Between Now & Never (21 page)

“Cody!” his mom shrieks, the screen door of the house behind them swinging open to reveal an enraged Janice Rush. Jimmy is laughing.

Obviously, Janice decided to post Cody and Jimmy’s video anyway because here it is, and the boys already had enough of a following to make some decent money off their little experiment. Lucas has told me all about how people can make money from getting a high number of views on their YouTube videos. He and his buddies keep hoping one of their skateboard videos will take off.

“Hey, Julianna,” Trish calls out. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” I say and close YouTube, grabbing my document before heading out.

A hand covers my eyes in the hallway after school, blocking from sight my open locker before me. Lucas, of course, or so I think until my nose picks up the scent of expensive cologne, a smell that throws me back into the living room with Cody.

I whirl around, finding Cody standing over me, his hand resting on the locker above my head like a guy who’s about to lean in and kiss his girlfriend.

“It sucks doing homework alone,” he says with a suggestive grin.

I swallow hard, the sight of his incredible eyes and perfectly sculpted lips in such close proximity threatening my resolve. I see the little boy in him, the carefree eight-year-old Cody Rush I saw in those videos who made up half of the menacing duo that was he and Jimmy. And yet he’s so different now, the green of his eyes containing new depths, the scar along his brow a clue to the pain he’s been through.

I slam my locker, giving in to the swell of emotions within. “Come on,” I say and grab his hand. “I’ve missed that car of yours.”

“I
want to show you something,” I say as I open the garage door for Julianna and walk in behind her. When I place my hand over her eyes again, she naturally tenses. I lean toward her ear, happily eliminating any buffer of space between us. Her shoulder meets my chest, and I whisper, “May I?”

She nods, a silent smile shaping her lips.

I guide her to the back door and into the backyard, helping her navigate the steps down the back porch.

“You know I only have a half hour tops to help you with art,” she says before losing her footing on the last stair.

I catch her and she laughs.

“It’s worth it,” I say. For me, at least. Forget homework. “Ready?”

I’ve built this up far more than I should have for such a lame surprise. Really, I just wanted an excuse to get close to her and see how she’d react.

She relaxes into me, her back molding into my chest as she nods.

I lift my hand, certain that this is the most anticlimactic surprise ever.

She gasps anyway. “No way! This is your backyard?”

I look around at the huge lawn surrounded by flowers and bushes, with what remains of Grandpa Chadwick’s fields beyond. This is where he and Grandma used to live. This is where Jimmy and I spent lazy afternoons together, getting into trouble, with Rachel in tow half the time. The canal Jimmy was nearly electrocuted in has long since been covered, but we still irrigate with it and the water is on now, dousing the plants that have seen far too much sun.

Looking at this now, I see why Mom wanted to come back. Leaving Desert Mountain High and breaking my leg in that accident—not much good has come from moving to Gilbert. However, with the recent surfacing of memories of Jimmy and all the good times we had here, I see this place with new eyes.

“I know you like those yellow flowers,” I say, trying to explain my lame surprise.

She nods, her eyes jumping from bush to bush of those yellow flowers she dries between the pages of her math textbook. “Lantanas,” she says. “They’re my mom’s favorite.”

“Well, if you ever want to pick more, you’re welcome to these.”

She smiles up at me. “Thanks, Cody.”

We walk through the bushes, treading the stone pathway carefully so we don’t get our shoes—and my boot—wet.

“Jimmy and I used to splash around in this stuff all the time. Boat races. Mud fights. All of it.”

Julianna turns around to face me with a playful smile. She dips the toe of her flip-flop into the water and flicks it up at me.

I flinch back, looking down at the splatter of mud on my legs, boot, and shorts.

She lets out a laugh, switching her expression to a mock frown when I look up.

“Aw,” she says with a fake pout. “Too much of a pretty boy now for a little mud?”

Game on. “Pretty boy, my eye,” I say and wrap my arm around her.

She lets out a squeal as I pick her up and march into the muddy water, sufficiently getting my payback. More mud covers her legs and knees the more she kicks and screams. She reaches down and splashes mud up into my face, laughing. Within seconds it’s a full-out mud war—twisting, pushing, splashing.

We run into the open lawn after we’re covered, laughing. It’s hard to tell who won. We’re both wet from head to toe, mud caking our skin and clothes.

“Come here,” I say as I grab the hose and flip on the water.

She backs away with her hands out defensively, still laughing. “No you don’t.”

I grab her wrist and pull her in. “Relax,” I say, my voice lowering as she draws near.

Her laughing dies down as she steps closer, her eyes glued to mine. I wash her arm first, my fingers working the mud from her skin. Then I start on her hair.

“Will your mom be upset?” she asks, her chest still rising and falling quickly as she catches her breath from our mud fight.

“No,” I say, my eyes tracing the line of her jaw to her lips, then down to the wet shirt that hugs her figure in all the right places. “She’s pretty chill.”

“She wasn’t happy about the Mentos and Coke, though,” Julianna says. “I saw it,” she continues when I look up. “I saw all the videos. Jimmy was a really good baseball player and you dunked that Coke with authority.”

I smile, the memories of our excitement over our YouTube success crashing back. The best of times, the worst of times; Dickens nailed the entire human experience with those words. Jimmy never got to enjoy the profits from those clips.

Slowly, I brush at a streak of mud on Julianna’s cheek and lift the hose.

“Close your eyes,” I tell her. She does, her lips parting slightly before water glides down the contours of her face. The onslaught of memories has torn me open inside, leaving me weak.

Julianna does this to me somehow. When I’m with her, I feel like there’s a chance of things falling back into place somehow. It all links back to her, to that moment in the mall I can’t recall in full, and I can’t help but want to wrap my arms around her and lose myself in those lips.

My fingers find hers, pulling her hand up to eye level where our fingers interlock. She opens her eyes. Drops of water wet her thick lashes. I look at our hands, liking the feel of her fingers between mine. She grips my hand like she doesn’t want to let go either.

I drop the hose and brush a strand of wet hair from her face, ready to answer the plea in her eyes that tells me she wants this, too.

“Cody?” my mom calls out from the back door.

Julianna draws back, her hand pulling away from mine. “I’d better go,” she says, her words yanking my head back to a rational plane. I’m covered in mud, I haven’t shaved in the last two days, and I was one move away from kissing Julianna. And she has a boyfriend.

“Yeah?” I call back. Mom can’t see us from there, and that’s good. Julianna is already blushing deep, her feet shifting farther and farther from mine.

“Candace stopped by, but I couldn’t find you,” Mom says. “I told her I’d let you know.”

Julianna takes a noticeable step back. Timing couldn’t be worse.

Candace lives down the street and our moms are in the same book club. Sometimes she stops by, but that’s it.

The drive home is awkward. I handed Julianna the money as she got into my car, a stack of twenties to pay her for tutoring. She said thanks, avoiding eye contact. Despite what I’d hoped, paying her as I promised only seemed to make things worse.

I try to think of what to say as I drive, how I can explain. As I run through the options, none sound right. Julianna says nothing.

“You can drop me off here,” she says as soon as I pull into her neighborhood. “Stop. Stop!”

I slam on the brakes, confused.

She pops open her door and raises a smile. “I’m sorry about your seat.”

It’s wet, but I don’t care. I’m about to blurt out what I want to say before she can get away, but I’m too late. She sprints off down the road with her backpack, her clothes, and her hair still damp from the hose. Then she disappears around the corner, leaving the honest feelings I was about to confess jammed up inside.

C
ody Rush almost kissed me—
almost kissed me
—and I almost let him. There’s no denying how heated that moment in his backyard was, the short distance between us charged with an inescapable force drawing us together.

Unfortunately, someone else was knocking at his door, ready to fill in for whatever I wasn’t willing to offer. Candace. I knew something was up between them. Apparently, I’m not the only girl Cody has over and I shouldn’t be surprised.

Then he paid me, and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the money, but it served as a reminder of what I am to Cody. I’m his tutor who happens to be around a lot. Proximity does stuff to two people. We’re like magnets that shouldn’t have been placed within close range.

The following evening I pull on my favorite lacy top, shorts, and strappy sandals, then tie my hair up with the teal and black ribbons Trish insisted Mindy and I wear. Tonight is the second Highland Hawks football game of the season.

The bleachers are packed, the student section alive with noise. Girls sport short shorts with green and white handprints painted on their legs. The guys are less decked out in general, other than the dude covered in white paint.

“Julianna,” Trish calls out, snagging my attention, “Mindy.”

Mindy and I head over to the gate as Trish bounces over to meet us.

“Looking hot, girl,” I tell her as she pulls us both into a tight squeeze over the chain-link fence.

“You too,” she gushes, her eyes raking up and down in approval.

“I know,” Mindy chimes in with a sideways glance toward me. “First time I’ve seen you in anything but sneakers or flip-flops in weeks.”

“Is Lucas coming?” Trish asks and nudges me with her elbow.

“Uh, no,” I say.

I spot Aubrey, Laurel, and, of course, Candace, all decked out in cheerleader form.

“I’d better go,” Trish says as she skips back into position, the ribbons in her high ponytail bouncing as she goes. “Enjoy the game!”

As Trish and the other cheerleaders assume their positions, Mindy and I find a spot next to Makkel and Cassidy, friends of mine from soccer who will be playing on the team this November, as well as Sabrina, a cellist in the orchestra with Mindy.

By the second quarter the Hawks are up fourteen to nothing. The energy on the field and in the stands is high, almost palpable.

I scan the crowd under a darkening desert sky, my pulse flickering offbeat as I search for one person. I can’t help it.

“Who are you looking for?” Mindy asks.

“No one,” I lie, knowing very well who. I wonder if he’s here, who he’s hanging out with, who he’s talking to. A girl?

My gaze springs over to Candace and then to the crowd of boys near the fence. I study the backs of each of their heads. Can’t help it.

Cody couldn’t have me over this afternoon for tutoring, or so he said. He told me he had a physical therapy appointment, a likely excuse. I wonder if he’s trying to send me a subtle message.

Skateboards in my peripheral vision snag my attention. Lucas, Josh, and Dustin walk into the scene, each holding his own board and a QT drink.

Lucas finds me in the crowd before I’m prepared. I had no idea he’d be here. They’ve been so engrossed in putting their skateboarding stunts up on YouTube this week, I’ve hardly seen him. Besides, he hates football and pretty much all other sports.

Lucas kisses two fingers and lifts them up in a peace sign my way. He smiles, and the three of them keep walking along the sidewalk past the student section.

“Hey, there’s Lucas,” Mindy says. “Where’s he going?”

“I have no idea,” I say, baffled.

Lucas glances back at me, his smile hiding something. I realize he’s carrying something else, a big jumble of paper.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” Cassidy says, coming to a halt after each word. “He is
so
hot.”

Cassidy knows very well that Lucas is my boyfriend, so I whirl around toward her in surprise. The line of her gaze is nowhere near Lucas, however; her eyes are fastened on the sidewalk below, near the entrance.

“Mm-hm,” Makkel agrees, her eyes focused in the same direction.

I follow their gaze, turning around to find a very tall, clean-shaven, and well-dressed Cody Rush. He pauses at the bottom of the bleachers and scans the crowd with a cocky tilt to his lips, his hands casually slung in his pockets like a male model who walked straight off the cover of
GQ
magazine.

He looks so different—looks like the Cody I remember from all those months ago who dove in out of nowhere and caught my tumbling bottle of caramel sauce. And something else is different. The boot is gone.

His searching eyes stop on me and the slight tilt of his lips spreads into a full grin with dimples.

My heart flip-flops inside my chest.

Instantly, he’s greeted by a mob of guys from the basketball team and a couple of their girlfriends. He’s back, both legs unobstructed and standing strong, nothing holding him back now.

Halftime starts, and Candace and her friends skip toward him from the other side of the fence. He walks straight past them, his eyes pinned on me.

I match his smile, every doubt evaporating as he draws near.

“Oh my gosh, Julianna,” Mindy says, and I fear I’ve been caught. But Mindy isn’t looking at Cody anymore, and neither are Cassidy, Makkel, or Sabrina. In fact, most people are turning around and looking up toward the top of the bleachers now, their attention far from the band that’s marching onto the field for the halftime show.

I look up behind me, spotting Lucas and his friends holding a huge sign that reads
J
ULIANNA, WILL YOU GO TO HOMECOMING WITH ME
?

Shock numbs me from the inside out.

Mindy squeezes my hand and jumps up and down. “Oh my gosh, that is so cute.”

She’s right, it is cute. Lucas thought up a way to ask me that didn’t involve a last-minute text.

Lucas points to me and waggles his eyebrows.

I smile, feeling the rush of heat to my cheeks under the stares of so many people.

Hands grab my arms, push my back, shoving me up toward Lucas. I ascend the bleachers and accept a kiss I didn’t see coming. A few whistles and cheers ring out, increasing in volume when I say
yes.

I laugh, bashfully looking down at our spectators—and Cody standing below.

He raises a grin when he sees me looking his way. Then he turns and disappears into the crowd of popular boys.

After a few pictures with Lucas near the banner, we start down the bleachers. I should be caught up in this moment, all eyes for Lucas. I glance down toward the group of guys along the fence, falling instead for a boy I can’t have and shouldn’t want.

 

Solitary confinement. When we arrive to visit Mama Saturday afternoon, that’s where we learn she’s been for the past forty-eight hours. A casserole sits on the table between us, one I spent the morning sweating over in anticipation of today’s special visit when we can bring in goodies, something that’s only allowed once a quarter.

Dad is speechless, his tall form hunched over the table across from Mama. My throat constricts at the thought of what she’s been through.

“No way.” Vic laughs. “You went to the hole?”

“Vic,” Dad snaps.

Mama is near tears.

“Why?” I ask. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Mama says and darts a cautious look from side to side, a habit I imagine she developed here. She leans closer. “A month or so ago, Dottie gave me a bottle of conditioner when I ran out.”

“Dottie?” I ask.

“She’s in my dormitory.”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “The homicidal one?”

“Shh,” Dad shushes. “Let her finish the story.”

“No,” Mama answers, “not that one. Dottie’s one of the younger women in prison and one of the nicer ones, or so I thought. We sit by each other in the chow hall sometimes, and she’s always offering me stuff. Like orange juice. She says she hates it, right, so I accept her offer from time to time. Then the other day I’m out of stamps, but luckily, Dottie shows up and lends me one, tells me she has plenty.

“Then on Wednesday Dottie approaches me for a favor. Right off, I knew it was trouble.”

Mama closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath, lowering her voice even more. “She asked me to hide some stuff in my bunk for her.”

Dad lowers his head into his hands and Vic nods with an almost amused little smile, like they both know the rest of the story.

“Drugs?” I ask, my voice pitched for her ears alone.

Mama nods. “I never should have accepted any of her help in the first place. Now she thinks I owe her. I should have known that no one in here is willing to do something for you out of the pure goodness of her heart. There’s always a motive. I told Dottie no, of course. I couldn’t risk getting caught with contraband and having my sentence lengthened. Dottie started the fight. I had to defend myself.”

“Mama, throwing down in prison,” Vic says like he’s pinning a caption under the mental picture she just painted, and we’re all supposed to laugh.

“Shut up,” Dad says.

This is Vic’s way of trying to lighten up the situation, to make us all crack a smile. Right now is not the time, though, and it’s getting on all of our nerves.

“Don’t end up in prison, Vic,” Mama says, delivering perhaps the sternest lecture she’s ever given.

Vic doesn’t quite roll his eyes, but the expression on his face achieves that effect. He stands and starts toward the vending area. “I’m snagging a burrito.”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Dad says and follows after Vic.

I look down at the casserole I made—roasted bell peppers, cheese, enchilada sauce, and corn tortillas. The guards dragged a knife through it several times before we were allowed to bring it in. Solitary confinement, contraband, inmates picking fights, and guards who treat you like scum; I hate that Mama is in this place, this hell.

Mama grips my hand across the table. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Kinda hard not to,” I choke out over the lump in my throat.

“It’s not all bad in here,” she says, which can only be a lie. “I’ve learned some things.”

My eyes snap up. “Huh?”

“It’s true,” Mama says with a surprisingly convincing nod. “I have.”

“How so?”

“This place,” she says, with a melancholy look around the ceiling and the walls, “as much as I hate it, it’s taught me things.”

I loathe every word she speaks. I don’t like where this is going, not one bit. “Like what?” I ask with a cynical huff as tears blur my eyes.

“I spend a lot of time thinking,” she says. “Sometimes I think regret is inevitable, like we’re bound to regret any choice regardless. Every choice has good and bad associated with it. I convinced myself I was justified, you know, doing what I did. I still don’t regret helping Vic and I never will. I just know now that there had to have been a better way.”

Even though I can’t stand the thought of Mama benefiting in any way from this, I realize I’ve learned things, too. I recall my initial reaction to Cody in Ms. Quinn’s room, how I yelled and called him names and basically told him to piss off. I judged him far too harshly. Mama is too good, her heart so open and accepting, even to the harsh realities she’s faced.

“I’m doing it,” I say. “The pageant.”

I summon a smile, opening my heart to change as well and determined not to back down.

“No,” Mama says with a frown I wasn’t expecting. “You were right. Wearing the crown was my dream, not yours. It was a foolish dream anyway, one I should have forgotten long ago. I guess some of us never grow out of wanting to be something we aren’t.”

It hurts, every word. I look around this prison, a place where Mama will never be anything but Sonia Flores Schultz—a convict—a mother who gave up everything to help her son.

I squeeze her hand from across the table. “Too many of your dreams have been shattered already, Mama. I’m doing the pageant, no matter what you say. I’m doing it for you.”

Her eyelids drop slowly, and when they open, twin tears slide down her cheeks. She hides her face in the crook of her arm, folding herself over the table as silent sobs shake her shoulders.

 

I dial Trish’s number as soon as I get home. As luck would have it, Trish and Mindy are out shopping together, so I tell them both at the same time. “I’m doing the Miss City of Maricopa Pageant.”

Shrieks and cheers overwhelm my ear. I pull my cell away. They’re excited. I’m not sure what I expected, but this means a lot. I may not want a crowd at the pageant, but I definitely want my best friends there by my side. By the time we hang up, Mindy has offered her prom dress collection for me to choose an evening gown from and Trish has volunteered to help me with hair and makeup.

I put my phone down and smile. Listening to Mama talk about how prison has changed her has made me want to be better, too. I pull out the wad of cash Cody gave me. I haven’t spent a dime yet, and that’s good. At one point I would have been happy to accept payment from Cody and count it all as service, too. Now I realize it wouldn’t be right. Time is running out and I need those service hours.