because it was so good
the first time.
But while my world
is momentarily
happy and dreamlike,
Cade’s seems to be
gray and gloomy.
Why is it
that every time
I feel like
we’re getting closer,
something causes him
to slip away?
I promised him fun,
damn it.
“Heads, glitter.
Tails, kite.”
“Glitter?” he asks.
“Have you ever thrown glitter in the air?”
“No.”
“Me neither.
And I want to.
P!nk says we should.”
But when he flips,
it’s tails.
So we’ll buy a kite
and hope the mood
takes off
along with it.
Nine months ago
Dear Amber,
We are grateful to you and your parents for the chance to meet you. I know it wasn’t easy for you.
When we first saw you walk into the attorney’s office, we were so happy to see you! Oh, how I wanted to give you a hug. But I could tell you weren’t ready for that. I hope the thirty-minute meeting showed you our hearts are in the right place.
Our attorney thinks we have a good chance at getting the ruling we desire. We felt it was important for you to hear from us personally, before the judge decides, why we’re doing this. Thank you, Amber. Thank you for that opportunity.
We find it fascinating that you play the drums! If that’s your passion, we’ll make sure you have what you need here, if you come stay with us.
We really can’t wait to get to know more about you.
Take care, honey.
Love,
Jeanie and Allen
in the moment
Music
can change the
mood in a
drumbeat.
So I search
Cade’s CDs again
for something good.
Finally I turn to
Matt Nathanson
who sings about
happy times
of love and lust.
I roll down my window.
Take a whiff of the salty air.
And hold myself back
from asking questions
that will drop us down
into a deep conversation.
As Cade drives
along the scenic highway,
we let the ocean
do the talking.
We let Matt
do the singing.
And we let ourselves
sit back and simply
listen.
that’s better
At the Kite Company,
Cade says,
“You know what?
This has been a good day.”
“Is it over?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
Puts his arm around me.
Smiles.
Or tries to.
“No. Thank God, no.”
eight arms and a hundred questions
Inside the shop
we see kites
in every shape and color.
“Did you see that movie?”
Cade asks.
This one is easy.
“The Kite Runner?
Yeah. Depressing.”
An orange octopus
swims across
the ceiling.
I imagine the orange
against the sky,
bright and beautiful,
its fabricated tentacles
touching the tips
of the clouds.
I point and tell Cade,
“I want that one.”
“Perfect.”
As I head to the register,
a guy and a girl
come in.
Cade sees them
and tries to hide
among the dragons,
diamonds, and deltas
hanging from racks.
But it’s a small store,
and difficult not to be noticed.
Cade chats with them while I pay.
When I’m done,
Cade introduces me.
“Amber, this is Parker and Emily.
My dad and Parker’s dad are friends.”
I smile.
“Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Parker says.
And just as I’m about
to make a lame comment
about the weather
to keep the conversation going,
Cade says, “Sorry, we gotta run.
Great to see you guys.”
He doesn’t wait for a response.
He’s walking so fast,
he’s practically out
the door by the time
my legs even
start moving.
“Call me!” Parker yells out.
“I’m here for you, man.”
Cade waves and then
we’re back in his car
with an orange octopus
that’s as bright
as my ever-growing
curiosity.
20/20
Hidden, there,
behind the face
of a beautiful boy,
I see you.
The real you.
The you who flips a coin,
hoping to understand
how fate works:
this choice or that choice,
ultimately leaving you
no choice at all.
The you who smiles
and tries to be happy
because that’s what
people want
you to be.
The you who plays
“it will be okay”
on repeat
all day, every day,
to try and convince
yourself
that it will be.
I see you.
Because in you,
I see me.
RSVP
“Are you going back?” he asks me.
For a second, I’m not sure what he means.
“Back where? Home?”
“Yeah. I mean, did you come here
thinking maybe you just wouldn’t go back?”
I told the limo driver
to pick me up
tomorrow at eight a.m.
“I’m going back. I have to.”
“I bet others would say screw it,
and just not go back.”
I shrug. “Yeah. Maybe.”
And that’s all he says.
Wait.
Was that an invitation?
look around
This time,
Agate Beach
is our destination.
“Come on,” I say,
running down the path
toward the sand,
wanting him
to run after me.
And in that moment
I close my eyes
and I wish.
I wish
for the breeze to
blow away
our troubles.
I wish
for the sun to
dry out
our sorrow.
I wish
for the friendship
to fill up
our hearts.
I open my eyes.
Right now I see only good.
I want him to see it too.
release me
The kite flutters
in the wind,
and as Cade
lets the string out,
it soars
higher
and higher.
It’s so calming,
watching the kite
fly in the sky.
And in this calmnessr />
he opens up a little.
He’s a senior
at Wilson High School
in Portland.
Wanted to live here with his dad,
but his mom wouldn’t let him.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” I say.
“That we don’t get a say.
That it doesn’t matter what we want.”
The kite dips,
and as it does,
Cade releases some string,
does a few quick maneuvers
to save it from crashing
to the ground.
It flutters again,
and soon the kite
is dancing with the sun,
back where it belongs.
“Yeah,” he says. “It should matter.”
holding the line
“Are you going back?” I ask him.
Because he asked me.
And maybe
that’s what’s on his mind.
Maybe he’s here,
and he doesn’t want
to go back there.
The kite dips again.
“I don’t know.”
This time he doesn’t save it.
He lets the kite fall.
please try
After an hour
the wind dies down,
so the kite-flying
part of our day is over.
I pull out my phone
and check the clock.
My stomach’s telling me
it’s time to eat something.
I quickly reply to a text
from Madison,
then I’m back
to wondering
what comes next
with Cade.
“Heads, sushi,” I say.
“Tails, Chinese.”
“Well, it better be tails
because I don’t do sushi.”
“You don’t do sushi?
Christ, kill me now!”
I pick up a small stick,
pretend to stab it
into my chest
and drop to the sand
on my back.
I lie there with my eyes closed.
Warm breath on my neck.
Soft shiver down my spine.
Sweet words whispered in my ear.
“But with you, I might try anything.”
worth a shot
I turn,
his face right there.
Warm, brown eyes.
Dimple in his cheek.
Red lips, chapped from the wind.
God, he is adorable.
I want to kiss him.
But I don’t.
Because more than that,
I want to know.
No, I need to know.
Is he okay?
I whisper back,
“Then please tell me what’s going on with you.”
soaking wet
He’s up and
out of there so fast,
you’d think my words
were a cold, wet
ocean
wave.
“Cade, wait!”
I run after him,
the warm sand
gripping my feet
with each step
as if it were trying to tell me
to go slowly,
carefully.
He turns.
“You gave me your word.”
“I’m sorry.
I’m just …
I’m worried about you.
I want to help you.”
“You can’t help me!
No one can help.
Don’t you get it?
There’s nothing anyone can do.
Nothing!”
Then he’s walking away again.
And I follow.
Because I know that feeling—
that goddamn,
son-of-a-bitch,
asshole of a feeling—
better than anyone.
Nine months ago
Dear Jeanie and Allen,
Okay, you want to hear from me?
Here you go.
I can’t believe you are doing this to me. I can’t believe you actually think this is what’s best for me—to know you and to share my life with you.
You aren’t my parents! My parents have raised me and loved me for the past fifteen years, the way you raised and loved your daughter, Charlotte.
I’m sorry she died. I’m sorry! But why am I being punished for that? Why is my whole family being punished?
If you care even a little bit about me, you will drop this. You will let it go—let me go, to live the life I want to live.
Please. I’m begging you.
Let me go.
And leave me alone.
Amber
unexpected
But he doesn’t leave.
He walks down the beach.
I realize his shoes are by my bag,
so he can’t just leave.
I want to help him.
But maybe helping is doing
what we’ve been doing all day.
Hanging out.
Having fun.
Forgetting everything,
except what’s in the moment.
I kick myself.
I should have kissed him
or asked for the penny
or thought of a movie with sushi in it.
Anything besides asking that question.
Anything.
I stop and decide
to give him some time
to get over it.
Please let him get over it.
We’re friends now.
How could I not ask?
I had to ask.
And hopefully he’ll realize that.
As I head back to
where our stuff is,
I hear my name
floating on the breeze
in the distance.
I turn and see her
running toward me.
Madison.
three’s a crowd
After hugs and hellos,
she loops her arm
in mine, and as we walk,
she tells me
about combing each
and every beach in Newport,
until she finally texted me
to get my location.
Her own treasure hunt.
Although, what kind of treasure am I?
“You didn’t have to come,” I say.
“I’m fine.”
“No, cat, you are not fine.
“You came to the beach by yourself!
That is not fine!
That is freaky!”
“Except, I’m not by myself.
Not anymore.”
She doesn’t get it.
I turn and point to Cade.
Her eyebrows creep up
along with the corners
of her mouth.
“So, what other secrets are you hiding?”
She pulls me down
on the sand
where we sit side by side,
passing questions and answers
back and forth like we’re on
a TV game show.
We’re so engrossed,
we don’t notice him
until his shadow falls over us.
“Cade,” I say,
“this is my best friend, Madison.”
“Hey, cat,” Madison says.
“Thanks for taking care of my girl.”
“Cat?” he asks.
“It’s actually Cade.
Rhymes with ‘wade’?”
I laugh.
“No, see, instead of ‘dawg’?
It’s ‘cat’—her thang.”
He crosses his arms and
tries to give her a smile.
“Yeah, well, since you’re here,
looks like my job is done.”
Panic rises up in me
 
; like a seagull taking flight.
Madison is quick
to come to my rescue.
“I’m not staying.
Just needed to make sure she’s okay.
And she is, so I’m outta here.”
“I have something I need to do,” he says.
“Why don’t you go eat?”
He looks at me.
“I’ll meet up with you later.”
There’s a look in his eye
that tells me I shouldn’t argue.
I want to.
But I don’t. We exchange numbers,
and before he goes, I say,
“Heads, you call me.
Tails, you call me.”
His eyes are
little pools of sadness.
“I can’t promise.”
Without thinking,
I reach out and hug him.
I squeeze tighter than he does.
Because I don’t want him to go.
I kiss his cheek.
“Call me,” I whisper.
And then I let him go.
sugar and spies
We get in Madison’s Kia,
and before I can even
get the words out,
she’s reading my mind
like a best friend should.
“We’re following him, right?” she asks.
I reach into my bag.
Jelly beans for dinner.
“Right as raspberry.”
I’m lucky
When we got the news
The Day Before Page 6