I'll Be the One

by Hazel James

  “That is not happening!” James manages to shout with a mouthful of chili.

  “Oh, come on! I can’t tell the one about you running naked through the grocery store?” his mom teases.

  “Absolutely not,” he says, pointing his spoon at her.

  “But it was so sweet! You were just starting to read and thought the sign that said ‘buy one, get one half off’ meant you had to take half of your clothes off.”

  “Mother!”

  “Oh fine. What about the time you cut the hair from your head and tried to tape it on your chest so you’d look older?”

  “MOM!”

  “Okay, okay. You win. I won’t mention anything else. Especially not the story about you shoving whole cloves up your nose.”

  His spoon clatters into the bowl, and for the second time this evening, James leans his head down and groans. I’m doing my best to not laugh and choke on my dinner, but it’s so hard not to.

  “River loves Christmas,” his mom starts in. Her eyes are twinkling and she lets a giggle slip. “He was around nine and it was the middle of June. He decided he missed the smell of Christmas, so he got two cloves and stuck them in his nose. He starts running through the house yelling ‘Christmas is burning my nose!’” She’s wiping tears from her eyes now. “It was the funniest thing. We got them out a few minutes later, but he hasn’t gone near cloves since.”

  I’ve learned so much about James this afternoon. Like exactly how many shades of red he can turn in ten seconds. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep you safe from the cloves next Christmas,” I say, patting his arm. I don’t know what’s weirder—the fact that I just mentioned still being together next Christmas, or the fact James didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

  “That’s mighty swell of you,” his muffled voice says. He lifts his head and wipes his face. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to finish the dinner my favorite female adult cooked and then I’m running away from home.”

  “You know I love you, River,” his mom says, still laughing.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he says. He rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide his smile anymore. “It’s a good thing you know how to make chocolate chip cookies. That’s the only reason I love you.”

  “I always knew those cookies would come in handy.”

  I laugh to myself and finish my dinner while taking in the easy banter at the table. I’m not sure how I’ll manage tomorrow at my own house. I’m sort of sad just thinking about it.

  “Turn here. Her house is the fourth one on the left.” I point to the red brick house with the Audi in the driveway.

  “What does ‘mahogany’ mean?” James asks as we pull in front of the house.

  “I’ll tell you about it later,” I say, laughing as we walk into Avery’s house. I haven’t knocked in more than a year. Mandy said if I kept asking permission to enter the house, she was gonna start telling me ‘no.’ Aunt Devin took that one step further and made me a copy of the house key.

  “The Tennysons are here!” Avery bounds down the hallway. If I had to cast her in any cartoon role, she’d be Tigger. She’s one of the most exuberant people I know. Sometimes it’s annoying, but it’s mostly sweet.

  “Hey, when’s Fletcher getting here?” I ask.

  “In about ten minutes.” She holds up her phone, and points to her call log. “Can you believe it?” she nearly shrieks. Fletcher’s name is on the top of the incoming calls list.

  “So about hoping Harris would ask you to the movies…” I start.

  “Harris? Oh please, Ray. Keep up!”

  “I know, I know. Who’s it gonna be next week?” I tease.

  “God willing, Fletcher. And the month after, and the one after that.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Before he left this afternoon, I overheard him asking my mom if he could pick up a few extra shifts this month. Get this, he lives at home so he can help his parents out. His mom was sick a while back and hasn’t been able to return to work full time, so he stays there to help with the bills and so he can watch his little sister.” Avery sighs. “I already thought he was cute, but that kind of love and dedication to your family? I’m a goner.” She pats her heart for effect. This is the first time since Derrick that Avery’s mentioned wanting a boyfriend longer than a weekend or two. I’m not surprised that it was Fletcher’s family mindedness that put her over the edge. Ever since her parents’ divorce, family has been of huge importance to Avery.

  “I guess I won’t need to take your Saturday shifts from you,” James says.

  “Not so fast.” She pokes him in the chest. “I like Fletcher. The jury’s still out on whether he likes me or not.”

  The doorbell rings, and Avery shrieks and runs for her bedroom.

  “Why don’t you get that, and I’ll go pull Avery down from the ceiling,” I tell James. After ten solid minutes of outfit changes and me convincing her that she’s overreacting, we emerge.

  “Wow.” Fletcher hops off the couch and takes in Avery’s skinny jeans, knee-high boots and red sweater, which makes her mocha skin look even creamier. But she’s one of those girls who could wear a potato sack and still look stunning. Me? I’m rocking my favorite pair of Sevens and Toms.

  “Mom, we’re leaving,” Avery shouts toward the kitchen. Mandy comes out wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

  “I hope y’all have a good time tonight. Fletcher, take care of my baby. Drive safely and don’t do anything reckless. I’m looking at you, Avery.”

  “We’ll be fine, Mom.” She stands on her toes to kiss Mandy’s cheek.

  “I mean it. We’re not in New York City.”

  “Thank you for the quick geography lesson, Mom.” We walk outside to our respective vehicles.

  “And remember to be safe! I’m too young to be a grandma!” Mandy shouts from the doorway.

  “JESUS CHRIST, MOTHER!!”

  “Mouth, young lady!” Mandy calls. “You’re too young to be using that language.”

  Avery slams the car door and covers her hands with her face. James laughs as we get in his truck.

  “Well at least I’m not the only one being embarrassed by their mom tonight.”

  “Speaking of embarrassing moms, why’d yours name you River?”

  “Remember when I said she left right after high school? Well, she changed her name to Sunshine and decided the hippie life was what she wanted. She met a guy named Arlo Tennyson and she said she fell in love with him while he quoted Alfred, Lord Tennyson. He claimed to be a descendant, but I doubt that.”

  “That does sound pretty romantic.”

  “I guess. Anyway, I was their love child and was apparently born near a river in Florida.”

  “How come they didn’t stay together?”

  “I don’t think she was looking to settle down then. Over the years, she said marriage was too institutionalized for her, but I think that became a defense mechanism when none of her other relationships worked out. I sort of feel bad for her.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Everyone deserves a shot at growing old with the person they love.”

  He reaches for my left hand, and it’s really hard to not read into the timing of his gesture. We pull into the theater parking lot behind Fletcher and Avery. He lets go long enough to put the truck in park and take the keys out of the ignition, but doesn’t get out of the truck yet. He reaches over and grabs my hand again.

  “Come here,” he says. He leans in and he offers a simple, sweet kiss. “I never said thank you, by the way.”

  “For what?” I ask, lost in his woodsy scent and long lashes.

  “For sitting next to me in Economics so we’d be partners.”

  “You left me no choice. You sat in my seat, and the only other empty desk was next to Smelly Warren.” I run my nose along his jawline and lightly kiss the skin below his ear.

  “I was in your seat?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well now I’m really glad I didn’t sit next to Smelly Warren.” A tapping
at my window interrupts our fit of laughter.

  “Let’s go, lovebirds!” Avery shouts. “I’m freezing!”

  We walk toward the theater when Fletcher’s phone chimes. He unlocks it and a tiny face fills the screen. He hits play and the cutest little voice says, “Goodnight Avewy and Fwetcher. I wuv you!”

  “Hang on guys,” Avery says. She and Fletcher stop to record their own goodnight video.

  “Who was that from?” I ask.

  “My little sister, Samantha,” Fletcher answers, sliding his phone in his back pocket. The smile on his face oozes pride and love. No doubt, this is earning him serious bonus points with Avery.

  “We’ve been sending videos back and forth since we left my house,” Avery says. “She’s the coolest four-year-old I know. Her favorite color is sparkles, she loves My Little Pony and she wants to be a mommy and a baker when she grows up.”

  “She’s adorable, Fletcher!”

  James reaches the ticket booth a step ahead of me, purchases our tickets and hands me mine. “You didn’t have to, but thank you,” I say.

  “I told you, this is an official date. That means I get to kiss you at the end of the night.”

  “But you’ve already kissed me today.”

  “I know.” He grins while I roll my eyes and walk in the theater.

  Fletcher’s phone chimes again in the concession line.

  “Fwetcher, I’m scawed. Sing me the monster song.”

  Instead of ignoring her request, he sings her the monster song. In the middle of the lobby. With people watching. I look over at Avery. Her hands are cupped over her mouth and her eyes brim with tears. “Sorry, I sing her that every night before bed,” he says quietly after he sends the video. Avery takes his hand and leans her head on his chest.

  “You never have to apologize for being the best big brother on the planet.” She wipes her eyes. “Ray, you going for Buncha Crunch or Milk Duds?” she asks, changing the subject. She’s such a softy.

  “Do you even have to ask? Milk Duds all the way.”

  We settle into our seats. A few minutes into the movie, I look to my right and see Fletcher and Avery holding hands. Her head’s on his shoulder and his head’s resting on hers. Looks like James won’t be taking her shifts after all.

  “Is this the part where I say I had a really nice time with you?” James asks. We’re still sitting in The Beast in front of Avery’s house. Double dating on the same night I’m sleeping over at her house means both couples would be at the front door and that’s just weird.

  “Only if you want to.”

  “I had a really nice time with you,” he says softly. He unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me closer to him.

  “Eh, it was okay,” I tease.

  “Ego. Head. Oven.” God, this guy makes me laugh.

  “There, there,” I say, kissing him on the cheek. He pulls away and stares at me. His face looks puzzled as his eyes search mine.

  “How is it possible that I didn’t know you last Saturday? I mean, I’ve started at a new school more times than I can count, but I’ve never had a week like this.” He takes a deep breath. “Maybe that’s because I’ve never met anyone else like you.” He traces his finger up and down my left arm, which has come alive with nerve endings. I love every single one of them.

  “You mean this isn’t all part of your M.O.?” Not that it would matter much. I’d follow him off a cliff like he was the Pied Piper.

  “Definitely not,” he laughs. “I don’t have an M.O. Just a serious crush on a beautiful girl.” He presses his lips to mine and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. His hands move to either side of my face and he deepens the kiss. If I could choose one moment in my life to live over and over, it would be this one. “Sorry,” he says, his eyes smiling as he pulls away slightly. “I sort of got lost there for a minute.”

  “No complaints from me.” Avery’s mom flashes the porch light and we both sigh. Four car doors open and we make our way to Avery’s house.

  “Have a good night, Mrs. Tennyson.” He places a chaste kiss on my lips.

  “Have a good night, Mr. Tennyson. I’ll see you in class Monday. I’ll be the one sitting next to the hot firefighter.”

  “So I passed the test?”

  “Most definitely.” I laugh as he pumps a fist in the air. “How many tattoos do you have?”

  “Four.”

  “Looks like I still need to find the other two.” I can’t help my mischievous look as I drum my fingertips together.

  “Anytime, sweetheart.” I love it when he grins like that. It makes me want to eat his face off.

  “Okay, teenagers, it’s final call,” Mandy says from the front door.

  Fletcher kisses Avery on the cheek. “Can I call you tomorrow?” he asks.

  She blushes and tucks an errant curl behind her ear. “I’d like that. Give Sam a goodnight kiss from me, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  Avery and I head to her bedroom after the guys leave. She closes her door and leans against it.

  “Ray, I have a problem.”

  “Uh, oh. What?” I mentally review the evening, but nothing between her and Fletcher jumps out at me.

  “I think I’m in love,” she sighs.

  Yeah. I think I know what you mean.

  “I got a boogie!” Samantha runs toward me with her right index finger extended. Fletcher intercepts her with a tissue and spares me from being assaulted by her nasal nastiness. Even guys have to draw the line somewhere.

  “Slow down, Booger Butt. Let’s not scare James away, okay?”

  “Sowwy, Fwetcher.” She bats her eyelashes and he instantly caves. With eyes and pouty lips like hers, he never stood a chance.

  “Good save, bro,” I say with an appreciative nod. It’s easy to see why Avery instantly fell in love with Sam a couple of weeks ago. The kid is pretty rad, despite her fondness for nose picking. I’ve only been at Fletcher’s for an hour and she’s already made me three cups of tea and painted my toenails. I couldn’t say no to the last one, therefore I’m sporting a sparkly pink pedicure. I’d like to believe I’m man enough to pull it off. Ray’s spending the next week gearing up for her invitational, and Avery’s working at the Sweet Pea (I didn’t have to take her shifts after all), so I’m playing guitar with Fletcher at his house. It’s his parents’ monthly date night.

  “James, did you know I’m a supwise?”

  “No, I definitely didn’t know that.” I look at Fletcher for translation.

  “Yes, you are a surprise, Sammy girl. Now go surprise us with the most spectacular dress up outfit ever.” She runs back to her room full of inspiration.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed the fifteen-year difference between us, Sam wasn’t exactly planned. Mom hates it when people say she was an accident, so we’ve always said Sammy was our surprise baby. She loves it though, since she thinks surprises are the best thing ever.”

  “Smart kid, that one.” I remove the capo from the neck of my guitar and continue strumming.

  “What about this one?” he asks. I listen to the easy intro and nod along, picking out harmonies. “Hey, what do you think about playing at the Sweet Pea sometime? I was thinking of asking Mandy and Devin about doing an open mic night kind of thing.”

  “That could be pretty cool,” I say, considering it.

  “Well, it sort of leads into the other idea I had. And I kind of wanted your opinion on it.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Avery has been dropping hints about prom like crazy so I know she wants me to ask her. The thing is, I can’t afford a tux rental and a corsage and dinner at a nice restaurant. If we had a couple of open mic nights and had a small cover fee, maybe we could earn enough money to do a post-prom senior dinner thing at the Pea.”

  “Wow, you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Never mind that it’s January and Avery’s already making prom plans.

  “Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck—more in a show of nerves than dry skin, I’m sure. �
��Avery’s really cool, man. These past couple of weeks have been pretty epic. And it’s not even been anything big. We talk every night and she came here a few days ago for dinner. I just don’t want to give her any reasons to dump me.”

  “From what I’ve heard from Ray, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. But no doubt, she’ll appreciate the gesture. I’m on board, just let me know what you need me to do.”

  “Just show up with your guitar and sing.”

  “Consider it done, dude.” He exhales a sigh of relief. “I guess that means we should practice some songs, huh?”

  “Probably.”

  We spend the next couple of hours making a set list—five cover songs and one original that we started on. Samantha regularly interrupted us (two games of duck-duck-goose, one ice-cream mishap and an emergency surgery on Mrs. Bear’s leg after their dog amputated it). She finally passed out in a sea of stuffed animals and My Little Ponies at 9:30. She’s a cute kid, but damn, I’m exhausted.

  “Are you tired?” I ask, when Rachel’s face fills my screen. I know she’s working really hard on her personal record. I kick my shoes off and flop on my bed.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty beat.”

  “Well you’ve been running through my mind all day.” I laugh and she rolls her eyes.

  “Very original, Romeo.” Her face moves off camera.

  “Where’d you go?” I say to her ceiling.

  “I just got out of the shower and I’m putting on my pajamas.”

  “You’re naked? Christ, Ray.” I groan. “This is sixteen kinds of unfair here.”

  “Down, boy,” she says from across her room.

  “Easy for you to say.” To retaliate, I remove my shirt and prop my phone up on my footboard, then lean back on my pillows and lace my fingers behind my head. Two can play at this game.

  “Okay, I’m back.” Her face fills the screen again, just in time for me to see her jaw fall open. “Wait a minute mister,” she says, narrowing her eyes and pointing at the phone. “That’s not fair. I didn’t get naked in front of you.”

  “I’m not naked. I have pants on. And I promise I wouldn’t have complained if you did.” I send her my most angelic smile.