There Will Come a Time (27 page)

“I'm going to call her.” I am. I will. I don't know what to say, but I need to face her, or rather, face my feelings. The perfect
situation comes to mind. “In fact, I'm going to see if she wants to go bowling.”

“Since when do you bowl?”

“Everyone bowls.”

“Want to practice with Charlie later?”

“Can't tonight. I have another practice.” Since Hanna pulled through, I figured I should do one of the things I had bargained with God as I carried her down the mountain. I e-mailed Marty and told him I could play bass again at church when he needed me. He needed me that week.

Eddie sticks his head out of the door of the truck. “Break's over,” he calls.

Sebastian pockets the sack and I tie the apron back on.

“Ready,” we say, and head for the truck.

•  •  •  •

“So when did you start bowling?” Hanna asks as we pull into the bowling alley two nights later.

“I picked it up recently.”

“When you asked if I wanted to hang out tonight, I wasn't expecting this. I'm not really dressed for bowling.” Her fingers play with the edge of her jean skirt.

“You look good to me. What were you expecting?”

She shrugs. “Hanging out at your house or maybe a trip to the bridge.”

“My bridge days are over,” I say.

“Really?” She doesn't sound like she believes me.

“Come on,” I say.

I lead her inside and over to the Chinese restaurant. The group is sitting in the same spot in the back. A couple of the women see me and wave me over. Hanna's eyes shoot me questions as I introduce her, though she's already met some of the group from the candlelight service.

Greg and I shake hands. We sit and he begins the meeting. It's similar to the last time, with people taking turns sharing about their twin or about how they're dealing with their loss. When it comes to me, I tell them about how I went and forgave Tony.

“How do you feel now?” Greg asks.

“It's hard to put in words. Relieved, I guess. A part of me still hates the guy, but I think that's okay. Maybe one day I won't even feel that anymore. It feels good to do something to make Grace proud again.” I feel Hanna's eyes on me, but I don't face her.

“Thank you for sharing that with us, Mark,” Greg says.

He guides the discussion to business items, and then we are all set to bowl. This time I at least know how to pick out a ball.

On my first turn, I follow the three steps that Ann taught me last time. The ball heads straight down the aisle toward that sweet spot between the first and the second pin. I wait at the line, watching the ball, hoping I'll get a strike.

“Ooh, you got it, Mark,” Ann calls out behind me.

I believe her. This is it. The strike's gonna happen. In the last second, the ball wavers and hits only four pins. I turn around and throw both arms up in the air as if to say,
I'm awesome
.

My team applauds and high-fives me.

“You're getting the hang of it,” Jessica says.

“Yeah, you've been practicing,” Greg says, and laughs.

Because of our numbers, Hanna's actually on the competing team. She gets up and, even in a little jean skirt, bowls a strike with a professional-looking curve ball. She turns and offers a smug grin.

“Hey!” I say as she sits down next to me. “Not bad.”

“Junior high bowling team,” she says.

“I forgot about that.”

“Come on, Mark, rub the ball,” Ann says. I reach out and give the ball she's holding a good massage. “We need all the help we can get, with you giving a ringer to the other team.” She winks at me before stepping up. She bowls a strike and does a little dance.

“She's hilarious,” Hanna says.

“Yeah.”

“It's good to see you so happy.”

The word would have made me cringe a couple of months ago, because it seems so shallow, so easy to fake. I also couldn't imagine myself ever happy without Grace. I had resigned myself to thinking I didn't deserve to be happy ever again.

“I'm on my way to happy,” I tell her, which is the truth.

“On your way to happy,” she says. “I'll take that.”

I'm up again. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck.”

This time I don't concentrate as much. I walk slowly to the line and let the ball go. Gutter ball. I still get high fives and whistles from my team.

•  •  •  •

We don't speak on the drive home. It's not an uncomfortable silence, more of a quiet between two people who don't have to prove anything to each other. But there's something else in the silence, something that's been between us for years, which I've tried to ignore or avoid. But I'm tired of avoiding. I park, and Hanna's about to say good-bye when I ask her, “You tired?”

“Not really.”

“Come on, let's take a walk.”

“I can't believe it's Christmas in four days,” she says as we make our way up the street. “Senior year is going too fast. Everything is happening too fast.”

“Get all your shopping in?” I ask her.

“Yeah.”

“Did you get me anything?”

“We're buying each other gifts now?” she asks, turning toward me with a playful grin.

“Maybe.”

“Well, don't hold your breath. I don't know if I'll have time.”

We walk side by side. The sky is dark except for a few tiny stars. The moon is nowhere to speak of. With each step I'm working up the courage. How many times have we done this? Walked our streets. Her body fitting perfectly alongside mine. Talking about nothing that turns into something that becomes nothing again.

“Steve's moving in January twentieth,” she says. “They took me out to dinner to discuss it, so I'd be involved in the process. It's not bad. He's not bad. It's change, you know. And that can be a good thing.”

I decide now's the time to either go big or go home. I take her hand. We continue walking as if it's the most natural thing for us to be holding hands. I want to say something, to define this moment, but I can't find the words.

I think of the line from Grace's poem,
Lots of things can happen between seventeen and forever.
It's true. I don't know if it'll work out, if we'll be together ten years from now or even next year. I only know that her hand is warm in mine. I know that I want Hanna.

“When we were on that mountain, when you looked like . . .” I have to stop speaking at the thought of Hanna slumped over, barely responsive.

“I was so stupid,” Hanna interrupts in a rush of words.
“Careless. I didn't anticipate how strenuous the hike would be. I didn't want to have to carry anything up there, so I left my bag in the car. I forgot I had silenced Pepe's alerts the night before. It was like all the worst things that could happen actually happened. The doctor told me if it wasn't for you, I could have gone into a coma or even died. You saved me.”

I let that sink in.
I saved her
. I couldn't save Grace, but I saved Hanna. In a way, she also saved me. She stuck by me, even when I was messed up. She's still here with me.

“We're like this cliché,” I say. “The boy and the girl across the street.”

“It'll never work,” she says softly.

“Probably not.” I stop and face her. She looks up at me. I reach out and touch her hair. It's soft, like I knew it would be. “But here's the thing: You're my Top Five.”

She smiles big. “Which number?”

“The whole thing.”

I lean forward and kiss her. Her lips are soft and cool because of the night air. It's better than I imagined. My whole body trembles, so I cup her face with my hands, but it's not enough. I wrap my arms around her, drawing her body close to mine, and kiss her. Hanna's hands circle my neck and pull me in, and I feel like I'm going under, so I anchor myself to her as the deep sea of night swirls around us.

T
he weatherman had predicted rain, but there's not a gray cloud in the sky. In fact, there aren't any clouds. It's a perfect blue.

Have a great run.
It's a text from Mom. I have to admit, I still get a little thrown when I see it's her. I'm not totally comfortable, but I'm trying, and I think that's what's important.

Thanks.

See you in a couple of weeks?

Roger that

I don't know if Mom and I will ever be superclose, but I'm giving her what she wanted. I'm giving her a chance. Which is all that anyone is really asking for.

My family and Hanna check in. It's a relatively smooth
process. We're all given a number that we pin to our chests. Even Fern gets a number. My parents are going to walk the route with her.

I find Sebastian stretching in the grass near the starting line. I'm surprised to see Pete with him; I didn't know he signed up. I'm not surprised that Pete looks like a runner from the '80s, with his blue sweatband, white T-shirt that says
I HEART RUNNING
, and blue shorts.

“That's a serious outfit,” I say. “I didn't know you ran.”

“I'm a man of many talents.”

“I have a headband too,” Fern says, and points to the purple band holding back her hair.

“We can be running partners,” Pete tells her.

We join them stretching and make a wider circle.

“The famous Hanna,” Pete says. “Nice to finally meet you.”

She raises an eyebrow at me but says, “Likewise. Oh, and congrats on the Otis thing. Mark told me.” After the show, Pete was granted early acceptance.

“Thank you.”

“That looks like River,” my dad says, gesturing to a tall guy in the registration line.

“Yeah, I told him about it. River!” I yell.

He jogs over to us after checking in, the only real runner of our group. My dad and Jenny give him a hug.

“Glad you could make it,” I tell him as he plops down next to Hanna. She also gives River a hug. It's an emotional, huggy day, I guess. I give him a head nod. It's the closest thing he'll get to a hug from me. I haven't completely changed.

“Maybe you should say something?” Hanna whispers.

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” I say all formally. “This is the last—actually, it was number one on Grace's Top Five. It's crazy that we actually did everything before the year ended, just like she wanted. Or maybe it wasn't what she really wanted, but it's what we needed. We miss you, Grace. See you at the finish line.”

An announcer tells us to begin lining up at the starting line. Since we aren't really competing, we aren't positioned at the front with the serious runners. We're all kind of somewhere in the middle. Dad and Jenny stand on either side of Fern, holding her hands. Sebastian and Pete are on the other side of me. Sebastian sets his watch.

“Okay, I figure it'll take me thirty minutes, though I'm not in running shape. It's only a 5k. A little over three miles. No problem.” He swings his arms back and forth, as if to psych himself up.

“It's not a competition,” I tell him.

“Everything's a competition. I can at least take Pete.”

“Keep talking,” Pete says. He pulls up his long white-and-blue-striped socks.

River jumps up and down and shakes out his head and his
arms. I wonder if I should do the same thing. If that's what you're supposed to do to warm up or something.

Hanna takes my hand and squeezes it, distracting me from River. I kiss the top of her head, but she takes my face and pulls me in for a quick kiss. I thought my parents might be a little freaked about Hanna and I taking our friendship to another level, but all Jenny said was, “It's about time,” followed by, “Don't blow it.”

I don't plan on it.

“On your mark,” the announcer, standing on top of a ladder, says into a microphone. The whole group gets into a running stance and freezes. “Get set. Go.” He fires a gun.

We surge together like a cresting wave. It takes only a couple of paces for us to separate, with River taking off ahead. My family is somewhere in the back. I've told Hanna I'll stay with her. I can't see Sebastian and Pete, so I don't know if they're in front or behind us. It doesn't matter where they are. I know they're all running with me. It's where they've been all along, right by my side for when I needed them, even when I tried to push everyone away.

I picture Grace running too. She's smiling with her black hair in a high ponytail swinging and bouncing as she runs. She would have loved this: all of us together, united by our love for her.

I match my pace with Hanna's, but she tells me, “Go.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She laughs. “Go,” she says again.

I open my stride, and with each step, I think about how good it feels to run.

Thank you so much to everyone who made this novel possible:

To Joshua Suaverdez, for being my original muse for Mark all those classes ago.

To the following friends for helping me out with the details: Samantha Duke for all her Pepe knowledge, Lovejoy Ontiveros for her insight and willingness to answer random texts at any time, Isabelle Logie for letting me follow her around school, Nate Lawler for his surfing lesson, Wayne Miller for his bass expertise, and Niko Embry for giving me a glimpse into the head of a bass player and future rock star.

To the baristas at Swork, who by now know my order before I even place it.

Thank you to Mom and Michelle for being early readers and for all your support and encouragement.

To Mosaic, my tribe of dreamers, always faith, hope, and love.

To my parents, who still think I'm awesome simply because I'm their daughter. To David and my kids, who are the best sojourners I could ask for.

Thank you to Annette Pollert for being excellent at what you do. You make everything better. Thanks also to the whole team at Simon Pulse.