My Blue River

by Leslie Trammell

  “Oh, well, no, that was just…that’s…that’s nothing…” He fumbled for words, seemingly embarrassed that he’d been captivated enough by the view to draw it.

  He went back to the pot plant, increasing the shading. I suspected he thought it looked cooler to work on that drawing instead of the mountains. I watched him draw for a while until he could no longer stand my presence.

  “So what’s up? Why are you bothering me?” asked Aaron.

  “Nothing’s up. I just thought I would come see what you were doing.”

  “Don’t you have somebody else to bug, like Jack?”

  “Jack and I aren’t speaking.”

  Aaron looked up with his eyebrow arched. “Oh, reeeeaaaaally?” He dragged the word out. He always loved it when misery found me. “What did you do to piss him off?”

  “Hey, he started it. You missed quite the argument while we were test driving the Land Rover.”

  He cocked his head to the side and looked confused. “I thought I was with you.”

  “You were, but you had your headphones in your ears, remember?”

  His green eyes looked up as if searching a file of memories when suddenly, a look of recollection washed over his face.

  “Oh, yeah. I remember,” said Aaron.

  “Yeah, well, anyway, we got in an argument so now I’m not interested in speaking to him.”

  “He’s probably not interested in speaking to you either.”

  That was a jarring statement. I had been so focused on my own misery that I hadn’t thought of Jack’s perspective. No wonder he ignored me whenever he came here for work. I thought he had decided to be professional now or that he was picking up on my anger. Aaron’s statement brought a new perspective to the situation. Jack was probably no longer interested in me. I suddenly felt a little deflated, but I guessed that was for the best because after all, that had been my goal that day. That was exactly why I had started an argument with him, but now, just like when I shared the story with Sheridan, I felt deep regret.

  “Good point, brat,” I said.

  “Enough with names.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s all in good fun.” I reached out and ruffled the top of his blond head.

  There was a silence. Aaron seemed to be conjuring up the courage to tell me something and when he did, it sent my heart reeling. “I know you hate me,” he said.

  Ouch!

  “Dude, I do not hate you. It’s just in the bylaws of being the big sister. I have to treat you this way or I’ll lose my big sister license.”

  Much to my relief, he offered a weak laugh at my joke.

  “Seriously, Aaron,” I gently touched his chin and pulled his face to meet mine. Amazingly, he allowed me to touch him which pleased me because I wanted him to know I meant my words. I looked directly into his eyes and said, “I DO NOT hate you—you could even say, I love you. You’re my little brother.” I released his chin. “But if you tell anybody I told you that then I’ll have to kill you. It’s part of the big sister code.” We both laughed. I love you but I’ll kill you was such a silly concept.

  “Well, since you love me…” He nearly choked on the word, “…stop with the twerp, nickname, too, okay?”

  I offered a smile and luckily for me, he seemed agreeable today so I thought I should be too. “Okay. I’ll try to be better. But you have to try something for me.”

  His head popped up from the doodle he was creating during most of the conversation—a doodle that was really more of a masterpiece I could only dream of creating. His eyebrows furrowed in suspicion of my request.

  “What do you want me to do? Is it legal?” he asked.

  I snickered. It was such a ridiculous notion that the bad kid of the family was asking if the good kid’s request was legal. I refocused and became serious, letting out a heavy sigh. I almost hated to admit my request and even further the level of my concern for him.

  “You need to lay off drugs, okay?’

  “What?”

  “Seriously, you smoke way too much weed and drink way too much alcohol. I’m worried about you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Huh.”

  There was a long silence. He was considering my request yet started to explain his position on the subject instead.

  “You don’t know what it feels like, do you?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” I replied.

  “You don’t know what it’s like to need the high. You don’t know what it’s like to crave a buzz.”

  “No, I don’t, but I can’t imagine it’s that important.”

  “Well, it is. It’s how I cope. It takes the edge off.”

  “Yeah, right. A fifteen-year-old life has an edge.”

  “Yeah, it does. Everyone’s life has an edge.”

  “Listen. I hate to admit this, but we have a pretty pampered life. We have wealthy, loving, caring, parents who have given us a good life and despite moving us to this crap hole of a town and their new found need to be frugal, you and I have it pretty good.”

  “But you don’t have the pressure to live up to Dad’s expectations and I’ll never be who or what he wants me to be!”

  “Aaron, Dad is wonderful. It’s Mom you need to look out for.”

  “Wow. Funny how two people from the same family can have two completely different perspectives and live such completely different lives. You’re Dad’s princess who can do no wrong but as for me, I’m the screwed up mess he wishes he hadn’t made.”

  “No, Aaron. Don’t say that,” I pleaded. It hurt to hear him speak this way about Dad.

  “No. I have to say this. He constantly tells me how I’ve disappointed him. He’s on me about my grades and he’s on me about how I should be thinking about college already and…oh! Did I tell you that he said, and I quote—‘there is no way in hell you are majoring in art, young man.’”

  His voice cracked as he mimicked Dad’s voice. His feelings showed through far more than he had intended. His young mind had been in deep thoughts about so much and I never even knew it. I had no idea the degree to which he felt the pressure from Dad and how much he was hurt by thinking he was Dad’s greatest failure.

  “Aaron, I’m so sorry. I had no idea, but still—you’re messing yourself up with all the drugs and I worry about you. I mean, geez, I can’t seem to please Mom so I do know what you’re talking about when it comes to pressure but I don’t turn to drugs to cope.”

  “No, you just become a total sarcastic, b-otch.”

  I grimaced. I didn’t want anyone thinking that way of me. I knew I was sarcastic and I always thought sarcasm never hurt anyone, but right now, his message was echoing off the nearby mountain range. For the first time in our relationship, I was hearing him loud and clear. It was a cheesy expression, but it was true—words are powerful and they can hurt.

  “I’ll think about it,” said Aaron.

  I was so lost in pondering what Aaron just said to me that I didn’t quite catch his statement.

  “Wait. What did you just say?” I asked.

  “I said, I’ll think about it.”

  I smiled and was about to lean in for what I knew would be a semi-awkward hug but right at that moment, a gust of wind blew through, flapping the pages in his sketch pad. I caught a glimpse of something amazing.

  “Whoa! Who—is—that?” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen.

  “Umm…nothing…no one.” Aaron scrambled to push the pages back down.

  “Too late, Twer…” I stopped myself. “Aaron, come on. Let me get a better look.” I wrestled the sketch pad away from him and thumbed through the pages until I found what I was looking for.

  “Aaron, this is amazing.” I shook my head. It was a shame he didn’t understand the depth of his talent and in my heart-of-hearts, I knew he would one day dismiss Dad’s advice and be a starving artist. I thought that would be just fine, as long as he was alive and happy, I really didn’t care what profession he had. “Se
riously, you have no idea how good you are.”

  I was staring at a face I didn’t know. His drawing was the face of a very beautiful girl Aaron clearly had a crush on. He had sketched her in pencil and the drawing depicted so much detail that I felt certain I knew what she was thinking. Her smile was closed-mouthed and her eyes were looking off to the left. It was as if she was looking at something that pleased her. Every part of her face in the drawing had such amazing detail that even though I didn’t know her, I had to believe she must look exactly like his drawing. If her body matched her face, I had to assume she was very petite. Her features were delicate and although it was a pencil sketch and basically black and white, the way he drew her eyes led to me to believe she must have light colored eyes, like blue or green. What was colored was her hair. It was pastel blue and I just had to know more.

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  “Her name is Misty,” he replied.

  “Is her hair really pastel blue or is that you being creative?”

  He let out a small chuckle and replied, “Yeah, it is. Pretty edgy for Blue River, right? I’d say she’s almost a hipster”

  “Seriously? So she doesn’t wear all that cowgirl crap that everyone else does?”

  “Nope. She is totally different from most of the girls here, kind of like how Jack is totally different than every other guy you’ve dated.”

  I dismissed whatever point he thought he was making.

  He added, “Wanna know something else? She wears those really thick rimmed glasses that you and I call nerd glasses, but she actually needs them to see!” His voice became excited just talking about her.

  “That’s sort of funny. Have you actually met her or is this a distant, near stalker relationship you have going?” I asked.

  “I’m not stalking her! I met her in art class. I was looking at her watercolor painting when she walked up behind me and asked if I liked it. I was actually about to give her some tips on how she could use the watercolors a little better, but when I turned around and saw her I…well, let’s just say I suddenly didn’t know how to critique art anymore.”

  I gave a hearty laugh as I pictured Aaron fumbling for words while flushing cherry red.

  “I can’t believe I haven’t seen her before. It’s not a very big school,” I said.

  “That’s because you don’t notice anyone but yourself…and Jack.”

  “Totally not true.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “It’s because I don’t associate with sophomores.”

  “No, it’s because the entire sophomore class is afraid of you.”

  “Whatever,” I decided to let him think he’d won the argument. I gently punched him in the arm. “Are you going to ask her to homecoming?” I asked.

  He let out a sarcastic laugh followed by a heavy sigh. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t date my kind.”

  “And just what exactly is your kind?”

  “The pot smokin’ kind. I’m a stoner, remember?”

  “Then don’t be a stoner.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Aaron, you need to admit your problem to Mom and Dad, right after you admit it to yourself. Look around. Moving to Montana, living in this house, everything is because they want to help you.”

  “No way, and don’t you say anything either! Besides, I don’t even really think I have a problem!” he yelled. But something in his voice gave away that he was not that certain of his conviction.

  “Fine! Calm down. I won’t, but you need to try to do better. She just might be a good reason to try, don’t you think?” I pointed to his drawing of Misty.

  As he looked back at the drawing, he smiled and I could tell he liked her a lot. In fact, he was enamored with her. “Hey, I have a favor to ask of you. I’ll be right back,” I said as I stood up.

  Not waiting for a response from Aaron, I left his side and literally ran into the house and up to my bedroom. I grabbed a stack of photos I had taken over the summer. I was nearly skipping from the happiness this conversation had brought me. I was happy that Aaron was coming around to the idea of admitting he has an addiction and that he would consider fixing it.

  I returned to my spot on the lawn next to Aaron.

  “So what’s this favor you want to ask of me?” asked Aaron.

  “Don’t worry. It’s a favor you’ll enjoy. I know I have these photos to remember everybody by, but could you sketch a few of them for me? Whatever ones you want to do is fine by me. It doesn’t matter.” But it did matter; I secretly hoped he would sketch an entire book of Jack.

  “I’ll try. I sometimes have trouble with different faces and I do draw better stoned and since you just asked me to stop…” his voice trailed off.

  I gave him a lopsided smile then begged, “Oh, come on. Please?”

  He seemed to be considering the position I placed him in, but eventually, he surrendered. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise you anything.”

  “That’s all I ask.” I knew we weren’t just talking about the drawings. He wasn’t sure he could give up his addiction.

  “Thanks, twerp.” I laughed as I ruffled his hair once more.

  “You’re welcome, snoberella.”

  16. Homecoming Games

  It had been just over a week since my disagreement with Jack about my being, or not being, a spoiled brat—just over a week since I had deliberately argued with him while test driving my new Land Rover, which I was now calling “Rover.”

  The Blue River High School Homecoming was now upon us and for weeks, everyone had been talking about making floats for the parade and the royalty elections. I hadn’t thought twice about any of it. With one quick question, Mac changed that.

  “Addy!” Mac called out to me in the student parking lot. “Hey, you have a minute?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Well, I was wondering if…um…if you’d go to the homecoming dance with me?”

  I tripped on his words and fumbled through mine, “I—um—I—I don’t know, Mac. I don’t think—I just don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

  “Oh. Okay. Is this about Jack? I thought you two weren’t dating.”

  “It’s not about whether I’m dating Jack or not, which I’m not, it’s that I don’t want to date anyone while I live here. It’ll just be so much easier to leave this summer if I’m not attached…know what I mean?”

  “Oh, yeah. Totally. I’m off to college at the end of the year, too, Addy. I expect nothing, really. I just want to go as friends.” He paused before begging. “Come on, please. Besides, I was elected one of the homecoming king candidates. I’m potential royalty! You can’t let me go alone!”

  My expression must have looked as if I were pained because Mac asked if I was alright to which I replied, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Hey, can you let me think about it tonight?”

  He looked surprised at my response but said, “Sure, but let me know soon, okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure. I won’t keep you waiting. Thanks for being patient.”

  “No problem. I think you’re the bomb, Addy, so seriously, no pressure. Whatever you choose is fine.”

  We said our goodbyes and Mac left. I got in my car and played everything out in my mind. Okay, Mac is the quarterback. That holds some status, right? I can write home to Sheridan without embarrassment about attending tiny Blue River High School’s homecoming because I went with their local celebrity, the quarterback. He may even end up homecoming king. Blech. Who am I kidding? I don’t care about that crap, not like Sheridan does. I then cursed myself again for even caring about Sheridan’s opinion.

  My thoughts turned to Jack. Even though we’d recently had our test drive fallout, we had previously been together so much that people were wondering about what relationship status. But if my argument with him during the test drive hadn’t pushed him away, this surely would and for some sick reason, I wanted to keep Jack away from my heart. I concluded it couldn’t hurt to accept Mac’s invitation. Mac expected nothing
from me and had even said as much. I was so enveloped in my own thoughts that the tap on the window made me jump out of my seat.

  “Ah!” I yelped.

  It was Jack and he was smiling from ear-to-ear.

  “Oops! Sorry I scared you,” he apologized.

  “Jack, you scared me to death!” I held my hand over my heart.

  “I saw that. So, were you thirteen hundred miles away again?” he asked.