by B. R. Myers
I could run again.
Voices coming up the stairs brought me out of my trance. I logged off the computer and went to the door. When I heard Lacey, I held back, hoping to duck out without having to talk to her.
“You said you would talk to Susan,” she said.
“She told me it couldn’t hurt to make a few calls…considering the circumstances.”
“So?” she asked. “Did you call?”
“Yeah, I left a message.”
Lacy squealed, “Yes! Thank you, Kirk!”
I walked out the door. They were in an embrace—how nice.
Lacey looked over his shoulder. “Jazzy?” she said.
“Hey,” Kirk stammered, stepping out of the hug.
“I was sending an email,” I said. My upper lip stuck to my top teeth. Three of us stared at each other. Finally, I darted past them and jogged down the steps. If there ever was a time I wished I was wearing my runners, it was now.
Boyfriend, my ass. I reminded myself never to take the word of a twelve-year-old as the truth. I dared to turn around, but no one was following me. Kirk, it seemed, was content to let me go this time.
I stopped beside a hedge looming way over my height, black and concealing in the dark. I crouched down in the shadows and hugged my knees.
Soon the tears came. I wiggled closer to the hedge, trying to disappear. There was no way I was walking across the lawn like this. I made sure to stay quiet—easy for someone who’s had a lot of practice hiding grief. I curled up, letting my forehead rest on my knees.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
The guy’s voice was close. A few branches rustled behind me. Someone was in the darkness of the hedge. Everything went numb…this was no prank.
Mom always told me that intuition was a powerful thing, and I should never ignore what my gut, regardless of whether it would hurt someone’s feelings.
“You don’t see the rabbits making polite small talk when the fox is in the forest,” she would say. “They get the hell out of there, and you should too.”
Except my rabbit legs were stuck to the spot.
“I was afraid you weren’t going to show up,” he said, a little clearer this time.
Devin?
Was this some kind of creepy revenge? I filled up my lungs to let out the biggest scream. Another voice made me choke on the spot.
“I had to wait for my counsellor to fall asleep,” she whispered.
The mental light bulb above my head turned on. This was a lovers’ rendezvous, except I was in the middle of it. Squinting into the hedge, I could barely make out their silhouettes through the branches. There was an open space inside, like a tiny room.
This must be the “special place” he had been going to show me. The whispering continued and I leaned closer. They were totally clueless I was so close. I could have walked away undetected.
But I didn’t.
Maybe it was the fact my diary had been read out loud in front of everyone, or maybe I felt Devin had unfairly labelled me as a bitch, never accepting my apology. But I reasoned away the eavesdropping as a combination revenge and reward for my own embarrassment, plus all the other crap I’d been dealt.
“I want to give you something,” Devin said. “Look up at the sky through the hole in the branches.”
She giggled. “What am I looking for?” she asked.
“The prettiest star.”
Again, a few more giggles. “Um…that one,” she finally decided. “It’s all twinkly.”
“From now on, it’s yours. Every time I see that star, I’ll see you.”
And me too, apparently.
It worked better than Taylor Swift tickets. When the kissing started, my tonsils cringed. I really should get the hell out of here, fox or no fox.
“Wow,” she breathed. “No one has ever kissed me like that before.”
“I can’t believe someone as pretty as you doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
More giggles. “Well, the boys aren’t as cute as you at my school,” she said. “Besides, I’m only fifteen.”
Ah, fifteen. My first provincial record.
“So am I,” he said.
What?! I almost tumbled into the shrub.
“You look older,” she said.
Devin laughed. “I’m big, like all my brothers,” he said. “I’m going into grade ten in September.”
Devin was only fifteen? I put a hand across my stomach—I thought I was going to puke. I had been touching tongues with a kid. Okay, not really a kid, but close enough. Everything felt backwards. I wished I could hit the rewind button back to that first night during the fireworks. I never would have flirted with Devin if I’d known how young he was.
A sense of failure replaced my shock. I was supposed to be making memories this summer. Instead I was sitting on the damp evening grass, wishing to erase them. A hopeless exhaustion settled in my bones.
When their making out started again, I slunk away like the guilty peeper I was. Walking back to the cabin in a daze, I replayed all my times with Devin. It made sense now. How his team won the soccer game. How he never came to the lounge or went to the counsellor activities. It’s because he was too young to be a counsellor, plus all his talk about still growing, and his immature attitude.
I was so stupid.
This was the dingleberry cherry on my totally craptastic day. I was prepared to go through my window to avoid the boys, but someone was waiting on the steps for me.
“Are you all right?” Lewis asked.
I dabbed my nose with my sleeve. “Why are you here?”
“Nice to see you too.” He held out a plate of cookies. “I noticed you hardly ate any meatloaf, which was amazing by the way.”
“Sorry. No appetite.”
“Chocolate chip,” he said, holding up the plate.
I took a cookie. It was still warm. “You didn’t put raisins in them, did you?”
“Never.”
I sat down beside him and finished it in two bites.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, reaching for the plate again.
Lewis nudged me with his shoulder. “My cookies aren’t supposed to make you cry.”
In between more cookies and a few tears, I told him about my whole day, ending with the embarrassing Devin episode.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “Devin knew you were seventeen.”
“Eighteen in September,” I said. “Oh god, that makes it worse. Almost three years! Why didn’t he say anything? Even when he knew I assumed he was an older counsellor?”
Lewis gave me a look. “Why do you think?”
I brushed the last of the crumbs from my hands. “You know what I’ve learned?” I told him. “That it’s better not to care about anything.”
“Why is that better?”
“Because you’re never disappointed and you never get hurt.”
Lewis shook his head. “Then you’ll never feel any love either. No one is an island, Jesse.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I snapped. “Life sucks, okay. I just want someone to agree with me.”
Lewis put the plate down, and got quiet. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, lightly folding his hands. We both stared into the darkness. “I tried to keep it a secret, you know,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I was going to wait until I’d finished high school to come out.” I turned to him, but he kept staring straight ahead.
“I had a big speech ready for my parents, too. I was going to start by telling them that I’d been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour. Then once they were crying and hugging me, I’d tell them that I was lying about dying, and not to worry, it turns out I’m only gay.”
I laughed a bit, but he ignored me.
“So, last year, a new guy transfers to my school. He was cute, smart, laughed at everything I said, and ended up being my lab partner. At first, I’m kind of hesitant around him because there really is no such thing as gaydar. You might think a guy likes you, but believe me, you can’t ever make that mistake, especially in high school.”
He swallowed a few times, and I noticed his knuckles began to turn white. “Still, we hung out with the same crowd, he dated a few girls, and I secretly crushed on him. Pathetic, huh?” He didn’t wait for me to answer and kept telling his story. “Then one day, we had to stay late to work on a project, it was just the two of us in the class. It happened so fast, I was reaching across the table for a pen and then he was kissing me.”
“Holy crap!” I squealed. “I guess his gaydar was working. What did you do?”
“I kissed him back, of course.”
I started to laugh and my eyes fell on his Saint Anthony medallion.
“I was stupid,” Lewis said. “What the hell was I thinking? We were at school, anyone could have walked in on us. But shit, Jesse, it felt so good. I don’t just mean the kiss, I mean to finally be doing something that felt right—something that didn’t feel like a lie.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, more to myself than him. Lewis didn’t even know my dad had died, let alone how.
Lewis grew quiet again. “Then someone walked in on us. He broke off the kiss, looked back and forth between me and the teacher. I could tell he was scared, I thought he was going to cry. Then punched me in the face.”
My sharp intake of breath didn’t even faze him. Lewis continued, still steady and monotoned. “The teacher had to pick him off. I was lucky, though; my broken glasses didn’t get into my eyes, and a splint straightened out my nose,” he paused and cleared his throat. “No inoperable brain tumour though, to soften the blow for my parents. The teacher tried to keep things quiet, but it wasn’t long before everyone knew. No matter how many layers of lies you tell, somehow, the truth always surfaces.”
My insides knotted together. Lewis finally turned to me. His face said it all. “He switched schools, I never saw him again. My parents wanted to press charges but I just wanted it to all disappear, like it’d never happened.”
“What did you do?” I stammered. “I mean, how could you stand everyone talking about you behind your back, and staring at you?”
“You just have to go through each sucky day, hoping the next one won’t be so sucky.”
I chewed on that thought. “But your Saint Anthony medallion?” I said, hoping for a happy ending.
Lewis tucked the necklace back into his shirt. “It’s from my grandmother,” he said. “I’ve had it since I was a kid.” He read my confused expression. “It’s my new version of the inoperable brain tumour story.”
All the air left my lungs. I leaned in close to Lewis and rested my head on his shoulder. He put an arm around my waist and sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “Life sucks.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Thanks for being here.”
“You too.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Are you still upset?”
I gave him an obvious look. “Nothing that tops your story.”
“Come on,” his voice was lighter now, almost playful. “I dished my dirty secrets, now it’s your turn.”
There was no way I was telling him the secret. He gave me an encouraging nudge. I figured I might as well try to entertain him. “The only guy who’s shown any interest in me is underage,” I said.
“He’s not underage, and he’s not the only guy.”
“The eel doesn’t count,” I said.
He wasn’t letting me off that easy. “The first dance is later this week,” he smiled.
“Big whoop.”
“You should go.”
“Lacey said the boys think I’m…” I paused, searching for the best word. “Too macho and sporty.”
“Lacey,” he snorted. “She’s all Dolce and no Gabbana. She’s not the total package, like you.”
I scrunched up my face. “I’m a total package?”
“Yeah.” Lewis laughed at my expression. “Cute and funny, with lots of guts.”
“You mean gumption?”
“Definite gumption.” He patted my back. “Now get inside before some predator comes along.”
I sat on my bed looking at the duffel bag still jammed into the corner from the first day. After a few minutes, I jumped up and unzipped the side pocket.
My runners. My identity.
I slipped them on, and I had to stifle a laugh. The purple stripe on the side matched my soccer shirt. Lewis was right, it finally felt like I was doing something right.
That night, with a belly full of cookies, I slept with my sneakers on.
TWENTY-ONE
It’s funny how you get used to something and only notice how much it impacted your life when it’s gone. That knot in my stomach had loosened, letting me breathe. I changed into my running shorts and racing tank top.
During breakfast, I told Spencer to meet me at the dock for his first water safety lesson. I was finally making good on my threat from talent show night. I could almost see the gears turning inside his head, coming up with a plan to sabotage the day.
When I walked down the grassy slope, Lacey was standing on the dock.
“Have you seen Spencer?” I asked.
“Oh, right. He mentioned something about catching up on water safety lessons to one of my girls. I’ll stick around and help you,” she said. Then she looked at my bracelet. “My girls are so sweet. Don’t you wish you had them?”
I ignored her jab at insinuating I couldn’t handle Spencer. Is that why she was here? Still, I decided to get some answers on another topic I was wondering about. “It must seem like a long summer,” I said, “without your boyfriend around.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Sorry.” I heard my voice catch. “I just assumed.”
“But that may change soon,” she grinned, looking out at the lake.
I followed her gaze and saw Kirk coming out of the water, carrying his mask and snorkel. I looked away; those damn swimming trunks were driving me crazy. It was time to get in the starting block.
I imagined myself staring down the lane toward the finish line, and I felt the familiar surge of adrenaline. Look out, I thought, Old Jesse, the bulldog, is back.
“Here I am,” Spencer said, running towards us.
“Great!” I smiled. “I’m anxious to get started.”
Lacey wagged her finger in his face. “No fooling around today. I’m here to make sure you get in the water.”
“He’s not getting in the water,” I said.
“What?” The look of shock on her face was priceless. “You said he’s supposed to have a lesson with you this morning.”
“Yup, we’re going running.” I caught Kirk’s eye and gave him a wave.
Then I left the dock with a saucy sashay and took Spencer on his first run.
We had completed a light jog through the hiking trail and were now sprint training in the soccer field. I had to admit, he was much better than I anticipated. “Have you ever done track at school?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m mostly in detention.”
“Any other sports?”
“I started a bunch, but the practices were boring, and most of the other kids were dickheads.”
“Oh.” Not a very shocking response, considering I was, after all, speaking with the kid who had read my diary in front of the whole camp.
“Same time tomorrow,” I told him after that first run. He groaned, and I pulled out my ace. “Or Alicia can do water safety with you all day for the rest of the week?”
“I’ll run.”
The next day we were up at five-thirty to have a quick snack that Lewis had prepared the night befo
re, a hard-boiled egg and a banana. Then we were running on the trail five minutes later.
“You know you’re running at the right speed for a long distance when you’re able to talk without getting winded,” I said.
“So?”
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked.
“Going back to bed.”
“You’ll feel awake in a few minutes.”
A few more steps in silence. “My feet hurt,” he whined.
“Maybe it’s your shoes. Those are more like basketball sneakers.”
“Well, your pair aren’t so great either,” he said, looking at my feet. “You must have a dog.”
I stared at the path straight ahead and took a few breaths. “They’re my lucky pair,” I finally said.
The unlucky ones got thrown out.
“I can still run fast, though,” he bragged. “I bet I could fly with better sneakers.”
I smiled. “‘I decided I wasn’t going to come down. I was going to fly. I was going to stay up in the air forever.’”
“Huh?”
“It’s a Jesse Owens quote,” I said. “That’s how it felt for him right after one of his record-breaking leaps in a long-jump competition. A few years ago Adidas made these special sneakers with a little golden wing on the side to mark his Olympic success.” I remembered begging my parents for a pair.
“Why aren’t you wearing them now?”
“Way too expensive. Besides I wouldn’t dare run in them, they’d be too special.”
“That’s pointless. What would you do with them? Wear them to bed?”
“Um…that’s stupid. Anyway, I bet if you had runners on, you’d almost beat me.”
My compliment surprised him into silence. Finally, he asked, “Which kind are the best?”
This question stimulated a five-minute monologue from me about sneakers. But he did ask.
“My dad can get me a pair,” he said, after my lecture on proper equipment.
“When will you be talking to him?”
Spencer stammered. “He—he just takes emails. I mean, that’s the best way to reach him.”
I let this sink in. “Doesn’t he come and visit? He owns the camp, right?”