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by Jennifer Dean

“Paul, will you get the plates out of the kitchen?” my mom requested.

  “Sure,” my dad said. He gazed awkwardly at the wall before turning toward the kitchen.

  “I’ll help him, Angelia,” my uncle volunteered.

  She looked up from lighting the seventeen candles she must have placed around the cake while I was outside. You could tell she saw the problem with my uncle’s suggestion as much as I did. But then maybe it would be good to stick them in a small area together. Maybe.

  “Thanks, Greg,” she said almost reluctantly.

  I could feel Sean suddenly at my shoulders with a gentle squeeze. I closed my eyes and sighed. He had always been good at observing me, and I was grateful for the release of tension.

  “You have no idea how good it is to have you around again.”

  “Likewise,” he said.

  When my mom lit the last candle on top, my dad came out with the plates. My uncle followed him with nothing. From my dad’s furrowed brow and uncle’s disappointed droop, all was not forgiven. Great, I thought. Let’s just cut the cake.

  Once settling themselves around me, everyone began to sing in uneven tones. Well, everyone except for Sean. His voice was actually quite beautiful. He leaned in closer, almost like he knew I wanted to just hear his perfect harmony. I took the time to think, Let this tension dissolve, before stepping forward to blow out the small flames. It took me a few breaths before the candles were all out.

  “Emma, babe, you get first choice. Which piece do you want?”

  “She wants the bottom,” Sean said.

  I turned to see his wink. “How do you know I don’t want a top piece?”

  “Because I know you,” he said. “You want the piece that is easiest for mom to maneuver.”

  I rolled my eyes but it was true. I wanted the bottom for convenience, but sometimes I didn’t realize how open I really was to him. When she handed me my piece, she turned to Sean, ready to cut again. “Oh, he’ll have a top piece,” I said with confidence. I nodded with my nose slightly pointed upward.

  “Actually none for me, Mom.”

  My fork froze as I turned to him with narrowed eyes.

  “But you always love cake.”

  “I don’t really have a liking for it anymore.”

  “When did you become just a big health guru? Do you still just drink water too?”

  “Yup. You should try it.”

  I shook my head feeling slightly self-conscious.

  “Do I get to see your new room?” he asked.

  Unfortunately for me, the subtle change of subject worked. “Oh yeah. I forgot you haven’t seen it.”

  I put my cake down on the table and began leading him down the hall. His steps were so quiet, almost nonexistent—I wasn’t even sure if he was behind me, at least not until I turned to point as I entered my room.

  “Well, this is it.” I gestured my hands up toward the ceiling before dropping them outward. I felt like Vanna White. “Like it?”

  “Going for the blank look I see.”

  “Didn’t you know it’s the in thing this year? White is the new color.”

  We chuckled simultaneously. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do anything yet, but I knew my mom would probably ask me eventually. For now I would enjoy the simplicity.

  I turned my head to catch Sean’s focused gaze on me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’ve missed you more than I realized,” Sean said.

  Something in his voice made me think he wished that he didn’t. But I couldn’t say the same. “Oh, I definitely realized how much I’ve missed you. Don’t you think you could have visited at least once?” He narrowed his eyes with disapproval of my suggestion. “How would that have looked?”

  He was right on that one. As much as I wish it didn’t matter, Sean refusing to move and then popping in for a visit wouldn’t have gone down well. The same for why he couldn’t move back in with us now that we lived in Washington again. I wanted more than anything to be able to just knock on his door down the hall like when we were kids. But I had to be realistic. If the tension today said anything, it was nothing compared to the constant white elephant that would be in the room. My mom and I would have to be the middle man every time they were in the room together. No thanks. I would just deal with the ten-minute drive to my uncle’s when I needed to see Sean.

  “So can I give you a ride to school?” I felt pretty proud of my new wheels. And what a better way to have an excuse to see Sean more.

  “Of course. Now that you’re back, I could always use a chauffeur,” Sean said.

  There was laughter in his voice as he pulled a small book from my shelf. I knew from the slightly yellow pages what it was. I walked over to where I was standing only a few inches from the copy of A Wrinkle in Time, the same copy Sean had given me from the day we parted three years ago.

  “I still remember that day,” I said.

  I would never forget that day. Not because I would never forget how much pain I carried. But because of how that book had been what pulled me away from it all. It was the day I had discovered just how much reading could do. It had been the first on my shelf, and now it was the first of many.

  “Me too. Although things seemed so different then,” he said.

  “Like we would never see each other again?”

  “Right,” he said.

  His eyes traveled to my window, focusing within his own thoughts, almost seeming to wrestle with them.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  He looked back to me with a grin.

  “Just seems strange that you’re already seventeen.”

  “Well, technically I’m still sixteen,” I said protruding my chin.

  “Yes.” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s cherish these last hours of getting to see you sixteen. Then tomorrow I’ll face the inevitable and give you your present.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

  “I look forward to it,” I said. I laid my head back against his body, wrapping both arms around his waist. “But for now, I’ll just enjoy what I got today.”

  The next morning left me groggy from a weird night’s sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I would find myself in Dallas, a place I loathed for three years. Once I finally convinced myself to get some sleep, it was past 3:00 am. All hope for feeling refreshed on my first day was lost.

  As I rubbed my eyes, in hopes of rubbing away any exhaustion, I almost missed the white poster taped to my bathroom door. happy 17th birthday emma was written with pink block letters. I grinned at my mom’s art as I thought about the actual words. Officially seventeen today.

  Being seventeen didn’t feel specifically meaningful to me. Of course, I couldn’t resist the need to check the mirror for any gained wrinkle in my skin, one of those moments that made me roll my eyes before splashing water on my face.

  The house was quiet, and I knew that my parents had already left. I was happy to know that my mom was once again doing the one thing she loved more than cooking. Teaching. In Texas, she took a break but was never satisfied staying home. I knew she enjoyed getting to see me more, but her heart was still with the kids in Washington. I guessed, like me, she always hoped she would come back someday.

  I quickly devoured some Apple Jacks before rinsing and placing my bowl into the sink. I grabbed my brown coat, throwing my arms inside, before swinging my backpack over my right shoulder and finally locking the front door. I had a smile on my lips as I walked to my Jetta, a smile that had been missing for three years. It was like a long-lost friend that I was glad to welcome back.

  I kept sneaking glances at the wrapped lavender box in Sean’s hand.

  “You know it’s cruel to make me wait till we get to school,” I said.

  His lips parted with a slightly amused chuckle. “I know.”

  I might have been disobeying the speed limit, but finally I pulled into the Washington High School parking lot. I didn’t waste time looking for a spot, only parking in the first empty space I saw. Thankf
ully, it didn’t seem that far off from the building. But it wasn’t exactly a huge parking lot either.

  Of course I ignored all that once I turned off the engine and threw my keys into the cup holder. I turned to Sean with open hands, watching him shake his head at my eager impatience.

  “Have at it, birthday girl,” he said.

  As soon as he placed the box in my hands, I watched him push a blank CD into my stereo. I untied the white ribbon and shook the lavender box subtly. When I lifted off the top I removed the covered tissue to find a note lying gently on top of a green book, covered in a plastic dust jacket wrap. I recognized Sean’s small neat penmanship on the note.

  Em,

  You have always meant so much to me from the very moment I met you. How wonderful it is to have met someone who thinks I’m just as unforgettable. I couldn’t resist sharing a collection of all my unforgettable years with you.

  Happy 17th Birthday!

  Love Always,

  Sean

  I swallowed a few times to dissolve the small burn in my throat. Looking down I saw the scrapbook title that made my lips curve.

  Emma

  &

  Sean

  The Unforgettable Years

  My eyes caught the picture in between the words. It was the picture taken on the day I was brought home. There was Sean, a one-year-old sitting next to me, ready to protect me from the world. The very picture spoke of how we were.

  I must have found myself within the moment because I never felt or saw Sean grab my keys. But now I could hear music coming through my speakers and see my keys dangling from behind my steering wheel. My attention stayed as I realized it wasn’t just music but an old favorite of mine. “Unforgettable.” A Nat King Cole classic I had avoided listening to because it reminded me too much of Sean.

  Now, it was getting harder to suppress the wetness in my eyes that formed with each page I turned. I tried to pretend I was scratching the corner of my eye, but I don’t think I fooled him. Finally, I found that the last page was stenciled with color but still incomplete. No photos.

  “Is this for now?” I asked.

  “Yup. I wanted some recent memories to finish it off.”

  I wanted that too since the last memory captured was my worst. My mom had managed to snap a photo of Sean and me a few hours before we left Washington. Not exactly a happy moment to look back on. But now we would change that. I grinned to that thought as I delicately placed the scrapbook in my backseat before grabbing my keys and following Sean’s lead into the parking lot.

  “Wait,” I said.

  Sean looked back at me as I stood near the left taillight, digging through my backpack. I had forgotten about the digital camera my mom had bought me for Christmas—she placed in my backpack last night. It was an opportunity I was grateful to have now. I pulled it out with pride, watching the amusement of Sean’s face before he walked back to me.

  “Sean!” Sean turned his neck to the call of his name. It was Nick Fuller, a childhood friend of Sean’s and almost second brother to me. He was walking toward us with another of Sean’s friends, Ross Littleton. I stepped to the right to reveal myself to them. Instantly, there was a friendly grin plastered on both of their lips. “Good to see you back,” Nick said.

  “Good to be back,” I said with a grin.

  “Taking pictures?” Ross said as he pointed to the camera in my hands.

  “I was going to get one of Sean and me,” I said.

  “Here, let me take it,” Nick said. His hand was already extended with invitation. I handed him the camera before stepping back to the edge of my Jetta. Sean followed, placing his left arm around my shoulder before I wrapped mine around his waist and laid my head straight against his shoulder. “Smile.” My lips parted on the command with a curve and natural rise of my cheeks.

  “Thanks,” I said. Nick handed the camera back to my waiting hand, letting me place it back into my front pocket.

  “No problem,” he said with a wink.

  As the four of us walked into the school together, I couldn’t help looking around. It was strange to notice people suddenly three years older. It was like a Twilight Zone. I left when we were all ending our last year of middle school, and now we were entering the second semester of junior year in high school. Sure, I didn’t really like coming halfway in, but I wasn’t going to complain about it either.

  “What do you have first period?” Sean asked.

  “Uh . . .” I reached back into my backpack, feeling the light slip of paper before pulling it out. I grimaced. “Oh, Chemistry with Pace in 112.”

  “That’s down this hallway and the last door on the right.” I watched his left index finger point straight, grateful for the instruction. I may have recognized the outside, but the inside seemed like a maze. Not because it was so huge but because it was just unfamiliar. “And beware because she’s a fan of pop quizzes.”

  “Fantastic,” I said.

  He grinned before turning back to answer one of Ross’s questions. I reached around to place my schedule inside my backpack, but when I tried to zip it up again, it got hung. Sometimes I really hated zippers. Especially in the moment when I tugged and the momentum forced two of my pens to fly to the other side of the hall. I sighed with frustration, but before I had even attempted to move, I noticed a blonde boy bending to pick them up and moving back across to me. Now upright he looked just as tall as Sean as he held out the two pens within his clenched fist. I took them swiftly but paused embarrassingly as I made my way up to his alluringly bright, emerald green eyes.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He made a subtle grin before giving a slight nod next to me. Turning my neck, I now noticed Sean stood next to me again. Ross and Nick had left. I looked back down at the pens in my hand and back up, only to notice the boy was gone. I looked left to right, expecting to see the back of him but found no such person.

  “Where did he go?” I asked puzzled.

  “Bathroom I think,” Sean said indifferently.

  “Who was that?”

  “Liam Alexander,” Sean said.

  He moved his hand down to yank on the zipper of my backpack with one tug before it came loose. I placed the pens inside the small open pouch before zipping it back and swinging it around my shoulder. As we walked down the hall I scrunched my lips. Liam wasn’t exactly a name I heard a lot. I liked that and I didn’t know why.

  “I’ll see you after school.” Sean paused with a crooked smile and raised eyebrow. “Unless you want to sit with me at lunch.”

  I rolled my eyes to the open invitation. “Not that I wouldn’t mind, but I am hoping I’m not that forgotten.”

  He smirked before heading off to Spanish. I glanced over to the direction of the boys’ bathroom again only to shrug with disappointment. As I headed to my locker, I carried a swarm of nerves. Even though I had lived in Washington for most of my life it didn’t matter. For most, I was still the new girl.

  2. Assumptions

  You never prepare for the moment when it happens, and yet here I was. Why does it always happen when no one is around? I really hated lockers or the combination locks that felt more like prison guards to them.

  I began to feel the swim of panic travel up my chest. It was like trying to get dressed in a hurry when you were already late. The more frustrated I became, the less I could concentrate. I sighed, ready to simply punch the locker open. As I debated the realistic situation that would probably only bruise or possibly facture my hand, my eye caught sight of someone coming from around the corner. It was the boy from this morning. God what was his name? My mind felt like a rotating telephone catalog, cross-referencing different names for the male species. Something with an L, I thought Sean said. Liam! Yes, because I remembered how much I liked his name. Yes, Liam Alexander. Now I remembered.

  I watched as he stopped at the drinking fountain near the boys’ bathroom. I needed to ask fast before he—crap! After a few seconds gulp of water, he had gone into the bathroom before
I had time to think the word. I looked back to my locker, twirling the combination randomly as I bobbed my head left to right. What would I have said anyway? “Hey, could you help me with my locker because I’m an idiot and can’t turn a simple combination lock.”

  I sighed with mockery of my low voice. I knew I didn’t have the nerve to ask anyway. I would just keep trying until fifth period was over. That was if I didn’t get some detention for being out in the hall. They didn’t still have hall monitors, did they?

  “Locker trouble?”

  Naturally, I grabbed my chest to prevent it from jumping out from fright. “Oh jeez,” I said. I had barely managed to hold on to my books in my left arm. I glanced up to see it was Liam Alexander.

  “Sorry. I didn’t intend to frighten you,” he said. I could have sworn I never saw him even leave the bathroom. But I guess I wasn’t paying attention after I began talking to myself. “Do you need help with that?” he asked. His head tilted, gesturing toward my locker.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “Well, seeing as you are the only one standing in the hallway turning that combination lock with what appears only mere frustration—”

  “A simple yes,” I said cutting off his words.

  My eyebrows rose with a small slice of irritation. Sometimes I preferred when people just used simplicity with their response. Anything else was a waste of minutes.

  “Would you like some help?” he asked.

  There felt like so many things I wanted to say, but I could only come up with one as my lips parted. “If you don’t mind.”

  He shook his head once. “Not at all. What’s the combination?”

  “2-2-9,” I said. The nine came out hesitantly. I looked down with a grimace. The need to protect my locker felt somewhat stupid. Who would really want to commit locker theft anyway? There aren’t exactly a lot of items that we can store. Nothing worth stealing anyway.

  As my eyes shifted up I noticed his own back on me. He had defiantly noticed the awkwardness. But the glance was only brief before he turned back to twist the lock, pulling it down and out of the latch hole with only his fingers. Within seconds, his hand had pulled up the latch and popped open the metal locker. He stepped back, gesturing with his right hand for me to go ahead.

 

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