8. Cole
“Hey, Fredrickson.”
The strap of my backpack slips off my shoulder as I twist to look behind me. Standing on the corner of the sidewalk I just stepped off is Sydney, wearing a bright-yellow hoodie and a black headband that’s nestled between her wavy locks.
Behind her, students are swarming out of the school in a rush to get to their after-school destinations. But she simply stands there, clearly not in a hurry to get anywhere fast.
My heart ticks a few beats faster at the sight of her. She’s a stranger, really, but I’ve been around her enough now to know this interaction with her will likely be the only bright spot left in my day.
“Now who’s following who?” I ask, the corner of my mouth tipping up. I slide my hands into my pockets and shift my weight onto the balls of my feet as I wait to see what she’ll say. The juxtaposition of her sunshiney outward demeanor and the sullen pain I can see underneath was something I picked up on right away and has kept me curious enough to wonder what her life is like.
Her playful grin is visible even as she dips her head toward the ground. There’s something about her… An aura. An energy. Even as she stays firmly in one spot, it’s as if she’s got some sort of vivacity that bubbles from the inside out. A zest for life that I’m self-aware enough to know I’ve never had and probably never will.
“I saw you walking.” She shrugs. “Figured I’d say hi.”
I stare at her for a long pause, trying to figure her out, before offering her a simple, “Well, hi.”
Her smile falters slightly as the silence stretches between us. She flicks her gaze back down as she kicks at the dirt, a hesitation in her stance. When she looks back up, there’s a subtle question in her stare, as if she’s searching—or waiting—for something. But I’m at a loss for what that could be.
“You want to walk with me?” I offer, feeling stupid as soon as the words leave my mouth. Of course she doesn’t.
“Okay,” she says almost immediately. A flash of something close to relief passes on her face. It’s a familiar enough look I know all too well.
A distraction, then.
That’s what she needs.
“Where are you heading?” she asks, a bit of a zip back in her step as she falls into place next to me. “Do you walk to school every day?”
“Not every day,” I answer, continuing down the road. I surprise myself when I feel the urge to keep talking instead of giving the bare minimum I usually do in conversations. “Only on days like today when I have the afternoon shift at the bait shop. It only makes sense with the shop being so close to school. I’ll walk back to get my car at school when I’m done.”
“The bait shop, huh?” she inquires.
“Yup.” It’s hard to hide the disdain in my voice as I grumble, “It’s a dream. Nothing quite like wrangling minnows and smelling like nightcrawlers when I leave.”
She snorts. “Do you like to fish?”
I shrug. “About as much as any other guy around here, I guess.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing. What do you do for fun, then?”
“What is this? Twenty questions?” I huff a quiet laugh, but it’s not lost on me that not even a tiny bit of me minds her interest. In fact, I might even be enjoying it.
I’m used to being on my own, as I’ve always been somewhat of a loner. I’m self-aware enough to know I keep it that way mostly out of self-preservation. The last thing I want to do is let anyone get close enough to unravel the truth about my home life.
She only smiles expectantly, waiting for me to answer.
I roll my lips together, casting my gaze downward as I share something I hardly ever admit aloud to anyone else, but for some reason, it feels okay to do with her now.
“I like to make stuff. Out of wood. Woodworking.” I stumble on the words, not liking being vulnerable enough to talk about myself.
“Oh, that’s cool! What’s the last thing you made?”
I swallow, kicking at a rock, watching it ricochet off the curb.
“Um, I finished a chess board yesterday.”
“That’s impressive.” She smiles, shifting her backpack on her shoulder. “I love chess.”
“What about you? Do you have a job?” I ask as we follow the curve of the road that heads straight for town.
“I help out at Ruby Lodge any chance I can. That’s my family’s fishing resort out on Takini Island.” She offers the explanation, even though she didn’t need to. Even if my uncle didn’t have his own cabin on the same island, I would still know where Ruby Lodge is. You’d have to live under a rock in this small town to not know where every single business, resort, or restaurant within fifty miles is. Besides, I remember when Graham had to skip practice a few times last year to run out there and help with an emergency or two.
“I answer the phones, book reservations, or help in the kitchen. Basically, pitch in wherever I’m needed,” she explains.
“Sounds like a better gig than the bait shop,” I comment.
I catch her smile out of the corner of my eye as I run my fingers through my hair out of habit.
“What happened there?” I follow her pointed finger to my wrist, where a black-and-purple bruise wraps around it. I immediately tuck my hand back into my pocket, feeling caught off guard.
“Oh, uh…I ran into the corner of my desk in my room,” I lie.
“Ouch.” She cringes. I don’t expand on it, and thankfully she doesn’t press with any further questions.
Once again, we fall into a comfortable silence. She sure likes to talk, which I don’t seem to mind as much as I do with other people, but I’m also finding the quiet feels good with her too.
I wait patiently for her to bring up my dad, as everyone always eventually does, and I've already got a backlist of several different ways I can redirect the conversation away from that particular topic. Talking about my family isn’t something I do. Period. Maybe if my mom hadn’t run off when I was a kid and my dad wasn’t such an asshole, I would think differently.
But here we are.
I’m pleasantly surprised to reach the sidewalk in front of the bait shop with no mention of them. I turn to face her, feeling unsure of what I’m supposed to do now. Obviously, I can’t offer to walk her back to school, but it doesn’t feel right to just leave her. Do I really just go inside while she walks back alone? That doesn’t sit right with me.
“Well, thanks for letting me tag along,” she says cheerfully.
“I feel bad that you have to walk all the way back now,” I say, forcing my thoughts out in the open.
“Nah.” She waves her hand in dismissal. “I don’t mind. It’s a nice day.”
She starts backing away but keeps her gaze on me. A comforting warmth spreads in my chest as I hold her stare. The possibility of a genuine friendship—maybe even something more—blooms faintly in my chest.
I clear my throat, a silent warning to myself to not hope for too much. My life has always gone a certain way, and this will be no different. I can almost bet on it.
“Well, see ya around.” I tip the corner of my mouth up in a small smile before heading inside the bait shop.