Chapter Twenty-One
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Jae
After the meeting, Mrs. Aldana pulls William aside. CJ and Swan head to the banyan tree and Derek stands over me. He’s shifting his feet, nervous white sneakers in bright green grass.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I say.
“Umm … you heard my poem?”
“I was there.”
“So, what do you think?”
I’m quiet, letting him shift uneasily as he waits. Rewind. Does he mean erase? As in, forget about everything that happened and start with a blank slate? Does he deserve a blank slate when I don’t get one?
“I don’t know, Derek,” I say.
He breathes in deep. “I wanna try again.”
I sling Lucille over my shoulder and stand up, my forehead nearly touching his chin. He takes a step back. “Try what again?”
“Meet me? This Sunday at the Sundy House.”
He’s clamping his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for an answer. And I don’t know. I’m pulled to him—it’s hard not to be. But at the same time, my memories pull me back. Tell me to tread lightly. Tell me to run.
I breathe in slowly. “Is this about the club? Or something else?”
His eyes flick around the grove, landing on William and Mrs. Aldana, who’ve stopped talking. William heads toward the banyan tree and Mrs. Aldana toward the school. She waves at us, gives a radiant smile.
“The Sundy House is a good venue,” he says. “But I … I really wanna take you there. I think you’d like it.” He takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair. Then he looks resigned, embarrassed, like he expects me to say no.
“That sounds like a date,” I say.
“Maybe it is?” The teeniest crooked smile.
My heart. It drops or it jumps or it malfunctions completely for a second, and I lean away from him. “Your friends.”
“I don’t wanna talk about them now,” he says.
“You can’t just keep hiding from them. And pulling me down with you.”
“Okay. I get it. There’s a lot of stuff to tell you. I want to tell you, but … not now. Sunday?” he asks, hopeful. “How about eleven?”
Scouting venues on the weekend means Uncle Rowan will have more time to be nosy, more time to wonder what I’m really up to.
But I guess I’m going to take the risk because I want to hear what Derek has to say.
And if I’m honest, I want to see him more, date or no date.
“I’ll try,” I say. His shoulders drop like he’s been tense this whole time.
“I’m going to the banyan tree. Are you coming?” I ask, pointing over my shoulder.
“Maybe next time,” he says, a shine in his eyes.
“All right.” I bite my lip to keep my smile from growing too big, then wave and walk away, down the path leading to the banyan tree. But when I look over my shoulder expecting to see the back of him, his eyes are watching me, and I could melt. Right there.
I feel light, like I should be able to skip the rope ladder altogether, float up and settle soft on a limb. But I pull myself up, rung by rung, until CJ’s scuffed-up Keds are dangling above my head.
“Hey, Jae,” they all say together, and laugh.
William’s hanging upside down today, legs wrapped around a branch like a sloth. “Is Derek coming?” he asks.
“He said maybe next time.”
“Ooooh,” Swan croons. “Maybe next time.”
CJ chuckles. “How does it feel to have a poem written about you, Jae?”
Swan waves her hand in the air, all thespian. “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” William adds, arms swinging.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” CJ adds.
I try not to laugh. “Whatever, guys,” I say.
Swan laughs too. Then he frowns and looks at William. “Your poem was a bit … heavy. Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Mom’s getting married again next month. Brought back some bad memories. But I’m all right.”
“How long was Stepdad Number Three around?” CJ asks.
“Two years, five months, and seventeen days,” William says, righting himself on the branch. “I used to not talk about him. I felt super embarrassed.”
“Even though it wasn’t your fault?” I ask. I understand shame, but shame for someone else hurting you? That I can’t understand.
“I felt like it was my fault,” he says, pulling his hair out of the ponytail and winding the band through his fingers.
His hair falls across his face as he looks down toward the ground.
“But Arnie could make you believe rain in April was your fault. Anyway, I can write about it easier than I can talk about it. But yeah. I can talk about it now. With the right people.”
“That part.” Swan nods and places a hand over her chest. “Well, I love you, William Shakespeare, and I’m honored to know you. This club would be nothing without you, you know that? And I hope Arnie Ainsley rots.”
William chuckles, but his blue eyes are dull when he finally looks up at us. “I love that you guys know me better than anyone else in this school.”
Swan nods. “Me too. Frankly, William, a lot of them don’t deserve us. Like Jane Keen! She had the nerve to ask me if I could teach her Korean, after she said I smelled like kimchi!”
I gasp. “She said that?”
“I eat danmuji with literally everything and it drives my mom nuts. So, kimchi where? Like, no, Miss Jane. You can rot in ignorance.”
“Why would she even ask for your help?” I say. “That’s like throwing pearls before swine.”
“Huh?”
“It’s in the Bible. Don’t cast your pearls before swine. Like, don’t give the things you value to people who’ll just trample over them.”
“Aaah …” Swan nods. “So, in your case, we’re the swine? Because we’re not worth sharing things with?”
My mouth falls open. “No. That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay.” She shrugs.
“Swan …” I let my words drift off. There’s no way to gather them in a way that makes sense to her. I can keep my secrets and she’ll tolerate me like she does now. Or I can tell her the truth and she’ll hate me.
As much as I want to smooth things over with her, I remember my friends not calling me, my teachers ignoring me, Uncle Rowan and his constant judgment. And Mom, so disappointed she couldn’t love me.
I’ll keep my secrets. The truth does not set you free.