Adrenaline Crush

by Laurie Boyle Crompton

  Dead hero. Me

  Just heard dad say they should kick me out. Harley

  I heard too. Sucks for you. Me

  Thanks a bunch. Harley

  Sorry. Me

  A text from Jay makes my phone buzz again.

  I was too afraid to drive stoned. I’m parked around the corner. What’s going on?

  Mister Responsible.

  Do NOT come back here. Me

  Not EVER? Jay

  No Silly. They’re mostly pissed at Harley. Me

  I hope he doesn’t try to blame the joint on me. Jay

  He wouldn’t do that. Me

  Sorry. I’m glad Harley and I are cool. Jay

  R U sure they won’t believe it was jays joint? Harley

  I hear the message machine beep on in the living room and Miss’s recorded voice streams up through the heating vent. With a jolt I scamper awkwardly down the stairs to stop my parents from listening to the whole message. I arrive too late, and Mom and Dad turn to look at me standing in the middle of the living room just as the recording ends. All at once I’m seeing them the way the rest of the world must see them. As a scary-looking couple covered in tattoos who may or may not be about to rip my head off. Instinctively, I fake a pain in my leg and fall to the couch, hoping to elicit some pity from Mom.

  “Dyna, we need to talk.” I can tell from her tone that pity is not the emotion she’s feeling. At all.

  Dad calls for Harley to come down, and he joins me on the couch.

  We both keep our heads down.

  Harley’s punishment is that he is simultaneously kicked out and grounded. Actually, he’s given one month to figure out some sort of plan before he has to move out, but in the meantime he’s stuck at home when he’s not working.

  “Everything makes sense now,” Dad says to him gruffly. “Explains why you’ve been acting more and more like a damn pothead. Because you are a damn pothead. I’m very disappointed in you, son.”

  Harley has never looked more sober.

  “And you, little miss.” Dad turns to me and I try to explain that I wasn’t smoking.

  He cuts me off. “I know it was Harley’s weed. I still want to ban you from ever seeing Whitebread again.”

  I tense my shoulders at the thought. “You can’t—”

  “But…” Dad says. Oh, how I love the sound of that “but.” “Your mom is convinced he’s worth another chance.”

  “Let Jay know he’s on notice,” Mom says sharply. “Clearly, I need to get more involved in your life. Did you even start looking over your homeschool lessons yet?”

  My chin rests on my chest. “No.”

  Mom’s words press together. “And I can’t believe you just stopped going to therapy.”

  I cringe. “Please, Mom. You can’t make me go back there.”

  “Can. Too.” She gives me a steady gaze that tells me Ulysses is happening.

  So now I’ll have to go back and face all the people I’ve been letting down. I just hope Pierce has forgotten about that kiss, because despite everything, when I close my eyes

  I can still feel it.

  17

  When Jay and I lean across the seat to kiss goodbye that Tuesday morning, I swing my eyes to the windshield just in time to see Pierce move into view. He’s watching us. Shit.

  Jay insisted on driving me since school starts tomorrow and he won’t be able to drop me off anymore. He did manage to change his free period so he can pick me up on days he doesn’t have newspaper. He tips his chin toward Pierce when he sees him.

  “You can let your friend know he’s off the hook,” Jay says, and my blood begins to rush. “I scored an interview with a woman in town who gave birth after surviving cancer in one of her ovaries.”

  “That’s great,” I croak drily.

  “It’s not exactly the war hero story I wanted, but a miracle baby is something I can definitely work with.”

  I slink out of the car and head toward the deck, careful not to catch up to the one-legged boy who must loathe me by now.

  When Jay showed up at my house this morning at nine-thirty, my dad and I were sitting at the kitchen table together in silence. Dad was sketching a wicked heart tattoo, and I was getting overwhelmed reading through my homeschooling assignments. It’s one thing to take high school one dreary day at a time. It is something else entirely to see a year’s worth of work as one massive, impossible mountain. It didn’t help that Dad never even asked if I wanted eggs for breakfast. And I really did.

  Jay walked in the door, apology first, and Dad surprised me by acting civilized toward him. “Maybe I underestimated you,” Dad said. “It took guts to come back here and face me head-on after what happened.”

  Jay looked at me as if to ask, “Should I be afraid?”

  I shook my head no. It seems my boyfriend has finally displayed sufficient backbone and character, not to mention balls, to earn my father’s respect.

  I slowly climb the stairway toward my moment of dread and remember that first meeting when I could barely make it to the top. It’s a little more of a struggle than it was the last time I was here. Still, I run out of steps too soon and stand leaning against my cane in front of the group. Miss and Frank are the only ones willing to make eye contact.

  Clearing my throat, I squeak, “So, what did I miss?”

  Even Frank looks away. I slump into the last free chair between Pierce and Miss, drop my cane to the floor, and stare at my knees. I wonder if they’ve kept an empty chair in the circle this whole time.

  Miss welcomes me back stiffly and has the group launch into a recap. I’m surprised by how much I’ve missed. Besides Frank’s victorious Van Driving Odyssey, he’s scheduled for a big speaking gig at New Paltz High School warning about the dangers of texting and driving.

  “I’m nervous, but excited,” he says.

  Sparky reassures him he’s going to kill it and goes on to report that his arms are getting much stronger. He even managed to plant some late-season spinach and radishes over the weekend. Polly sounds like she’s finally over her ex and enjoying being single for the first time since she hit puberty.

  I get the sense that the group has grown past me. Especially when Miss announces that Pierce got a new prosthetic attachment so he can start running.

  “He plans to enter this year’s Turkey Trot 5K,” she says proudly. I turn toward him in amazement.

  He won’t look at me.

  Rita pushes her braids back and gives a loud sigh. “Well, I suppose it’s time.”

  Her tone is grave, and I figure she’s about to start harping about

  Badass Bitch Power or our Lord Jesus Christ or something.

  But she only wants to

  let us know she

  has cancer with a capital C and she is

  sorry she kept it a secret and the

  prognosis is bad although she’s okay with the fact

  that she’s dying.

  My mouth goes dry and I look to Pierce. He’s nodding sadly. He already knew. Based on reactions I can see this is news for the rest of the group. That is, aside from Miss, who looks more proud of Rita than upset.

  “I beat breast cancer when I was younger,” Rita says. “Bet you all wondered why I’ve got such perky ta-tas for an old-timer.” She juts out her chest. “They’re falsies.” We remain mute and she goes on, “I almost died thirty years ago. A huge chunk of my life has been bonus time.” She looks around slowly. “I cannot be anything but grateful.”

  At this, Polly lunges to kneel in front of her, puts her face in the older woman’s lap, and hugs her around the waist. “There, now.” Rita strokes Polly’s smooth hair. “I’m not dying today.” Frank releases tears as big as my fist and Sparky rubs his arms, his usually serene face imprinted with sorrow.

  Rita’s not getting chemo since the cancer’s too far along in her pancreas. She doesn’t want to spend her final months bald and in agony and in a hospital bed. She reaches down, gently tips Polly’s face up, and looks her in the eye.
“I’m planning to stretch things out a bit.” Rita winks. “The doctors are giving me until mid-winter, but you bitches better believe I’ll be here to watch spring unfold.”

  I can’t even begin to process the thought of Rita dying of cancer. My heart clenches at how frail she looks all of a sudden.

  “I’ve had such a blessed life,” she says. “I know where I’m going and it’s a wondrous place. I am not afraid.”

  The next half hour drags by more slowly than my whole first day did, as we’re each encouraged to unpack our unbearable feelings about Rita’s horrible news.

  Pierce is careful not to look at me the whole time, which is better than him hopping up and confronting me. So I return the favor of silence when we all move darkly to physical therapy. He and I do our stretches side by side without a word or touch. Workout Barbie doesn’t interfere and only Rita glances our way once or twice.

  When we climb on the exercise bikes, I’m surprised at how much my time away has set me back. I halfheartedly pedal along with my ankle brace, but my pace and breathing are all off and I need to keep stopping. When my foot slips and the pedal bangs my shin I curse under my breath.

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch Pierce smiling slightly at that as he pedals smoothly along.

  And I feel how much riding an exercycle

  is really just making wheels spin.

  “Argh!” I fling Romeo and Juliet onto the floor. Jay is sitting beside me on the couch and looks up from his tablet.

  “Trouble with the Bard?” He smiles.

  “I doth need a friggin’ break.” We’ve been doing schoolwork for the past few hours, and even though we’re only a week into it I’m already starting to fall behind. Skipping “just one subject” each day adds up fast. I reach over and pinch Jay’s ear playfully. “Want to go for a walk?”

  I’ve been trying to exercise more, and I got the green light to switch up Son of Frankenfoot with an Ace bandage and cane whenever I feel comfortable.

  Jay glances out the window and wrinkles his nose. “It’s getting dark.”

  “I miss being in the woods. Under the stars…”

  His face lights up. “I have just the thing.” He taps at the screen of his tablet for a moment and then holds it up toward the ceiling with the display facing us. “Check out this cool app I found.”

  I’m confused for a second. The screen is black, but it’s speckled with white lights that look like “Stars?” They stay in place as he moves the tablet around and it’s as if he’s holding an X-ray screen that shows the whole wide sky with the stars all around us.

  He grins at my look of amazement and shifts so I can lie back against him. He slowly aims the tablet around the room and the names of various constellations light up.

  “See, there’s Aries.” A white outline of a goat appears, connecting a cluster of stars.

  “I’ve always hated that constellation crap,” I say. “Those stars look nothing like a goat without the drawing.”

  “It’s not a goat, it’s a ram.” Jay laughs. “And that’s part of what’s so cool about it. Someone in ancient times looked up at the stars and saw a ram and managed to convince everyone else to see a ram, too.”

  He slides the tablet around and reads the names of other stars as they appear. “Hey, Naos. Wazzup, Algenib?” And then he zeroes in on stars that are just a series of letters and numbers. “What happened, NGC1039? No love?”

  I laugh as Jay readjusts his angle on the couch. He places the tablet faceup on his chest. “There. Can you see what that says?”

  I lean over the screen, which now shows a large compass rose with arrows pointing to the north, south, east, and west. The long spire that’s pointing directly at Jay’s grinning face reads “True North.”

  I pay him with a kiss. “Okay, that is definitely the sweetest, geekiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I take the tablet and hold it up as I lie back against his chest,

  listening to his strong,

  steady

  heartbeat

  as the two of us gaze at the stars together.

  The temperature drops the following week as summer releases us to mid-September’s hold. Of course, Miss insists we continue to sit outside. She put plastic guards around the bird feeders to stop the squirrels from ransacking them, so Rita has been bringing bread from home to feed them. The squirrels are getting alarmingly fat.

  The topic for today is faith, and when Miss asks Pierce to begin the sharing his blue eyes sweep around to everyone except me. He says he was having a really bad day a couple of weeks ago and went out to sit on the porch where he’s always enjoyed looking at the Catskill Mountains.

  He gestures toward them. “The mountains were completely fogged in that day and I was kind of pissed. I mean, can’t a guy at least enjoy the view when he’s feeling like shit?” Miss laughs uncomfortably.

  “But here’s what I realized. I knew those mountains were still there. I could sense them standing strong and solid behind the fog.” He looks around, avoiding me again. “And I realized that’s exactly what faith is. Being sure of something, even when we can’t see it.”

  Pierce glances at me for a microsecond and looks away. I feel like he just shot me.

  “Oh, Pierce!” Miss is in ecstasy and Rita and Sparky can’t help but applaud.

  When it’s my turn to share I counter Pierce by explaining how sometimes faith means finding other people we can trust enough to lean on. I describe the ways my boyfriend has been there for me throughout my whole recovery. “I have faith in him,” I say, and Pierce just stares at the air in front of his face the whole time I’m talking.

  Polly tells me I’m nuts and makes an inspiring declaration about having faith in herself. “I know who I am and I don’t need a guy to make me feel complete.”

  Rita flings her arms in the air in victory and kisses Polly on both cheeks, but at least I made my point with Pierce.

  I know I totally wrecked things between us. There’s no way to go back to being friends after a kiss like that. But it’s really important that I remind us both in as many ways and as often as possible that I have a boyfriend.

  Pierce needs to know I’m finished playing with fire.

  Subject closed. New topic.

  18

  The following week my birthday falls on a Tuesday, and despite Jay’s willingness to ditch school to spend the whole day with me, Mom insists I can’t miss another session at Ulysses. Besides, Miss needs to fulfill her eccentric duty by celebrating my special day with a god-awful-sounding drum circle out on the deck. It’s another charming Ulysses “tradition.”

  That evening, Jay gives me a plethora of wildflowers and takes me out for sushi and a romantic comedy. When the movie’s over, he guides me with my cane to a nearby park. The playground is empty and I pump myself higher and higher on the swing until I’m light-headed. Jay recites a sonnet from the top of the jungle gym before taking me up the stairs of the elaborate wooden castle. He asks me to wait at the top while he runs to his car for something.

  I grin when he comes back carrying a gift bag bursting with heaps of tissue paper. Stopping on the ground directly below me, he places his hand on his heart and calls up, “‘O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!’”

  “No more Shakespeare on my birthday,” I yell down. “I want something original.”

  Laughing, he bounds up the stairs to me and holds out the gift bag. “Many trees gave their lives for this dazzling presentation.”

  “Lovely.” I feel my smile widen.

  Jay leans against the railing and pulls me to sit on the ledge beneath him. Clawing at the colorful paper, I uncover a chubby rainbow teddy bear with hearts for eyes.

  “I know it’s cheesy, but I saw him in Manny’s front window and I couldn’t resist,” he says. Giving the bear a hug, I reach up to make it caress Jay’s cheek until he laughs and leans down to kiss me.

  Next I pull out a cover for my phone with the image of a star-filled sky on the back of it. “Since your p
hone is too ancient to get the stargazing app.”

  “Hey, I like my old phone.” I smile as I look at the phone case. “This is seriously sweet. And I love that some couples may have a special song, but we have a geeky app.”

  “It will always be our app,” Jay says.

  Next I unwrap a retro silver bicycle bell that he attaches to my cane for me. “To get those rotten kids out of your way.” I laugh as he pulls out my final gift and hands it to me. “And this is for after you get around to finishing Romeo and Juliet.” It’s a hardcover illustrated copy of Krakauer’s book Into Thin Air. “This one’s about a group of climbers who get stuck in a storm on Mount Everest.”

  “Wow, cool,” I say, opening it to flip through the thick pages.

  “Eight of them die.”

  I look at him. “Well, thanks for giving away the ending.”

  He chuckles. “Krakauer tells you that from the start. But it’s amazing how quickly things can turn deadly when people don’t respect nature’s power. I mean, why would anyone even consider a crazy climb like that? I don’t get it”

  I stop at a full-page photo of Everest and trace my fingers over the craggy peak. The highest point on earth. “I do,” I whisper.

  “What?” Jay asks.

  I smile and hold up the book. “Thank you. I love everything.”

  “Happy birthday, Dyna.” He squeezes me. “Hope you don’t mind that I didn’t get you jewelry. I know you don’t like wearing it.”

  “You got me there.” I grin. “And anyway, wouldn’t jewelry imply it’s time for me to start putting out?”

  Jay feigns shock and covers his mouth. “Dyna. What would make you think I’m ready to have sex with you?”

  “We’ve been dating for almost three months.” I stand, turn toward him, and give him the most luscious, seductive, tender kiss I can.

  When I pull back Jay’s eyes stay closed and he pretends to almost fall back off the railing. “Is it too late to maybe swing by the jewelry store?”

  I laugh. “Nice try.” We look into each other’s eyes and I add, “Maybe soon.”