2. Two
Two
Tessa
I ’ve been floating around my new school like a ghost these past few hours, not interacting with anyone as I remembered the friends I was forced to leave behind.
My dad took over the town’s lone convenience store after his uncle passed away, leaving us with a struggling business, a two-story house, and an uncertain future.
At least that’s how my mom put it, which is why I can’t understand why we had to move in the first place.
Why did we have to leave Los Angeles—one of the greatest cities in the world—and everyone we love behind to live in a backwater town so small you wouldn’t be able to find it on a map if you tried?
It’s only been a handful of days since our arrival in Texas Hill Country, and I’m already desperate to get out of here. There’s literally nothing to do, the air smells dusty, and the people talk funny.
I know my parents struggled with the decision to uproot me, and according to my dad, taking over a country store in the middle of nowhere is a risk.
But since he lost his job only days before the life-changing document arrived, my parents had no choice but to take it as a sign, and my fate was decided.
Angry and devastated, I didn’t speak to them for days following the announcement of our upcoming move, unable to imagine living in a place where the cows outnumber the people.
The sheer thought of acres upon acres of farmland and the smell of manure made me shudder.
I’d cried, begged, and screamed at the unfairness of it all.
But in the end, none of it mattered. I’m only eleven—a dumb child.
My opinion holds little weight. Although my parents have won the battle for now, I’d promised myself I’d never call Jenkins Creek home.
As soon as I graduate, I’ll move back to LA, and there’s absolutely nothing anyone can do to stop me.
This morning I woke with a newfound purpose. Finding solace in my stay here being only temporary, I decided to make the best of the situation for as long as I’m stuck here. I’d smile, pretend to be happy, and maybe even make a few friends along the way.
Unfortunately, the latter is proving harder than I’d originally thought.
I’m halfway through my first day at JC Elementary, and no one has even attempted to talk to me.
It’s lunchtime and watching everyone gather around the various picnic tables scattered around the yard, talking and laughing animatedly, has me feeling lonely and out of place.
Finding a tree to lean on, far away from the boisterous crowd, I resign myself to a quiet meal.
“Are you alright?” The unexpected question jerks me from my daydream and firmly plants me back into the here and now.
Stunned, I gaze up at the boy looming over me and connect with a pair of striking eyes so blue I’m reminded of the ocean.
He’s lanky but tall for his age, which I’m guessing to be around my own.
His dark, wavy hair is almost black and long enough to curl around his ears.
He has the cutest dimpled smile I’ve ever seen, and a curious gaze that almost makes me tear up after I’ve spent the entire morning going unnoticed.
“I’m alright,” I mumble, pulling pieces of crust off my sandwich to keep my hands busy.
“You’re the new girl. Teresa, right?” I glance up at him again, thrilled that this adorable boy knows my name.
“That’s right.”
“You mind if I call you Tessa? It suits you better, I think. Can I sit with you?” Without waiting for an answer to either question, he lowers himself to the ground and nudges me over just enough to rest his back on the thick tree trunk beside me.
He’s so close our shoulders touch, and I can’t stop the unwanted blush spreading over my cheeks.
“I usually eat lunch with my friend Carter, but he’s home with the flu today, and you seem kind of sad. Thought I’d bring you something to cheer you up. Do you like flowers? I found it on the ground and was going to bring it home to my mom, but you look like you need it more.”
He’s holding out what I think might be a carnation.
I recognize the type from my mom’s planter boxes back home.
Not my home anymore , I remind myself as I study the pale yellow flower with a sad acceptance.
It’s obvious it’s been out of water for quite some time.
I can tell by the way the head is drooping, but its poor appearance doesn’t stop me from reaching for it.
I carefully pluck the stem from between his fingers, handling it like a rare treasure as I give the wilted petals a sniff.
Then, I place it into my lunchbox for safekeeping.
“Thank you,” I say, oddly touched by the caring gesture.
“You’re welcome. I’m Jake, by the way.”
Jake. What a lovely, strong name.
“You live in the old Brady house on Jackson Street, right? I saw you guys move in a few days ago when I rode by on my bike. I live just around the corner. So does Carter. We could ride to school together. We usually take our bikes, but we can walk if you don’t have one. ”
“I have one,” I announce. He nods with satisfaction; his gaze focused on the juicy orange he’s in the process of peeling as the tip of his tongue pokes out from between his lips.
It’s the cutest thing ever. What is he doing talking to me, of all people?
Jake keeps up a steady stream of conversation, utterly unaware that I’m fast developing the mother of all crushes.
“We’ll just pick you up tomorrow morning then,” he states, leaving no room to argue before he hits me with another rapid-fire question. “So, why’d you move to Jenkins Creek?”
“My dad is the new owner of Brady’s Country store. We used to live in LA, but he said it would be good for us to leave the hustle and bustle of the city and breathe in some country air.”
“And what do you think?” he asks, meeting my gaze and holding it like he’s genuinely interested.
Even though I already know the answer, I pretend to mull it over.
“I think it’s a load of baloney. I love the city and the friends I have there, and, frankly, it doesn’t smell all that nice in the country. ”
Jake bursts out laughing, almost choking on a piece of fruit, and for the first time in forever, I find myself wanting to join in.
“You’re right. It does smell pretty bad at times.
Especially during the summer months, when it’s hot as balls—erm—hot as all hell,” he corrects himself.
The way his ears heat only makes my smile grow wider.
“There’s a lot of farmland around here, and cows poop, like, a ton.
You’ll get used to it, though. My mom says people pay big bucks to vacation in the country. Don’t ask me why.”
“Do you like it here?” I ask, unable to believe that people genuinely enjoy small-town living.
Jake shrugs. “It’s alright. Never really been anywhere else, and everyone I know lives here. I like the summers. There’s lots to do.”
“Like what?”
Amusement swims in his eyes as he takes in my doubtful expression .
“I don’t know. Carter and I ride our bikes around town a lot. We go swimming down by the river, build forts in the woods. Stuff like that. I’ll take you one day.”
“That’d be nice,” I reluctantly admit. Jake gives a single nod, seemingly pleased with my answer, before he pops the last slice of orange into his mouth and jumps to his feet.
“I better go. You should head in, too. Mr. Ferguson is really strict and sure gets upset if you’re late.
I’ll see you in class.” He saunters off, and I stare after him as he makes his way over to the main building where a couple of boys join him.
I take a few moments to pack up my untouched lunch before I follow suit.
When I pass their small group to enter the building, Jake gives me another beaming smile.
I can’t help but think that a few years in Jenkins Creek may not be the end of the world after all.
True to his word, Jake stops by the very next morning.
His blinding smile greets me as I step out of the house, and I silently thank him for sticking to his promise.
I’m not sure why this cute boy decided to take me under his wing, but I’m grateful for it, nonetheless.
Being the new kid in town is not easy, but having a friend to lean on makes the transition more bearable.
The following day, Jake shows up with another boy in tow. Carter, as he introduces himself, is about our age, with tousled blond hair, moss-green eyes, and a gentle smile. I like him on the spot.
The boys and I fall into a simple routine over those first couple of weeks.
Jake and Carter pick me up each morning, introduce me to people at school, and show me around town in the afternoons.
I’d promised myself I would hate it here forever, and I’m still not convinced I’ll ever be able to fully embrace small-town life.
But somewhere after the first full week, I stopped looking at our move as a prison sentence and started seeing it as the adventure it is.
On a beautiful, sunny Saturday afternoon, the boys take me to their favorite swimming spot down by the Medina River, where I get to meet one of Jake’s siblings for the first time.
Jude is quite a bit younger than his brother–I’m guessing around five or six–and must be the cutest little thing I have ever seen, with his unruly mop of dark hair and a set of dimples to match Jake’s.
The resemblance is uncanny, and I can immediately tell the smaller boy worships the ground his big brother walks on.
We stand shoulder to shoulder as we watch Jake and Carter take turns on the rope swing, plunging into the crystal-clear waters time and time again as they whoop and holler like lunatics.