“I don’t even know what to say to you right now.” She looked away and out the kitchen window. Her eyes were wide with shock. “I have no words. I’m completely speechless.”
“I didn’t mean to…I just—”
“You lied to me, Alexa,” she said, cutting me off.
“There was no other way. I knew if I told you the truth, you would have said no.”
A hint of red returned to her porcelain white face. “So instead you make me out to be some sort of fool in front of that horrible woman? Do you even realize how embarrassing that was?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry. I really didn’t think she would find out.”
“Well, you thought wrong. How am I supposed to trust you now?”
“Mom, it was just a stupid call on our part.”
“Go to your room. We’ll deal with this when your father comes home.”
***
There was no sign of Carter for the remainder of the weekend. I was sure I wouldn’t be seeing him at school either. My heart twisted in fear at the thought of our friendship being over.
At school, I sat alone on a hill that overlooked the lower field. My gaze was captivated by the chain-link fence and the freeway directly behind it. It hummed and pulsed with the sounds of heavy traffic that helped drone out my negative thoughts.
“Alexa—”
I turned around and fell into a euphoric state. I missed his face, his voice, so much that my heart nearly jumped out of my chest at the sight of him.
“Hey, Carter.”
“Want to walk?” he asked.
I sensed the worst wasn’t over by the anguish left over in his eyes. It pierced my heart like a dagger of ice. We made our way down the hill to the desolate lower field. My mouth itched to say something, but Carter spoke first.
“I’m really sorry about the other night.”
I shivered, remembering how that perfect night turned into a perfect nightmare. “It wasn’t just your fault. It was mine too. We shouldn’t have lied to my mom.”
“If I had known my mom was going to be home early—”
“It was still the best birthday present ever.”
Carter reached for my hand, and entwined his fingers with mine. My heart raced at his warmth. His hand fit perfectly into mine, like it was made for me. I pressed my cheek against his broad shoulder, wanting to bury myself in him. Something was happening between us—something wonderful and electrifying. We walked down the field hand in hand, not uttering a single word until Carter broke the silence.
“I’m not going to let my mom keep us apart. I just won’t.” His voice sounded thick, like he was on the verge of tears.
“I don’t know what we can do to—to change anything.”
“I’ll think of something.”
“Let’s not talk about her anymore.”
“Good idea,” he said. “Oh, I forgot to tell you about my audition on Sunday.”
I perked up and replied, “How did it go?”
“The record producer asked if he could meet with me next week. He only gave about five kids callbacks, and I was one of ‘em.”
“This could be what you’ve been waiting for. I really hope this one is your big break.”
***
For a whole week, I eagerly waited for Carter to give me the news about his second meeting with the record producer. I finally caught up with him at his locker on my way to class one morning.
“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” I said, hugging my textbooks close to my chest in heavy anticipation.
“Well, you found me.” Carter’s eyes were unreadable. The only emotion I sensed at all was his unhappiness.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He jammed something into his locker and slammed the door in the process. “Nothing. Just stuff.”
Stung by his uncharacteristic simmering anger (although I could see where it came from if he’d inherited it), I asked, “So I’m guessing the meeting with the record producer didn’t go well?”
“Actually—he wants to sign me on.” His tone was curt and dismissive. This was odd behavior considering the good news. “I found out last night.”
“I knew it. Congratulations.” I dropped my books and wrapped my arms around him. The heat of his dejectedness radiated off his skin like a flame, scalding my bliss. “Aren’t you happy? This is what you’ve always wanted, right?”
He avoided my stare, refusing to look me in the eye. “Carter, what’s wrong with you?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Why?” I was completely thrown for a loop. “What do you mean?”
“My manager wants me to relocate,” he said flatly.
This was the most unwelcome news. “To where?”
“Florida.”
I stepped back, feeling dizzy and off balance. “Clear to Florida? So what are you going to do?”
“My mom made the decision in less than thirty seconds. We’re moving to Florida as soon as school lets out for the summer.”
“But that’s only two weeks away,” I replied, nearly choking on the tears that had caught in the back of my throat.
“I know. They aren’t giving me much time.”
My emotions erupted like a dam that had just burst open. Every student in the hallway watched me dissolve into tears. I couldn’t help but feel humiliated for behaving this way in front of him. I took off down the corridor in a state of panic.
I avoided everyone by hiding out in the school baseball dugout during lunch. My mind was still sluggish, trying to come to terms with the idea of Carter moving all the way to Florida. I was happy for him, I really was, but so miserable for myself. A whirlwind of thoughts spun through my mind as I stared out into the wide empty field. It was wondering how I would survive on my own that tortured me. Carter was all I had known for the last two years and without him in my world, I simply couldn’t exist.
I dodged Carter that whole day, rationalizing my behavior by believing I just needed some time to think. But I knew Carter all too well and he managed to find me. My heart ached like an abscessed tooth at the first glimpse of him walking toward me.
“Are you okay?” Carter asked. He walked through the dugout and took a seat beside me on the bench.
For the first time, it actually pained me to look at him. I merely turned my head away and asked, “Do I look okay?”
“I really didn’t plan on this happening. You know that, right?” He sat close, his warm sweet breath tickling my ear. “I was shocked when I found out too.”
“I knew this would happen for you one day. I just didn’t think you would need to move across the country to do it.”
Carter wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and pulled me into his embrace. “It won’t be that bad. I just won’t be living across the street from you anymore.”
A growing tension besieged me—the reality that we were just two kids with our whole lives ahead of us. For the last two years, I took enormous pride in believing I would go through life with Carter by my side. Now those dreams had shattered like broken glass. I had no control over the situation. Carter was slipping through my fingers like sand. Soon enough, I’d be grasping nothing more than dead air. A warm tear spilled over my lashes and rolled down my cheek, and I tried to hide it by turning my face away from him. There was no point in shying away after he saw me bawl like a baby earlier that day.
“This kills me,” he finally said, clutching my arm.
“You can’t leave.” Tears spurted down my face like a fountain. “You’re everything to me.”
Carter rested his damp cheek against mine and said, “I have something for you.” He dug out a small piece of paper from his jean pocket and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s my uncle’s address in Florida. We’ll be staying with him for a while. You can write to me there—as much as you want.”
Although that piece of paper put me at ease, the pain of him moving away was still unbearable.
“I’ll try to call, but writing might be easier,” he said. “You know—because of my mom.”
I buried my face in his chest, never wanting to forget his scent which was a cross between Axe deodorant and Irish Spring soap. For the past two years, I found solace and comfort in that smell, like wrapping myself in a warm towel after it’s just come out of the dryer. “This can’t...this can’t be happening,” I sobbed.
Carter couldn’t escape his feelings, no matter how brave and manly he tried to be. “I’ll be honest with you, Alexa. I just don’t know how I’m going to live without you either.”
***
I wished I’d known way ahead of time about Carter moving across the country. I would have surely better prepared myself. Those last couple weeks, Mary was wound awfully tight and insisted on watching us more closely than ever before. The way we snuck around to see each other outside of school was the most ridiculous thing imaginable. I think those final few hours we spent together meant more to us than the entire two years we were friends. I savored every moment in my mind, like a picture that I could reflect back on later.
The very last day of freshman year passed in one great boring blur. It troubled me that Carter never showed up at school. I spent the day plagued by unsettling thoughts. I wondered if what I was feeling was the first taste of what life would be like without him.
I made the two-mile journey home on foot after school that day. My eyes scanned the neighborhood ahead in anticipation. Something startled me as I got closer to Carter’s house. His basketball hoop was not on the driveway. I told myself that he just packed it away to repress any lingering uncertainties about my discovery. I trekked up the driveway to his front door. A rush of something horrifying overtook my emotions. The wooden ‘Welcome’ sign on the door and the cheesy plastic white chair that always sat on their porch were gone.
I rang the doorbell, and held my fears at bay. The living room window drapes were drawn, so I wasn’t able to uncover anything. Someone had to be home and I didn’t even care if it was Mary.
I waited several minutes, but no one answered. I peeped through the small square glass window on the door, hoping for a miracle. Then I scanned the living room several times to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. The house was as empty as my heart. I sprinted to the side gate of the house in sheer panic, and glanced around at the naked back yard. Dead leaves were scattered along the concrete patio like shells lost to the sea. The rational part of me knew what was happening, but the other half didn’t want to believe it. I walked to the kitchen window, quelling my nausea, and searched the inside for some sort of sign that they were coming back. At the sight of bare rooms and an empty kitchen, my legs became two limp limbs. I sank to the ground and cried feverishly. He left me—without even saying goodbye. After all the things we’d been through together, he just packed up and left.
Something in the rose bushes caught my attention in the midst of my crying jag. I forced myself off the ground, and walked over to what was distracting me. I came across a basketball stuck in between the thorny vines. He’d left behind his second most prized possession. I pulled the ball out of the rose bush with trembling hands, wondering if I should have taken it home. I mean, it was the only thing I had left of him, and I was sure I had every right. I tucked the ball underneath my arm and wiped my tear-streaked face. It wasn’t much, but in a way a piece of him was still with me.
Something underneath the ball brushed up against my skin. Bewildered, I rolled the ball over. A white piece of paper was taped to it, some sort of note. I unfolded it, and what I read nearly made my heart stop. In perfect penmanship were the words, Until we meet again.
Chapter 4: Surprise, Surprise
After several months of talk and no action, fifth-teen-year-old Carter Storm convened uncomfortably with his mother, manager, and record label representative in a glass-walled conference room. At the start of this journey, Carter naively thought success would surely happen overnight. He soon realized it was a lot more complicated than it seemed—meetings, contracts, lawyers—it never ended, and he had little say in the matter. His mother was in charge of all the wheeling and dealing, so for now he would just have to grin and bear it. One false move and the three people sitting at this table before him had the power to shatter his long-awaited dream.
Carter’s manager, Hue Hurlman, looked up from a document lying in front of him and asked, “Are we ready to make a decision?” He perspired like a junkie. Droplets of sweat descended down his pale and blotchy skin and dripped onto the glass top table. The pressure of the meeting was finally getting to him.
“Yes, I think we are ready,” Mary intervened. In fact, the woman was more than ready. She awaited this day since the moment Carter was born. “Let’s get this show on the road. My son’s not getting any younger.”
“Well, let’s hear it.” Hue crossed his arms. “Time is money, guys.” His obese, egg-shaped body barely allowed him to sit contently at the table.
“We are prepared to offer Mr. Storm a generous sign-on offer of one-million dollars. Now, if the album turns out to be a success, we’ll sign him to the label permanently and renegotiate.” The record representative slid a document over to Carter’s mother. “And these are our terms.”
The typical scowl spread across Mary’s weathered face as she read over the contract. “Wait, wait. Hold up here.”
“Is there a problem, Mrs. Storm?” The representative did his best to remain patient. They had been sitting in the meeting over three hours and had not come to an agreement, because of this persnickety woman.
“One-million? Please. That’s chump change, and you know it.” Mary pushed the contract back at Hue and fired back, “It’s as if we’re talking about some amateur here.”
“Mom, come on. Can’t we just worry about the money part later?”
“Hush your mouth. Do you want us to forget everything and walk out right now? Is that what you want?”
Carter gazed into his lap and whispered meekly, “No, Mom.”
Mary slapped her hand down on the table in finality. “Five-million and not a penny less.”
“Now, Mrs. Storm,” Hue said, “let’s be reasonable here.”
“It’s insane to offer that amount of money, especially to someone who is still relatively unknown,” the representative explained. “There is no guarantee of anything, Mrs. Storm. It’s a crap shoot.”
“Well, if you don't want to agree to my terms, then I’m sorry. We’ll just have to decline your offer. We can always find someone to pay what my son is worth.”
Carter’s fears came in waves throughout the meeting when his mother would say something to make him fearful of her blowing the whole gig. Then the feeling would subside after Hue would appease her. But not a moment too soon, the fear inside him would rise again when his mother became confrontational.
“Mom, just listen to him. Please!”
Hue stood up from his seat in distress. “Yes, Mrs. Storm, let’s be rational about this.”
“Come on, Carter.” She grabbed him as though he were a child wandering astray. “We deserve better than this.”
“Wait, Mrs. Storm. Please. Let’s sit down and negotiate this,” Hue pleaded.
Mary glared at him like she would burst into flames. “Under what terms?”
“Well, what about three-million?” Hue asked the now-irked male record representative.
The representative tapped his pen against the table in apparent frustration and said, “You know, I’ve had enough of this. Let me just say that if Carter doesn’t produce, you will be indebted to us,” he retorted. “Two and half million, take it or leave it.”
Mary’s smile was as evil as the devil himself. “Oh, he’ll produce all right. My son will make you more money than you have ever dreamed.”
“There is one more minor detail that I would like to discuss.” Hue dragged his chair closer to Carter and signaled Mary to stop before she even spoke. “And I only need Carter’s input o
n this.”
Mary crossed her arms in supreme authority. “Nothing is agreed upon without my consent. It’s MY son we’re talking about.”
Hue ignored her comment said, “Carter, we think it might be more profitable for you if you have a stage name.”
“Really?” Carter asked, intrigued.
“Oh—now ‘Carter Storm’ isn’t a good enough name for you people?” Mary bellowed. “What next?”
“Mrs. Storm, that's quite enough already,” the representative cautioned. “Let the kid make a decision on his own for once in his life.”
Hue moved in conspiratorially close to Carter. “I’ve been thinking—what do you think about the name ‘Aiden’?”
***
I sort of reverted back to my old life after Carter left, the life before we met. I found myself once again alone and without a friend in the world. Sometimes I would just sit outside on my porch and stare at their driveway for hours, as though doing so would force him to come outside and start shooting hoops. Carter’s house remained vacant for about six months. Then a young Asian couple moved in and I sobbed for days. It just didn’t feel right, like someone stepping into someone else’s worn shoes.
I wrote Carter a letter every day for the next few months. I pretty much gave him a blow-by-blow description of everything going on in my life. The letters went something like this: what I ate for dinner, the three-point shot I made with his basketball when I played a game with Dad, and most importantly, how much I missed him. Then I waited for his reply with great anticipation, wanting to know everything going on in his life. After all the waiting, wondering and postage, I never received a response or even a phone call. I tried seeking him out when the internet came about, but my search was fruitless. I had to accept the fact that our friendship was over.
I had a bizarre dream a couple weeks after Carter had left me. I was in front of the grocery store with my mother in the middle of the night. She asked me to stay put while she ran in to get some milk. I hung outside the sliding glass doors, awaiting her return, and that was when I saw him. Carter made his way to the front of the store, dressed in the same outfit I had last seen him in: striped red-and-blue shirt and old faded blue jeans. I stopped him before he went into the store, but he didn’t seem to recognize me.
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