by Julia Swift
As the cop moves closer with the printout in hand, I notice he walks with a slight twist in his step. He must’ve seen the look on my face morph from happy to worried because he offers up that yes, he has a prosthetic limb and asks if I want to see it? He’s proud of his injury. To him, it’s a symbol of what he was willing to sacrifice to uphold the laws and freedoms of our country. And I was tricking him, undermining those laws. Why is everything so confusing? As he hands me the printout, I spot a U.S.M.C. tattoo. When I leave, I almost forget take the paper, all I can think about is my brother in the military, fighting or being injured or worse.
*
I storm into the house and find Dad.
“It’s your fault if he dies, or comes back without an arm or a leg.”
“Sasha, don’t even think such things, but definitely, never ever say them aloud.”
“If you care about him so much, why are you making him go away?”
“I’m not making him join the military.”
“Yes, you are. You put so much pressure on him to make you proud, find a job, get a career. He’s trying. It’s not that easy, but you keep pushing and now he’s taking tests, signing papers.”
It better not be too late. Can he rip up the papers?
“It’s his choice, not mine. I can’t force you kids to take advantage of all the opportunities you have here.”
“Make him un-join. Tell him you’d be proud of him even if he works at the pizza place answering the phone for the rest of his life.”
“You really think I wouldn’t be? If he had a wife, a kid, a little house and a job he liked and he was happy, rode his motorcycle on the weekend... with a helmet. That’s my dream for him. And not because I don’t think he can do more, but because there is no more. That’s the dream, especially if he owned a house where he didn’t have to sell oil rights so he could really feel like he owned the land.”
He’s smiling now.
“Dad, this isn’t a joke. You have to fix this. Maybe he could work with you.”
“He has a record. They do background checks at work. And you think the Air Force won’t find out he was arrested?”
“He’s going to be crushed. What can we do?”
“He doesn’t want my help. I tried after he got arrested, he wouldn’t even let me hire a lawyer or even come to court.”
I thought Dad didn’t go to the trial because he was disappointed in Xander.
“Maybe he was embarrassed he let you down, he was your pride.”
“You want to believe it’s all my fault, fine. But ask him who was with him at the store. Trina. Worst thing to ever happen to him. Ask him where the jewelry is he supposedly stole, ask him if he still thinks it was worth it now to protect her.”
Trina? Did she rob the store? Was Xander even there? Did he know why she wanted to go? She was always bejeweled and when she stopped by when he was in jail, I noticed her new ring. I thought a new boyfriend must have given it to her. I assumed it was fake, not worth much. Not worth Xander’s future. That was when she told me he kept her safe.
“You know, I say that stuff about the oil to drive you crazy. If they find oil here, they would set up a well miles away.”
“Doesn’t matter. Anyone tries to take this house away from me, I’ll be one of those crazies in front of the bulldozers. And as much as your mom complains about the leaks and the paint, anyone tries to touch that closet where you and your brother wrote secret notes to each other on the wall, she would lie next to me.”
So would I.
*
I’m pounding on Trina’s door. Xander won’t listen to me or Dad, maybe he’ll listen to her. Plus I want to kick her ass. She better not be wearing any rings.
The door opens, but it’s not Trina, it’s Xander.
“What the hell are you doing here? Some things have nothing to do with you.”
“You can’t enlist. No one wants you to go. Not even Dad.”
“It’s my one chance to do something right and when I get back, I’ll be able to do all kinds of jobs. People respect a uniform.”
“They won’t take you. Because of her, you have a record.”
“It was on my juvenile file. It won’t stop them from taking me. And Sasha, my mistakes are mine, no one else’s. It’s time you start concentrating on yourself, I don’t need you to be there to make sure I don’t get into trouble anymore. I got this. Maybe me going away will help you worry about you.”
As he closes the door, I see Trina behind him holding a baby.
A baby?
It can’t be his. He would have told me. But that would explain why he would go to jail for her. But Xander would do that anyway. That’s him. And me? Am I so judgmental that my brother doesn’t even want me around his baby? His baby, that would be my niece, or nephew. How can I not know?
I was nervous the first time I went to visit Xander behind bars. He had been convicted and moved to a prison upstate by then. My parents didn’t want me to go so I had to ask Trina if I could tag along. She was glad to have company for the long car ride.
It was unnerving to see her sitting in the driver’s seat of his truck, her hand resting lightly on the wheel. She was clearly comfortable taking over what had been his. She sang along to the radio, and I sat quietly brooding. There was no scenery to distract me, just flat farmland. When we drove past the cows on either side of Interstate 5, she rolled up the windows. Little beads of sweat rose on her forehead. I didn’t care that she was nauseous, I only cared that now she didn’t seem so relaxed and happy in Xander’s seat. Good.
No wonder she didn’t tell me she was pregnant. She must have felt the hate I had for her. I still blame her for letting Xander take the fall for the robbery. Dad has to be right. It makes perfect sense that she stole the jewelry. If Xander knew she was pregnant, he would do anything to keep her safe. Part of him was growing inside of her. Part of my family. I still hate her. But I love that baby.
49
Sasha
I’m sitting in history class. I ran back to school. Today was a lot and I need to download, be still for a while. I keep replaying Xander saying I should stop worrying about him and concentrate on me.
Maybe no one ever notices me because I never pay any attention to myself. I’m too busy worrying about what everyone else sees and thinks to discover the truth about me.
“Hello? Is this working?”
Everyone in the room suddenly perks up at the sound of the mysterious voice being piped through the intercom. They don’t know who is speaking, but I do.
“You all know me as Will, the new kid, the basketball player, the cry baby from the school paper.”
My teacher, who runs the television broadcast club, rushes out of the room, worried about the equipment. A kid in the front row slides the blackboard aside and switches on the closed circuit television system, and there is Will. He sits at the desk the student reporters use every morning. He looks nervous, but determined.
“We’re supposed to discover ourselves in high school. But all most of do is find out what everyone else expects of us – our parents, our teachers, our friends, girls.”
Will flinches at the sound of pounding on the recording room door. He moves closer to the camera, and suddenly the picture wobbles. He must be holding the camera in front of himself like when you extend your arm to snap a self-portrait.
“I need your help. The powers that be are about to break in here and turn off my connection. Stop them. Crowd the halls. Block them. What are they afraid of anyway? I’m not hurting anyone. I just need to tell the truth.”
I hear a student run in the hall. Then another. At first, it’s members of the basketball team, but then the two girls from the Prius at the mini-mart leave their desks. I can’t move, because I need to see him, hear him.
“I screwed up. I found a girl who really got me, you know? I could tell her anything.”
That’s me. I think. I hope.
“But I got pulled back into being the guy everyone wants
me to be. Playing ball, staying out of my mom’s way, shuttling from class to class like we all do, making life easy for our teachers and parents, but what about us? This is supposed to be our time.”
Students all over the school applaud and holler. On the screen, Will exits through a back door and pushes through the now crowded hallway. The other students block the principal from reaching Will.
“We are all in our little protective boxes, don’t get too close, don’t let them see what you’re really feeling. What if we broke out and expected the world to be good and not bad? What if instead of being afraid of how people see us, we assumed everyone was on our side?”
Over Will’s shoulder, I can see the basketball coach enter the broadcast room, lock the door and flash the students a thumbs-up through the glass. He won’t let them cut Will’s video feed.
Suddenly, a group of kids barges into my classroom, followed by Will. He hands the camera to Amber. Carmen quickly locks the door to block the principal and her teacher posse.
Will walks right up to me.
50
Will
“Could we get hurt, would we look like idiots? Yes, but we might really live and explore and get to know our friends and fall in love. And what if all across the city people weren’t afraid to leave their little bubble neighborhoods to explore the world? Imagine if politicians weren’t always looking for a fight, but instead assume everyone is on their side?”
A tear slides down the principal’s cheek. Jake Jenkins puts his arm around her.
“This girl makes me want to be open to everything. I love her.”
Amber zooms the lens for a closer shot of Sasha. I hold up my hand to block the camera, Sasha is too shy to want to be seen. But Sasha pulls down my hand.
“This is possible guys. Force the world to live up to your dreams. Be bold.”
Sasha jumps into my arms and kisses me.
51
Sasha
We’re spinning around and I’m getting a little out of breath, not because my heart’s beating fast, even though it is, being so close to Will, but more from the centrifugal force, like when your lungs are pushed in when an airplane takes off too fast. I catch a glimpse of a reflection on the window into the hallway packed with students, and all I see are colors, the colors of people I trust, people with strong souls – deep purple, red, blue, green, yellow, every color. And I wonder if it’s Will I’m seeing reflected in the glass, but I realize it’s me. Everyone in school is staring, but I don’t care. I don’t see them. For maybe the first time, I see me.
About the authors
Julia and Andrew began writing together while at U.S.C. Film School and have since written for such network television dramas as Smallville, The Book of Daniel and Hercules: The Legendary Journeys.
Although they lived very different childhoods – Julia in Los Angeles, while Andrew was adopted from a South Korean orphanage and raised in a small Pennsylvania town – they share the same love of the underdog, the misfit, the shy teen... their former selves. Both Julia and Andrew are lucky to have the unwavering support of their respective husbands (Andrew & Paul), the unconditional love of their dogs (Lilly & Henry) and the ever-inspiring model of boldness and sensitivity... Julia’s teenage son, Zane.
BOLD is their first novel.
juliaswiftandrewlandis.com
Table of Contents
copyright
BEFORE
1 Sasha
AFTER
2 Sasha
3 Will
4 Sasha
5 Will
6 Will
7 Sasha
8 Will
9 Sasha
10 Will
11 Will
12 Sasha
13 Will
14 Sasha
15 Sasha
16 Will
17 Sasha
18 Will
19 Sasha
20 Will
21 Sasha
22 Will
23 Sasha
24 Will
25 Sasha
26 Will
27 Sasha
28 Will
29 Sasha
30 Will
31 Sasha
32 Will
33 Sasha
34 Will
35 Will
36 Sasha
37 Sasha
38 Will
39 Sasha
40 Will
41 Will
42 Sasha
43 Will
44 Sasha
45 Will
46 Sasha
47 Will
48 Sasha
49 Sasha
50 Will
51 Sasha
About the authors