4. Summer 11
Ican’t wait until 4:30 this afternoon to head over for the annual barbecue. I have so much to tell Rebecca. As the last year progressed, our weekly phone calls became more like every other week due to our busy schedules and our reliance on using our parents’ phones to call one another. I’m excited to see Andrew too, of course, but Rebecca is my best friend. I know I can tell her anything. We talk about boys, soccer, our dysfunctional families, and our hopes and dreams. I’ve never bonded with someone like I have with her, especially not as quickly as we did.
It’s only 2 pm, but I’ve finished unpacking my things, done my arrival chores, and even finished reading my book while waiting to go over. Now, I just can’t wait. I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Martin won’t mind if I show up early.
I flounce off my bed and perfectly place the book I just finished on my bookshelf. I rush down the hall and quietly open the back door. I’m sure if my parents hear me leaving, they will try to stop me or give me even more unnecessary chores. After quietly closing the door behind me, I race down the stairs, across my lawn, and to the Martin’s house. I don’t see Rebecca or Andrew outside, so I walk around to the far side of their house where Rebecca’s bedroom window is and throw small pebbles from the planters at the window.
We’ve watched rom-coms together and talked about how silly it was to tap rocks on someone’s window, but we both exchanged a look at the end of the conversation that suggested we both secretly thought it was cute, even if it’s cheesy.
I quickly learn it isn’t as easy as it looks to throw pebbles up to her second-floor window, but Andrew’s bedroom is in the basement, much easier to access. I start peeking down the window well to see if his bedroom light is on. Come on, please be home! I see his light and hop down into the well. He’s lying on his bed reading. It warms my heart to see him blissfully occupied with another world. He’s reading one of the books on the list of recommendations I gave him this year.
As I tap twice on the window, he jumps out of his skin. I start laughing while he glares at me but comes over to open his window anyway. “Hey! What’re you doing, scaring me like that?” He shakes his head at me and stifles a chuckle.
“I couldn’t wait anymore to see you guys. I tried to get Rebecca first, but I couldn’t reach her window.”
“Rebecca is with my mom getting a few last-minute groceries for the barbecue. Is there a reason you couldn’t come to the front door and ring the bell?”
“Part of it was an inside joke with Rebecca,” I trail off. “I’m not supposed to be bothering your family before the barbecue, but I wanted to see you guys.”
“Well come on in,” he says excitedly.
I just look at him. “Which door should I go to then?”
“You said you didn’t want to bug my parents, so you’re probably better off crawling through the window.” A devilish grin spreads across his face.
“Come on, Andrew. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not crawling through the window. Besides, you have a screen. I can’t just pass through it.”
He easily pops the screen out and pushes it off to the side. Then he holds his hand out. “I’m still not understanding why you’d come to my window to avoid the front door and then ask me to let you in through the front door.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, if you let me in through your front door, I’m not bothering your parents.”
He shrugs. “Whatever.” He picks up the book he left on his bed. “Check out the book I’m reading! You were right, this is going to be a good one. I’m so glad there’s a series. It should keep me busy for at least a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks?! There are seven books in the series, and they’re each five hundred pages minimum. You can’t possibly read all of them in just two weeks.”
“You underestimate me,” he says with confidence. “Come sit down.” He pats his bed. “There’s something I want to show you.” He reaches for a drawer in his nightstand and pulls out another book.
He hands it over so I can inspect its beautiful baby blue cover with a shimmery castle on the front. Then he sidles up next to me on the bed. I don’t immediately recognize the title. Before I can say anything, Andrew launches into an explanation, “I haven’t read this one, but all the girls in my class have been reading it. It’s fantasy, and I heard something about there being a love story in it, which you know, bleh. It reminded me of you, though, and I thought you’d like it, so I used some of my allowance to buy it for you. It’s yours.” He smiles shyly.
Wrapping my arms around him, I exclaim, “Thank you! It”s not my birthday, though,” I trail off, a little confused.
Andrew shakes his head. “It’s not a birthday gift. I got it for you just because I thought you’d like it.”
My heart swells, and I cross my arms uncomfortably as my cheeks flush. The gesture is so kind and unexpected, I suddenly don’t know what to do or say. I know we are good friends, but I didn’t realize we had the sort of relationship where we get each other gifts when we see something that reminds us of each other. Rebecca hasn’t even done that for me.
“Well gee, Andrew. Now you’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything,” I deflect, pushing his shoulder with a smile.
He laughs too, and we spend the next thirty minutes just talking about books, school, and life. It’s nice. I’ve never really had this kind of one-on-one time with Andrew. I didn’t realize I could talk to him almost the same way I can with Rebecca.
“How long does it take to buy a few last-minute grocery items?” I ask after some time.
Shrugging, Andrew explains, “I think it was more than a few. For all I know, with those two, they stopped to go shoe shopping and buy smoothies while they were in town. Do you want to read for a bit? I can tell you’re dying to open up that book.”
I nod, a smile spreading across my face, light reaching my eyes. So we sit there, the two of us, on Andrew’s bed, just reading our books. Every once in a while, he pauses to remark about how he was not expecting so much to happen so early, or if he were the main character, he would have been much smarter than that. It’s cool to have a friend to talk about books with. Rebecca and I talk about a lot, but she is not a reader. None of my school friends enjoy reading the same types of books as me either. Isabella only reads biographies. Seriously, what kind of eleven-year-old likes biographies?
I hear the garage open overhead and then the door between the garage and the house opens and slams. I immediately hear Rebecca jabbering away, and we both sit up. “Should we head upstairs?”
Andrew hesitates, like he’s not ready to part with his book or this moment just yet, and for a moment, I feel that too. Then he nods and gets up first to head upstairs and find his sister.
When we come up the stairs, we find Mr. and Mrs. Martin talking with Rebecca. Mr. Martin sees Andrew and me first, and his eyes widen slightly for a second. Then he shifts his hands to his hips. “Hello there, Emma. When did you get here?”
I turn to Andrew. All sense of time is lost on me after our conversations and time spent reading. “She just got here a little bit ago. You didn’t hear her knock?” Andrew interjects.
I keep my mouth shut. Why would he lie to his dad? I try to give Andrew a wide-eyed look, as if to ask him that exact question. He gives me a look right back. We haven’t had many of these wordless conversations before, but I’m pretty sure that look means we will talk about it later. We most certainly will.
Rebecca interrupts our exchange as she rushes over and swallows me up in a big hug. I wrap my arms around her too, reveling in the reunion with my best friend.
“Emma! How are you? I have so much to tell you, dude! Come with me!” Rebecca practically squeals. Just like that, she pulls me upstairs to her room. I throw a glance back over my shoulder to Andrew. He just stands there, looking disappointed.
As we enter Rebecca’s room, she yells, “Ta da!” She throws in a small twirl with her hands up to gesture to her surrounding room.
Her bright pink walls are replaced by a soft lavender color, and her flashy bedspread, which I always hated, is gone. It’s replaced by a cream bedspread with small lavender and yellow flowers. It is more mature, but it still matches Rebecca’s personality perfectly.
“Wow! When did you change it? Your bedding is so cute!”
Her smile is the biggest I’ve ever seen. “I had it done in April. I wanted it to be a surprise for you when you came this summer.”
I take it all in. On the one hand, I am disappointed that I miss out on these things by only getting to see her for a few months a year, but on the other hand, I’m honored that she wanted to make it a surprise for me. “I can’t believe you kept this from me for two months!”
She shrugs. “We had so many other things to talk about. It was pretty easy.”
I know exactly what she’s talking about. “What’s the latest update on Sam?” I inquire, eager to live vicariously.
She blushes a little. “He told me he liked me on the last day of school. Can you believe it, Emma? I knew it! He teased me the whole school year.”
“That’s so exciting! Now what?” I’m genuinely curious.
“I don’t know,” she kind of chuckles. “I’m not allowed to date until I’m in high school, which is way far away. Maybe he will start sitting with me at lunch next year.”
“You can’t date until high school? I didn’t expect your parents to be so strict.” What I don’t admit is that I didn’t expect Rebecca to be the type to follow the rules her parents lay out for her.
“When can you date?”
I just shrug. I haven’t had that discussion with my parents, but it’s not like it’s been necessary. “I’ll be single my whole life anyway, so what’s it matter? I’m way too shy around boys. They don’t like me.” I huff and fall onto her bed.
She rolls her eyes and teases, “Where’d you learn to be so dramatic?”
“I learned it from you!”
“Oh, that’s right.” She pretends as if she’s just now remembering. “Don’t worry, Emma, you’ll find someone who’s perfect for you. Maybe it could be Andrew!” She waggles her brows.
I scoff. “Yeah right!”
She joins me in my laughter. “So, what do you want to do first, play Littlest Pet Shop?”
I beam, and she knowingly grabs her tub of animals before I can even respond.