Effortless With You

by Lizzy Charles

  Justin nods down the stairs. “Shall we?” he asks with a proper voice and a joking smile.

  “We shall.” I force myself to stand up straight and play the part. It is the only way I’m getting through this without falling deeply in love. I nod toward the steps and we start descending.

  Mason’s voice echoes behind us as we arrive at the first landing, turning down toward the grand room. “Now Lucy, just imagine a crowd of people. All eyes are on you as you descend gracefully to greet them below.” Justin stifles a laugh as Mason speaks gracefully. I elbow him. “They look at you in awe and you know you are the most beautiful girl in the room,” Mason adds.

  Justin doesn’t say anything this time. He leads me down the stairs. My heart flutters with my arm in his. I need this to end, soon. I lean forward, trying to quicken our pace. Justin feels my cue so, naturally, he goes even slower. He snickers at me when we finally reach the bottom.

  “Beautifully done.” Mason tromps down the stairs behind us. “Now to the exterior.”

  The exterior tour is brief. He points out the wooden trim and siding up high in the window eves. I don’t even try to strain my eyes against the sun to see the spaces. Instead I wander over to the side of the mansion and place my hand on the stone work. Each stone is rugged and cool beneath my touch. I respectfully step away from the mansion.

  “I see you’re in love,” Mason offers. My stomach flips over as I glance at Justin who is shielding his eyes from the sun. Mason smiles at me and nods toward the mansion, “The house has that effect on people.”

  “Yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you for this opportunity. I’ll never forget it.”

  Mason laughs and eyes Justin. I blush. “No one ever does.” He winks at me as he walks away. “Justin. I’ve got to get to work. Can you see yourself around front?”

  “Absolutely. Thanks, Mason.” Justin walks toward me, still shielding his eyes from the sun as he examines the upper windows. I wave goodbye to Mason.

  Justin jots down one last note before shutting the notebook and turning toward me. “So, wasn’t that better than painting?”

  “That was incredible.”

  “I know. I’ve been in love with this place forever. Mason used to let us play lawn games here on the Fourth of July when we were little. I can’t believe I might get the chance to work here. Let’s go grab breakfast. I need to pick your brain.” He hands me the notebook. “Over the research.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to me. “You should check in with your folks. I’ll wait in the car.”

  I slide the screen to unlock his iPhone. He has three missed texts, two from Allison and one from a girl named Hannah. I sigh. It is only nine a.m. Jennifer was right. He doesn’t get a break.

  ***

  We return to the association as the crew’s breakfast break ends. Justin rounds up Troy and shows him the notes. He doesn’t notice me climb into the truck to grab my supplies. I find Alex and get right to work. I immediately find my rhythm, brushing the blue primer over a faded brown.

  The rest of the day is everything I need. It is normal. Troy even manages to keep his distance. Other than Alex’s guidance, Luke is my only interrupter. He begs me to call Laura because she’s going to drag him jeans shopping with her. He swears it’s his living nightmare. He makes sure I dial before he leaves.

  Laura answers on the first ring. “Oh, thank the lawd,” she says with her Southern twang. “I think I was driving Luke crazy. So, are you up for it?”

  I giggle. She obviously forced Luke to make me call her.

  “Absolutely. My wardrobe needs a major overhaul. I need some new stuff.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Sweet. See you then.” The conversation is so different than when I talked to Marissa. Marissa would drag on forever where Laura is sweet and to the point. Maybe Laura and I really can be friends.

  After my team wins another game of basketball, Justin waits for me in the truck while I fill up my water bottle. It feels weird to be in the pool complex again. It was only a few weeks ago when Marissa’s squeal and Zach’s kiss changed my life forever. The pool is peaceful now and empty. I dip my toe in the water. It feels like a cool bath. I look around; the area is deserted. I slip off my shirt and shorts before I run at the pool straight on and jump in.

  The water welcomes me. I surface and watch my waves ruin the pool’s peaceful surface. I dip my head back into the water, smiling as the water cools my scalp. I find myself in the same corner where Marissa and Zach cheated on me. I take a deep breath, finding my breathing free. Good. I need a positive memory to fill this space.

  I pull myself over the edge and get dressed. I walk back to the truck and pull out a few painting rags. I dry my face. Justin is leaning back with his feet on the dashboard as I climb in. I squish into the passenger seat. My backpack’s contents are spread out over the center console. I open my backpack, searching for my essay. It’s gone. I look up at Justin, who holds my crisp white essay on his lap. “Give that back.” I reach over and snatch the essay from his lap. “That wasn’t for you to read.”

  “Then why did you leave it on the seat?” He smiles. “And why are you all wet?”

  “It was hot.” I shrug. “And I didn’t leave my essay on the seat.” The white truck clanks on the way out of the association. I’m surprised they haven’t complained.

  Justin reaches over and touches my wet hair. “You’re weird.” He pulls onto the highway. “So, why the essay?”

  “It’s just something I wanted to fix. That’s all.”

  “Come on, we’re friends. Maybe I can help. Do you have others to do?”

  I sigh, thinking about all the papers, lab reports, and math homework I’d done poorly. I don’t have the time to fix those too. “No. Around Marissa I blew off my school work. Like you said, I was a total droid. I don’t know when I let everything slide.” I flip through my essay. “I found my original essay a few weeks ago after the whole Marissa and Zach thing. It was horrendous, a total eye opener. I knew I needed to fix it. I owed it to Mr. Taden.”

  “Well, this deserves an A. Your format is flawless and your content is original.”

  I shake my head at him. “No. I’m not getting a grade for it.”

  “You’ve been spending your summer writing an essay that you’ll never get a grade on?”

  “No, just last night.”

  Justin rubs his cheeks and smiles. “You’re funny. You know that, right?”

  “Why do you keep saying that?” I need to know what exactly I’m doing that he enjoys so much. I want to do it more.

  “I don’t know. You just are.”

  “Great.” I roll my eyes playfully to make him laugh. He does and my cheeks warm. I look out the window. If we’re going to be friends, I have to get control.

  Justin offers to drive me to school so I can drop off the essay while he checks on some basketball business. We walk into the school together. It’s weird to be at his side, where I’ve seen Jennifer walk across this parking lot with him so often. I had no idea I’d paid such close attention to Justin Marshall back then. As Justin and I walk up the stairs to the school’s entrance, it’s almost creepy how much detail I remember about them together. Where he put his hand on Jennifer’s waist. How his backpack always fell over his left shoulder. Seriously, I used to loath him, believing him to be such an egomaniac.

  But, as the detailed memories flood me, I realize my heart knew the truth of what he would be to me, even then.

  I nod toward the direction of the office, stepping away from Justin’s side. He waves, before heading down toward the athletic office. He leaves a sense of loss in his place. I hate how complete I feel with him near. It’s not fair. I need to suck it up, learn to feel good and whole in myself. I can’t depend on Justin for that or I’ll never heal. I refuse to live a half life.

  It’s odd walking through the school when it’s empty. My footsteps echo off the bareness. The hallways look gi
gantic without the student posters plastering the walls. I duck into the office without notice. The administrative assistants are chatting at the copier about some barbecue. I grab a blue post-it note off the front desk and jot down a message for Mr. Taden.

  Mr. Taden, I’m sorry this is late. Please don’t grade it. I just want you to know that I got your note and you were right. My first try sucked. Hopefully, this one is more satisfactory. Enjoy your summer. I’ll see you this fall. ~Lucy Zwindler

  Mr. Taden’s mailbox is overflowing with flyers and notes. I flatten the pile and shove my rolled up essay and note into the corner. My essay will probably get lost in this mix anyway. I glare at his mailbox feeling oddly defeated. I sigh. It doesn’t matter. It isn’t the mailbox’s fault. I should have written my essay right the first time.

  I step out of the office. Time to find Justin. I glance down the corridor, past the cafeteria toward the gym. I’d avoided this route all last year. I hated how the janitor closet reminded me how much of a loser I was. Of how much the senior girls hated me for taking the most popular girl’s starting position on the varsity basketball team. Of how the pain from the injuries they inflicted was easier to cope with than the pain inside.

  It got to the point where being thrown into a locker was pleasant in comparison to hiding from them, with my feet up, in the bathroom stalls.

  That’s when I lost myself.

  I pause as I pass the closet. I ate so many lunches there, with so many chemicals. I pull on the latch, it clicks and the door swings open. I wave my hand above my head in the darkness. Grasping the cord I always depended on. Light.

  A red bucket is stacked meticulously in the corner. My bucket, my throne of loser-dom. There’s a new open space on the shelf to the right. I lean down. Pencil markings are lightly written on the wood. I suck. I hate this life.

  Not my handwriting.

  I take a step back, alarmed that this is someone else’s closet now. I notice a small pillow jammed under the box of rags. Smart, good for quick naps to save yourself from the nightmare-ish sleep the bullying from school inflicts.

  I click off the light, pulling the door closed. Giving this person their space. Respect of whatever they endured last year. As the door latches shut, I make a promise. No matter what, I’ll pull this kid out of this closest and be their friend next year. Not like Marissa did though. I’ll help them find their way, their own feet. And I’ll stick up for them. Hell, I bet with Jennifer and Justin’s help, we may actually be able to change the bullying dynamics of this school. Maybe. Hopefully.

  This type of world shouldn’t exist.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Lucy!” Justin’s voice carries down the hall. My heart melts when he calls my name. His gorgeousness waits, smoldering and perfect. Totally out of my league. I can’t help but gaze into his eyes as I walk toward him. I could live forever there.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “Yup. It’s dropped off.”

  “Great.” He folds up a piece of paper and shoves it in his back pocket. We turn at the same time, accidently bumping pinkies and brushing arms as we walk toward the front door. My face heats as my pinky burns. Crap. Please don’t notice my flush. Or the way my heart is galloping out of control.

  This being friends thing is going to be so hard.

  But it’s worth it. Any part of Justin is worth this restraint. I can’t have it all, but it’s better than no relationship at all.

  “I called your Dad,” Justin says as we reach the truck. “Checking in, being polite after all the crap that went down this weekend, ya know?”

  “Thanks.” I climb in, thankful I don’t have to make that phone call. I need a break from the constant questions.

  “So,” Justin says as he turns the ignition. “I kind of asked him permission to take you out …”

  Out?

  “As friends, of course,” he rushes to clarify.

  I nod with a smile, of course. Of course. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  My heart tickles, such a perfect response. He has no idea he’s sweeping me off my feet. No idea what power he has.

  “Of course it is.” I try to sound collected, even a bit annoyed. I glance down at my running shorts and tank top. “Can we swing by my house so I can at least change?”

  “Nope, what you’re wearing is perfect for what I’ve got in mind.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “We’re going running?”

  His smile spreads and he winks back. “You’ll see.”

  A fire ignites in my heart. I’ll never be able to get enough of that smile and jaw. … He’s just so freakin’ hot. Everything in me burns for him. What I wouldn’t do just to hold his hand. God, why can’t he feel that way about me?

  His phone buzzes, another text. Justin glances at the screen. “Ah, Allison,” he says with a light smile.

  Right. That’s why.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  A white banner hangs between two trees above the entrance to the beach. Triathlon for Champs. A triathlon? He’s got to be kidding me. There’s no way I’m in good enough shape to run, swim and bike. I’d maybe be able to handle the running portion. Maybe.

  Please, don’t let this be his big surprise.

  Justin leads toward an empty table under a blue canopy where a few older women are unloading boxes. “Kate, guess who?” Justin says as he climbs over the table, tapping her on the arm.

  She squeals, taking Justin in a perfect grandma hug. Justin kisses her white curls. “I’m so happy to see you again!” He waves me over. I walk around the table with a smile. “Lucy, this is Kate, from the Children’s Leukemia Research Society. Back in the day, she was our designated comforter during Jackson’s battle.”

  I reach out to shake Kate’s small hand, but she pulls me into a hug. “Any friend of Justin’s is a friend of mine,” she says with a grin.

  “Fourteen years ago, Kate started volunteering to help families deal with the loss of a child who fought leukemia. She’s held the hands of hundreds while they deal with the loss of a child to leukemia.”

  Kate beams at Justin, light blue eyes sparkling, full of life. “Oh hush.” She squeezes my hands, “Ready to help?”

  “Sure. What can I do?”

  “I’ve got forty-five minutes before the kids show up for the beach triathlon.” She hands me a three-ringed binder. “Arrange the numbers over here with the registration book. Justin,” she pushes him toward the box. “Get those stakes in the water and set up two one-hundred-foot courses. One at three feet deep, the other at five. Then everyone can participate in the fun.”

  She busies herself, emptying t-shirts out of boxes. “Justin? When you’re done, there’re water bottles and certificates in the car.” She shouts at him while he walks down the beach, stripping his shirt away before hitting the water.

  I bite my lip, my eyes lingering over the chiseled muscles of his back. Holy crap.

  Kate nudges me and laughs, “Is that what’s going on here?”

  “No.” I flip the three-ringed binder open. “We’re just friends.”

  She clucks to herself, “I’ve been throwing this triathlon with Justin since he was fifteen and he’s never brought a girl along before.” She starts folding blue t-shirts and placing them on the table next to me. “His guy friends, sure. They’ve been helping out for a few years. But a girl … This is new.” She opens a box of tiny baby-sized shirts. Babies with leukemia? This world is not fair.

  “I actually work with Justin, we play basketball too.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  I bite my tongue, trying to keep my face steady as I arrange the numbers in front of me.

  I’m the first girl he’s ever brought here. Is he letting me in?

  But he brings his guy friends all the time. So, no. He’s treating me like he treats his friends. Nothing special. I’m just one of the guys.

  That sucks. I hate being one of the guys.

  When I finish the numbers, Kate
puts me to work setting up the start line as she greets the other volunteers with Justin. The families and children arrive as I place the last cone in the sand. Parents herd their children toward the beach, always having at least one child paler than the others who wears a cap or bandana to protect their bald head from the sun. Every kid runs to Kate, giving her a hug, as she pins their number to their swimsuit.

  A pale girl in yellow bike shorts and a matching yellow swim suit tugs on my hand. “Can we start now?”

  “Soon.” I smile back. Her grin is loose, exposing a missing bottom tooth.

  “I want to start with running. I’m the fastest. I swear!” She squeezes my hand tight.

  “Right on! I’ll be watching you.”

  “Will you be my bike?”

  “Be your bike?”

  “You know, like Justin does sometimes?”

  I glance at Justin, who’s swarmed with little boys. “Um, sure. Why not?”

  Soon other hands are tugging at my arm. More little girls. Adorable swim suits with faces brighter than the dawn. Older girls too, gather near me. The eldest is in total tween mode. She’s daring, wearing a cute bikini that shows off an athletic form. She grabs some girls for some cartwheels. A gymnast maybe? Her bandana falls off, but she doesn’t care. She just shoves it into her running shorts and winks at me. “It’s going to come off when I swim anyway.”

  “True. Smart thinking,” I say as I try to hold in my real reaction. Holy crap. Brave.

  A whistle blows and everyone joins us at the starting line. Kate grabs a megaphone. “Welcome to the annual Twin Cities Triathlon for Champs,” she bellows. All the children cheer while the parents and volunteers holler and whoop, amping up the excitement. I cup my hands around my mouth and join the noises.

  Kate begins with the rules, there will be two groups. Six plus will start first. A few minutes later, five and below will join. Designated parents and volunteers are to take their positions with the kids at the starting line. Everyone’s involved here.