each other have tomean something. If one of us doesnât act soon, weâre going to miss our moment again, and this time we wonât have another. Ryan coughs and stares at the cracks in the cement. Itâs not going to be him.
So maybe it has to be me. I take in his sun-bleached hair and the little gap between his front teeth for what may very well be the last time and take a deep breath. I am standing at the top of the high dive, scared senseless, and I know I will regret it forever if I donât jump. So I do. Well, not literally, but I place my hand lightly on his shoulder and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Iâm struck by how warm his skin is to my lips. I mean, Iâm sure heâs 98.6 like any other human, but between the sun and the heavy lifting, he feels warmer. Before I can ponder the mysteries of his thermal regulation any further, I hear a voice say, âWhat are you doing?â
Chessa stands in the doorway, peering at us through narrowed eyes. My first instinct is to vault over the bushes and sprint until I reach the state line. She slinks closer, and I scan the perimeter for sharp objects.
âHey, Chessa,â he says.
Her features rearrange themselves so she looks almost innocent. âHey. What are you guys talking about?â
Ryanâs cheeks turn a little pink. âNothing. Just the move and stuff.â
âYeah, Iâm really gonna miss all my friends,â she says with a dramatic sigh. âThat reminds me. I really need to talk to CJ. Do you mind?â The smile she flashes us is all sweetness and light.
âNo, thatâs fine.â He turns back to me while Chessa shoots menacing looks over his shoulder. âBye, CJ,â he says, giving me a little wave and disappearing into the house with his box.
She waits until heâs gone and then she pounces. âWhy were you talking to him?â
So she didnât see me kiss him. I might actually live to see my thirteenth birthday.
âI, um, Iââ
She continues to hover over me like some sort of jungle predator.
âI said, why were you talking to him?â
My brain cells fire feebly. If I donât spit out an excuse soon, sheâll go all release-the-kraken on me. She reaches into her pocket, no doubt for a set of brass knuckles. Why canât I think straight right now?!
âCalm down. She was just returning a football,â says a voice that turns out to belong to Megan McQueen.
Megan? Holy crap, these girls are like velociraptors; ones I didnât even know were there are swooping in from the sides.
She tosses the football to me with a surprisingly good throw for someone with a French manicure before returning to her backyard.
âYeah. Football,â I say.
Chessa gives me one last lingering glare before saying, âIâll give it to him for you.â When the door closes behind her, I can finally breathe again.
âThanks,â I say, leaning against a nearby pine tree forsupport. âYou totally just saved my life.â I canât even believe she did it. Sheâs much closer to Chessa than she is to me. I wonder why she wouldâ
âNo problem,â she says.
Itâs then that I realize Iâve never seen Megan McQueen look so sad. Sheâs always the center of attention, and sheâs
always
smiling. I suspect she even Vaselines her teeth. But today she is sitting on her patio with her back to her house and her knees tucked against her chest. Her eyes are the kind of bright that means sheâs thinking about crying but wants to tough it out.
âHow come youâre sitting out here by yourself?â
She shrugs. âI just felt like it, all right?â
I sit down beside her.
âYou look kind of sad. Are you sure everythingâs okay?â
âNo.â She shakes her head. âMy parents have friends over for brunch, and they brought their obnoxious smart kid, and theyâre all talking about