Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Twelve Years Old
The blue ICEE crinkles as I squeeze it. The heat is so bad today, but Mrs. Bates keeps giving us treats. Jeremy says I don’t have to call his mom that, but it feels weird to call her anything else.
“Thanks, Mom,” Jeremy says as she brings out orange slices. My heart does a weird flutter. Jeremy calls her mom like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it pulls at something in my chest.
I don’t call Mrs. Amy Mom. She’s my foster mom.
Has been since I was seven. My real mom does drugs.
Or, so Mrs. Amy says. I overheard her say once, when I got up to go to the bathroom, that Mom cared more about being with my dad than she ever did about me.
Mrs. Amy said it like it was a bad thing, but that means that Mom loves my dad.
She loves him with everything she has. And that’s a good thing. Right?
I squint in the summer sun, water condensing against my fingers. Mrs. Bates loves Jeremy. She must also bring orange slices and popsicles to Mr. Bates. Because that’s what love is. It’s being there for your family.
Jeremy throws his orange peel over the fence into the cow pasture. “Come on, I have something to show you.”
Abandoning my finished ICEE, I follow him. Jeremy is one of the coolest people I know. He and I only started talking right before summer, but we’ve become best friends. Mrs. Amy lets me call him every day, and he’s even invited me on a hunting trip with him and Mr. Bates right after school starts.
My heart skips thinking about it, and I run after Jeremy, the long summer grass whipping against my legs. I’ve never been invited to something like that before. I’ve never really been invited to anything, actually.
“Hurry up, weirdo.”
I smile. I’m kinda the weird kid, but Jeremy acts like I’m not. He acts like I’m someone he wants to be friends with, and that just makes me smile so hard I can’t stop.
We’re at the very edge of their yard where it meets the pasture and the treeline. Jeremy bends down, and I catch up, panting for breath. It’s so hot today I can feel the sweat trickling down the back of my neck.
He’s looking at a cage. A raccoon trap. And there’s something in it.
A fox.
I suck in a breath of air. It’s so pretty. It has a red coat, black-lined eyes, and a tail that looks like it’s been dipped in white paint. The fox is panting, staring at both of us.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“Yeah.” Jeremy rips up a long piece of grass and starts poking it through the cage. The fox has nowhere to go and shifts, baring its teeth. It looks hot and scared. Jeremy keeps poking it.
“Hey,” I snatch at the grass.
“What?” Jeremy turns to me, frowning.
“Don’t.”
He blinks. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t tease it.” I stare again at the animal whose breathing is so fast.
“Really?” Jeremy crosses his arms. I turn to see he’s cocking his hip, giving me a look that makes my stomach clench. Is he mad at me?
My shoulder twitches, and I rub it. My shoulder always twitches when I get nervous, and I hate it.
“Dad’s gonna shoot it anyway, what does it matter?”
“What?” I ask, stomach tightening.
“Uh, yeah.” Jeremy grabs another piece of grass. “It’s a fox.” He starts poking the fox again, and I watch helplessly as the animal’s fur twitches, but it doesn’t run. It has nowhere to go.
“He’s going to kill it just because it’s a fox?” I ask.
Jeremy turns and gives me a look that makes me feel stupid. Like I should have known the answer already.
I look at the ground. I don’t like not knowing what everyone else does. But also, this seems wrong. Why kill something just because you can?
I want to ask. The question bubbles up in me, but Jeremy seems to lose interest. “Hey, wanna go jump in the pond?” He sounds normal again. Not like he’s mad at me. But maybe he is? If he’s mad, is he going to stop being friends with me? Why did I ask him that?
I let out a breath and agree. Because Jeremy is my best friend, and I’ll do whatever he wants to keep him from being mad. To keep him from leaving.
But all day, all I can think about is that poor fox out in the sun. When Mrs. Amy comes to pick me up, I hesitate. I know if I leave that fox, Mr. Bates will shoot it when he comes home. The fox didn’t do anything. It’s not fair.
Reluctantly, I climb into the car, and we pull out of the driveway. I feel like I’m doing something wrong the whole time.
We drive away.
This is wrong. I can’t do this.
“Stop!” I yell.
Mrs. Amy looks back.
“Stop, I forgot something.”
Mrs. Amy makes an annoyed sound, but turns the car around. I hope desperately that Jeremy has gone back inside. This is something I need to do alone.
As soon as we get back to the driveway and I notice Jeremy isn’t in sight, I dart out of the car, sprinting to the end of the yard. It’s not a short distance, and by the time I get there, I’m panting. The fox is still there, curled up in a ball.
The fox is alone with no family. No one to help it. And for some reason, that thought makes tears well up in my eyes. With shaking hands, I look at the trap to figure out how to open it. Prying my fingers under the metal piece that’s closing the trap, I lift.
For a second, the fox just watches me.
“Go!” I hiss, still panting for breath. I look over my shoulder to see if anyone’s watching me.
When I look away, I hear scrambling, then the fox darts out of the cage. It moves past me so quickly that I startle, dropping the door. Then, the fox is gone, fleeing into the woodline.
Suddenly, it feels like I can take a breath again.
A car horn honks, and I get up, jogging back to Mrs. Amy. It’s then that I notice someone on the back porch, watching me. It’s Jeremy.
I want to duck my head and hide, but there’s nowhere to hide. I just keep running till I get to the car and slide in.
Jeremy can be mad all he wants. It’s not fair to hate something for no reason. That fox deserved to go back to its family.
The next day, I wait for Jeremy to call me at lunch like he usually does. But lunchtime passes, and he doesn’t call.
He’s mad at me. I know he is. He’s my only friend. I knew I would mess it up. I always do.
My stomach twists, and I look at the clock above the stove. He didn’t say he was mad, though. He didn’t frown or yell when he saw me. He’ll call.
I wait for two hours and ten minutes, and still no call.
Mrs. Amy has a notepad by the phone where I write down the times I want to use it. She usually talks to her friends when I’m not on the phone, since she says I hog it on my game. I need to go to the bathroom, but he still hasn’t called.
I underline my Jeremy, 12PM note, then run to the bathroom. While there, I decide he’s definitely mad at me, and now I’m convinced I need to apologize. So when I’m back, with shaking hands, I pick up the phone.
Jeremy picks up on the second ring. “Oh, hey!” He sounds cheerful.
“Hey,” I say, feeling unsure. He doesn't sound mad. “What are you doing?”
“Playing.” I can hear the sounds of shooting in the background. “Why haven’t you hopped on?”
“Oh.” Quickly, I get myself to the TV. So maybe he isn’t mad, and he got distracted? I boot up the game, and it takes forever to power up, but Jeremy just yells something at the game. “Get in here, man, these people are cheating.”
Slowly, I settle into the game. My pits are still sweating, but as time goes on and Jeremy acts normal, I realize things will be fine. I was just overreacting. Everything is fine. It’s going to be okay.
Jeremy forgets to call more and more often. His name is up on the notepad with more and more crossed-out times.
I start to call him when he’s an hour late, then just thirty minutes, then finally on the hour.
I don’t like the waiting, wondering where he is or what he is doing.
It’s lonely in the house. Mrs. Amy goes into her office and closes the door for most of the afternoon.
There’s a very strict rule not to bother her while she works.
Then Jeremy starts talking differently. He says, ‘you know that’s right’ over and over again, even though he never used to say it before.
Sometimes, he doesn’t pick up right away, even though I see he’s online in the game.
But every time he does answer, he’s always happy to hear from me.
And I don’t stop calling, because the house gets so quiet, and Jeremy is the first friend I really feel I can call my best friend.
Then school starts again. Jeremy is in most of my classes, and so is another kid, Andrew. He’s cool and everything I want to be—confident, funny, and popular. Immediately, I hate him. But I put up with him because Jeremy seems to like him. I don’t want to do anything that would make Jeremy annoyed.
The hog hunting trip is next week. I’ve been researching everything I can about the sport. It turns my stomach a little, but I try to tell myself we’ll be eating the animal after. Maybe even Mrs. Amy’s husband, Mr. Bill, will be proud of me.
The only thing is, Jeremy hasn’t said anything about it in a while. I don’t want to seem overexcited and bring it up first, but the trip is in like a week.
Finally, I can’t take it any longer. We’ve only been calling every few days to play our games. Jeremy says he has to focus on school, so right after he picks up, I ask, “So what shoes are you bringing for the trip?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
I wince at the silence. Oh no, why did I ask that?
Why do I have to be so weird? So, I keep talking.
“I was thinking my boots, but I don’t want to run in them really, so maybe my sneakers, but then what if something happens…
” I trail off. Jeremy still hasn’t responded.
“So, uh, yeah,” I mutter.
“Uh, well…” Jeremy says. “I kinda didn’t think you wanted to go on that trip. I invited Andrew since I thought you didn’t want to go. ”
My stomach bottoms out. He did what? No, no, no, this can’t be happening. I need to fix this. How do I fix this? Did I miss something?
“I mean, after the fox, I didn’t think you’d want to…”
The silence is so painful, I rush to fill it up. “Oh yeah, no. That’s fine.” But my brain is screaming that it’s anything but fine. The fox. I freed the fox. I should have ignored the fox.
There’s a voice in the background, then Jeremy says, his voice a little distant, “You know that’s right.” Then it sounds like his mouth comes back to the phone. “Sorry, I can ask my dad if you still want to come.”
Is there someone with him? There’s a laugh, then I hear Mrs. Bates say something that sounds a lot like, “Do you need a snack, Andrew?”
My ears ring. Andrew’s over there? Why didn’t he invite me? What did I do wrong?
“Do you want me to ask?” Jeremy asks.
“Oh, uh, no. That’s fine.” I’m not sure what I’m saying. He invited Andrew over, not me.
I think we keep playing the game. I’m not sure. I’m going through the motions, pretending like my chest doesn’t hurt and my throat isn’t tight. But still, I refuse to sign off before Jeremy does. Finally, he tells me that dinner is ready and hangs up the phone.
I stare at the phone for a while. He hung up. He doesn’t want to be friends with me. I’ve lost him. My only friend. I ruined this again. I always ruin everything.
I stare at the wall until Mrs. Amy calls me for dinner. I eat, but I don’t taste anything. Because Jeremy doesn’t want to be friends with me. I should have known it was too good to be true. No one wants to be friends with me.
My throat feels tight for the rest of the night and again when I wake up.
I put on a brave face, but I can’t help but feel like no one wants me.
And yet, I still put his name on the notepad by the phone.
And later, when Jeremy calls, I still pick up.
There’s a brief moment when he calls, where everything feels like it’ll be okay.
Then, on the day before the trip, I spot Jeremy in the halls. I move up to wish him a good time, but when I wave at him, Jeremy doesn’t respond. I cock my head and wave again. He’s looking right at me. Still nothing.
Then his face lights up. I turn to see Andrew behind me. He skips down the hall, high-fiving Jeremy with a ‘you know that’s right.’
I watch them skip down the hall together, throat closing.
Why am I never good enough?