He’d been smiling, but now the little crinkles around his eyes sprout and his brown irises deepen in color. They’re happy. Relieved.
I take another step forward and put my arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry, too.”
“I know,” he says because if there’s anything he’s learned about me this past week, it’s that I’m the easiest open book to read out there. His arms wrap around my waist, and he hugs me tight.
Up until now, our history has been that of bully and victim, but the day we started driving together into my mother’s red Honda was the day our histories began to converge and a new kind of definition about us written. I don’t know exactly what that history will become, but I do know it will never again be that of bully and victim. I won’t ever let it become that again.
I pull away first. “So, what do you say? Think we can be friends?”
He laughs. “That’s it?”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’ve got to take me on a date first.”
“Well, what do you say we get out of this joint and get some burgers and fries?”
“You call that a first date?”
He looks around, eyes on an unfinished plate of salad at the table closest to us. And then I finally laugh because Jasper and I definitely get each other when it comes to food. My sister has always been a health nut, and whenever I’m with her, I’ve always just wanted some fries and a good, old-fashioned burger. This wedding is no different.
I grab his hand. “Yeah, I guess I’d call that a great first date.”
And with my other hand, I wrap my palm around the back of his neck and pull his mouth to mine. His mouth tastes like the mints left on the table, mixed with the chocolates left in the paper airplanes.
When I pull away, I see that he’s smiling. “I think that’s a good apology.”
“Or a great start to a first date,” I say.
His eyes roam the room, and when they land back on me, with that one eyebrow raised again, he says, “How easily do you think we could escape?”
I groan. “Maybe not for another hour.”
“Well…” the hand that I’m still holding squeezes mine.”What do you say? Think you can teach me to dance?”
“What makes you think I can dance?”
“Maybe you never saw me at the high school homecoming dances, but I saw you.”
I laugh again because while that sounds romantic, it’s not. “Yeah, and the only reason you were watching me was because you were plotting how to draw my monster claws.”
He doesn’t deny it. But I think we’ve already made it to the stage in our budding relationship that we can joke about the monster claws, if nothing else.
After one or two more of his grandmother’s stereotypical cookies, we make our way to the dance floor and dance. And, so what if he kisses me a few times, in front of everyone?
Because I don’t mind it when Jasper King kisses me.
Epilogue
“You’ve got to pour more milk into it,” John says, pointing at the latte sitting before me.
When I don’t say anything, John sighs and wipes his hands on his green apron before stepping closer to me. I let him pry the tin cup of steaming milk from my hands.
He raises his eyebrows at me. “Watch,” he says before grabbing a round cup to pour more latte in. Then he demonstrates step by step how to pour the steaming milk into the cup to create a neat, perfectly shaped leaf. He hands the cup back to me. “Here, serve this one.”
“John,” I say. “You did that so you can have the latte I messed up, didn’t you?”
His smile is devious enough to make me doubt my words, but I catch him as I turn away, pouring my failed latte art into a paper cup. I do not doubt that it’ll disappear into the break room, next to the black Sharpie marker he’ll use to write his name onto the cup.
I take the latte he’s made and walk around the counter just as the bell above the cafe’s door rings. Two women in their early twenties walk in.
“I’ll be right with you,” I say, plastering a smile on.
“I’ll get it, June!” John calls.
Relieved, I keep on walking toward the tiny table in the corner of the small cafe. When I set the latte down on the table next to a laptop, I say, “There you go. Best one I’ve done yet, just for you.”
Jasper’s one eyebrow raises, and he glances from the cup to me. “I saw John showing you how to do it.”
Caught, I laugh. “He wanted to one-up me.”
He shakes his head, but his eyes smile. “Thanks for the free latte.”
“Who says it’s free?” I ask. Before he answers, I pull up a chair beside his and sit, peering at his laptop. “What have you got so far?”
Up on his screen is an article he’s reading for an art history essay he needs to write for one of his college classes. He clicks out of the article and pulls up the document where he has an outline of ideas.
“So…” he starts, then highlights a section after the one highlighted as ‘Maryland.’ This section is titled ‘Washington D.C.’ Jasper says, “Lila is the only one who can make time to come. I was figuring that after we pick her up, we can all head for the capital first.”
I glance over my shoulder to make sure John isn’t too busy behind the counter before turning my attention back to Jasper’s laptop. I lean closer to see better, my shoulder brushing Jasper’s arm. As he talks, his hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing it. I lean into him.
“After D.C. I was thinking we should stay in the area. There are some cool monuments you’d be interested in, and there’s this museum I want to try…” he clicks between tabs, showing me each monument and museum he wants to see. He’s even included Georgia’s suggestions of where she wants to go. I’m sure Lila’s suggestions will make the upcoming trip more colorful.
“What do you think?” Jasper asks after a few moments. “Like what I’ve got so far?”
I grin. “Yeah, I think it’s perfect. I like the idea about staying in one area.”
“Well, it’ll be winter too, so it’s a better plan,” he agrees.
“I should be done paying my mom back at the end of October,” I tell him. “Then I can start contributing to the fund.”
“Perfect. It feels like you’ve been paying her back forever.”
“Four months,” I agree. “Glad it’s almost over.”
After April’s wedding week, I drove back with my mother alone in her Honda. What started as an excruciating two-day trip back up to Boston turned into a heartfelt conversation halfway up the East Coast when we stopped for a night in a hotel. Maybe it was being forced into the cramped space of a car together, instead of a house where either one of us could leave the moment we’d had enough of the other person.
We couldn’t run away from our problems. Sitting in that red Honda forced us to talk, to figure out our problems, and to at least promise each other that we’ll try to do better. The first day of that road trip was full of bickering, and the second day was full of ways we’ll be better to each other and for each other.
After that road trip, something told me that there was something about road trips. They can change you and your relationship with someone. There has to be something about sitting in such a small space so long that it forces you to confront ideas and yourself, making you consider how you view the simplest things in your life.
That second, much shorter road trip with my mother reinforced the new budding desire in me to crave an adventure, specifically of the road trip kind.
But before I could even consider going on another road trip, I had to pay my mother back for the first one. Two weeks after getting back from Florida, I threw on a green apron at the cafe closest to my school and started learning how to make coffee art.
For the rest of the summer, I found my own kind of art to find passion in while Jasper prepared for moving into his college dorm on his Boston campus, and my mother, secretly, picked up a book that gave tips to parents on how to bond with their teenage children. I only disc
overed she has it after I found it peeking out from her bag one morning.
It hasn’t been easy. I haven’t paid my mother back as fast enough as I would’ve liked, and she’s turned out to be just as horrible at math as I am, so helping me with my struggles in school has led to some heated arguments. But my relationship with my mother has always been one of push and tug and yelling. At least now, after our yelling matches, we sit down a day later and figure it out. And now I have a math tutor.
When it comes to comparing how my friendship with Melanie has fared, though, repairing my relationship with my mother has been a piece of cake. Melanie doesn’t exactly ignore me per-se, but we will never be the same.
I’ve ended up becoming co-captain with both Melanie and Victoria, and suddenly, Victoria and Melanie are new best friends. Melanie divulges all her secrets to her, instead of me, like she did for the past six years. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt, especially because Melanie still laughs and jokes with me and invites me to all the same parties we’ve always gone to together, but I’m coming to terms with it. At least Georgia is there, by my side, and has never wavered in loyalty and friendship to me.
“I’m thinking four days total,” Jasper is saying now. “We can do a longer road trip next summer.”
“I love that idea,” I say.
“We can do that one, just us. What do you think?”
“As long as we actually plan that one out,” I tell him. “And we don’t have anywhere to be.”
His eyes crinkle. “I won’t argue with that point.”
I point to the title of the document on his screen. “Why is it titled ‘Cross Country’ when we’re not even going anywhere outside of Washington D.C.?”
He laughs. “Because we’ll make it across the country at some point. Besides, I think we’ve managed to cross some hurdles as big as our country anyway.”
I get immediately what he means. Jasper’s painting of words hasn’t always been so clear, but in this one sentence, I understand right away, and I think it’s fitting. Who would have ever thought that we would’ve been able to get across the differences and resentments we had fostered for years? It’s a massive achievement, we’ve agreed. At some point, maybe around our third date, Jasper had said our trip down the East Coast was more than a road trip down our country’s entire Eastern seaboard.
It was a trip in understanding ourselves and each other. We went ‘Cross Country’ in more ways than one.
“I like it,” I tell him, and I lean forward to kiss him on the cheek.
“June!”
I twist in my chair to see John waving at me. “Coming!” Turning back to Jasper, I say, “Okay, get back to work.”
Jasper closes his laptop and puts it in his bag. “I’ve got to get to swim practice anyway.”
“All right. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Let’s plan on it.” As Jasper stands, he looks over my shoulder, toward the cafe’s counter, before focusing on me and pulling me close. His mouth always tastes like mint, and the taste lingers as he pulls back.
“Bye, King,” I say and head back to John and the customers beginning to line up.
He sighs behind me, but I hear him say, “I’ll talk to you later, Pierce.”
John is scowling at me, undoubtedly wishing I’d hurry up and get back to work. I have to hide my smile behind my hand and push away those butterfly feelings. My mouth still tastes like mints long after Jasper leaves the cafe, and John’s pestering about my latte art doesn’t bother me the least.
I’ve got a road trip to look forward to now.
Acknowledgments
There are not enough words to describe how thankful I am to my friends and family who have supported and encouraged me on this journey. Among them is my mom, Lori, who has encouraged me to publish my books since the day I began writing. Thank you to my roommates and friends, Anna and Lukas, who I hopefully didn’t disturb on too many occasions when I woke up at the break of dawn every weekend to work on this novel. And thank you to my partner, Des, who listens to me think aloud about anything to do with writing and publishing, and pretends it’s interesting (and maybe you do think it is!).
The people who inspired me to publish this book in the first place also deserve recognition. They include the many people in my circle who began their own projects and businesses during the lockdowns of the past year. They also include my aunt Vicki and uncle Jeff, who began an incredible business on their own. And also my friend and sister, Mony. My little sister, Lily, also deserves recognition for how excited she was when she found out I had written a book (and who is now writing her own stories!).
I also can’t express enough gratitude to all three of my editors. Each edit this novel went through improved it tremendously from the last, and this book is all the better for it. I am eternally grateful.
Thank you!
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed every word, and if you did, I hope you’ll leave a review (because every review counts!). If you’d like to join my email list for more info on my upcoming books, you’ll find the link to my newsletter on the next page.
About the Author
Suzanne is an historian who holds a master’s degree in International History. She’s also lived in four different countries, not including her hometown in Maine, United States. When she’s not country hopping around the world, she spends her time creating her next novel. Visit her website at suzanneaugust.com for updates on her upcoming novels and join her newsletter.
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Also by Suzanne August
Defining Life (Coming soon)
At sixteen, Heather is a cancer survivor. At ten years old, diagnosed with a fatal disease, she became inseparable with Aaron Nguyen, a boy with cancer who seemed to have abandoned her when he was finally cured.
Now Heather is a Junior at Earl West High. She’s one of the school’s odd balls, while Aaron is the school’s golden boy. It’s as if the two have never met, and neither Heather nor Aaron have spared a glance each other’s way.
Until the day their English teacher assigns the class’s final project of the year.
This is Defining Life, the story of two teenage cancer survivors on the quest to define life, because if they don’t, they might as well fail their class project entirely.
Cross Country Hearts Page 25