“You have plans?” Paul asks.
“Plans?” I choke on the word. I have nothing, only failed plans.
“Plans for your birthday?” Paul’s voice is quiet. It normally is, but I think I hear something else in his quiet. I hope it’s remorse.
“Not really,” I say. Paul and I were supposed to celebrate my eighteenth birthday together. “I’m doing something with Nora.”
“Okay, I…” Paul takes a breath.
I barge in, not letting him finish. I’m not interested in hearing what he’s doing or anything else. I don’t have the strength right now. “How about we plan how we’re going to test our ideas?”
I poise my pencil over the notebook, ready to take notes and make a plan I can accomplish. I’ll act professional with Paul. I was professional with Dylan when I had to train him after our breakup, I can do the same with Paul. Dylan and I ended up being friends, and maybe Paul and I can end up being more than friends the more we work together.
After a night of lessons, I check my phone in the locker room before heading home.
Jacob: Can you pick me up later?
Me: What time? And from where?
I zip my coat and throw my bag over my shoulder before Jacob gets back to me.
Jacob: 10. Andrea’s
No. No. No.
I plop on my rear to the wooden bench and stare at Jacob’s text. What is he doing with Andrea? I start another text, but in a rash choice, I make a phone call.
“Hi, Ashley,” Dylan answers. He sounds out of breath. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“Is it?” I say, trying not to think about why his breathing is labored. “Do you know what your sister is doing?”
“Ahh…” Dylan draws out his answer, like he’s trying to think of what to guess. “I don’t know. I think she’s having some friends over to watch a movie.”
“So, more than one friend?” I ask, my heart rate taking a dive.
“They’re friends. Nothing more.” Dylan knows I’m worried about Jacob.
“Thank goodness for that.” I exhale. “But her being friends with him still concerns me.”
“Tell him what happened to you and let him decide.”
Dylan always surprises me. Always. It’s like he’s bumped into me on the running track, and I’m lucky I don’t drop my phone after his statement.
“Okay?” I’m unsure, but if Dylan is telling me to. “Sure, I will,” I say in a more confident tone.
“I’m headed home from work. I’m guessing you are too. Do you want to come over for a bit?”
I kick my turquoise Converse shoes against the tile floor. The shoes are close to the color of Dylan’s eyes. “Not tonight,” I say. “But I’ll be over around ten to get Jacob.”
“Okay,” Dylan says. “But I’ll see you tomorrow morning at eight?”
“Yep,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
I hang up with Dylan and trudge out to my car in the side parking lot of my school. I hate this parking lot now. It reminds me of Paul. I see him in every little thing. Places, donuts, cars, hats, movies, clothes, and even parking lots. Something always reminds me of him, of his looks, of his touch, of his words. I’m turning into the sappy lovelorn girl I always thought was pathetic, but I get it now. I understand the feeling. We’re human, and we have emotions, and those emotions come from our relationships, circumstances, and moods. Currently my relationship is destroyed, my circumstance is a broken heart, and my mood is glum, which equates to my strong feelings of sentimental sadness.
I’m still moping when I pick Jacob up at ten. I don’t even go to the door. I text Jacob from my car in Dylan’s driveway.
“How was your night?” I ask when he settles in the seat and shuts the door.
“It was fun,” Jacob says and buckles his seatbelt.
I put my hand on the gear shifter and look at my younger brother. He’s changed quite a bit since he started his freshman year. His voice is sometimes gravelly, and in that stage between squeaks and deep sounds. His face has thinned out, whether from swimming or maturing, but he no longer has his cute baby cheeks. He has the profile of a young man.
“How’d you and Andrea become friends?” I ask, putting the shifter into reverse.
Jacob shrugs. “Probably because of you and Dylan.” I keep the groan I want to do inside of me. “But we have classes together.”
“So…” I start my question the same way my brother does when he asks something crazy. “Did you or Andrea start the friendship?”
Jacob shrugs again, indifferent to the conversation I’m trying to have with him. “I don’t know. How does any friendship start?”
“With blackmail,” I reply. I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I do.
Jacob wrinkles his nose. “Blackmail?” He then snorts. “Is that how you’re friends with Dylan, your ex-boyfriend? Because you’re blackmailing him?”
I’ll ignore that comment. “What does Andrea say about us?”
“Ash!” Jacob lets loose with a frustrated noise. “Not everything is about you.”
I freeze in my seat, my arms rigid, and my hands on the steering wheel. My brother’s blunt comment cuts through me, and I shudder because he’s right. I have made this all about me, and I don’t need to tell Jacob about Andrea. The past is in the past. It can be left behind, and I haven’t been doing a good job of it. Nora is right, I need to move on.
SEVENTEEN
It’s April first. April Fool’s Day and my eighteenth birthday. My mom always tells me I’m the best April Fool’s joke, because I was due to be born on April twenty-first, and surprised her and my now absent father, by arriving early.
“Happy birthday, substitute bestie!” Dylan’s face is wide with a smile. He stands in the shallow end of a lane in the pool at the gym. It’s our first day of training together for the triathlon.
“Thanks.” I take a seat on the deck, dangle my legs in the water of the lane Dylan’s in, and shove my hair into a swim cap. While lying in bed last night, I resolved to be better. I’ll stop moping, and not be the sad girl because of a boy. I’m going to try to move forward, and today that’s in a pool. “I’m glad we’re swimming first,” I say.
“It’s your birthday, we might as well do your favorite. Next Saturday we’ll run on the treadmill,” Dylan says.
I groan and finish tucking my hair in the swim cap. “A treadmill? Running in circles is bad enough. Now we have to run in place?”
“When it’s with me, it can’t be that bad.”
I slug Dylan in the shoulder after I jump in the pool. “I suppose you can entertain me by doing your smoldering look to the people running by us on the track.”
He does his smoldering look right now, which makes me laugh and earns him another slug on his solid shoulder. “You need to make sure you’re training during the week too,” he tells me.
“Sure thing, coach,” I say. “Speaking of working out, what have you been doing?” I raise my eyebrows at Dylan and let him notice me glancing at his physique. I can’t recall the last time I saw him in a swimsuit, since we’ve been teaching lessons at different pools. Dylan was buff when he fake dated me, but his muscles have become more pronounced and sculpted.
Dylan flexes his biceps and chest for me, indulging in his ego-filled self. “You think I’m looking good?”
I snort. If we weren’t such good friends, I’d probably be drooling over him. “You should be more concerned with whether your overgrown muscles work good.”
Dylan’s hands drop in the pool and a shadow passes over his face. “That’s why I’m working out. I need to be able to keep up when the water polo season starts.” He puts his goggles on, and I can’t see his pretty eyes. He’s suddenly gone quiet. Dylan dunks in the water to his shoulders and looks like he’s getting ready to head off for a lap. I hope I didn’t break him.
&n
bsp; “You okay?” I ask and step in front of him.
“Sure.” Dylan’s lips twitch and he pushes a lock of curls off his face.
“Dylan.” I cup his wet cheek in my hand to get his attention. He keeps his eyes off me. “Hey,” I say. I dunk in the water and make my face level with his. “Dylan,” I say his name again and he finally turns his eyes to me. “I’ve seen you play. You’re going to be fine. Remember why you’re playing water polo. Don’t get caught up in the pressure.”
“I know,” Dylan says in a flat voice. He’s a far cry from his confident self-image. He’s acting like me.
“You’re awesome,” I say. “That’s why you got a scholarship.”
“Sure.” Dylan’s dimple is lost in his rigid cheek and his lips are a thin line of discouragement.
Oh, my. I have broken him.
“Come on,” I encourage, my chin dipping in the water. “Where’s the guy who used to act all Dylanie with me? The confident guy who knows how awesome he is?”
Dylan glances at me again. “I thought you didn’t want me hitting on you or teasing you.”
I blow bubbles in the water, a skill I teach with my younger swim lesson classes. “Don’t tell anyone, because it will wreck my reputation as the girl who can’t talk to boys, but I kind of miss you being Dylanie with me.”
The edges of Dylan’s lips curl up into a grin.
“You’re right. I am awesome since I’m the only guy you can talk to like a normal human being.” Dylan’s mouth is just above the water line, and his face is only inches from mine.
I flick water at him with my fingertips. Unlike Paul, it doesn’t take Dylan long to flip the switch from down in the dumps to high in the sky. “So awesome,” I repeat. “And such a jerk.”
Dylan splashes me back. “I always knew you thought I’m awesome. And because I’m so awesome and it’s your birthday, I’m going to let you pick what we swim.”
My finger taps on my chin, like I’m coming up with an evil plan. “I’m thinking whatever we do, you’re going to have to swim it all butterfly. Then I might have half a chance of keeping up with you.”
“Don’t worry.” Dylan grins, his sultry one. “I’ll let you catch me. It’s your birthday.”
“Guess I’m a lucky girl then.” I mimic Dylan’s grin.
“I thought I was the lucky one.” Dylan dunks under the water before I can say anything else. His strong body pushes off the wall and streamlines through the water. He always has to be the last one to get a word in.
Swimming with Dylan is the distraction I need. I love to swim, and it feels good to kick and glide through the water. It really is the perfect activity for my birthday because it’s the one thing I feel natural at. Without the pressure to defend a state title, swimming is the one activity I can do without worrying. It’s just me, the water, and my substitute best friend. Swimming makes me feel like I don’t need to fear the waves, because I can trust my ability to get through them. I wish I could do the same thing in life.
The internal demons that break me wait at home. This time it’s a donut. The clear container with the gift from Paul lies on the counter of the kitchen island when I return home from swimming.
“Happy birthday, Ash!” Mom plants a kiss on my forehead while I eye the birthday donut from Paul. I secretly hoped Jacob would eat it while I was at the gym. That kid can’t control himself around donuts, but he probably thinks he’s doing me a birthday favor by not eating it. “Would you like some bacon and pancakes?” Mom asks.
“Yes, please,” I say and grab the container with the donut.
I open the drawer where the garbage can is and my hand hovers over it. What am I doing? I want to throw the donut away, and I don’t want to. It’s a gift from Paul. We may not be together anymore, and my heart may be broken, but maybe this small, sweet gift is a stitch in mending it. Or maybe it’s just a way for Paul to coat his guilt in sugar and make himself feel better about hurting me.
My hand gets bumped and the container falls to the floor. “You’re not throwing away a perfectly good donut, are you?” Jacob stands next to me and points at the donut.
“Um.” I shake my head, trying to clear the thoughts from it. Jacob bends over, picks up the container, and holds it out to me. The donut still looks good after taking a tumble, unlike me. I’m a mess after taking a spill. I shake my head again. “You can have it.” I push the container back at Jacob.
“Thanks!” Jacob breaks into the container before I can change my mind.
“Jacob!” Mom’s voice has a scolding tone.
“What?” His mouth is full of donut. “I thanked her.”
Mom raises her eyebrows at Jacob and points her mixing spoon at me. “What is today?”
“April Fool’s,” Jacob answers. He takes another bite of the donut and gets a groan from Mom. “I know what day it is.” Jacob grins, with donut crumbs coating his lips, and he wraps an arm around me. He’s shot up in height and is taller than me now. “Happy birthday, Ash.”
Perhaps the perfect birthday is being surrounded by family and real friends, the ones who love you no matter what, even if you’re a mess.
EIGHTEEN
“This is going to be fun!” Nora grabs my hand and tugs me through the sliding doors of a large store. “We’ll get the jellybeans and some more snacks, and then head back to my place to watch a movie.”
Nora’s curls bounce with her high energy steps and it makes me smile to see how excited she is. Her exuberance is amplified tonight, and I find it hard to believe it’s because of my birthday. It’s probably the quietest eighteenth birthday celebration ever. I don’t feel like celebrating, and even if I did, it’d still be a quiet birthday. I’m not much of a big social partier.
Nora drags me to the candy aisle, where we look for the gourmet jellybeans. I’m focused on the colorful bags on the shelves when I hear a familiar voice.
“Happy birthday, Ash!” Taylor wraps me in a side hug.
“Taylor!” I’m genuinely surprised to see her. “What’re you doing here?”
“Getting you a birthday present.” Taylor waves a bright box with jellybeans on it, in front of my face.
“You should join us for a movie,” Nora says, a curious smile on her face.
“Sure! Thanks!” Taylor’s smile matches Nora’s, and it’s not hard to figure them out.
“You guys planned this.” I try to make my face look angry, but I’m failing. The corners of my mouth edge up in a smile.
“This is one night I don’t have to lie to my mom.” Taylor links her arm through mine. “Let’s go find some drinks.”
Nora leads the way and Taylor guides me to the next aisle over. If this is what it takes to move forward, I’m glad I have friends like these to guide me.
“Ash!” Sabrina stands in the aisle, a twelve pack of soda in her arms. “What a surprise! Happy birthday!”
“Sabrina,” I say and then someone else steps out from behind her. “And Dylan. This is a surprise.” I eye the two standing together in the soda aisle. Dylan’s dimple is deep in his right cheek and he holds snack packages in his arms.
“Surprise, Ashley,” Dylan says.
“What a coincidence to see you here,” I say, as I narrow my eyes at Nora. She’s bouncing on her toes and loving every minute of her obviously well-crafted plan. I can only wonder what’s next.
“Such a coincidence my fake girlfriend and I happen to be standing in the same aisle as you on your birthday,” Dylan says.
“Hey, everyone! What’re you all doing here?” Nick asks.
I only roll my eyes as Nora’s boyfriend walks into the aisle. His hands are full of more snacks.
“Anyone else?” I ask Nora, as Taylor giggles.
“Let’s go check out,” Nora says, grabbing my other arm and sandwiching me between her and Taylor. “We’ve got a birthday to celebra
te.”
When we all exit the drink aisle, we run into more people.
“You didn’t invite them, did you?” I ask Nora under my breath.
“No!” Nora clutches my arm. “This is like a real April Fool’s joke.”
“You’re telling me,” I say. It’s worse than a joke. I seriously have the worst luck ever.
“Hey, everyone,” Tara says, her eyes roaming over all of us.
“Hi, Ash,” Bridgette says. Scorn is permanently on her face every time she sees me. Thankfully, I don’t see Bridgette much anymore. We don’t have any classes together this trimester. She must be over the moon Paul broke up with me. I’m not standing in her way anymore, and she can pursue him without tearing me down. I wonder if Tara and Bridgette are headed to see Paul.
“Dylan,” Tara says, her voice changing into a flirty one. “How’re you doing? I haven’t seen you in a long time. I miss your parties.”
“Hey, Tara.” Dylan falters for a second, but Sabrina picks up on his desperate eye look and wraps her arm around his waist. He grins back at his fake date. “Have you met my girlfriend, Sabrina?”
Tara eyes Sabrina with a sneer. “We’ve met before. I didn’t know you two were together.”
“Oh, we are,” Sabrina answers, her white teeth showing with her huge smile. “How long has it been, babe?”
I roll my eyes at Sabrina’s use of “babe.” That’s what those two do and they pull off the fake dating well. Dylan’s muscular arm wraps around Sabrina’s shoulders and the two appear quite comfortable with each other.
“We’ve been together off and on for about ten weeks.” Dylan smiles at Tara. Ten weeks of the same girl is significant for a guy with Dylan’s reputation of being a player.
Cycling Downhill: A Sweet Young Adult Romance (Love is a Triathlon Book 3) Page 9