named Amy Calloway.
Chapter Nineteen
Somethin’ I’ve Lost
It’s Friday night. Amy and her brother should be here any minute. I’ve got my best pair of jeans on—the only ones I’ve got that don’t have any holes in them—and a tee shirt. I look in the mirror. I think I look pretty good—as good as it gets anyway. I go to grab some cologne, and I notice the shine comin’ off the chain around my neck. I tug the heart out from under my shirt. Its prisms dance in the light from the ceiling fan above me. Maybe Brooke doesn’t want to find me. That thought had never crossed my mind before, but maybe it’s true. Maybe the reason why I haven’t heard from her in so long is because she doesn’t want to hear from me. Suddenly, it’s as if my heart just sinks in my chest. It’s been a year since I’ve heard anything from her. For all I know, she’s got a new life and a new boyfriend, and I’m old news. It’s hard to believe any of that, and I don’t think I do—believe any of it really. But what choice do I have? I have no idea where she is. She could be anywhere. I have no way of gettin’ in contact with her. I have no way of knowin’ I’ll ever see her again. In fact, I’m beginnin’ to think our time together was only just stolen moments—like we were never supposed to have them at all. Maybe it is time to let her go.
I fall onto the side of my bed and just sit there for a few silent minutes. Maybe it is time to move on. And maybe it’s best to give Amy a fightin’ chance. She seems like a nice girl. She doesn’t deserve someone who’s in love with a ghost.
Headlights light up the opposite wall, and I glance out my window and see a car pullin’ up the drive. It’s not her brother’s truck, but it must be them. I go to tuck the necklace safely inside my tee shirt again when I stop. I look at the way the light hits the quartz heart one last time, and I think about the first time I saw it catchin’ the sun’s rays. It was around Brooke’s neck then.
I’m not really expectin’ it, but a sigh crawls past my lips as I slip the chain over my head. It’s the first time I’ve ever taken it off. I close my eyes and squeeze the heart in the palm of my hand. On the back of my eyelids is Brooke with her wet hair slicked back and drops of water hangin’ from her eyelashes. Someday, I won’t be able to remember every detail of the way she was. And even though that hurts a little to think about, it gives me a little peace too because that means someday, it won’t be so easy for her to pull me back.
I drop the chain and its quartz heart carefully into my top nightstand drawer. I hesitate before I close the drawer, and I think about slippin’ the chain back on, but I don’t. Instead, I push the drawer shut and head out of my bedroom, hittin’ the light on the way out.
“Mom, they’re here. I’ll be back.”
I hear my mom say somethin’ about bein’ careful or bein’ late or both, but that’s after I’m already out the door.
I make my way to the car. The driver’s side window is open. From behind the wheel, her brother nods a greeting. I nod back just as Amy is gettin’ out of the front seat.
“Hey,” she says.
I smile without even thinkin’ about it. “Hi.”
“We’ll sit in the back,” she says, opening the back door on her side.
“All right,” I say.
I get in and close the door behind me. Amy’s already in and reachin’ for her seatbelt. I do the same.
“We still have to pick up Abbie,” I hear her say as my seat buckle clicks into place.
I glance over at her and notice for the first time how short her skirt is—right before I notice her brother adjusting the rearview mirror. And all of a sudden, I see his dark eyes starin’ back at me. And while his hair color matches Amy’s to a T, his eyes do not. Amy’s are bright blue. His are a deep shade of serial-killer green.
“Rick,” he announces, without so much as a tiny smile.
I look at the mirror and not actually at him. “River,” I say. I try to swallow the lump that’s growin’ in my throat. I’m a protective brother too, but jeez, this guy has it down. Is this what happens to ya when your little sister starts datin’?
All of a sudden, I notice my hands are gettin’ sweaty. I’m not sure if it’s Amy and her too-short-for-school skirt or the look her brother’s givin’ me. It only took me a couple days to figure out who Rick was. He’s a junior. He and Abbie, who’s also a junior, have been datin’ since their freshman year. Rick is a pitcher on the baseball team. He’s about my height, but his arms are bigger than most of the guys in school. I look up to him because he’s a good baseball pitcher. But still, I wasn’t really afraid of him, until now.
Rick takes his eyes off the rearview mirror to back out of the driveway, and for the first time in almost a minute, I take a rushed breath and look over at Amy. She smiles at me, probably completely unaware that her brother wants to publically skin me alive.
“How was your day?” she asks.
“Good,” I say, catchin’ a glance at the rearview mirror again. Rick’s eyes are back on me. “I, uh, didn’t see you today.”
I notice a bashful-lookin’ smile break across Amy’s face. “Did that make it good?”
“What? No,” I say quickly. Dam
n it. Rick’s eyes leave the road for the mirror. “Two separate thoughts, I promise. I just meant I didn’t see you at all today.”
“I know.” She lowers her eyes and smiles. “I’m just kidding. I was in the counselor’s office during first lunch, planning out my next four years.”
“Four years? We just started.”
Amy laughs, and if I’m not mistaken, I think Rick does a little too.
“Yeah,” she says. “They’ll get you too. I think they’re going up the list backwards. Asher has got to be about last then.”
I smile—not because I have to meet with the counselor and make up some bullshit about what classes I want to take a million years from now but because she knows my last name. I mean, sure, she probably saw my schedule or somethin’. But I wouldn’t know her last name if it weren’t for everyone who ever talks about her brother. Just like famous people, no one can seem to talk about Rick without callin’ him by his full name. He’s right up there with Tom Cruise and Hugh Jackman. He’s known as Rick Calloway. And he’s a bit of a legend at school, with him being All-State and all.
I look over at Amy. She’s bickerin’ back and forth with her brother now about somethin’ I guess happened earlier. I take the moment to study her. She’s wearin’ that short skirt that shows off her tanned legs. She’s got nice legs. They’re not long like Brooke’s, but they’re nice. Her top is white and frilly. Her hair is down and lyin’ long against her chest.
“River?” I suddenly hear her brother say.
I look up into the mirror because I know now that’s where he’ll be.
“Yeah?” I ask. I’m a little nervous he caught on to where I was starin’.
“Cardinals or Royals?” he asks.
“Oh, uh, Cardinals,” I say. “Definitely Cardinals.”
I look at Amy. She looks strangely relieved. Then I glance back at the mirror, and for the first time, the eyes starin’ back at me or smilin’. I breathe a sigh of relief.
We pick up Rick’s girlfriend, and then we’re off to the theater. Once we get there, I buy Amy’s ticket. My parents didn’t know it, but Grandpa gave me money here and there for workin’ for him. And I never really spent it on anything. I was saving it up to buy a train ticket to see Brooke. I always figured Grandpa would approve of me spendin’ it on a girl. But I guess I’m not savin’ up for a train ticket anymore. Or maybe I am. Hell, I don’t know.
“You’re not wearing your necklace,” Amy whispers in my ear once we’re in our seats.
I’m a little thrown off. It’s not everyday a girl whispers in my ear. It takes me back to a warm summer day more than a year ago when Brooke told me that she loved me—the same day she told me she was leavin’ me. That was one of the best and worst days of my life. I might very well forget everything else about that summer... eventually, but I’ll never forget that.
“Yeah,” I simply say. “I’m not.”
She flashes me a knowing smile as if she knew where the necklace came from or what it meant to me or why I’m not wearin’ it anymore. And then I take her hand. I just reach over and squeeze her hand, and I hold onto it. I really don’t know what comes over me—just some crazy wave of courage, I guess. Or maybe it was her knowing smile—a little smile that said she’s willing to take a chance on me even though I might still be lookin’ for somethin’ I’ve lost.
It’s dark in the little theater, but I’m pretty sure I still just saw her brother give me the look of death. I’ll probably pay for this later, but I don’t care. Her hand feels nice—being next to her feels nice. And that little knowing smile of hers especially felt nice.
***
We watch the movie, and her brother takes me home first. I say bye to Rick and Abbie and lastly, Amy. There’s no kiss. I didn’t think I would make it to the front door alive if I were to attempt somethin’ like that in front of Rick. Regardless, Amy doesn’t seem to mind. I tell her I had fun. She smiles that little bashful smile of hers I’m already gettin’ used to, and then that’s it. Rick backs out of the drive and leaves me standin’ there, just smilin’ away to myself.
Hot damn. I think that was my first real date. And I think a girl asked me on it. When the car’s out of sight, my stupid grin spreads wide across my face. I can’t help it. Amy’s a nice girl, and we had a nice night.
I tilt my head back and catch the stars against the black sky, and then I feel my smile start to fade. High up there, I notice Aquarius. Without even thinkin’, I trace with my finger its stars, until I get to the last one, and I whisper my grandpa’s words out loud: “The Star of Hidden Things.” The smile vanishes from my face. I think it’s replaced with thoughts instead. I’m happy that I met Amy. I’m sad that Brooke’s gone. I miss my grandpa, and I have no idea what The Star of Hidden Things is all about.
I stare at the constellation for a little bit longer. It’s as if my eyes are dipped in honey or somethin’. They slowly make their way around, movin’ from one star to the next until the pattern is complete. I do that over and over again. And when I’ve finally had my fill, I turn and gradually make my way back inside, leavin’ the black sky and its stars and my grandpa’s words solely to the night.
Chapter Twenty
Something Happy
“Amy.” I stop at her locker. I’m nervous. I’ve learned that nerves are little things that just kind of creep up on ya—mostly when you’re not really expectin’ them.
Her eyes land square on me, and it’s as if my darn words just float away. And for a second, I just stare at her, prayin’ they come back. And thankfully, they do, just before it starts to get too awkward.
“You wanna go fishin’ with me Saturday?” I ask.
“Fishing?”
“Yeah,” I say. “We’ve got a little pond behind our house.”
She smiles and squeezes the text book she’s holding to her chest. I try not to look at her chest. “Okay.”
“Okay, you will?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” My smile grows into a big, goofy grin before I can stop it. “Good,” I say again for no particular reason.
***
It’s Saturday mornin’. I get Grant’s older brother to drive to Amy’s house. It sucks not havin’ a license yet. Who the hell made sixteen the magic age? Hell, I’ve been drivin’ things since I was eight, and it wasn’t until I was eleven that I learned I wasn’t supposed to be. The day I learned that, my dad and I were pickin’ up a tractor part for Grandpa. And while Dad threw the part onto the back of the truck, I got behind the wheel. A few seconds later, Dad got into the passenger’s seat. And we got damn near all the way to the edge of that parkin’ lot before he told me to stop the truck. He was all in a panic. I thought he was havin’ some kind of attack or somethin’.
“We’re in town,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“You can’t drive in town.”
“I can too. Town’s highway is just like any other highway.”
“No, I mean you’ve gotta be sixteen to drive in town,” he said.
“Sixteen? But I’m just as tall as some sixteen-year-olds; that shouldn’t matter.”
Dad got out and walked to the driver’s side. So, I reluctantly scooted over to shotgun.
“It doesn’t matter if you can reach the pedals, son. It only matters that you’re sixteen. It’s the law.”
I remember bein’ quiet for a little bit, chewin’ on the idea. Then I eventually came to the conclusion that town laws were way stranger than country laws.
But anyway, the law says I can’t even pick up a girl to go fishin’, so now I gotta pay Big Justin over here ten of my hard-earned dollars to go a couple miles.
We pull up to Amy’s house, and she comes out wearin’ jeans and a sweatshirt that says somethin’ about pink on it. Her hair is down and in waves hangin’ over her shoulders. She smiles at me when she catches me lookin’.
I get out of the truck, and she jumps into my arms and gives me a hug. I was
n’t quite expectin’ that, but I’ll take it. She feels good in my arms. And she smells good too.
“Hi,” she says. She pulls away from me, and I watch her make her way over to the passenger’s side of the truck.
“Hi,” I say, standin’ there like a damn opossum in a flashlight beam before I decide I should follow her.
She climbs into the truck and scoots to the middle.
“Hi, I’m Amy,” I hear her say to Big Justin.
Big Justin smiles shyly and mumbles his name—minus the Big part. He’s two years older than us. You’d think he wouldn’t be so damn nervous around her.
I climb into the truck next to Amy. And then she scoots closer to me and doesn’t stop until we’re touchin’. It’s funny, and I don’t think I can really explain it, but I feel safe around Amy. Maybe that’s what fallin’ slowly for someone feels like. I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever fallen fast.
The trip to my house is pretty short. We don’t live too far away from each other. She lives on one side of the city limits; I live on the other. On the way, we mostly talk about how our days went. Big Justin doesn’t say a word. I can’t tell if he’s still nervous or just disinterested in our conversation. And I’m still just gettin’ used to this whole datin’ thing. With Brooke, I didn’t give too much thought to anything; I just did what I felt like doin’. Now, though, I feel as if it’s a whole different ballgame—as if all of a sudden, there are rules. I’m afraid of everything. I’m afraid to say the wrong thing. I’m afraid to scare her away. I’m afraid of Rick Calloway. So, after I pay Big Justin his ten dollars and he drives away, I breathe a sigh of relief just starin’ at the pond. I can’t help but feel within my element here. There’s somethin’ about being this close to water and about fishin’ that calms me.
I spread out a blanket; I figured she might like it better than the grass. Then we both sit down on it, and I help her bate her hook. The pole is really my sister’s, but she won’t notice it’s gone tonight. Amy squeals a little bit when I put the worm on the hook, but she calms down when I put my arms around her to help her cast out her line.