On the Fence (13 page)

Chapter 28

I
grabbed my duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder, picked up my pillow, and headed for the stairs.

“Dad, we need to leave in fifteen minutes,” I called down the hall, then took the stairs two at a time and dropped my stuff by the front door. In the kitchen, I grabbed a bowl and poured myself some cereal. The doorbell rang, and since I was the only one up and ready for the day, I went to answer it. “Ready” was a relative term. I had woken up, showered, thrown my hair in a ponytail, and pulled on some sweats. So when I opened the door and saw Evan standing there, I tried to resist the urge to shove my pillow in front of my face. He’d never seen me without makeup. I pursed my lips together. No. This was good. This was how I normally looked, and this would prove he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t want you to leave for a week without saying good-bye in person.”

“Oh. Great. Come in.” I stood aside. “I was just about to eat some breakfast. Do you want anything?”

“No. Already ate. But don’t let me stop you.”

As I poured the milk on my cereal, I felt Evan staring. I looked up with a questioning eyebrow raise.

“You look different in the morning,” he said.

I couldn’t tell if it was a good different or a bad different. “I haven’t put my makeup on,” I said.
Because I usually don’t unless I’m going out,
I should’ve added.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “So, is this a girls’ camp or is it coed?”

“It’s coed. But we each have our own dorms, of course.” I took a bite of my cereal.

“That’s cool. I was just thinking . . . before you left . . . that maybe we should define what we . . .” The back door swung open and Braden stepped inside, his eyes locking with mine. I didn’t know if he even saw Evan sitting on the barstool. Braden looked like crap. His hair was a mess, his eyes looked more green than brown today, rimmed with red, like he hadn’t slept for days. His T-shirt was wrinkled, and he wore a pair of athletic shorts and flip-flops. Seeing him like that made my heart ache. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for calling him a jerk. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t, not with an audience.

“I’m sorry for the other night. I don’t want to leave things like this,” he said, without warming up to it. “Truce?”

I looked at Evan, then back at Braden. Braden finally noticed Evan and his expression went dark.

“Hey, man,” Evan said.

Braden just nodded, then turned his attention back to me. “Have fun at camp.” He backed out the door before I could stop him. I thought about going after him, talking things through. I hated how things were between us too, but as I took a step toward the door, my dad walked into the kitchen.

“Almost ready, Charlie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, hello, Evan.”

Evan stood. “Hi.”

I took a couple of spoonfuls of my Cheerios and put the bowl in the sink. “I’m ready. I’ll be right out.”

He left the kitchen and I gave Evan an apologetic shoulder shrug. I wasn’t that sorry, though. I didn’t want him to finish the conversation he was trying to start before Braden walked in. I didn’t want to define our relationship before I left. I needed the time away to think about our relationship.

“When you get home, I want to take you out,” Evan said, coming around the counter and giving me a hug.

“Sounds good.” I started to pull away, but then realized he wanted a kiss, too, so I stepped forward again and right onto his foot. “Oh, sorry.” I looked down, but apparently he was still going in for the kiss, because we bumped heads. “I’m not doing well this morning.”

He slid his hand onto the back of my neck.

“Oh,” I said. “Third time’s a charm?” I leaned forward and our lips finally met. Knowing my dad was waiting in the car—and with the look that had been on Braden’s face moments ago flashing through my mind—I pulled away faster than I might have otherwise. “Thanks.”

He smiled. “Have fun.” He squeezed my hand, then held on to it as we walked toward the front door. My dad must’ve gotten my stuff, because it wasn’t there anymore.

“Charlie!” A loud cry echoed from upstairs, then what sounded like a stampede came rushing down. Gage wrapped me in a hug. “Be a good girl. Don’t work so hard that you barf like you did last year.”

“Your words of wisdom are invaluable.”

“You barfed last year?” Evan said.

Gage pulled back. “Oh, hey, Evan.”

“Hi . . .”

“Gage.”

Evan pointed. “Right. Still learning.”

“We should hang out while Charlie’s gone.”

“Yeah . . . sure.”

I bit my lip, not sure how I felt about that. I wanted my brothers to get to know Evan. I liked Evan. But I was feeling unsettled, like I still needed to figure out my feelings. I squeezed Gage’s hand, went up on my tiptoes, and whispered, “Take Braden out today, okay?” He nodded against my cheek. I backed toward the car. “Well, I’ll see you guys later.”

I climbed in the car and sank against the seat with a loud sigh.

“Boy troubles?” my dad asked.

I rubbed my hands on my thighs. Could I really talk to my dad about this? It would probably make him uncomfortable. I’d come back from camp and he’d have new advice from his coworker Carol, who was starting to seem a little nosy to me. “I don’t know. This is all so new to me that I don’t even know what ‘boy troubles’ means.”

He laughed. “Don’t think too hard. And you don’t have to jump into a relationship with the first boy who looks at you nice, Charlie. If you don’t like him, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“What makes you think I don’t like him?”

“The look of terror on your face when I walked into the kitchen a minute ago.”

I started to nod, but then remembered that look wasn’t for Evan. My dad walked into the kitchen right after Braden had walked out. “I don’t know how I feel.” And that was the truth. I hoped camp would help me sort things out.

Chapter 29

C
amp took place at a little private college on the coast, three hours south of us. The first two days at camp, I shut everyone and everything out, even my friends I hadn’t seen since last summer. I got in the zone, focusing only on the game. It felt good to let my body take over and my mind think only about basketball.

“Keep playing like that, Charlie, and you’re going to have your pick of colleges,” one of the coaches said as I threw my ball into the bin to leave the gym for the night.

“Thanks, coach.”

I left the gym and breathed in the coastal air. I didn’t usually run on the beach. I wasn’t sure why. Our house was only about ten miles inland. I hadn’t wanted to tie up the car for my daily run. But the ocean helped me sink even farther into my brainless routine. Its repetitive rhythm and steadiness lent to my complete shutout of the world around me. So I headed to the beach for a pre-dinner run. It was freeing not to have restrictions on what time of day I could run. Some other kids from camp had the same idea, and I fell in step with a group of guys who I knew from last summer.

We all greeted each other but didn’t disrupt our run with talking. This was what I liked about camp—a lot of focused people coming together. This was me. Already this week had redirected me, reminded me about what I loved. The game. The competition. So did that mean there was no place in my life for other things?

No. I just had to bring myself to the game and make sure everyone still wanted to be part of my life. Braden was right, as hard as it was to admit: Evan didn’t know all of who I was. But he was wrong about the other part—that Evan wouldn’t like me if he did. I thought he would. I smiled and picked up my pace.

With my hair still wet from my shower, I headed for my dorm room, ready to sleep hard tonight. I opened the door. Susie looked up from where she lay on her bed, staring at her phone. She’d been my roommate for the last two years.

“Hey, Charlie.”

Our schedules had been off this year because we were on different teams, so this was the first chance I’d really gotten to talk to her. I kicked off my flip-flops and threw my duffel bag into the corner. “Hi.”

“You’re killing it out there this year. I need whatever coach you’ve been using.”

I smiled. “It’s called the trying-to-sort-out-boys program.”

She sat up on her bed and tossed her phone onto the nightstand. “I’m listening.”

I groaned. “There’s nothing to tell. One boy is driving me crazy and another boy might not be the One.” I sank onto my bed with another groan.

“Tell me about him.”

“Which one?”

She shrugged. “Both.”

“Evan. He’s cute and nice and fun.”

“But . . .”

I laughed. “But maybe I haven’t been completely myself around him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought he wouldn’t like me.”

“Well, that’s no good.”

“I know.”

“And what about the other boy? Is he a contender in the race for your heart too?”

“I don’t think there’s really a race. But no, he’s not. He’s my neighbor and apparently thinks he’s my boss. He’s mad at me for dating Evan. He doesn’t like him.”

“Braden?”

I whipped my head toward her.

“This is our third summer together, Charlie. I do know things.”

“Right. And yes, Braden.”

“What doesn’t he like about him?”

“He thinks he’s . . .” I tried to think of the word Braden used to describe Evan. “Ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Because he wears loafers or something. No good reason.”

She smiled knowingly. “So Braden is jealous. You didn’t tell me Braden liked you.”

“No. He doesn’t.”

“What makes you think he doesn’t like you?”

I rolled onto my side, hugging my pillow to my chest. “He told me.”

“Ouch.”

“No. It’s not like that. I don’t like Braden. Well, okay, I was crushing on him for a while, but we’re friends. We can’t like each other like that. It was more embarrassing than hurtful,” I said, remembering the humiliation that night by the fence.

“Does he like another girl?”

“No. Well, actually, yes. One I introduced him to.”

“What does she have that you don’t?”

I gave a single laugh. “Femininity.”

She threw a wadded-up sock at me. “Who wants that?”

“Apparently guys.”

Susie laughed. “So I hear.” She rolled onto her back. “If he doesn’t want you for you, then he’s not worth it.”

Hadn’t Braden said those exact same words to me when referring to Evan? I laughed. “Susie. You’re not hearing me. I don’t want Braden . . . anymore. Our friendship is more important to me.” But did we even have that anymore? My heart sank with the thought that maybe I had ruined that. Or he did.

“So then you’re going to try with Evan?”

“I don’t know. He’s fine. He just knows the other me, not the real me.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Other you?”

“Yes, I have a bit of a split personality, apparently. Long story.”

“We have all night.”

I filled her in on my side job and why I had to get it. On how I met Evan, and Braden’s reaction to him.

“Wait, so if Braden hates his guts and Evan really is a nice guy, don’t you think that means Braden is jealous?”

“No, Braden thinks I’m being fake around Evan.”

“And you are?”

“Sometimes.”

“But why would Braden care so much unless he cared? You know what I mean?”

“He cares. Just not like that.” I rearranged my pillow and adjusted my position. “I’m just glad I’m here. I needed a break from both of them.”

“Breaks are good. Maybe the time away will help clarify things.”

That’s exactly what I hoped for. “You got the light?” I asked.

“You’re closer.”

“Am not.”

She picked up a stuffed basketball next to her and threw it across the room at the light panel, plunging us into darkness. “Nice shot,” I said.

“Thanks.”

Susie snored. I knew this because I could not sleep. She needed one of those machines with the straps. I’d have to tell Braden.

It was only eleven, but I should’ve been exhausted. My brain wouldn’t shut off. I told Susie that I hoped this week would help me clarify things, but I realized I wasn’t trying to clarify anything. I was trying to shut everything out. That was why I was working so hard. Physical exertion made me forget; the adrenaline, the high of the competition helped me block out everything else.

What I really needed right now was to sit by the fence and talk about my problems with Braden. I wanted to hear the timbre of his voice as he responded to me. He had a very soothing voice. And he always knew just what to say . . . except he seemed to be saying all the wrong things lately and making me mad. Nobody could make me as mad as he could. It was probably because he knew me so well that he knew what bothered me the most.

I could picture his face perfectly—hazel eyes, floppy auburn hair, a very light dusting of freckles. The way his cheeks turned red when he worked too hard. Like that night he ran behind me for five miles when we were fighting, just so I wouldn’t run alone. His cheeks had been so red that night.

I moved to my side and readjusted my blankets. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was his face with his lopsided smile. That was my favorite. It was like he was amused but didn’t want to admit it. He gave me that look a lot. Like the time he beat me in one-on-one basketball. I liked that he didn’t let me win, but I was so mad that he won. He found that so amusing.

I wasn’t amused right now. Right now I was still hurt that Braden didn’t think Evan could like me for me. Why did I care what Braden thought anyway? It didn’t matter. My brothers seemed to think Evan was nice. That was enough.

Only it wasn’t.

Why wasn’t it?

I growled and moved onto my back, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, hoping they could tell me the answer to that question. The only thing I saw on the ceiling was Braden’s face.

My heart gave a jolt and I sat up. Crap.

I knew why I cared. Why this mattered so much. Why his opinion was the only thing that mattered.

I was more than just crushing on him. I loved Braden.