Chapter 3
Chapter Three
ELIZABETH
Seventh Grade
The Beginning of Change
T he humid, chlorine-scented air is electric with excitement as Jayson slices through the water with ease. His legs and arms pump rhythmically, and his head tilts for a breath after every third stroke.
Standing on the bleachers, I cheer him on, barely able to contain myself.
“Faster, Jayson! Go! Go! You can do it!”
Beside me, Ryder purses his fingers between his lips and lets out an ear-piercing whistle.
Jayson is neck-and-neck with one of the swimmers from the opposing team in the next lane, and it has come down to the final seconds.
“You’re almost there!” I shout.
Jayson surges forward with a sudden burst of energy, his muscles rippling beneath the water’s surface. He stretches out, fingertips grazing the touchpad at the end of his lane an arm’s length before his closest competitor, and the air around us explodes with noise.
He rips off his goggles, looks up at the board to see his time, then scans the stands before his eyes find our group. The smile that lights up his face is blinding. I am so freaking proud of that boy. Jayson just demolished the district’s freestyle record for his age group.
I grab hold of Julien’s shoulders and shake him silly. “He did it!” I shout, my voice barely audible over the uproar of celebration.
As soon as Jayson hauls himself out of the water, his coach and teammates swarm him in an ecstatic group hug.
“He’s not going to have any bones left,” Ryder says, taking pity on Julien and prying me off him.
As soon as Jayson heads in our direction, I leap off the bleachers and tackle him in a fierce hug, not caring one bit that he’s dripping water all over me.
I grab his face. “I am so super, duper, awesomely proud of you!”
His hands press over mine. “Thanks, Liz,” he says softly.
Jayson’s opponent, the second-place finisher, comes over.
Swiping a hand through his damp, blond curls, he says, “That was pretty epic. I thought I had you, and then you shot away from me. I didn’t stand a chance. I’m Elijah. I go to Highland Middle.”
“Thanks, man,” Jayson replies, tapping Elijah’s proffered fist. “I had to push myself hard just to stay even with you. You’re really good.”
Elijah’s hazel gaze shifts to me. “Is this your sister?”
My stomach does a little flip, my cheeks instantly warming. I tuck a loose strand of my pale hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious.
“I’m Elizabeth, the best friend, not the sister.”
Elijah shuffles his bare feet on the wet concrete. “Um, so, my team’s heading out. Our coach is taking us for pizza.” He pauses. “I was wondering…maybe I could get your number, so we could, you know, text sometime?”
Before I can respond, Ryder says, “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
Wait, what?
Elijah’s face falls, and he gives me a small, awkward smile. “Oh, okay. Well, it was nice meeting you,” he mumbles, then turns to rejoin his teammates, looking dejected.
I turn wide, incredulous eyes toward Ryder. “What the heck was that for?”
Ryder just grins and casually slings his arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the exit before I know what’s happening.
“Who’s ready for some burgers?” he asks no one in particular.
“That wasn’t very nice. Did you see the look on his face?”
Jayson scoops me up, laughing as he practically shoves me into Ryder’s mom’s minivan.
“You were rude to him,” I continue, but my admonishments fall on deaf ears.
“Not happening, Liz,” Jayson says, grabbing a hoodie off the passenger seat and pulling it over his head.
Ryder’s mom, Faith, finds me in the rearview mirror. “Who was rude?”
“Them,” I accuse.
Climbing into the back row, Julien drops into the seat and buckles up. “I didn’t do anything.”
Ryder goes to the back with Julien, and Jayson slides in next to me.
“Dude asked for her number,” Jayson says.
Ryder’s dad, Randy, chuckles from the driver’s seat as he pulls out of the parking lot. Faith smacks his shoulder.
“Not helping, dear.”
Not done with our conversation, I vocally huff and cross my arms over my chest to show my displeasure.
“Elijah was really nice. He even came over to congratulate you. So what if he wanted my number?”
Apparently, I’m now invisible because the boys start talking about the swim meet and the new dirt bike Ryder got.
I take out my phone to text my friend Maria. She’ll listen to me.
Me: Ugh! Boys!
It doesn’t take long for her to reply.
Maria: Who?
Me: Who do you think? The three idiots I’m being forced to share a car ride with right now.
Maria: What did they do?
Me: What is it Jamie’s boyfriend says all the time when Brea hangs around and won’t leave them alone?
Maria: Have no clue what you’re talking about.
Me: This cute boy from Highland asked for my number. Ryder shut him down before I could say anything.
Maria: OMG!!! Tell me!! Did you get his number?
Me: NO!
Maria: Was he cute?
Me: Yeah. Curly blond hair. Tall. Pretty hazel eyes.
Maria: Doesn’t sound like someone you’d go for. Not your usual type.
Me: I have a type?
Maria: Jayson. He’s more your type. Dark hair. Broody.
Me: You’re crazy.
I surreptitiously peek at Jayson, then snap back to face forward when he glances over.
Maria may have a point. But it’s not only Jayson. I’ve been crushing hard on him and Ryder for a while. It sucks being best friends with guys you also want to kiss. But that’s never going to happen. I know that.
For the rest of the car ride, I sit quietly and do a little brooding myself as I stare out the window. When we arrive at Ryder’s house, Jayson is the first to hop out.
Grabbing his duffel from the back, he says, “Going to take a quick shower to rinse off the chlorine.”
Ryder tosses him the keys to the house. “Don’t use all my shampoo like last time.”
Jayson catches them midair, and without missing a beat, shoots Ryder the middle finger.
The rest of our group pulls in behind us, my parents and sister in our SUV, and Freda, Mitch, and Brea in their truck.
Hailey and Brea skip off hand in hand, their laughter fading as they disappear inside the house. Ryder, Julien, and I follow the paver-stone pathway that leads to the backyard.
The sun sinks lower on the horizon, casting a blend of pink and soft orange light across the sky. Puffy clouds, tinted in the same pastel hues, float lazily overhead, their edges catching the final glimmers of daylight. The sun won’t set for another hour, but Ryder gets to work on lighting a fire to help keep the mosquitoes away.
Settling into our Adirondack chairs circling the firepit, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees as late afternoon quickly deepens to the bluish-purple of dusk. While Ryder and Julien talk about cars, I look up at the sky and count each star as they appear.
The tranquil quietude is broken when the back screen door bangs open. Jayson strolls outside, wearing one of Ryder’s Randy’s Custom Auto T-shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants, hair slicked back and arms loaded with canned drinks.
Handing everyone a soda, he collapses into the chair beside his brother with a relieved sigh and hooks a leg over the armrest.
“Coach told me after my heat that they would do an assembly on Friday to celebrate my record-beating time.”
Ryder raises his can of soda. “You are a badass.”
I’m so proud of each of their accomplishments. Jayson smashes it at swimming. Julien plays soccer. Last year, his team made it to the state finals, but they lost by one point. Mr. Cutton has been teaching Ryder how to drift at the Fields, a dirt track built on one of Mr. Jacoby’s abandoned agricultural fields that sits between Fallen Brook and Highland. Even though Ryder has three more years before he gets his license, he already drives like a pro. He’s that good.
The twins and I frequently go out to watch him. Sometimes, his dad lets us sit in the back seat while Ryder spins the car around the dirt track. It feels like being stuck on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the amusement park. Maybe Ryder will teach me how to drive like that someday—crazy and wild, and a little dangerous.
“Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?” I blurt.
“Nope,” is the simultaneous answer I get back from my three best friends.
“Seriously?”
Julien pops open his soda and takes a sip. “Some guy comes over when he sees you with three other guys, and without checking with us first, decides it’s okay to ask you out. That’s not cool.” He points his can in my direction and takes another sip.
“Says who? The no-fun police?” I grouse.
“You’re too young to date,” Ryder says.
I aspirate my drink. “You don’t get to decide when I start dating. You can’t control my life like that. It’s not fair. I don’t tell you which girl to like,” I choke out.
Jayson pats my back until my cough settles down, then squats on his haunches in front of my chair, those silver-moon eyes boring into me.
“Do you really want to go out with Elijah?”
I look down at his hand touching mine. For some reason I feel like I want to cry.
“No,” I whisper.
I don’t want to date Elijah. I just wish everyone would stop acting like they have a say in my life. It feels like I’m never given the chance to make my own decisions before the guys jump in and take over. I know they mean well, but it’s frustrating.
Julien nudges my foot with his shoe. “You good?”
He’s always been the more empathetic one and can easily pick up on my feelings.
“Yep.”
I go back to watching the stars.
Once Jamie, Ryder’s older sister, and her boyfriend Jack arrive, the parentals congregate on the back deck, enjoying their beer and light conversation as Mr. Cutton mans the grill. No one cooks a hamburger like him, and my stomach is already growling in anticipation.
Soon enough, dinner is in full swing, and I join in the banter and happy laughter that circulates the firepit. I smile at Daddy when his eyes find me. He’s on break for a month from touring with his band. I miss him so much when he’s gone, so little moments like this, even tiny ones like a shared smile or quick glance, mean the world to me. Video calls and text messages help when he’s away but having him physically here with us is so much better.
Just as I’m thinking about heading inside to grab stuff to make s’mores, Dad’s voice cuts through the comfortable hum.
“Want to put on a show, puddin’?”
I look up and notice the two guitars he’s holding by the neck in each hand. He had disappeared a few minutes earlier and must have gotten them from the house.
Happiness explodes like a glitter bomb inside my chest. I love performing with my dad.
“Absolutely.”
He hands me my acoustic first, then loops his guitar strap around his neck. Taking out two picks from his pocket, he offers me one.
I lightly strum my guitar and adjust the tuning pegs.
“This is something I’ve been practicing.”
I play the intro to “Stitches” by Shawn Mendes. Dad waits a beat, then joins in as the percussion parts of the song, slapping and thumping his hands on the body of his guitar. His deeper voice melds with mine, and we sound like John Cozart’s a cappella cover of the song. Freda and Mom take out their phones to record our impromptu concert. Jamie, Brea, and Hailey provide background vocals, and I’m completely shocked when Ryder joins in as well. He hates singing in front of people. Jayson and Julien whoop it up, stomping their feet and hitting the arms of their chairs to the beat. When we get to the end of the song, everyone sings the last lyrics.
Jayson reaches across the gap between our chairs and brushes a hand down the length of my hair. It’s his quiet way of apologizing. And just like that, our disagreement and my hurt feelings from earlier evaporate into mist.
As ten o’clock approaches, Faith brings out blankets for us to lie on, so we can watch the meteor shower forecasted to happen. The best viewing times are supposed to occur after midnight, but hopefully we’ll get to see one or two before then.
Once Ryder and Julien stretch our blanket out flat, I lie down. Jayson rolls in next to me, and I use his shoulder for a pillow. Julien reposes back and rests his head on my stomach, his face gazing up at the sky. Ryder extends his long legs and gets situated on the other side of me, our hands gravitating toward one another, pinkies linking.
We lie there, tangled in the quiet, the stillness between us perfect, like we’ve always known how to fit together this way. In these moments, nothing else matters. Just being here, together, is enough.
Yawning widely, I catch the tail end of a faint flicker of light streaking across the inky darkness.
“Make a wish,” Jayson says.
I close my eyes and wish upon a shooting star.
“What did you wish for?” he asks when my eyelids blink open.
I just smile.