I storm down the empty hallway after school and slam my locker open loudly. I’m so angry at myself I could actually slap myself. I stayed back after school to work on my art project but rather than focus on that, I instead thought about Charlie the whole time and then decided to call him when I was already in a bad mood. I didn’t even let him get a word in for the first five minutes, not until I realized he wasn’t speaking, and then when he did speak he sounded so cold and annoyed and I honestly couldn’t blame him. I don’t know what I was thinking. He pointed out that he doesn’t know what I do when I’m at school, but he trusts me and would never doubt me. He finished the conversation by telling me he needed some space from me for a couple of days, and now I’m scared I’ve really fucked up and he won’t want me anymore.
I throw my books into my locker, taking my anger out on them, and I bite down on my lip to stop the tears of frustration that are threatening to spill over.
“Are you okay?”
I jump and spin to my left to see Ryan standing there. He’s wearing sweats and a t-shirt. On his head is a backward baseball cap and he’s carrying a sports bag over his shoulder. He must have just finished practice. I glance to the side, surprised that he’s unusually on his own. When my gaze stretches behind him down the hallway, I see Jake and a couple of their teammates further down looking over at us, almost as if he was with them but has broken off to come and talk to me. When the group sees me looking over, they turn and exit the hallway.
I turn my attention back to my locker. “I’m fine.”
“You’re upset about something.”
“It’s nothing,” I tell him, hunting through my locker.
Where’s my damn algebra textbook!
“Tell me. Maybe I can help?”
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“Come on, tell me, Becs.” There it is again, that old nickname. I turn my head to look at him. He’s studying me intently.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not my name.”
“Yes it is,” he says with a smile.
“No. My name is Rebecca. Or Becca. Not Becs. It’s too…” I pause. “It’s too familiar,” I tell him with a sigh.
“Hey, Ryan,” two girls greet him, smiling flirtatiously as they walk past us. My eyes follow them, glad for the distraction, but when I turn back to Ryan, he hasn’t even glanced in their direction. His eyes are still focused on mine.
I raise my eyebrows at him. “You don’t want to follow them and see if there’s a spare classroom you can take advantage of?”
He smirks at me and glances away briefly before looking back into my eyes. “I’d rather talk to you,” he says quietly.
And I get it.
Just for a moment, I get why Ryan seems to have such an effect on the girls around here. Why Jessica Murphy is crazy about him even though she could have almost anyone else. How he seems to have girls lining up just to talk to him, how everything just comes so easily to him. When he focuses all his attention on you and those clear blue eyes pin you still, I can see what the big deal is. I mean, all he did was tell me he wanted to talk to me. God knows what it’s like for a girl when he’s actually trying to hook up with them.
“Tell me, Becs,” he repeats. “Is it Charlie?”
He’s asking me to trust him, to share with him whatever’s bothering me and for a second, I think I will. Maybe it would help to get a guy’s opinion to see where Charlie’s coming from and for him to tell me how I can fix this, but the truth is, I don’t want him to know my private business. I don’t trust him not to use it against me at some point in the future. Not necessarily to spread it around for gossip, but just to hold over me in case he ever needs something from me. I know we’ve been on better terms recently and my opinion on him is definitely starting to change, but he’s still the guy who screwed me over when I was twelve years old. And that’s something I can’t forget.
I shake my head at him and his mouth presses into a thin line. I know he doesn’t believe me. He knows it’s probably Charlie that’s upset me, that’s gotten this reaction out of me, but he also knows I’ve chosen not to confide in him. Chosen not to let him in.
I mumble something about leaving and turn to walk off, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist, gently tugging me back around to face him and pulling me closer to him. I pull my hand away from his grip, probably more aggressively than is needed, and pretend not to notice the look of hurt that briefly crosses his face.
“It’s Jakes birthday soon,” he blurts out before I can make an excuse to leave again. “His mom wants to throw a party and for it to be a surprise. She wanted me to invite his friends.”
“I know,” I tell him. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Jessica Murphy told me. She’s helping you arrange it, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m just inviting people for his mom. She’s doing the whole thing. I think a barbecue in the evening, and then they’ll take off and leave us the house to party in.”
“She told me she was organizing it with you. Right before she warned me to stay away from you.”
“She did what?” he demands. He looks genuinely angry.
I shrug. “Well, she didn’t say those exact words, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she was hinting.”
“Becca, we’re not together. I promise you.”
I sigh. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Ryan. Just keep her away from me, okay? I don’t need your psycho hook-ups hassling me.”
He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. “So, will you come to Jake’s party?” he eventually asks.
I sigh and shake my head. I don’t know why he’s bothering to ask me. We both know I won’t go; it’s the last place I’d want to be. I love Jake but can’t stand most of his friends.
He groans in frustration. “Come on, Becca. For Jake? It’s not like I’m asking you to come to
my
party or anything. You actually like Jake, you two are good friends.” He sounds bitter and almost…jealous? I quickly dismiss the thought. Even Ryan wouldn’t be bothered that his best friend talks to someone he doesn’t. Surely he’s not that pathetic.
“Just think about it, okay?” he asks me. “For Jake? He’ll want you to be there.”
I sigh and nod my head, knowing full well I won’t go. I turn to leave again and this time, he doesn’t try to stop me.
R
yan won’t have any trouble getting people to Jake’s party. He’s a great guy and we all know it.
Jake transferred to our school in the middle of second grade and his easy humor and constant grin meant he was instantly liked by everyone. His good looks didn’t hurt either, even at that young age. Of course being the naturally pessimistic person that I am, I was unsure of him. That changed one day in gym class when he was the captain of one of the teams. I had been annoyed knowing that he and another boy would just pick all the best boys and us girls would be left until last. Ryan, of course, didn’t care, knowing he would get picked first anyway, especially now that it was Jake picking. Jake had stood at the front of our class and then picked me first. I was totally surprised but couldn’t hide my delight. Ryan ended up getting picked first for the other team and didn’t stop sulking all week when mine and Jake’s team won. That was it—I was sold on Jake too.
He’s always been a good friend to me, always loyal. He’s just a good guy. It’s that simple.
About three weeks before the end of sophomore year, I walked into the cafeteria at lunchtime and instantly felt a weird atmosphere. Not a hostile atmosphere. But something was definitely up. Students were talking amongst themselves in low tones and there wasn’t the usual rowdy noise and laughter that filled the room during lunchtime.
“What’s going on?” I asked sinking into my seat next to Sam and across from Erica.
“You didn’t hear? Jake passed out during gym class,” Erica told me.
“Jake Edmondson? Is he okay? Is he with the school nurse?”
“No, as in passed out, fainted onto the floor. They couldn’t wake him up,” Erica continued, her face displaying the seriousness of the situation.
I turned to look at Sam in confusion. “What do you mean they couldn’t wake him up?”
She shrugged, worry clear in her eyes. “They had to call an ambulance. He hadn’t woken up by the time they’d gotten here.”
I swear my stomach dropped through the floor.
Not Jake. Not Jake. Please, don’t let anything be wrong with Jake
, I remember thinking over and over. This explained the hushed tones in the cafeteria. Jake was popular but not in the usual way. He wasn’t unobtainable and cliquey, he was friendly and happy go lucky. He had time for everyone and the fact that he was in the hospital, possibly seriously ill, would worry a lot of people.
“But he’s fine now? He woke up in the ambulance, right?”
“No one knows,” Erica replied. “I don’t even think his best friends know. The school banned anyone from going over there because we’d just get in the way of his doctors and family.”
“Right, yeah. I didn’t think of that.”
I turned in my chair to look at Jake’s usual table, but it was mostly empty. I glanced to the door just as Ryan walked in with a couple of friends, and his face told me just how serious the situation was. It was ashen and his eyes looked red, like he’d been crying. Oh shit. This was serious.
“Shit,” I whispered. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Suddenly, Sam reached down and grabbed her purse and pulled her jacket over her shoulders. She turned to look at me. “I have the keys to my brother’s car from this morning and I have my permit. I say we just go over there and find out.”
I looked at her, trying to focus on her words. It was so unlike Sam to suggest doing something against the rules, driving a car without someone with a license in it and heading over to the hospital when we’d been banned from going.
“Becca,” she continued, snapping her fingers in my face. “This is Jake, he’s one of your oldest friends and he could be really ill right now. We can go over there and find out what’s going on.”
I jumped up. “Right. Let’s go.”
She pulled me back. “We should ask if Ryan wants to come. He’s his best friend.”
I was about to protest. I didn’t see why Ryan couldn’t sort himself out, but one look in his direction showed just how worried he was. I nodded my agreement and followed Sam over to their table which had steadily filled up with worried faces.
Sam stopped across from him. “Ryan? We’re gonna drive over to the hospital to see how Jake is. Do you want to come?”
A look of surprise crossed his face, almost as though that thought had never occurred to him. He turned to his right and Mason had shaken his head. “They said we’d be in the way and upset his parents.”
Ryan turned to me helplessly, almost as if asking me what to do. I sighed and shrugged. “We could be there in like twenty minutes and leave as soon as we know how he is.” That seemed to be all the confirmation Ryan needed. He jumped up and followed us out of the cafeteria, walking so fast we had to run to catch up with him.
Well, that was it; it was like a tsunami effect. Suddenly everyone was jumping up and heading to the parking lot. We all arrived at the hospital around the same time and none of us were told to leave.
Turns out Jake had bacterial meningitis and that nine hours I sat in the waiting room were the most terrifying of my life, waiting to know if he would make it or not. Somehow I ended up sitting next to Ryan, and for once I didn’t immediately distance himself from him. When I briefly got up to use the bathroom, I came back to see that someone had taken my seat so I sat in an empty seat across the room. Ryan immediately moved and came to sit next to me. It was like he didn’t want to be apart from me. We barely spoke, but I think it was the memory of the young friendship he, Jake and I had shared that made him want to be close to me. He knew I loved Jake just as much as he did. A lot of the students left after a couple of hours, but I couldn’t leave without knowing he was okay, and when my mom arrived with Mrs. Jackson bringing food and offering their sympathies to Jake’s parents, I refused to leave. Finally, when they told us he’d gotten through the worst of it, I let her take me home.
The next couple of weeks were pretty shitty for Jake. It was a really slow recovery and he was totally exhausted. I visited him every couple of days and he seemed to be returning more and more to his normal self. Then summer was here and I was off to Sam’s childhood summer camp to work as a junior counselor. I spent eight weeks away from home, calling and texting Jake to check in with him but really just getting on with my summer.
I got back from camp a week before school started and my dad took me to get my driver’s license (I turned sixteen over the summer). I drove over to Jakes to see him and was delighted to see he had made what looked like a full recovery.
“You look good,” I told him leaning against the doorframe that led to his family room. He turned around in surprise at my voice and grinned when he saw me. I returned the smile and walked in to meet him, leaning down to hug him tightly while he sat on the sofa. “Really, really good,” I whispered. I still couldn’t believe how close we had come to losing him.
He hugged me back, and then we sat and talked about our summers and he told me how much better he was feeling. I pulled my car keys out of my bag and dangled them in front of him like a prize.