On the Fence(35)

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It sounded so cryptic.

“You said this is our alternate reality, right? Where we can say anything?”

I was wary. “Yes.”

“I need to tell you something. . . . I think it might help. . . .” He stopped. “But I need to come over there to do it.” Without waiting for my reply, he had hopped the fence and his disembodied voice stood above me, very much bodied. Now I understood why his voice had sounded emotionless—because his eyes had claimed all the emotion. They were so intense that my heart leaped in my chest.

I stood and backed up against the fence. “Wow, you should be a high jumper. Did you ever try that at school?” If I just pretended like this was normal maybe my heart would stop trying to escape. I didn’t want things to change. I didn’t want him to tell me whatever had him standing in front of me with fire in his eyes. He was my friend. My best friend, I realized. There was too much to lose.

“No. I didn’t.”

“You should, with hops like that. That fence is, what, eight feet high, and I’m sure you didn’t leap off the ground or anything but—”

“Charlie.”

“Did you put one foot on the fence or did you rely on your hands to help you over? Because—”

“Please, Charlie, I can’t keep this inside me any longer. You need to know.”

“Stop. I don’t want to know.” I pushed my palms to my eyes. Too many unfamiliar things were happening to me lately, and I didn’t need him to add to it.

He grabbed my wrists, taking my hands away from my eyes. “Don’t hide from this. You already know. You have to know.”

“I don’t.”

“Think, Charlie.”

He dropped my wrists, and I was so nervous that I needed something to hang on to. I pressed both hands against his chest. I could feel his pecs through the thin fabric, his heart beating wildly.

“You know.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think, but I don’t want to.” I didn’t want to lose him as a friend. Not now, when I needed him the most. I didn’t know how I felt right now about anything. I knew I wasn’t completely myself. I felt off. And that wasn’t fair to him. Now wasn’t the time to try to figure out how I felt about him, when I didn’t even know how I felt about me.

“It’s time. You’re older now. It can only help things. They don’t think it’s a good idea, but you’re strong, I know you can handle it.”

Now I was confused. “Who doesn’t think it’s a good idea?”

“Your brothers.”

“It’s none of their business.”

“Of course it is.”

“They can’t tell you to stop having feelings for me.”

He froze mid-nod. “What?” A ripple of confusion ran down his face, and then a light of understanding. He took a step back, my hands slipping from his chest. “I . . . no. That’s not what this is about. Is that what you thought I was trying to tell you?” He put a hand to his forehead. “Man, I’m sorry. No, this is about something completely different. . . .”

I squeezed my eyes shut and wiped my hands on my thighs. “I’m such an idiot.” With an uncomfortable laugh I said, “Good thing this took place in our dream world so that tomorrow won’t be incredibly awkward.” I sidestepped around him and headed for the house.

“No, wait, Charlie, please.”

I lifted my hand in a silent good-bye without turning around, then let the door shut behind me. Of course Braden didn’t like me like that. I was his buddy, his pal, his sister. A burly girl who played sports. The only way a guy would ever like me was with a thick layer of makeup. Not that it mattered. I didn’t like him like that either. Well, maybe I had for a second, but he’d just made those feelings easier to resist.





Chapter 21

The next day, and the day after that, Braden didn’t come by the house. It was the longest he’d ever stayed away. Quite obviously he was avoiding me. It was fine with me because I was avoiding him, too. I felt like the biggest idiot. I thought that feeling might go away after a few days. But if anything, the more time passed, the stupider I felt. What had he wanted to tell me that night anyway? Why hadn’t I forced him to talk about it? Maybe because I didn’t want to know. It seemed serious. What if he had talked his mom into leaving his dad and now he was leaving with her? I didn’t like that thought. I didn’t want Braden leaving. No. That was selfish. If it meant he’d be happier, then of course he needed to go. The thought made my heart twist.

I tried to solve the tension by running more, sometimes even twice a day. It felt good to open my lungs and let my legs work out the energy bouncing through my body. On the fourth day after The Talk of Shame, I walked into the kitchen after a long run and saw Braden and Gage sitting at the bar.

“Hey, losers.” I could pretend nothing happened. It had been a fence chat, after all. I grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge and took several large gulps.

“Braden and I were just discussing the fact that Amendola was picked up by the Patriots. I think it means they are the strongest team in the league because of the quarterback–wide receiver duo. It will be like Montana and Rice all over again. But Braden thinks the Rodgers–Cobb duo is still the strongest. Break the tie.”