Departures (13 page)

“There,” he said when he was satisfied the key had worked.

Suddenly a burst of bright color soared across the sky. Christy hugged the blanket, her chin pointed to the heavens as the two of them watched the beginning of the fireworks display. Matt stood beside her.

“Where are they coming from?” Christy asked.

“The parking lot of the municipal pool.”

The second brilliant stream of glittering color burst in the sky, and Christy gave an appropriate, “Ooh! Aah!”

“Ooh! Aah!” Matt repeated teasingly when the next spray of vibrant lights dotted the sky.

“Sing to the one who rides across the ancient heavens,” Christy said, casually resting her head against Matt’s shoulder. “God is awesome in his sanctuary.”

Another spray of fireworks splashed across the sky, and Matt asked, “Did you just make that up?”

“No, it’s in the Bible. Psalm Sixty-Eight. A friend of mine is writing some music to go with the words.”

Matt let his chin brush the top of her head. “Do you think we can go back, Christy?”

“Back to the picnic area?”

“No, you goof,” he said, stepping away from her and leaning against the back of the van so he could face her. “Do you think we can go back to being whatever we were before I told you I had a crush on you?”

“No,” Christy said, shaking her head. “I don’t think we can.”

Matt looked worried.

“I think we just go on from here. We don’t have to change anything. Look at it this way: I had a crush on you for seven years. Did that change anything?”

Matt laughed. “I guess not. But I didn’t have my driver’s license then.”

Christy smiled. “What does that have to do with it?”

“I guess it’s symbolic. I can pretty much do what I want now, you know?”

Christy did know what he meant. It was that wonderful and terrible realization that they were on the brink of being adults and being responsible for making their own catastrophes from there on out.

“Yeah, I know,” Christy said. She turned her head to see the next blast of fireworks. In the dim light, she noticed that Grandpa’s canoe was still strapped to the roof of Uncle Bob’s rental car. Grandpa had insisted the canoe accompany them for the day because he was sure the kids would want to go canoeing. But when they all left for the water park, obviously none of the adults could be persuaded to go out in the old thing. Christy’s dad had said years ago that that canoe should be hanging in a museum because it was older than Grandpa,
but Grandpa insisted it was still seaworthy. That claim hadn’t been tried today.

As they watched the fireworks, Christy wondered if her old crush on Matt was still “seaworthy.” It might be, but she wasn’t going to unstrap it from where she had hung it on a wall of her heart. That “canoe” of old feelings would also go untried this day.

“I had a wonderful time being around you this weekend,” Christy said, turning to face Matt. “I’m content to let everything be what it was and what it is and not try to push it any further. Is that okay with you?”

Matt paused. “You know what I think?” He reached over with a closed fist and gave Christy a playful punch across the jaw. “You’re a good friend, but I think, without knowing it, I was practicing on you this weekend.”

“Practicing on me?” Christy didn’t know if she should feel insulted.

“I told you about my limited dating experience.” Matt paused, as if trying hard not to be embarrassed. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I felt safe with you. I guess I thought I could practice my dating skills on you because you had a boyfriend. Then, when you said you and Todd had broken up, I started to wonder, ‘What if?’ ”

Christy nodded. “I call it ‘The Land of If Only.’ It’s an okay place to visit but a dangerous place to live.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “That’s what it was. A little journey to the Land of If Only. With us living so far apart, it’s not very realistic to think about a relationship, is it?”

Christy shook her head. She reached over, took Matt’s rough hand
in hers, and gave it a squeeze. “I’m honored I was your practice date. I’d give you an A in all areas.”

Matt squeezed her hand back. “No ‘needs to improve’ on my report card?”

“Well, maybe one,” Christy said, letting go of his hand. “You could occasionally open the door for a girl. Or at least go around and stand by her side of the car after you get out so she doesn’t feel abandoned.”

“Okay,” Matt said seriously, as if he were taking notes. “Anything else?”

Christy thought a moment. “No, just keep being your wonderful self, Matthew Kingsley. Girls will continue to adore you for who you are. I know I always have.”

Matt stood, looking at her, smiling slightly. “I wish they all could be California girls.”

Christy laughed. “I think I’m still a Midwest farmer’s daughter. You come to Rancho Corona, and I’ll introduce you to some real California girls.”

“Who knows,” Matt said, his grin broadening, “I just might do that.”

The two of them turned their faces toward the ancient heavens, observing one more blast of dazzling brilliance.

“Come on,” Matt said, motioning with his head toward the picnic area. “Let’s go back.”

“No,” Christy said with a smile, “let’s go on.”

Matt and Christy walked side by side across the grass. A melancholy contentment hung over Christy. Was it possible to do the right
thing, make the right decision, and say the right words yet still feel sad about it afterward?

Matt tagged her on the shoulder and said, “Eeny meeny boo boo” and took off running.

Christy laughed and started to run after him, even though she knew this was the last time she would ever chase Matthew Kingsley.

ierra Jensen stuffed the last of a granola bar in her mouth and surveyed the airport waiting area that had become way too familiar during the past hour. She brushed back her long, wild blond hair and asked her friend Jana, “When do you think the guys will be back?”

“I don’t know,” Jana said, her brown eyes looking past Sierra’s shoulder for the hundredth time. “Maybe the airline they went to check on doesn’t have any openings on its flights to Montana.”

“Then what do we do?” Sierra asked.

“Don’t ask me,” Jana said. “I’ve never been the victim of an airline strike before.”

Sierra tapped her foot in time to the song that had been stuck in her head for several hours. “Why did they have to go on strike on a holiday weekend? There should be laws against that.”

This was the first time fifteen-year-old Sierra had traveled anywhere without her parents or one of her four brothers or her sister. The plan had been a simple one. Jana’s parents were driving to their family cabin on a lake near Glacier National Park to spend some time alone. A week later Jana, her older brother, Gregg, his friend Tim, and Sierra would fly up for the Fourth of July weekend.

None of them expected the connecting flight in Seattle to be
rerouted to the central terminal in Minneapolis. Now the group was on its own, trying to find a flight to Montana.

“Isn’t there a big mall in Minneapolis?” Sierra asked. “If we can’t catch a flight, we could hang out at the mall.”

Jana looked wary. Her short brown hair was tucked behind her ears and off her face, which meant her thoughts were easily read in her open expression. Jana was physically larger than Sierra and six months older. They had been friends for several years in their small northern California town of Pineville. Sierra and Jana were both top students in their class, and they both loved sports—although Jana often complained that Sierra had an unfair athletic advantage because she was thinner and faster. The friendly competition they shared was one of the foundation stones of their friendship.

Jana was the cautious one of the two, and she didn’t seem to think the mall was such a great idea. “All I know is that we’re supposed to wait here for Gregg and Tim, and when they come back, we’re supposed to call my parents to tell them what we found out.”

“Do you think it would be okay if I went to that café over there to buy something to drink?” Sierra asked. She ran her tongue over her back teeth, releasing bits of oats left over from the granola bar.

“I don’t know if you should leave,” Jana said.

“I’ll only be gone for a few minutes, and you can run over and get me if the guys come back.”

Jana looked around, as if calculating all the factors, before nodding to Sierra.

“Do you want anything?” Sierra offered.

“Lemonade, if they have it. No sugar.”

“What if the lemonade already has sugar in it?”

“That’s okay. Just don’t add any.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Sierra grabbed her backpack and took off mumbling to herself, “Like I would go around slipping sugar into her lemonade!” Sierra knew it wasn’t fair to be critical of Jana’s concern over calories just because Sierra had never had to concentrate on her weight.

Walking around relaxed Sierra. She decided to make a quick detour into the bookstore next to the café. An interesting magazine might help her friend relax a little too. Who knew how long they might be stuck here.

The bookstore was small, and the space was so tight Sierra took off her backpack and balanced it at her feet. A tall, good-looking guy walked in and stood next to Sierra at the magazine rack. He had sun-bleached blond hair and was wearing a white T-shirt with a surfing logo on the back. While Sierra flipped through one of the magazines, she decided to conduct an experiment with this unsuspecting guy. She had tried this before but never with satisfying results; maybe today would be different.

The goal was to see if the guy would notice her without her trying to draw attention to herself. She felt ready to move beyond her image of a freckle-faced tomboy and to be noticed by guys the way her gorgeous older sister, Tawni, was. The tricky part was figuring out if guys thought she looked interesting enough to pay attention to her.

Sierra flipped through the magazine and tossed a subtle, sideways glance toward the guy. About two minutes into the experiment, the results were zilch.

Then Sierra heard a girl greet the guy. “Hello” was all she said.

Sierra kept her head facing the magazine while doing her best to
see what was going on out of the corner of her eye. The guy didn’t respond to the teenage girl’s hello.

Then Sierra heard the girl say, “Hi,” in a more decisive tone. Sierra couldn’t see the girl’s face, but she could see that the guy had turned to look at her. When he did, the girl broke into a string of stammering words. It appeared to be a case of mistaken identity.

Sierra had to look. She turned nonchalantly toward the guy just as the girl hurried away. The tall girl had long, nutmeg brown hair, and a tagalong boy beside her was loudly giving her a hard time. The boy reminded Sierra of her two younger brothers and how they often acted around her.

She was glad that even though she was stuck at the airport, she was with her friend and not her younger brothers.

Just then the guy next to Sierra tried to move past her and said, “Excuse me.”

Sierra stepped aside and kicked her backpack out of his way.
So does that mean he just noticed me? At least he was polite. I’d score this experiment as a three out of ten. Maybe a four. No, a two and a half. Yeah, a two and a half. I still have a long way to go before I catch a guy’s attention—and not because I’m in his way
.