Chapter 12 Hayden
CHAPTER TWELVE
hayden
APRIL, FRESHMAN YEAR
Ithink at this rate, you’ll be able to join the team by next year! You’re picking up everything so fast.” Alyssa, one of the older girls in the high school rodeo association and a cousin of mine, was talking to Sierra in the arena at my family’s place.
A radiant smile flashed across Sierra’s face, though she still seemed a bit shy. “Thanks.”
“Keep working at it. If you ever want to practice with someone there to give you tips, you have my phone number now.” Alyssa spun on her heel to head to her pickup, giving Sierra a quick wave.
“She’s really good,” she whispered as she passed by me.
“I know,” I whispered back.
Sierra was still standing in the arena with her hands in her pockets, staring at the horse my parents let her ride.
“What are you thinking about?”
She turned her head toward me. “Nothing.” Her eyes betrayed her, though, deep, green pools of sadness.
“You sure? You can tell me, you know.”
Sierra sighed, the whoosh of the air leaving her lungs piercing through the silence between us. “My grandparents had horses. That’s where I learned how to ride. I miss them.”
“Are they…” I hesitated asking whether her grandparents were still alive or not.
“Dead? No. They’re still alive. The horses, too, if that’s what you meant.”
“Oh.” I rolled my lips between my teeth. “Why don’t you go see them?”
“Because I can’t,” she snapped, and my eyes widened at her tone. “Sorry. I just can’t go see them, okay?”
“Okay. Do you want to go inside? My mom’s cooking dinner. You can stay if you want to.”
She pulled out her phone to look at the time. “I can stay for a little while, but then I have to get back home. My mom can come pick me up, though; it’s fine.”
I nodded. Sierra had been really resistant to accepting rides after that first time she came over to the house last fall, despite offers from both me and my parents.
My dad had pulled me aside after we’d gotten home from dropping Sierra off.
“Do you know where your friend lives?” he asked. “She just moved to town, right?”
I shook my head. “Yeah, she just moved here, but she hasn’t mentioned where she lives. She rides the bus and gets on at the stop on Sparrow Lane, though. Why?”
“That house we dropped her off at last night? I don’t think she lives there.”
“Oh, huh. Yeah, I guess not.”
I’d asked her about it the next day at school, and she ignored the question. After that, she didn’t let my parents drive her home anymore.
We headed into the house, and I kicked off my boots by the door.
“Mom, we’re coming inside for a little bit! Sierra’s going to hang out!” I called out, even though I was sure she was just in the kitchen.
I popped around the corner, and, sure enough, she was getting dinner ready.
“Smells good, Mom.”
“Thank you, honey. Do you two have homework you need to get done? Sierra, dear, are you staying for dinner?”
Sierra shifted back and forth on her feet. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re more than welcome to, dear.” She flitted from one end of the kitchen to the other, chopping up vegetables and checking whatever she had on the stove.
“What are you making, Mom?” I asked, trying to peek over her shoulder.
“Chicken and dumplings.”
On my way back to Sierra, I stole a carrot from the counter. “Ooh, my favorite. Mom makes the best chicken and dumplings, so you should definitely stay for dinner.”
Sierra shrugged. “I guess I can ask my mom and see.”
“Awesome! Hey, aren’t you warm? You’ve got a sweatshirt on still.” I tugged on the part of her sweatshirt sleeve covering her elbow, and the cuff hiked up a little ways, revealing dark splotches on her forearm. “Sierra…”
She pulled away, angrily tugging her sleeve back down.
My mom was still preoccupied with dinner, so I lowered my voice, pulling her aside into the hallway. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Her response was flat, devoid of emotion.
“Sierra.”
Her nostrils flared. “Nothing happened, Hayden, okay? Just leave it alone.”
“If you’re in trouble, my dad—”
She put up a hand to stop me, annoyance flaring in her eyes. “Fine. I tripped down the stairs and bumped my arm, okay? Happy?”
No, I wasn’t happy. Not at all. But if continuing to push the subject was going to push her away, then I’d let it rest for now. I’d be keeping a closer eye on her, though. My dad always told me to look out for my friends—to help people whenever I could—and that’s what I was going to do.
“Hayden, honey, could you help me with something?” Mom called from the kitchen.
“Coming!” I gave Sierra one last look. “You can turn on the TV or do whatever you want. I’ll be over there in a second.”
She nodded, the tension from our confrontation still radiating between us in waves.
“Can you make the dumplings for me?” Mom had all of the ingredients laid out on the counter.
We used to do this when I was younger. She taught me how to make all of the dishes she made and said that one day I’d be grateful to know how to make something other than instant ramen or microwave macaroni and cheese.
“Maybe Sierra wants to help, too,” I suggested.
Mom nodded. “Go on and ask her. She can help with the soup.”
Sierra was sitting on the couch with her knees tucked up to her chest. The TV wasn’t playing, so she was just sitting in silence, staring into space.
I approached her slowly, taking care not to startle her. “Hey, do you want to help with dinner? My mom said you could help her with the soup.”
She nodded, slowly getting up from the couch. “Yeah, I’ll help.”
We washed our hands at the kitchen sink together, taking turns rinsing them under the faucet.
“Do you want to roll up your sleeves, dear?” Mom asked Sierra.
I didn’t need to be looking at her to know she froze.
“Oh, n-no, I’m okay. They won’t be in the way.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. You’ll want to melt this butter in the pot, then you can add the vegetables and let them cook for about five minutes.” Mom gave her some instructions, and Sierra jumped on it.
We worked in comfortable silence as the meal started to come together.
The dumplings were always my task for the meal and had been since I was a kid. I’d perfected it by now at age fifteen—not that it was a particularly difficult task to begin with, but compared to my classmates, I was ten steps ahead when it came to cooking.
Before long, the rich aroma of chicken broth and vegetables had enveloped the kitchen. Mom had taken the drop dumplings I’d made and put them in the soup that she and Sierra had put together. Now, all that was left to do was wait until they were done cooking.
“How are you liking school, Sierra?” Mom asked while she cut up some fruit.
Sierra and I had migrated to the stools by the kitchen island, and both of us sipped on cans of soda.
“I like it.” She took a small drink. “It’s different from my old school, but everyone is nice. I like my classes, too.”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” Mom smiled. “I’m sure Hayden has already told you this, but if you ever need anything, we are only a phone call away.”
Sierra’s cheeks flushed pink, and she tugged her sleeves down even more. “Thank you. I-I appreciate that.”
If Mom noticed, she didn’t say anything. “All right, kids, dinner is ready. Why don’t you dish up first, Sierra? Go ahead, help yourself.”
She hopped down from the stool, shyly walking over to the stove. Mom handed her a bowl, and she plated her food quickly, taking a small amount.
“Take as much as you want, honey,” Mom reassured her.
She looked down at her bowl, then back to the stove, gingerly adding more.
“Hayden, come on, buddy.” Mom waved me over.
After scooping up a healthy serving, I joined Sierra at the dining table, Mom following shortly after.
“Thank you again for having me over for dinner.” Sierra sat at the table, not having touched her food yet. I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for us to start or what, so I took a bite of my food to let her know it was okay.
“Absolutely. Thank you so much for helping. Hayden loves to cook. He’s been helping me with dinners since he was in elementary school,” Mom gushed.
“Mom,” I whined, the tips of my ears heating.
“Oh, shush, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Right, Sierra?” She winked at Sierra, whose lips pressed together in a soft smile.
“Yeah. I think it’s sweet,” she murmured, bringing a spoonful of soup up to her mouth. “Whoa, this is really good!” She shoveled more soup and dumplings into her mouth, eliciting a laugh from both me and Mom.
“If you want the recipe, I can give it to you, but there’s a secret ingredient.” Mom smiled.
Sierra’s eyes widened. “Secret ingredient? What is it?” She paused, her eyes bouncing around the room. “Are you allowed to tell me? If it’s a secret.”
“Love.”
“Love?”
Mom nodded, amusement flickering in her gaze. “Yes, love. I firmly believe food always tastes better when it’s made in a kitchen full of love and laughter.”
After Sierra went home, Mom and I sat on the couch, watching TV. Dad wasn’t home yet, and I was struggling to decide whether to bring up what I saw tonight.
“What’s wrong, bud?” Mom must have noticed how restless I was, fidgeting and unable to sit still.
I furrowed my brow, trying to rack my brain for the right words to say.
“Mom, if I thought someone was in trouble, but they won’t accept help, what am I supposed to do?
I know what to do in a life-or-death situation, but what if it’s not?
What if I can see someone struggling, but they won’t listen? ”
She looked at me with sadness in her eyes, but not the pitying kind.
Mom placed her hand on my shoulder. “You show them kindness and empathy, bud. Keep showing up for them and letting them know you’re there.
I know it’s hard, especially for someone with a heart as big as yours, but sometimes the best protectors aren’t the loudest or the biggest or the strongest. Sometimes the best kind of support is the kind that sits with you in your most vulnerable moments.
” She patted me on the head. “You’re a smart kid who knows right from wrong, Hayden.
I know you’ll do whatever is right. Just keep looking out for them. ”
I nodded. “I’m going to go to bed.”
“Okay, honey.” She pulled me into a hug, and I leaned into her a little more than normal.
That night, and every night after that, our conversation stuck with me. It didn’t take much for me to decide; if and when Sierra decided she needed me, I’d be there.
One day, she’d find her voice. And when she did, I’d amplify it, even if it meant mine had to be a little quieter.