by Kasie West
“My favorite?” he asked. “I don’t know that it’s my favorite, but I sculpt a lot of trees. I think I’m trying to make the perfect one.”
“Do you sculpt with clay or stone?”
“Clay.”
“I’ve never painted a tree. Well, I mean, not as the sole subject. I’ve painted them as background or part of a scene. I should try a tree.”
“What’s your favorite thing to paint?” he asked.
“I don’t really have a favorite. I painted a sunrise recently, and that was fun.”
“I didn’t see a sunrise in the living room.”
“The living room just has some of my paintings. I have a back room full of my stuff.”
“Why didn’t you show me that?”
“Weren’t you the one who talked about pretension?”
“There’s a fine line between feeling like a show-off and wanting people to see your work, isn’t there?”
“For sure,” I said.
“Well, I want to see it.”
I smiled.
“Abby!” I heard my name called from a distance. I looked over to see Cooper standing by an ice chest, holding up a can of Dr Pepper. The patio lights were on now, and white lights were strung around trees and posts and lit the otherwise dark backyard. When had it gotten so dark?
I nodded. Then he pointed at Elliot.
“Do you want a soda? Cooper wants to know.”
Elliot cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Coke!”
Cooper jogged around the pool and presented us with our two cans. “Coke might be a deal breaker for Abby. She hates Coke.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s kidding.”
“So you don’t hate Coke?” Elliot said.
“No, I hate Coke. But not a deal breaker.”
Cooper cuffed Elliot on the arm, then left. We both watched him go. That was weird. He joined up with Iris again and she slid her arm around his waist.
“You two are really close,” Elliot said, breaking my stare.
“Aren’t most friends?”
“True.”
We were quiet for a time, and I tried to think of more art things to talk about. I put my plate of half-eaten food on the ground beside our chair and he did the same.
He leaned to the side, which brought him a little closer to me, and looked up at the sky. “Do you know any constellations?”
“Just the basics. Do you?”
“Same.”
“You smell good,” I said. Like hair product or dryer sheets or something clean and fragrant.
“Thanks. You do too.”
“It’s vanilla lotion.” I held up my arm, and he took it in his hand and brought it to his nose.
“Like cookies,” he said.
Cooper wandered back over to us, holding Iris by the hand this time, and sat down on the lounge chair that Lacey had pulled over. Iris sat down in front of him.
“Abby, Iris asked how we met, and I was trying to remember the very first thing I said to you in science when you moved here.”
“You said, ‘You’re new,’” I deadpanned. “I said, ‘You’re observant.’”
He laughed. “That’s right. You were always sarcastic. But then I said something really funny back.”
“Cooper thinks he’s funnier than he is.” I actually didn’t remember exactly what he said when I walked into science class my first day at another new school. But I remembered he was the first person to talk to me and we’d been friends ever since.
He gasped in faux offense. “She’s just jealous.”
That word jolted something loose in my brain. Is that what was going on here? Why Cooper kept coming over and interrupting us? Was he jealous? That thought expanded in my chest until I felt like it would burst.
“I remember the first thing I heard you say,” Iris said.
“Oh yeah, what?” he asked.
“You said if given the choice between seeing ghosts or zombies, you’d choose ghosts, because then they could tell you your future.”
“Ghosts don’t know the future,” Elliot said.
I grabbed hold of his arm. “That’s exactly what I said!”
“My ghosts would,” Cooper reiterated.
“When we met Iris we were playing would you rather,” I explained to Elliot. Well, when she met Cooper. She didn’t remember me.
Lacey walked up right at that moment with a couple of people in tow. “We’re playing would you rather?”
“We weren’t,” Cooper said. “But we can.”
Lacey sat on the end of our lounge chair, then gestured for Elliot to scoot closer to me. He did, and she settled into her spot more. The other two girls who had come with her sat on the grass at the foot of the chairs. “Do you all know Lydia and Kara?” The group greeted them.
“I have one if we’re playing,” Elliot said. “Would you rather have to jump in the pool right now or eat a live cricket?” He pointed to the bush, where I could no longer hear the insects, but I was sure they were still there.
“Pool!” almost everyone said at once.
Cooper and I looked at each other and both said, “Live cricket.”
“What?” Lacey asked with a look of disgust.
“We’ve eaten the dried version before. A little salt and pepper and they’re golden,” Cooper said.
I raised my eyebrows. “Golden?”
He swatted his hand at me. “Don’t start.”
I held his sparkling eyes and laughed.
“I have one,” Lacey said, tilting her head at me. “Unrequited love or not being able to love at all?”
I shot her wide eyes, but she just gave me innocent ones back.
“Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?” Elliot asked. “Did you seriously just ask that question?”
“Is that a famous question?” Iris asked.
“Tennyson,” I said. “Do you really not know that age-old quote?”
“It sounds familiar,” she said. “And I think I’d rather not love at all. Unrequited love is so pathetic.”
“Ouch,” Lacey said. “I don’t think it’s pathetic. But very tragic. Artists use it to feed their muses. Muses are such ravenous things.”
Now I couldn’t help but laugh. I picked up a piece of watermelon from the plate I had abandoned on the ground next to me and threw it at her. She jumped off the end of the chair with a scream, which sent the chair teetering backward with its now uneven weight distribution. I rolled off onto the ground and Elliot landed on top of me.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, pushing himself off, then helping me up. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Cooper was there too, obviously having jumped out of his chair when ours toppled. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, giving me a once-over.
“Whoever said chivalry was dead?” Lacey asked.
I held my hands up. “Boys, seriously, it was, like, a one-foot fall.”
“I wasn’t worried about the fall. Just the weight that landed on you,” Cooper said, smacking Elliot on the back playfully.
I tilted my head at Cooper. He was definitely acting weird. “I’m fine.”
We all settled back into our spots and spent the next hour playing the game. Finally, Lacey stretched and said, “I better go see a man about some fireworks.” She stood up, this time making sure we’d repositioned our weight before taking hers completely off.
“Need any help?” I asked.
“Sure. We’ll be back,” she said to the rest of the group as I joined her. “The best view will be on the deck by the pool. You all might want to move there.”
When we were out of hearing range of the group, I said, “Are you trying to give me away?”
She laughed a little. “It was harmless. I don’t think he suspected anything. Besides, he’s here with his girlfriend.”
“She is not his girlfriend. They’ve only been on, like, two dates.”
“Not too serious yet then.”
&nb
sp; “Did you notice Cooper acting different tonight?”
“I don’t know him well enough to know his normal.”
“Do you think it’s possible that . . . could Cooper be . . . jealous of Elliot?” I said it out loud and I sort of wanted to take it back.
“Possibly.” We walked around the side of the house toward the garage. “Have you thought about just telling Cooper how you feel?”
“I’m trying to get over Cooper.”
“Even the Cooper that may or may not be showing signs of jealousy?”
I groaned. “He’s my friend, and I’ll go and ruin everything. I gave him a chance, and believe me when I say it wasn’t well received.”
She shrugged. “Things change.”
I wasn’t sure if they’d changed enough. Regardless of his weird behavior, he was here with Iris and I was here with Elliot. So tonight definitely wasn’t a night for confessions.
The garage was big and housed four cars. One had a cover over it, only shiny black wheels showing. A man, I assumed Lacey’s dad, stood looking in some boxes in the corner.
“Are the fireworks ready?”
He straightened up and turned around. “If we only shoot off a couple of the illegal ones, we should be fine, right?”
“Abby won’t turn us in,” Lacey said.
“I’d actually hand you both over pretty quickly with just the threat of torture.”
“She’s kidding,” Lacey said, when he seemed worried by my statement. “Come on, we’ll help you carry boxes.” Between the three of us, it only took one trip to deliver the fireworks to the side of the pool. Then Lacey and I joined the others on the deck.
The fireworks weren’t professional city-quality ones or anything, but they were cool. And as the illegal sky rockets lit up the sky with their loud bangs of color, I noticed Cooper looking at me. He averted his gaze. Maybe things could change.
TWENTY-ONE
When I walked in the house several hours later, Mom and Grandpa were sitting in the living room pretending to watch television.
“You’re still awake?” I said, stopping in the entryway. “Isn’t it past your bedtimes?”
Mom turned off the TV. “We wanted to see how your date went.”
I sat down on the couch next to her. “It was fun. He sculpts.”
“Sculpts?” Mom asked. “Is that a workout term?”
“No. He literally takes clay and molds it into cool things. Or at least I think they’re cool. I’ve never seen them before.”
Her face lit up. “He’s an artist.”
“But don’t get your hopes up, because I’m not sure if things will go any further.” The fact that I ended the night hopeful that Cooper was jealous was not the right way to start a new relationship.
“Sometimes it takes a while to know if you like someone.”
“I know.”
“Well, I’m proud of you for trying. Maybe now that you saw how fun it can be, you can go out again. Or ask another boy out,” Mom said.
That sounded like the worst idea in the world. “Yep. Sounds like a plan.” When I realized they were waiting for something more, I said, “I’ll just pick one of the boys lining up at the door waiting to court me.”
“See, I knew she was being sarcastic,” my mom said.
“Do you have anything to add to this interrogation, Grandpa?”
“I’ll interview the line of boys to see who’s after you for only your wealth and beauty.”
I stood and kissed my mom on the cheek, then my grandpa. “I’m going to bed. I love you both. Good night.”
The next day I woke up in the best possible way. With a Cooper text. It said:
My sister’s goldfish died. We’re having a ceremony. Get over here now.
I mean, I guess that wasn’t exactly the best way. If the life of the goldfish could’ve been spared, it would’ve been much better. But it had happened, and he had texted me.
Roger. On my way.
I brushed my teeth, replaced my bed shorts for jean shorts, and headed for the door. “Going to Cooper’s. I’ll be back later.”
“Okay, have fun,” Mom said.
A thought occurred to me and I backtracked, grabbed my newest painting—the one of the fish—and left.
“Did you even brush your hair?” Cooper asked when he answered the door. “And you slept in that tank top, didn’t you? For the love of Pete, this is a memorial service.”
“Ha-ha.”
He smiled and pulled me inside by the arm. He shut the door, then paused for a moment. The entryway was dim and I looked up, confused. His eyes met mine, holding them for three breath-stealing seconds. Then his smile brightened. “Let’s go,” he said.
His sister was already in the bathroom, holding the fishbowl gravely. “I think I forgot to feed him,” she whispered when she saw me.
“Sometimes fish just die,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder.
“Especially when they don’t have food,” Cooper said, and I elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted but then added, “It’s okay, Amelia. I’ll get you a new one.”
“I don’t want a new one.”
“Well, let’s at least give this one a proper end.” Cooper gestured to the toilet. “I think it’s time.”
“We must have a memorial first,” Amelia said. “Think of nice things to say.”
“Okay.” Cooper tapped his lips with his finger. “He was a quiet fish.”
“It’s a girl,” Amelia said. “Lindsay.”
“Your fish’s name was Lindsay?”
“What’s wrong with Lindsay?” I asked.
“That’s a person name. You can’t name animals people names.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a rule.”
“I think the most common pet name is actually Max. Which makes it not a rule.”
“Yes,” Amelia agreed. “What Abby said. She likes the name Lindsay.”
“I do.”
“Abby likes everyone’s name,” Cooper said.
I barked out a laugh, then quickly covered my mouth. “So untrue.”
“It seemed like the right thing to say.”
“I thought we were saying things about my fish,” Amelia said.
“Right. Your fish.” Cooper thought for a moment. “She was quiet and kept to herself.”
I sucked my lips in to keep from laughing again. I knew Amelia was upset, and I wanted to take this seriously for her. Cooper’s smirk in my direction wasn’t helping.
I added, “She was very bright. The prettiest shade of orange I’ve ever seen.”
Cooper nodded. “And Abby is an artist, so she’s seen a lot of orange.”
Amelia smiled. “She was a pretty color.” She looked into the bowl and her expression darkened. “Now she’s kind of gray.”
“What about you, Mil?” Cooper asked. “What nice things do you have to say about her?”
“When I left for school she would go to the top of the bowl like she was saying good-bye to me. I think she was smart.”
“For sure,” I said.
We stood there for several more moments, waiting for Amelia to say more, but she didn’t.
“Okay, it’s time.” Cooper walked to the toilet and placed his finger on the handle.
Amelia dumped her fish into the toilet bowl slowly and I tried not to cringe when it landed with a plop, splattering some water onto the lid.
“Bye, Lindsay,” Amelia whispered.
Cooper flushed and we all watched until she was gone. Amelia gave me a long hug and I patted her back.
“Oh,” I said. “I have something for you. Meet me in your room.”
Cooper trailed after me as I made my way to the trunk of my car. “What do you have?”
“You’ll see.”
“By the way, I think we just watched a life go out of the world,” he said. “For the list.”
I stopped with a gasp, just short of opening the trunk. “You’re right. We totally did. Nice.” I w
as smiling and I stopped myself. “I mean, not nice. Not for your sister.”
“It’s okay, Abby. I think she’ll be fine.”
I opened the trunk of my car and pulled back the soft cloth from over the painting.
Before I could lift out the canvas, Cooper stopped my hands. “Did you paint this?”
“Yes. I’m going to give it to your sister.”
“You can’t give this to my sister.”
“You don’t think she’ll like it?”
“I think she’ll love it, but you have to show this to Mr. Wallace. It’s amazing.”
“It’s good. But I can do better. This one is for Amelia.” Mr. Wallace wanted more feelings, but this one felt like too much feeling and not enough technique.
“When did you do this?”
“The other day, after I went to that fish spa.”
“This is what came of that? Now I wish I’d gone.”
“It was pretty awesome.” I picked up the painting.
“You really are just stalling, aren’t you? You don’t think this is good enough because you don’t want to show Mr. Wallace until you think you’ve reached perfection.”
“No, I don’t think it’s good enough because I didn’t feel right when I was painting it.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t know what feelings are?” I asked with a smirk.
“Funny.”
I held up the painting. “I still have sixteen days until he’s making final decisions. And three more experiences to try. If two more paintings don’t result, I’ll use this one. Don’t worry. I’m going to show him.”
“Good. Because I want this for you.”
“I know. Thank you.”
Cooper nodded and took the painting from me, carrying it the rest of the way into his house.
Amelia loved it and made him hang it on the wall above her bed right that second. “Abby, you are the best. Thank you so much. This will remind me of Lindsay when I see it.”
“Good. I’m glad you like it.”
“She might have to borrow it back in a week to show the museum director for the showcase.”