Beast(29)

“One last thing,” she says.

I look up.

The camera is pointed down at me. “Can I?” she asks. “Is it okay? This is too fantastic to miss.”

One flop of my wrist and she could be on the grass, but that snap reaction is gone. I don’t feel like hiding. Not with her. “Okay,” I tell Jamie, half expecting each click of the shutter to fall like drops of acid, but they don’t. It’s okay.

I gently lower her to the ground, where she jumps off with a tiny leap. “That was amazing,” she says in a rush.

I duck my head. “Aw.”

“No, it really was—that was incredible. I don’t know anyone in the entire world who can do that. It was like…flying!”

“I could really launch you if you wanted.”

“No doubt—you’re crazy strong. Like, insanely strong. I weigh way over a hundred pounds and you’re just like, boop, here, let me put you eight feet straight up in the air, like it’s nothing. Mad strong.”

My mouth presses shut. “I know,” I finally say.

“It’s a good thing!”

I realize this is the first time we’re standing together. I haven’t been in the wheelchair for a while now, and she’s looking up at me for once. She’s talking and I can actually hear what she’s saying. I grin. It’s a revelation. Here’s to the tall girls. “Today, it’s a good thing.”

“Be proud.”

In a new way, I am. “Thanks.”

My chair looks rigid and miserable. Let it stay by the steps; I want to be free. I relax onto the grass. It’s damp and clammy. Jamie sits down next to me, unasked. “I set the ringer on my phone.”

“To do what?”

“So we get you back to the hospital,” she says. “In case we lose all track of time.”

I go to kiss her. “Don’t.” She stops me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you really want to do this?”

“Jamie, I’m so into you.” I’m nervous, telling her that, but her smile is so big I know it’s okay.

“Points, points, points.” She leans in, lightly pressing her lips to mine.

I’m light-headed. We kiss, but it’s stubborn. Each heartbeat grows more scattered and clueless than the last. We try too hard to be every movie we’ve ever seen, and it’s awful. She angles her head, I do the same, but it’s the wrong side, and we buck. I’d laugh, but I’m too embarrassed. I’ve read how many books and seen how many movies, and this is putting study into practice? I feel like a fraud.

There’s a wall of gritted teeth keeping me out. It’s like she’s terrified. I am too, because this is my first real kiss. This one actually counts and I want it to be good. Scratch that: I want it to be amazing. I want this day to never end.

But she’s not there. I pull away. “You okay?”

Her eyes are clenched shut. “No. Can we stop?”

My insides collapse. The cliff slides into the ocean.

“I’m scared,” she whispers.

It’s so unfair—I know what her lip gloss tastes like now. Pineapple.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Jamie opens her eyes. Her hand is soft as it touches my cheek. “No,” she says firmly. “You’re wonderful.”

Warmth creeps up my spine and floods my chest. Another person, who’s not my mom or another blood relative, thinks I’m wonderful. “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to.”

Her head plunks against my chest. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

We’ll just pretend it never happened. I reach for her camera and place it in her lap. “Here. Take some pictures.”

She pushes it to the side. “The only subject I want to capture is off limits.”

I reach for the camera, take off the lens cap, and turn it on. The SLR chatters itself digitally awake, flinging the lens in and out with a jolt. I hand it to Jamie. “Knock yourself out.”

“Really?”

I take a deep breath. “Really.”

She aims the camera at me. My face twitches into a smile. It feels worse than getting my back waxed, but I want to do it. For her.

“Be natural,” she says, her finger on the button. “Pretend I’m not here.”

“Impossible.”

“All right, then think of something that makes you happy.”

I think of her and turn red. She fires a million shots, and I dunk myself backward on the grass to soak up the sun. Jamie hovers and slinks up alongside me, snapping shots again and again. There’s no place I’d rather be. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing. In the distance little kids squeal and play, and I feel like one of them.

That magical time when you were really, really small and all that mattered was finding an open swing. Back when you let go and ran however the hell you wanted to. Before other people’s opinions mattered. Being with Jamie feels like that. Free and good. I didn’t know one person could make you a better version of yourself. And the sun is shining down and saying, welcome to the world, dummy. Tale as old as time.

But it’s pretty cool when it’s your song. I smile and she laughs with me. “I like you,” I tell her.