by Piper Bee
I know it’s hard to break news.
Was he talking about this? Even if he was, does that change anything? He still kept it from me. He still kissed me. He knew who I was and he let me fall. But maybe I shouldn’t blame him.
No. I know the right thing was to say something.
I stare at the vaulted ceiling. My breath feels shallow, not just because I’m lying down again. I have to talk to him. But how?
My mom’s voice enters the cabin before she does. Heat radiates inside the cabin when she opens the door. Jan-di gives me a sun-kissed smile and waves at me as if she’s not only fifteen feet away.
And they don’t ask me why I came back early.
Angela walks in after them, her towel and hat under one arm and clear vinyl tote back dangling from the other. She says “hello” but clearly she’s keeping our last conversation under wraps. Judging by how everyone else acts when they see me, I’m sure she covered up what actually happened.
What an ugly woman.
Lena follows after her, thumbing her phone. “Oh hey, Joy! Get too much sun?”
I nod, but her eyes are already back on her screen.
And then Jin walks in. Whatever lingering smile was on his face fades entirely when we make eye contact.
I can’t keep it. I look away immediately.
Don’t cry.
His hand falls onto the couch back.
“Hey,” he says in a low voice. “You okay?”
DO NOT CRY.
I don’t look at him. “Fine.”
He lingers on my monotone answer.
Everyone else goes on about the fabulous weather, the amazing nature, some guy with a weird tan line. They loved every minute of today.
Feels like I’m on another planet.
“You wanna help me start a fire?” Jin asks in almost a whisper.
I finally meet his eyes and I don’t know how to feel. I caught insane feelings for him. I still dream of our next kiss. I’m still twisted up with hurt. I can’t answer him.
He shakes off my silence, but I can’t decide if he knows. He goes into the backyard and starts fiddling with the fire pit. The other women have barely stopped talking. Not really surprising that none of them perceive my actual state of being.
Jan-di leans on the back of the couch, the edge of her bob tickling her jawline.
“Joey, you should go to talk with Jin,” she says, with a small, courteous smile.
Or is it something other than courtesy? Maybe Jin actually talks to his mom.
She holds her hand out. “Come up.” I take her hand and strain to get off the couch. She carries my crutches as I limp to the door.
The sun casts a harsh glow on everything. Jan-di shuts the door behind me. Jin lifts his head. He’s tense, so he knows something. I take a seat and my crutches crash to the ground.
Jin pulls newspaper out of the cardboard box labeled “BONFIRE” and crumples it into balls. I hate that I’m watching him. How can he be so beautiful as ink spreads onto his fingers?
“When were you gonna tell me about your dad?” I ask.
Eye contact. Yep. He knew. He squeezes his eyes shut and his shoulders fall forward.
“I’m so sorry.” He’s quieter than the rustling of newspaper in his hands.
“It had to come from Angela, right after she goes off about how you and Lena are meant to be together.” My lip trembles. There’s a wavering anger in me that I never expected would be directed at Jin.
I don’t want to scold him. “How long did you know, Jin?”
“When you told me last week. Donuts. First time I made the connection.” He drops what he’s doing and kneels down in front of me with urgency. “I swear I was gonna tell you. That’s why I followed you yesterday.”
I can’t tell if it hurts or not, knowing it wasn’t just blind affection that drove him to come after me. “So why didn’t you?”
He opens his mouth to talk but nothing comes out for a second. “How was I supposed to tell the girl I like that my dad almost ruined her life?”
My stomach flips. He’d been trying to figure it out because he liked me. His remorse softens me. I’m weak for his weakness.
He keeps talking. “Everything was too perfect, Joy. And then you ran and I just… I didn’t want to give you another reason.”
I shudder, but it’s because it makes sense. I doubted him and I shouldn’t have. Deep breath. “It’s okay. I get it. I don’t blame you.”
Is it that easy to forgive him? I want it to be. But there’s still worry in his brow when he bites his lip. He stands up and gets back to his forgotten task of lighting the fire, fiddling with the lighter.
“What is it, Jin?”
He throws the lighter in the unlit pit. “I’m stuck on you, Joy. I meant it when I said I would fight for this. If you want me to.”
There’s something foreboding in the way he says it. Like I still don’t know everything we’re fighting against.
I frown. “Jin…”
“There’s something else I have to tell you,” he says, avoiding eye contact. My heart is in my throat. I’m caught in that suspense and I hate it. I’ve always hated it. How can someone love this part?
It pains him to get it out. “I accepted the internship.” Now he looks at me. “I fly out in two weeks.”
My eyes fall closed, my face gets hot. I’m awash with unforeseen despair.
He’s leaving.
Jin draws near again, and I sink further into the chair. The daylight has faded and everything is turning blue. He grabs my hand. “I want you, Joy. More than I expected.”
Tears stream on my cheeks and I’m so shaky. I told him he should go. Why did I tell him to go?
I pull away from him. “This is too much.”
I get up. He doesn’t stop me, though I can tell he’s holding back again. I grab my crutches and turn away. It’s too hard to watch him.
“Joy, please,” he begs, his voice wobbling. “I want this to work. So much.”
I whip around before I’ve taken a step. “But you’re leaving, Jin!” My voice catches. It doesn’t matter how strong I thought I was or how desperate I am for him.
He stares at me, lost for what to say.
“And you should go,” I say. “But you should know that you’re the brightest spot I’ve ever had in my life.” Another fresh tear rolls to my chin.
I leave the rest unsaid. There are too many conditions to follow “but” and too many ways to say “goodbye” and too many well wishes I don’t really want to give.
I turn my back to him.
“So are you, Joy.”
I shiver as I press the heel of my hand to my eyes. I can’t respond. So I focus on getting back inside the cabin. I shut the sliding door, sealing him off from me.
Precariously balanced on my crutches, I heave a sigh.
“What was that about?” Lena’s sitting in the armchair, facing away. She looks over her shoulder.
I reveal my sore eyes to her and she gets stiff.
“Are you crying?” She rises and gets a closer look.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Lena.” My voice is low and cruel and I don’t care how it makes her feel. It couldn’t possibly be worse than me.
Her eyes grow wide. “What did I do?”
“Nothing. It’s not even about you.” I hobble past her. “Believe it or not.”
I don’t get far when she says, “I warned you, didn’t I?”
I pause, gripping the handles of my crutches with white knuckles. Moments like these give me sympathy for Carson’s outbursts. Hurling objects at walls, shoving things off of tables, screaming everything that I know would hurt her.
But I’m not Carson, and honestly, she’s right.
She warned me that I’d get hurt. And I did.
TRACK 23 - GRIP
JULY 25TH
Damn. I couldn’t get the dirt stain out after all. It’s just a pale grey splotch, judging me for bringing it along to the secret pond and dropping it c
arelessly on the dirty rocks.
The sun is some kind of uncomfortable devil today. It glares at us in a makes-you-wish-you-lived-in-the-Alaskan-tundra type of way. Thank goodness I brought my Mariners cap because I could see nothing without it blocking the bright beams. It’s Carson’s first day back on the field. This stain is foreboding, though.
I didn’t think I was superstitious, but my fortune hasn’t been great lately.
After Jin and I had our… I don’t know what to call it. After that, my mom found me crying into the Cowboys blanket, alone in the basement. She asked what was wrong. I didn’t know what to tell her, honestly. I said the “fight” was with Lena (because it kind of was). She asked if it was about Jin, and so I said, “Sort of.” Then she actually switched likable-mom mode on and asked if I wanted to go home.
So that night, we left. And for the whole car ride, she didn’t press it. She asked if I wanted to talk a couple times, but I just redirected the conversation to Carson. He healed up nicely, thanks to the specialized doctors at the resort rehab center. Apparently Victoria Lake is known for its muscular rehab program. Good news for Carson.
Anyway, Mom was apologetic for failing to mention the practice game. And forgetting to mention that I was the only family member who’d be able to make it.
Now I’m here. I have three unread texts from Jin burning a hole in my shorts pocket. But it’s so hot out, I wouldn’t notice anything burning a hole in anything.
“They actually sell Cracker Jacks! Like you got no idea how excited I am that they’re a real thing!” Cale scoots past the other onlookers on his way back to our blistering plastic seats.
God, I’m glad he’s here with me today.
“Why wouldn’t they be real?” I laugh. Then I gasp. “Is that a slushie?!”
Cale hands it to me, candy red and glorious. “Figured you could find a use for it,” he says.
“Today I could pour it in my shirt.”
Cale laughs, but it drowns in the crowd’s cheering when the ballgame song hits the speakers. I stand straight up and join the choir. My ankle isn’t even sore today. The doctor yesterday said I can use it if I’m comfortable, finally. A week of crutches is long enough.
Cale screams the part about Cracker Jacks, wildly waving his box in the air.
“Play ball!” everyone shouts in unison.
I suck down the slushie and it cools my insides. I’m glad I didn’t actually pour it down my shirt.
I really needed a day where not thinking about Jin was actually filled with something fun. Where I don’t see his face whenever I blink or stare off.
I mean, I guess it’s not really that day yet. I can’t stop thinking about the first text he sent to me. I did read that one.
I still mean it.
Four loaded words.
I started a thousand messages, but never sent anything back. After that, he sent the same four words, once a day.
I still mean it.
Even though I read it in the notification, I let the number in the red circle grow. He hasn’t sent one today. I’m kind of scared he won’t.
The truth is, giving myself over to Jin means a ton of bitter confrontations and one really painful goodbye. I dread standing on the other side of airport security and watching him leave. And then the flood of all the smiles and touches and the things he said in his smooth voice just overwhelms me with desire. Straight desire. I want him.
Jin pegged me pretty well, too. If it had been flipped, I probably would have approached with equal caution. I would have done anything to make him feel safe before dragging us through the mud. But I darted for the exit anyway. He still pursued me. And not in a way that was disrespectful or selfish.
It takes a lot of energy to not grab my phone. My fingers itch. I’ve been doing a terrible job trying to get over him.
CARSON BECKER flashes on the screen with my brother’s baseball portrait. It’s time for the Gophers to take the field. The crowd goes crazy because his followers finally feel heard. This is their comeback as much as his, even if it is just a practice game.
“Woo!” Cale hollers, up on his feet and pumping his fist. “BECKER! BECKER! BECKER!”
I yank his arm. “Cale! Would you calm down?”
He plants himself hard in the chair. “When has asking me to calm down EVER worked?”
“Never,” I admit. “But he’s not a pro, so cool it!”
He snatches my slushie. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say.” He slurps while eyeing me, and I ignore him by watching my brother step on the mound.
Carson spots me. He nods once from the down there. I nod once from the bleachers. And I grin. It’s the first time in a while that “the nod” made me feel special.
I can practically see his muscles flex as he grips the ball. He eyes the umpire, winds up and hurls the ball. Strike!
That’s my brother.
“That’s her brother! WOOOO!” Cale wails, and I have to shush him again. He’s twelve times louder than anyone else.
While sweat drips down my back, Carson gets the first two batters out. This next one is a strike away. They haven’t gotten any runs yet. They’re about to go to the second inning in under 10 minutes, which I rarely see.
“He’s on fire!!” Cale says. He pops a Cracker Jack in his mouth. “You think he’ll make it big?”
“I think he could. I’m biased, though.”
“Speaking of big breaks, you ever email that guy? The band manager?” Cale asks me, his eyes on the game.
Crack! It’s a hit. The opposing player jogs to first base. So much for a no-hitter comeback.
I turn my attention to Cale’s question. “Nah. I’m too nervous to find out what they want.”
He nudges me. “You gotta shoot your shot, Becker!” He’s smiling big, but then he turns his head and bites his lower lip.
He turns back to me. “There’s something I gotta tell you, actually.”
Shoot your shot. My pulse races. I’m almost certain I know what he’ll say.
For a split second, he looks down. Smiles. Flips his brown eyes up again.
“My feelings aren’t fake,” he says. “I really like you. Like for real.”
He blows air out of round lips, like he just released a weight. Then he smiles with uncertainty.
We’re doing this now. “I guess I kinda figured that out,” I say, wagering a little smile. But that weight has been transferred over to me. It feels like I’m balancing Cale’s heart on my head, but I’m the same old, clumsy Joy.
I don’t know what to say.
Cale squeezes his eyes shut and, like it’s all one word, says, “Actually, I kinda liked you this whole time. I was never into Lena.”
My brow tenses. “Wait… the whole time?”
I stare off at nothing in particular. The whole time?!
His knee bobs up and down. “Yep. That crazy ploy was actually meant for you.”
How did I miss it?
Thinking back, it’s obvious. Always covered by a joke or song and dance routine. A diverted text chain. Nervous fake-fake affection.
Girl like I don’t love spending time with my FGF!
You were beautiful and amazing today.
It’s hard to get the girl you like to notice you.
The opposing team scores a run and a small section of onlookers cheer, while jeers moan everywhere else. Point for the away team. Meanwhile, I’m running backwards to process the fact that Cale has had real feelings for me for months.
Not like a week and a half. Months.
I punch his arm. “Why didn’t you ask me straight, Thomas?”
“Ouch!” He rubs his arm, then meets my semi-annoyed gaze. “Would that have worked? Better than a convoluted master plan to convince you secretly?”
“Yes, you doofus!” Until I say it, I didn’t know it was true. The scary part about jumping in is not knowing if the other person will go with you, but I think offering your hand is sometimes enough. Just knowing he felt that way might have made my feelings
bloom.
“So you’re saying I could’ve tried the traditional route?” he says.
I throw my hands up. “You mean the normal route!”
He folds his arms to mock me. “Well, I guess that depends on how you feel, Almond Joy!” He unfolds his arms. “Sorry. I’m really bad at ‘serious.’”
“I know.” My eyes fall on Carson, focused on his pitch. Before he throws the ball, there’s suspension. People are antsy to know the outcome, even though it’s a couple seconds away.
Just like Cale is, waiting for me.
“I know I’ve been kind of a wimp around him,” he says, and I find him looking at Carson too.
I shake my head. “That’s not the problem.”
Serious doesn’t seem to be an issue for Cale right now. “So it’s me, then?”
“It’s Jin.”
His brow twitches in confusion. “Oh.” It takes a second to settle, but it does. “Of course it’s Jin.”
I sigh. “But that doesn’t even matter because he’s going to Korea next week, so.”
The heat bears into my flesh. I feel sour like forgotten fruit.
But Cale… laughs. Like, a lot. He slaps his thigh.
“Why are you laughing?” I ask him.
He nods once. “Wow, my plan backfired big time.” He gives a post-laugh sigh. “I knew I shoulda been jealous of that guy! Man.”
“He should be jealous of you, too!” I glance at him. “It’s not like I felt nothing.”
Cale looks at me, his eyebrows up. “Really?”
My heart thumps. He’s hopeful.
In a split second, I imagine what it would be like with Cale. Easy. Fun. Lots of sing-offs and stolen bites of food. Everything I love about being friends would still be great as a couple. And I could kiss him.
But I’d rather kiss Jin. I don’t know if I’ll always feel that way, but right now, I do.
Cale scratches his head. The game’s been at a bit of a standstill with foul balls. It’s hard to pay attention.
Cale leans over toward me and his forehead almost bumps against the bill of my cap. His shoulder touches mine.
“Joy, I’ll stick around for you. As a friend or… as whatever you want.”
Cale doesn’t give himself enough credit. He is really, really good at serious.