Chapter 2 – “Hey Girl” - Stephen Sanchez
AUGUST
“HEY GIRL” - STEPHEN SANCHEZ
AGE ELEVEN - MAY
Late May sunshine burns the back of my head as I climb to the top of Hillside Road, making my way home from school. Adjusting to life in Pacific Shores hasn’t been the most pleasant experience, and I couldn’t be more excited that the school year is about to end.
Moving to a new town, a new school, and a new grade as the runt kid isn’t fun for anyone, I’m sure.
Today was extra rough, though. I get teased for still wearing glasses because I’m afraid of contact lenses, or for spending lunch hour reading a book rather than playing kickball.
But the worst part is, I don’t care if other kids make fun of me for it, and that seems to upset them more.
So, they get meaner, harsher, more aggressive.
As I reach the end of our road, the big, purple trees that line our yard are on full display.
I think my mom calls them jacarandas or something.
They were regular old green trees when we moved into the house last summer, but earlier this spring, they exploded into bright purple flowers, covering our entire lawn in shades of violet and lavender.
What I don’t expect as I close in on my parents’ two-story house is a girl.
She has to be around the same age as me, long, dark hair falling down her back as she hoists herself onto a higher branch of the jacaranda tree, holding her T-shirt out in front of her and plucking flowers off the stems, letting them fall into the pouch her shirt creates.
I step closer to her, standing on the sidewalk and watching from below as she climbs higher and higher.
She doesn’t seem to notice me, which gives me a second to study her closely.
She’s small, like me, wearing a black shirt and a pair of jeans, that dark curly hair swept back into a low ponytail that sways between her shoulders as she concentrates on picking a flower above her head.
“Hey!” I call out.
She gasps, head snapping down at my voice.
She stumbles, rocking sideways and nearly losing her balance.
My stomach shrinks up, afraid she’ll fall, before she catches herself on the branch she’s sitting on.
Unfortunately, all the flowers in her shirt spill, sprinkling to the ground in front of me like snowflakes.
“Dammit!” she shrieks.
I run up to the tree, gathering her fallen petals in my own shirt. “Sorry,” I hiss. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, what did you think was gonna happen?” she mutters as she effortlessly shimmies down the trunk, jumping to the ground right in front of me.
I finish picking up her flowers, gathering them in my shirt like she did, but when I straighten and see her face up close for the first time, the fabric falls from my grasp and her flowers tumble to the ground again.
She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
With her hands on her hips, her brown eyes are narrowed to slits as she glares at me, but at just the right angle, the sun shines on them, and they look like caramel syrup.
Her lips are turned into a frown, and for the first time in my life, I find myself wanting to say or do something—anything—to make a girl smile.
Those eyes slowly drag from my face to my feet, watching her flowers pile on the grass for the second time. She crosses her arms, sighing, before lifting her gaze.
“What are you staring at?”
That snaps me out of it. I squat all too quickly. “No—nothing.” I begin gathering her flowers again.
She drops to her knees in front of me, helping pick up the petals. “Who are you?”
“My name is Augustus,” I say, unsure why my voice is shaking. “But most people call me August. I guess the effort of those last two letters is too much for them.”
She laughs at that, and my chest feels like it’s going to explode.
“My name is Elena, but my friend Leo calls me Lena. I guess the E is too much work for him, too.” I match her laughter, and she raises her eyes to my face with a smirk. “So, why are you yelling at girls in trees, Augustus?”
I shrug. “I was just wondering what you were doing in my front yard.”
Her eyes go wide, and if I’m not mistaken, a bit of a blush colors her cheeks. “This is your house?”
I laugh again, nodding.
“My whole life, I only knew Miss Waterson to live here, and I thought she was way too old to have a kid.”
“Was that the lady who lived here before us?” I chuckle. “I think they moved her into a home. My parents bought the house last summer.”
“Oh.” She looks at her hands, seeming embarrassed. “Miss Waterson was so old, she never noticed when I’d steal her flowers in the spring. I guess I’ll have to stop doing that, then.”
“My mom definitely wouldn’t like you climbing our tree, but…I could? If you wanted. I’ll pick the flowers for you.”
A smile explodes on her cheeks, but she hides it just as quickly. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind!” I find myself shouting, and her head rears back, as if surprised by my eagerness.
Rein it in, Augustus . I’m bad at talking to girls in general, even the ones who don’t make my stomach hurt with how pretty they are, and Elena is by far the prettiest. “I mean…” I clear my throat. “It’s no big deal. Do you live far?”
She hides a knowing smile, and I feel stupid. “No. Just one street over. Oceanside Avenue.”
“Are you in middle school?” I ask. “I feel like I would’ve noticed you if we went to school together, so you must be older.” She smiles at me again, and I notice the purple and black chains across her teeth. “I like the color of your braces. Is purple your favorite color?”
Jesus, why am I asking her so many questions?
Somebody tape my mouth shut.
She snorts. “Yes, I’m in middle school. I’m in seventh grade.
” Elena smiles to herself, plucking at the petals of the small flower in her hand.
“And yeah, purple is my favorite color. Wild violets are my favorite flowers. I love that they’re all purple and then have a little burst of yellow in the middle.
” She shrugs. “My dad calls them weeds, but I think they’re pretty.
I like to let them dry out and make bookmarks out of them.
But I add other flowers too, and since these trees don’t bloom all year round, I try to pick some before they die,” she says, waving to the drooping bundles of purple flowers above our heads.
“I like purple too,” I respond. “And I like to read.”
Her head snaps up, and the most genuine smile I think I’ve ever seen flashes across her face. “Really? What’s your favorite book?”
“Right now? Probably Percy Jackson and the Olympians.”
Elena shoots up on her knees, crossing the space between us and setting a hand on my knee.
Every atom in my body seems to head straight for her touch, and I’m buzzing.
“I love Percy Jackson!” She’s the one squealing with excitement now, and I can’t help the smile it brings to my face. “I annotated the whole series!”
“What’s annotating?” I ask, trying to think of anything other than the way her hand feels on my leg.
“Oh, it’s like…highlighting your favorite passages and making little notes in the margins, putting tabs on those pages so you can go back and find them later.” She smiles at me. “Sometimes, I draw little doodles too, but I’m not very good at drawing. I don’t like doing things I’m no good at.”
That makes me laugh for some reason. “I like to draw.”
Her head tilts sideways, and I decide her smile is my favorite one I’ve ever seen. “Are you good at it? Drawing?”
I shrug. “My mom says I am.”
She’s laughing at me now. Her head drops, and for the first time, I think she realizes she’s touching me. She quickly removes her hand and falls back onto the grass. “I like you, Augustus.”
Is this what having a heart attack feels like?
My heart is beating so hard, I wonder if it’s leaving an imprint beneath my shirt. I can’t breathe because my stomach is blocking my airway, but somehow, I say the words, “I like you too, Elena.”
She smiles to herself, stuffing the flower petals into her shirt as she stands. “Do you want to hang out this weekend? I can bring you my copy of The Lightning Thief so you can see my annotations?”
I try to keep myself calm, but the truth is, I want to scream and run in circles like an excited puppy. “Sure.” I force myself to stay on the ground, to stop my smile from growing too wide. “That sounds fun.”
“Have you been to Sweet Rue’s on the Boardwalk? We could meet there and get ice cream?”
“Okay.” I’m lactose intolerant, but I’m not about to tell her that. I’ll eat all the ice cream and suffer everything that comes afterward if I get to see her again.
I get up and swipe the dirt from my knees. “I’m normally not allowed to go down to the Boardwalk without my older brother, Zach, but he won’t care. He’ll just leave me at the ice cream shop and go surfing or something.”
Elena’s entire body goes still. Where she was vibrating with excitement before, she’s frozen now. “Zach?” she asks, tilting her head. “Wait, what’s your last name?”
“Hayes,” I say. “My brother is in eighth grade, so you go to school with him. I’m only in sixth grade.”
Her jaw drops, pretty brown eyes going wide with shock. “Your brother is Zach Hayes ?”
“Yeah?”
“Oh shit.” Elena steps back, planting herself on the sidewalk in front of the house. “Zach Hayes lives here ? I was climbing Zach Hayes’s tree ?”
“I guess?”
I’m confused. That is, until I notice her breathing increase, notice the change in color on her cheeks, the way she frantically looks around my home, gazing through its windows as if she’s searching for something. Someone.
It hits me then.
“You know my brother?”
It’s the way she drops her head, hides her smile, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I’ve seen way too many girls do that way too many times in Zach’s presence.
“Yeah.” She bites her lip, blushing. “I mean…we talk on the phone sometimes. He helps me with my math homework.”
The butterflies begging to explode out of my body only moments ago all seem to perish, their still wings like dead weight inside the bottom of my stomach. Disappointment punches me right in the gut, making me fight the urge to keel over and die right along with those butterflies.
Elena is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
She likes my favorite book. She didn’t call me a loser when I told her I draw.
She’s funny. She told me she liked me. When I made her smile, I felt something in my chest I’ve never felt before.
And Elena has a crush on my older brother.
She’s still looking toward the front of my house, the massive purple tree hanging over us like a daydream, the house behind it acting as the harsh, unfair reality that is my brother.
He’s handsome—with perfect eyesight—and charming.
He plays just about every sport ever invented, and he’s the captain of every team.
He has gone through puberty and had his growth spurt while I’m still small.
He always says the right thing, knows how to talk to girls. I’m awkward and shy.
I hate him sometimes. I hate him most of all right now.
“He’s not home right now,” I say to Elena, trying to keep my voice still. “He doesn’t get home until after?—”
“Baseball practice.” She nods. “Yeah, I know. I must’ve forgotten.” Her eyes meet mine, and suddenly, all that intense focus has fallen back on me. Suddenly, I don’t care about my brother. I don’t care about much of anything except her looking at me. “So…Sweet Rue’s on Saturday at noon?”
She still wants to hang out with me?
Speechless, I only nod.
Elena smiles again, and it’s not the meek, hidden blush that appeared when I mentioned my brother. It’s bigger, it’s real. Something she’s not afraid to hide from me, though I wonder if her smile is something she tries to hide from others.
“If you can’t come, just have your brother text me and let me know.” She begins down the sidewalk toward Oceanside Avenue. “Bye, Augustus!” She waves before she’s out of sight.
“Bye, Elena.” I wave back.
I still feel the burn of her touch on my knee as I stare down at the sprinkles of purple flowers she left behind. I pick them up, gathering them in my pockets before I go inside.
I know I had a horrible day before I stumbled upon her, but now, I can’t seem to remember what was so bad.