“It was,” Lila says gravely, “the loss of a boy who gave a great artistic touch to our pranks.”
“Not for lack of ideas,” Jasper says. He reaches forward to grab another hot dog and bun.
“And everyone still gets angry with us,” Ren adds.
Thomas bobs his head. “But only for the ones they know for sure was us.”
Beyond rehashing their antics, they continue to catch up for a year missed with Jasper. During breakfast, they hadn’t included me very much, probably because they were focused on the friend they hadn’t seen in so long. Now, though, they begin to inquire about me too.
“You haven’t graduated yet?” Ren asks, the only other graduate of the group. Lila and Thomas, like me, have one more year of high school.
“Not yet.”
“And you don’t want to leave Boston for college?” Lila asks, eyes wide. She obviously wants to get out of her town once she finishes high school, unlike me.
“Not really. It’s my home.”
“And you have a friend named Georgia?” Thomas asks after I’ve mentioned that she has a funny story behind her name.
“She also has a cat named Adam,” Jasper says.
And here, they stop talking over themselves. The last sound is Ren’s plastic fork scraping against the paper plate, which, although doesn’t have the same effect as steel, is nerving all the same. They all blink at me.
“I was five,” I defend, and the memories bring me back. April was a lot older and more into dogs than she was cats. Our parents, however, decided a cat was a lot less work to take care of. Therefore, an angry April decided to shun all things to do with the cat, and the official namer duty fell onto my shoulders.
“Most five year olds name their cats Fluffy or Pepper or Mr. Puffballs,” Lila says.
“Mr. Puffballs?” I ask.
Ren jerks his thumb at Thomas, to which Thomas says defensively, “I was four! Younger than June, anyway.”
“Anyway,” I say slowly, hiding a smile behind my hand. “I don’t know.”
Ren blinks again. “That’s it? I don’t know.’”
“Well…” Remembering the story, I feel my face start to heat up.
“Oh!” Lila pumps a fist in the air. “Embarrassing stories are the best!”
“It’s not embarrassing,” I object.
In his chair near me, Jasper leans forward. “I gotta hear this.”
Their eyes plead with me for the story, and I think it really isn’t so bad. I was, after all, only five years old. “All right, so I was in kindergarten, and there was this boy named Adam. And, I don’t know, he was one of my first friends. I thought he was awesome.”
“Hold on.” Lila puts a hand up. “Are you saying you named your cat after your first crush?”
“I was five!”
“Well, kids have their infatuations,” Thomas says. “Ask Ren about Lila.”
“It was a very odd experience to have a boy fawn over me in the first grade,” Lila says. “Odd, but also enlightening to know I could have so much power over someone.”
Ren’s face is almost as red as mine. “It was a really long time ago and bad judgment on my part. Lila is a tyrant.”
“Hey!”
Ren motions for me to go on.
I can’t hide my amusement this time, and through laughter, I manage to get it out. “There’s not much else to tell. During lunch in the cafeteria one day, we were under the table, and he kissed me on the cheek, which was, you know, a big deal when you’re five years old—”
“Scandalous,” Lila says.
“—and that weekend we got my cat.”
“You named him Adam?” Thomas asks.
“I named him Adam.”
Ren almost bounces in his spot on the blanket, eagerly. “Did you tell him?”
I groan. “Of course, I did! I’ve never been able to live it down. We’re still in the same circle of friends, and he never lets me forget that I named my cat after him.”
“Wait. Wait,” Jasper cuts in. “Are we talking about Adam O’Shea? You named your cat after Adam O’Shea?”
Lila, in her chair between Jasper and me, looks from him to me to him again. “Who’s Adam O’Shea?”
Jasper looks ready and eager to spill on who Adam O’Shea is, but then he glances at me, and surprisingly, he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he says only, “He’s our school’s biggest football star at the moment.”
Lila whistles. “He’s gotta be some big shot for a cat to be named after!”
He is also, I think silently, Melanie’s boyfriend. Or at least he was until two weeks ago.
“So,” I say casually, moving on. I look at Thomas. “Tell me this story about Mr. Puffballs.”
The conversations don’t stop. They flow like the canyon’s river, swift and easy, and our laughter fills up the space between the cliff walls. And when the hot dogs are gone and an hour more has passed, Lila and Ren lead me up the cliff again while Thomas stays behind with Jasper. I lose count of how many times I go down the line, and we only stop when dinner is announced. The sun dips into the horizon, and we reclaim our spots around the pit eating junk food while Ren tries to fish for minnows. While Jasper is lighting the fire and Lila decides that today will be the day she out-fishes Ren, I lean over to Thomas and say, “You guys do this a lot?”
“Come out to Sandy Place?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Not as much as we used to,” he explains. “But when Jasper is here, we always come.”
I mull over that for a moment. “Does Jasper wish he never moved?”
Thomas is silent for a moment. He lifts his shoulders, lets them fall. “He hated that he had to leave at first. He left the summer before high school started. After the first year, he seemed to like it. He met some new friends and got used to the city, but after the sophomore year started, things got… I don’t know. It has to do with some girl he met at school.”
“Yeah?” I say. “Maybe I know her.”
“Maybe,” Thomas agrees, reaching for his phone. Clicking on it, he goes on, “Well, I guess she was interested in him, and he wasn’t into her. She turned nasty. Started making up all these rumors about him.” He raises his phone, a picture pulled up. “Know her?”
And I freeze. I stare at the photo.
It’s an older photo. Jasper is younger by a few years, his hair cut so short there’s no bleached color to it. He’s wearing more colors, though his ensemble is still dark in tone. He’s smiling, standing next to a girl with long brown hair that’s wavy and shiny, her smile matching his. His arm is around her shoulders, and she’s leaning against a counter in someone’s kitchen. It’s not her kitchen. I know that right away because I know what her kitchen looks like. Her brown eyes stare into the camera, earnest and happy. I know the look in her gaze when they’re not, even when she’s plastered a smile onto her face.
“I think her name is Mel,” Thomas goes on. “Pretty sure, anyway. So, do you? Recognize her, I mean.”
All I can do is stare. My blood is frozen, and I hope my face hasn’t gone pale. I open my mouth, but no words come out. And thankfully, I’m saved by Lila.
“Hey guys!” she shouts. “I got a little something for partying tonight!”
I jerk around, away from Thomas, and turn my full attention to Lila, who’s holding her backpack in one hand and a bottle of what looks like Captain Morgan in the other.
The shock still runs through me. I could definitely use some of that right now.
Fifteen
“Tell me their stories.”
Lila’s brought some beer along with the rum, claiming to have taken them from her sister’s stash. Rachel doesn’t know yet, though she may by now, and Lila assures us that she won’t mind. The sun has set by the time we open the rum, and the energy of our day has calmed down a bit. We settle again around the campfire and continue talking.
But I’m silent. I can’t wrap my mind around the photo Thomas showed me.
If he h
adn’t shown me the picture, I wouldn’t have for one moment believed what he was saying. I may not have even related him calling the girl Mel with my friend Melanie. There are a lot of people who go by the nickname at school, and because Melanie hates Jasper so much, I would’ve never even considered it. So how could it be true?
I know without a doubt that it was Melanie in that picture, and because I know her so well, I know that the smile she wore was a real one. I have to think hard about it. If Jasper was going to be a sophomore, then it was the summer before Melanie and I became freshmen. Toward the end of the summer, she started dating a guy named Steven Wedowski. She wouldn’t have cheated, though. Melanie is a lot of things, but she doesn’t cheat. She stays loyal, no matter how angry she is. You just don’t want to get on her wrong side.
“June,” Lila says, eager. “Thomas says you’re going to be soccer captain this year.”
“Um…” My hands tighten around the bottle of Captain Morgan. “Yeah, I am.”
In my peripheral vision, I notice Jasper’s eyes narrowing on me. Of course, he’d be the one to catch my stiff posture.
“You can be the Athletic One,” Lila declares. She raises a cup to cheer to it.
Thomas snorts. “Your labeling abilities need work.”
“I label just fine!”
“You labeled yourself the Intelligent One.”
As soon as I’d been in that conversation, I drop out of it. Jasper is still studying me, though, and I don’t relax until he looks away moments later.
That summer before we started high school, Melanie got her first job. She was working downtown somewhere near Quincy market, and because I spent the summer with April in Florida, I didn’t see her in person. I talked with her over the phone all the time, and I vaguely recall an infatuation she had with a co-worker. It was a crush, and from what I could tell, she was into the guy. They hung out a lot and even spent the Fourth of July together. He bought her a present for her birthday in August.
And then… nothing. I arrived home two weeks before school started. I remember asking Melanie about her co-worker. She shrugged it off and said it was never anything serious. I believed her.
In our freshman year of high school, I had a geography class with Jasper. He sat in the back corner, slouched over his art book, and rarely looked up. That year was the year Melanie began spreading rumors about him.
Of course, I never thought much about it. Before Melanie, people already considered him a loner. No one thought he was weird, per se, but it wasn’t hard for Melanie to convince people that he was. When I had asked, once, why she didn’t like him, she responded that she had a class with him, and he was full of himself. If Jasper had put one foot in the wrong direction that would’ve been enough to set Melanie off.
But what if, in this case, it wasn’t one foot but an entire summer of friendship that all came burning down weeks before school started?
For the rest of the night, I’m distracted. Inwardly, I can’t think straight. I can’t quite grasp the image of Melanie and Jasper smiling together. Outwardly, I try to participate in the conversations as much as possible. If anyone notices how tense and distracted I am, they don’t say anything. As it is, Lila and Ren are getting pretty drunk, and although Thomas isn’t drinking—he’s the designated driver—he doesn’t seem to notice my stiffness. Unfortunately, I get the sense that Jasper knows something is up.
It’s late by the time Thomas, as the sober voice of reason, says we should be getting back. When I check my phone, it’s past ten o’clock. By the time we’re all packed, it’s nearing eleven. We head back the way Jasper came, therefore avoiding a climb up the cliffs.
“I’ll lead,” Jasper says. “I just came through here today.”
“No,” Thomas says, moving forward. “You get lost even when you’re in your right mind. I’ll lead.”
Thomas takes the front and, because Ren and Lila shouldn’t take up the rear in all their wobbling, giggling selves, Jasper and I leave Sandy Place last. I trip on a real root this time and almost fall face-first into the ground if not for Jasper’s helping hand. When I’m steady again, I nod my thanks to Jasper.
“You all right?” he asks, taking his hand away from my upper arm. He stretches his fingers before stuffing his hand back in his pocket.
“Yeah, thanks,” I say.
“No, I mean…” Jasper shakes his head. “You seemed a little off tonight.”
I almost blurt it all out right there. The words form in my mouth, open and ready to say those first words—Did you and Melanie…? But before I can, my mind conquers the poison of Captain Morgan, and I remember that I need to think this out before I say anything. My mouth snaps shut and, because I can’t bring myself to look at Jasper, I stare at the back of Ren, who does fall over a root and lands on his face.
Lila trips over him, falling too. Thomas only twists around to look at them, offering no help. A look of amusement and patience rises to his face, but it’s Jasper who goes forward and tries to help them up. Lingering back, I let out a breath. Lila and Ren have unknowingly come to the rescue.
It takes a few moments to get them upright again, especially since Lila tries to pull Jasper down with them as opposed to getting back up. By the time we’re on our way again, and Jasper has fallen back into step with me, I’ve recollected myself.
I don’t want Jasper to ask me again if I’m all right, but I also don’t want there to be a deafening silence. Navigating a conversation with Jasper, though, isn’t the easiest. The silence between us builds, and its nerve-wracking for me. I stare at the backs of Ren and Lila, with Thomas at the front, and wonder how I’ve spent the whole day with them and had fun.
I know what to ask.
“So…” I start, glancing at Jasper. “Tell me their stories.”
In the darkness, I think I see Jasper blink. His face turns towards me slightly, but his gaze doesn’t rest on mine. He’s concentrating on the forest floor, probably trying not to trip over roots like everyone else is. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I struggle to find the right words, a skill for which Jasper has an immense talent, and I utterly lack in. “Thomas is the cook, right? Ren is the photographer, and Lila is the intelligent one. You keep telling me about their pranks, but just… what are their stories?”
Jasper laughs, a soft sound in the cool night. “I’m not sure what to say, June.”
My face reddens, which is something that’s becoming all too common these days. I’m thankful for the darkness.
“Well…” Jasper starts. I wait for him to go on. I know this silence by now. “Ren is really into photography. You got that, right?”
“Yeah, I definitely got that.”
“Well, he used to really hate it. It was because of his parents. They go on these trips all the time, and when they go, they usually leave him with Lila’s parents across the hall. That’s how he and Lila met. Anyway, he hates that his parents are gone so much. He doesn’t show it much these days, but we all know he still does.
“He didn’t get into photography until Lila gave him one of those old disposable ones for his birthday. It was supposed to be a joke—but long story short, Ren loves photography now.”
Jasper lapses into silence. Hesitantly, I ask, “And Lila? Thomas?”
“Thomas and Lila are interesting.” Although I can’t see it, I can almost hear the smile in his tone. “See, Thomas’s parents are old money. They’ve been in the Baltimore area since before America became a country. They’re Ivy League. His dad went to Princeton. So naturally, they want Thomas to follow in their footsteps. It’s not like he isn’t smart enough. Probably not smart enough for Ivy League, but—”
“He wants to become a chef?”
Jasper nods. “Exactly. He wants to go to the Culinary Institute of America in New York. That’s like the Ivy League school for cooks.”
“How does Lila play into this?”
“Well, Lila is smart. I don’t mean more than the average person. She�
�s a genius, and I’m not exaggerating. That girl—she’s crazy.” Jasper laughs again. I’m starting to like its soft, smooth sound. “She likes to learn. And it’s not like her parents aren’t supportive of her aspirations to go to an Ivy League school. It’s just they… don’t think she can.”
“Why not?” I ask. I watch Lila’s back in front of us. She’s laughing maniacally about something. Ren’s arms are flailing about his body like he’s acting out some story. I can see her being intelligent. It’s in the way she holds herself and the glint in her eye when she’s thinking. She’s as mischievous as the rest of the group, but there’s also that brilliant shine in her eyes that reveals she knows how to make a prank just that much better.
“Come on, June. We all pull crazy stunts, and while Lila’s never gotten suspended from school, she’s come close. She likes to learn, but she doesn’t put in the effort, like the extra-curricular activities schools look for. Her parents don’t think she’d get in because of that. Even if she did, she’d have to get a lot of scholarships to go.”
So, Thomas’s parents want him to go Ivy League, but it’s actually Lila who wants to go. That’s interesting.
“You think they can do it?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says, with no hesitation. “I’ve known these guys almost my entire life. They can do anything they put their minds to.”
The way he says that, with so much conviction and passion, reminds me of Lila’s designation of him as the compassionate one. It makes me wonder how I never glimpsed this side of Jasper, who always kept to himself and barely talked to anyone. But of course, I didn’t. I judged him, and then I bullied him—and for what reason? Because Melanie said to?
I’d wanted to break a silence between Jasper and me before it had a chance to form, but by asking him to talk about his friends, I feel worse.
“Watch out,” Jasper says, bringing me back down to reality. “It’s hard to see the steps.”
“What steps?”
He points ahead, and when I look, I see the shadows surrounding a bridge arching over the canyon. Thomas has already climbed the two short steps and is crossing it. He has one hand on Lila’s shoulder, guiding her across, with Ren following close behind. When we’re closer, I see that those steps are almost entirely covered in leaves and old roots.
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