worse.
"It just wasn't a great party," I say. "I didn't know anyone and I sort of felt like a loser."
No. Stop talking, idiot. Do not tell him about the Water Balloon Blitz Disaster.
"So what'd you do?"
"After making a complete fool of myself by throwing water balloons out the window onto the people at the party?"
Marley! Hey, Marley? Shut up!
His face! He's silent-laughing, like he can't believe what I'm saying. "Should I even ask what you did next?"
"I left."
"Well, at least that was smart."
"I guess." I wonder what they said when I left. Do they hate me? I'm not wild about them right now, but it's not like I meant to throw away my two best friends, either.
I hate feeling like a fool. I felt so brave when I was up in that bathroom, in pre-Blitz mode. I wonder if brave and stupid are sometimes a little too close to each other.
Talking about stuff like this with Jack, that takes some courage too. Only I'm not sure how much more of that I have. Or if I should trust my judgment to know when I'm being brave and when I'm being stupid. I'm not at all sure I know the difference.
We're quiet for a while. I don't know if he feels it too, but it's almost as if there are some warm, delicious sparks flying, Fourth of July fireworks in miniature, right here in this tree house.
I wonder what it says about me that I'm more comfortable in a little kids' tree house with a guy I've known for less than a week than I was at a party with my best friends since second grade.
Nasty Princesses That Knock Down Stuff
My dad insists that we play tennis before dinner on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the two slow days for his lawn care business. I complain like crazy in the beginning, but the truth is, tennis helps to pass the time. It keeps me from checking my cell phone every other minute. Is it working? Do I have messages? Why don't I have messages? How can this be happening?
I have bad days on the court and good days, like always, but it does seem that the more we play, the fewer bad days there are. On one of the bad days, when I'm gathering up all the balls I've hit into the bushes, I see Leah and Jane out with their Curtain Call friends.
I would have thought that the stunning shock of a pain like this would wane, but it's still raw, like new. Leah's the easiest to spot, as that awful yellow and pink bike would stand out anywhere. Also, she's the only one on a bike, as if everyone decided at once that they don't ride bikes anymore only no one remembered to tell Leah. There's a guy who I think is Sage, and two other girls. It seems as though Jane and Sage are a little off by themselves. I don't know if they see me, but if they do they don't let on.
It keeps getting worse. Or maybe I'm just now realizing how bad it is. What have I done? I didn't know when I left that party that I'd have to give up everything. I can't just let go of all those years, the two best friendships. Every time I'm about to reach for the phone, to check my messages one more time or maybe even to call them, I stop.
I get to the point, finally, when I stop checking messages. I don't even bother charging my phone; it's not like anyone's calling me, and it gets kind of depressing to see that I've missed zero calls.
Jack and I spend more time together. Even when we're not together, I'm thinking about him. A lot. Wondering if he thinks about me.
We talk every morning before he heads out to camp, and he wills me out after work each day. We walk Rig, hang out up in the tree house, and mostly, we talk. We talk about baseball camp and the twins, the Yankees, his parents and mine, and how little we're looking forward to school in the fall.
For him, fall is all about sports, which team he might make. He's nervous about flubbing the tryouts for some new travel team. I make it seem as if my own complete lack of enthusiasm is just about the whole idea of going back to school. That's not really it. I know exactly what I'm anxious about. How do you start school without friends? I
"It just wasn't a great party," I say. "I didn't know anyone and I sort of felt like a loser."
No. Stop talking, idiot. Do not tell him about the Water Balloon Blitz Disaster.
"So what'd you do?"
"After making a complete fool of myself by throwing water balloons out the window onto the people at the party?"
Marley! Hey, Marley? Shut up!
His face! He's silent-laughing, like he can't believe what I'm saying. "Should I even ask what you did next?"
"I left."
"Well, at least that was smart."
"I guess." I wonder what they said when I left. Do they hate me? I'm not wild about them right now, but it's not like I meant to throw away my two best friends, either.
I hate feeling like a fool. I felt so brave when I was up in that bathroom, in pre-Blitz mode. I wonder if brave and stupid are sometimes a little too close to each other.
Talking about stuff like this with Jack, that takes some courage too. Only I'm not sure how much more of that I have. Or if I should trust my judgment to know when I'm being brave and when I'm being stupid. I'm not at all sure I know the difference.
We're quiet for a while. I don't know if he feels it too, but it's almost as if there are some warm, delicious sparks flying, Fourth of July fireworks in miniature, right here in this tree house.
I wonder what it says about me that I'm more comfortable in a little kids' tree house with a guy I've known for less than a week than I was at a party with my best friends since second grade.
Nasty Princesses That Knock Down Stuff
My dad insists that we play tennis before dinner on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the two slow days for his lawn care business. I complain like crazy in the beginning, but the truth is, tennis helps to pass the time. It keeps me from checking my cell phone every other minute. Is it working? Do I have messages? Why don't I have messages? How can this be happening?
I have bad days on the court and good days, like always, but it does seem that the more we play, the fewer bad days there are. On one of the bad days, when I'm gathering up all the balls I've hit into the bushes, I see Leah and Jane out with their Curtain Call friends.
I would have thought that the stunning shock of a pain like this would wane, but it's still raw, like new. Leah's the easiest to spot, as that awful yellow and pink bike would stand out anywhere. Also, she's the only one on a bike, as if everyone decided at once that they don't ride bikes anymore only no one remembered to tell Leah. There's a guy who I think is Sage, and two other girls. It seems as though Jane and Sage are a little off by themselves. I don't know if they see me, but if they do they don't let on.
It keeps getting worse. Or maybe I'm just now realizing how bad it is. What have I done? I didn't know when I left that party that I'd have to give up everything. I can't just let go of all those years, the two best friendships. Every time I'm about to reach for the phone, to check my messages one more time or maybe even to call them, I stop.
I get to the point, finally, when I stop checking messages. I don't even bother charging my phone; it's not like anyone's calling me, and it gets kind of depressing to see that I've missed zero calls.
Jack and I spend more time together. Even when we're not together, I'm thinking about him. A lot. Wondering if he thinks about me.
We talk every morning before he heads out to camp, and he wills me out after work each day. We walk Rig, hang out up in the tree house, and mostly, we talk. We talk about baseball camp and the twins, the Yankees, his parents and mine, and how little we're looking forward to school in the fall.
For him, fall is all about sports, which team he might make. He's nervous about flubbing the tryouts for some new travel team. I make it seem as if my own complete lack of enthusiasm is just about the whole idea of going back to school. That's not really it. I know exactly what I'm anxious about. How do you start school without friends? I
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