Cross Country Hearts

by Suzanne August

  “The dinner is downtown,” my aunt says. She presses the button for the elevator.

  “Okay,” I say. “Does April need us to bring anything?”

  The simple shake of her head cuts at me. I will my hands to stay by my sides and fiddle with a bracelet while I sit in the passenger seat of Hannah’s car. I will myself not to let my anxiety get the best of me.

  Still, when we walk through the doors of the fancy restaurant, the urge to pull at my hair is only stopped by the fact that it’s full of hairpins. My sister has reserved a full room in a high-end seafood restaurant that’s secluded, dimly lit, and beautiful. Its wall-to-ceiling glass windows allow for a full view of the ocean and the rest of the boardwalk. The music is low, and so is the chatter from family and friends already seated at the long table.

  I follow behind Hannah, and I see him first, though it’s only the back of his head full of bleached hair. He’s not facing me, and I’m grateful for that.

  But then it happens. April looks up from the head of the table and spots me. Hannah is pulling out a chair to sit in when my sister grins wide and says, “June! Come here!”

  Jasper’s shoulders hunch, but he doesn’t turn around. It feels like a punch to my stomach and my heart races, but I manage to walk past him and to the head of the table. April rises from her chair, spreading her arms. I squeeze her tightly, both because I love her and because I’m desperate for a reason I can’t fathom.

  “Only eighteen more hours until you’re a wife,” I whisper in my sister’s ear.

  And she whispers back, “You’re amazing, June, and don’t let anyone think you aren’t.”

  It’s not true, and I have no idea why she says it now, but I say nothing back. When she lets me go, I turn to find the seat I’m designated.

  And because we’re both a part of the wedding party, I’m seated across from Jasper. I don’t look at him as I pull the chair out. On the bright side, I’m next to my aunt, who at least serves as a bit of a buffer between myself and my mother, who sits on the other side of Hannah and only gives me a strained smile in greeting.

  The rest of the table has both Carlisle’s parents, who enthusiastically greet me, and plenty of cousins, uncles, and aunts mixed with a couple of friends of the bride and groom. In total, there are twenty of us. Their chatter drowns out my silence and the fact that I’m staring down at my plate.

  When the appetizer arrives, Hannah says, “Chin up, June.”

  I know she’s right. That what she’s not saying aloud is that I need to look happier, especially for my sister. I lift my head only to lock eyes with Jasper. I don’t know how long he was looking at me or if he was looking at me in the first place. Maybe he saw me moving my head and glanced over at the same moment I raised my gaze. Whatever it was, our eyes lock.

  And, unbelievably, he looks away first.

  A week ago, when we embarked on our road trip, I would’ve never thought Jasper was the kind of person who would look way first. We’re both hard-headed people unwilling to let another person have the upper hand. Even now, I’m tempted to think he shifts his gaze to his uncle because he doesn’t notice how our gazes locked or that it’s because he doesn’t care. After this past week, though, I think I know better. I believe that because his expression is a careful blank mask, he’s hiding emotions he doesn’t want me or anyone else to know about.

  It’s not that he doesn’t care. I know that now. What’s bothering him or what he’s thinking, I still have no idea, but I at least know him enough now to know that his thoughts are never still and that he always has deep emotions. The difference now is, I just don’t know whether he’s angry with me or… well, I couldn’t guess.

  To distract myself, I pick up my fork and pick at the crab cakes in front of me. I make some conversation with my aunt, avoiding any conversation with my mother, and I indulge in some childhood stories about me and April with Carlisle’s parents. They laugh at them all, but I cringe at the one April tells of me throwing our whole bowl of popcorn at her head because we didn’t watch the movie I wanted us to watch on sister movie night. I only hope Jasper doesn’t notice me glancing at him every time my bad behavior comes up in a story.

  The main course comes and goes. I don’t finish either the appetizer or the main course, but I’m not hungry anyway. No one catches me glancing at Jasper, or at least I hope not. Our gazes don’t lock again, but I notice he’s more animated than I am. He laughs with his uncle and aunt, pokes fun at Carlisle, and engages in easy conversation with April and the rest of the table like he’s never been the loner I’ve always known him as. He’s in his element, and once again, the tables turn. I’m not the focus of attention like I’ve always been in high school, and he’s not the one delegated to the corner.

  How is it possible to feel hurt over the fact that it seems he’s not affected by our fight only the night before? I’m barely able to eat, and yet he’s laughing. I find myself tugging at the wisps of hair at my neck and stop.

  When the plates for the main course are cleared and the cake brought out, April and Carlisle announce that everyone can mill about the room and even sit on the patio outside. Everyone receives another glass of wine—except for me and Jasper, of course. After being delegated to a glass of sparkling water, I grab a plate of cake and escape to one of the tables out on the patio.

  But I’m only left to my own devices for five minutes. That’s when my mother finds me. She sets her half-eaten cake on the other side of the table and slides into a patio chair. My mother’s eyes look conflicted but hard, and her shoulders slump. Is it a signal of defeat? I look down at my cake.

  “June,” my mother says. When I look up, I see her fighting for words. I think she wants to yell at me, but maybe because it’s April’s big weekend, she’s trying to keep the peace and wait until after the wedding reception tomorrow night.

  I set down my fork and try to straighten my back. I don’t know if there will ever be another opportunity to say this or if I will ever be brave enough to say it once I’ve missed this opportunity, and so I say it now. “I understand what I’ve done, Mom. If you want me to, I’ll work until I pay you back and volunteer with Hannah at the hospital.”

  My mother stares at me, frowning, but she doesn’t say anything.

  I hide my shaking hands under the table. “I know you don’t believe me, but I am sorry.”

  Silence.

  I add, “For everything.”

  There’s nothing else I can say, so I wait for my mother. She opens her mouth again but still pauses. Finally, she says, “April told me you meant your apology.”

  Grateful that she’s at least not yelling at me, I nod.

  My mother sighs. It’s long and drawn out and not happy. She looks at me and tilts her head, studying me with her hard, blue eyes that are maybe not as hard as they were a moment before. “It’s hard to believe you, June, especially after all the lies the last few years. Do you think I don’t know when you say you’re at Georgia’s or Melanie’s you’re really somewhere else?”

  I bite my lip, but I can’t deny it, so I say nothing.

  She nods her head, accepting my silence as confirmation, as she should. “I’m sorry you think I haven’t been there since your father died.”

  “Mom—”

  “June,” she says, sharp. I shut up. She says, “Maybe you’re right.”

  Her voice is soft when she admits this, and it only makes me feel more like a horrible person. “Mom, I didn’t want to accuse you of anything. We were fighting. That’s all.”

  She shakes her head. “You made a good point.”

  She signs again, and she looks at me. Then she does something I don’t think she’s ever done before. Her hand reaches across the table, palm up. Hesitantly, I put my own in hers, and she squeezes it tight.

  “This doesn’t excuse anything you’ve done in the past week,” my mother says. “You will have to work until you pay me back, but I won’t force you to volunteer with Hannah if you don’t want to. I know
you have soccer, and you’re the team captain, and I’m proud of you for achieving that. I promise to try and make it to some of your games this season.”

  My throat squeezes. My mother has never come to any of my games. I nod. “I’m sorry, Mom. I really am.”

  “I think I believe you,” she says, and the way she says it informs me that I really will have to prove it to her. Then she adds, “I’m sorry too, June.”

  She doesn’t have to say what for. I think I understand. Maybe we don’t get along as well as she and April does, but even during our difficult periods, I have never doubted that my mother loves me. It’s a starting point, at least. I still have to prove myself to her, and we need to work on understanding each other better, but I’m willing to try.

  Soon after, someone inside clinks a champagne glass with a fork, and we head inside. My mother goes to stand at my sister’s side while I stand by the door to the patio as Carlisle’s father gives a toast. When everyone is laughing at a joke he makes about April and Carlisle getting lost on the first road trip they ever made to Florida, my phone pings. I wait a few minutes, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I hope it’s Georgia.

  Yet again, however, it’s not her. It’s an email from someone named Dhiren. It takes me only a moment to remember that it’s Jasper’s friend, Ren. I glance up to make sure no one is watching before raising my phone and swiping to see the email.

  As he promised, Ren sent photos of our mini-trip to Maryland. I swipe through them fast. Mostly, I don’t want to look at them. I don’t want any reminder of the road trip I embarked on, because at the moment, these photos only bring shame and pain.

  Yet, before I exit the email and shut off my phone, my eyes land on one particular photo. It’s from the day we spent at the canyon, at Sandy Place. Lila is wearing a crazy expression, arms waving as she shouts something at Thomas. I’m sitting beside him, laughing hard, and in the background is Jasper. He’s holding a hot dog in his hand, but he’s not eating it. He’s looking at something.

  Before now, I would’ve thought it was impossible to guess what Jasper is thinking in a photo. It’s hard enough to speculate in person, and even then, I figure you have to know him well to make any kind of accurate guess. But I look at the photo now, and I think I get an inkling of what he’s thinking.

  In the photo, his eyes are on me. They’re not on Lila telling some kind of crazy story like she must be. No, my eyes are closed, and my hair is a mess from swimming. Because I’m laughing, I look like a disheveled person who needs to be in an insane asylum, and yet there Jasper is in the background, looking at me. His eyes aren’t unreadable. They’re not hard either. They’re soft, and they’re thoughtful, his head tilted to the side as he studies me.

  Thinking back on it, hadn’t I noticed this then? Hadn’t he been quieter that day, giving me funny looks? Studying the photo now, maybe this is the moment Jasper figured out I wasn’t the horrible person he’s always thought of me. Similar to my experience the day before, when we were at Hersheypark, and I realized at last that the Jasper I thought I knew in high school was not the real one I had insanely agreed to do a road trip with.

  I look up from my phone, eyes searching, and I see him immediately. It must be because Jasper is already looking at me, his phone in his hand too. Did he get the same email from Ren? But the Jasper I read in the photo is not the same Jasper now. This Jasper is unreadable. His stony mask is back in place as he stares at me from across the room. And this time, I’m the first to look away.

  Maybe that day, in Maryland, Jasper changed his opinion of me. Perhaps that day, he decided that I wasn’t the horrible person he always thought I was in school and that I could be a good person.

  But now? Well, after our fight, I don’t know what he thinks anymore. With how angry we were in the jail and how we shouted at each other, I can only guess that he’s changed his opinion again, and this time it isn’t a good one.

  I turn my phone off and slide it back into my pocket, unable to listen to the toast Carlisle’s father is finishing up. Instead, I look out at the patio. In the sky, the moon is waning, disappearing.

  And I can’t help it. I think about Maryland. I think about Jasper’s friends, who I would’ve liked to someday call my own. Those few days in Maryland, I started a budding friendship with three people, and I like to think I started one with Jasper that day, too.

  Now, though, that budding friendship that seemed to be turning into something more might’ve been nipped in the bud before it could even begin to grow. All I think is that I don’t want that friendship, or whatever it is, to shrivel up and disappear into the ground as any nipped weed would.

  Twenty Six

  “Driving in heels, huh?”

  Georgia calls as I’m trying to get out the door. Perfect timing.

  “Georgia,” I say, phone between ear and shoulder. I’m hopping around the room and trying to put on my heels.

  “June!” She shouts so loud that I wince. “I’m so sorry we keep missing each other. When is the wedding?”

  “In half an hour,” I say. I look at the clock in the room. Nope, it’s actually in twenty-five minutes.

  We’ve been running around all morning. My mother, two of my sister’s friends, and I ate breakfast together before getting our hair done. We only just finished getting April wedding-ready, which was when I realized that I was still running around the church in bare feet and only half-dressed. My mother is fixing an issue with April’s wedding dress, and my aunt is grabbing something from the hotel. Whatever April’s two friends are doing, I have no idea.

  “Can you talk?” Georgia asks.

  No, I think. Aloud, I say, “What’s up?”

  “Your text was real cryptic,” she begins. “I want to know what’s up with you.”

  My breath escapes in one big whoosh, almost as if I’ve been punched in the gut. I’ve hardly had any time since waking up this morning to think about him. I wish Georgia hadn’t brought him up now.

  “Um…” I pause and shake my head, running back into the room to grab my purse.

  “June?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did something happen?”

  I make to leave the room again, determined to get back to April, but I tell myself I need to pause and talk to Georgia. How can I sum up the past few days in only a few sentences? I put my purse on a side table and sit on a couch.

  I take a breath and let it out slowly. “Jasper and I were arrested in Atlanta.”

  “What!”

  “It’s a long story, Georgia, and I don’t have a lot of time to explain.”

  “What happened?”

  I wince again, bringing the phone away from my ear. “Um… Jasper and I were trespassing in a park. And we kissed, I guess.”

  Did I need to add that last part? No, I didn’t, if Georgia’s surprised shriek is anything to go by.

  “June!” she shouts. “So… what, what now? What are you guys going to do?”

  I press my free hand against my forehead. “We’re not going to do anything, Georgia. We haven’t talked to each other since the jail.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You fought?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yeah. We said a lot of things.”

  There’s a long pause on Georgia’s end. It’s excruciating. I hear movement on her end before she finally says, “Well, you both are pretty stubborn.”

  I’d say that’s an understatement. “It doesn’t change how bad the fight was.”

  “Okay,” she says slowly. “How does that make you feel?”

  Trust Georgia to turn into a therapist and the voice of reason when I least want her to. “I’m running around for a wedding, Georgia. I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  I almost laugh. Also, trust Georgia to call me out on my shit. “I don’t have time for this. I really need to get back to April.”

  “I mean, I think that gives me your an
swer, girl.”

  I stand, half ignoring her because I don’t want to be talking or even thinking about this again. I pick up the purse on the table and say, “I have to go.”

  “June, wait.”

  And because I like to think I’m a decent friend, I pause. My shoulders drop. “What?”

  “Whatever you want, and I mean really want, you need to go for it,” she tells me. “You get me?”

  I roll my eyes, uncomfortable. “Sure.”

  “I heard about your conversation with Melanie yesterday,” she goes on. “I’m proud of you. You finally stood up for yourself, and you did it for yourself. I bet you think Jasper hates you, but you’re not going to know if that’s the truth unless you talk to him.”

  I bite my lip.

  “Are you listening?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Okay, well… the worst that will happen is he’ll tell you off. Yeah, I guess that’ll hurt, but you’ll move on and forget about it.”

  “Georgia, you make it sound like we’re in love.”

  She laughs. “Okay, well, even if you just want to be friends with him, you should at least talk. Don’t be scared of his opinion of you.”

  “Georgia—”

  But she’s already hung up on me. Which, to be fair, was probably a good thing because I don’t want to talk about Jasper, and I also need to get back to April. With one last glance at the clock—twenty minutes to go—I run out of the room and back to the one where April is getting ready. On the way, I pass a handful of wedding guests arriving and wave off one cousin who tries to greet me.

  When I get back to April, she’s hysterical. Not yet crying, but she’s nearly there. This alarms me because when I left her ten minutes ago, she was completely fine.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. I look from April to her friend, Beth, and then to her other friend, Nevaeh. Both her friends are trying to calm my sister down, but Beth draws away to whisper to me.