It also reminded me of how so many things had changed. Marty had moved out, and someday I would too. We weren't foolish little kids anymore, pulling off grasshopper legs. I sighed. It was almost depressing to think about growing up. But then I spotted what looked like a notebook stuck under a shoebox. More determined than ever to preserve my memories of fair youth, I shoved the clothes aside and peered over them to get a look at what was on his closet shelf. Sure enough, there was a plain, three-holed notebook wedged under everything.
134
The Stillburrow Crush
by Linda Kage
I tugged on it, trying to shimmy it out from under the shoebox. But when I pulled it free the shoebox came as well. My fingers clamped desperately around the notebook as the contents of the box that had been on top of it spilled out and onto me. I ducked, wrapping my hands over my head to cushion the blow. Objects fell around me, bumping and scraping against my arms and fingers before crashing in a heap at my feet. The notebook had acted as an umbrella throughout the ordeal, protecting my noggin from harm. I stood there, half paralyzed for a second, until everything settled on the carpet. Then I checked myself for damages. I fared the collision OK. There were a few stinging scrapes on my arms, but the skin wasn't bleeding or broken. I looked at the floor. The shoebox, empty now, lay propped against my shoe, and old fireworks littered the floor around my feet. I bent down and picked up a bundle of sparklers and a string of cracker jacks fell from my hair, landing on a stick of roman candles.
For a moment, I could only stare. There were fireworks everywhere.
I wondered how old they were and if they were still good. Marty loved the Fourth of July. It was the only time of year he didn't get into trouble for blowing something up. And he always went crazy buying every kind of firework he could find. I swear he used to save his money all year just for the Fourth of July. I had to admit I loved the season too. I don't think I had one bad memory of Independence Day. Maybe it was the hot summer sun, the smell of freshly cut grass, the taste of homemade ice cream, or the fact that I didn't have to 135
The Stillburrow Crush
by Linda Kage
worry about school. It was just one of those holidays where nothing went wrong.
I started to pick everything up, thinking of one year when just Mom, Dad, Marty and I drove out into the country and celebrated the Fourth. Mom packed a picnic and Dad spread out an old blanket for us all to sit on. I'd never seen Marty have so much fun entertaining us with his fireworks display. I settled on Mom's lap and tried hard to stay awake and see every explosion. I wanted to keep the night alive because I never remembered my mom smiling so much. She never let me sit on her lap during church when I got tired. She used to say it made the family look like bunch of monkeys crawling on each other. So I would just inch past her and settle myself on Dad's lap. But that night, where no one else could see us, I was allowed to curl myself into her lap. She ran her hands through my hair, and her laughter vibrated through me like a soothing rocking chair. And it cradled me right to sleep. When I woke up the morning after, I thought it had all been a dream: a sweet, lovely dream.
I set the last bottle rocket in the shoebox and stood up. I was sliding the box back onto the shelf when the idea hit me. That Fourth of July had been the exact kind of memory I wanted to put in my journal. I paused in my task, thinking about it, already planning. The memory was so fresh in my mind I swore I could still taste the watermelon we'd eaten that night.
It had to be written about. It had to be immortalized and kept precious forever in words—beautiful, flowing words. And with that thought, I made up my mind.
136
The Stillburrow Crush
by Linda Kage
When I left Marty's room, I had the notebook plus a shoebox full of fireworks tucked under my arm. And I had a plan in my head. It seemed like such a good idea, I acted before I even thought it completely through. I tossed the box on my bed as soon as I hit my room and I instantly looked up Luke's phone number. It wasn't until after I dialed that I panicked. I started to think about the flaws in my plan. What was I doing, involving Luke Carter in my idea?
I'd never even called him before. And we hadn't exactly been on the best of terms lately.
Since the kiss in his car, we'd ignored each other in school and he hadn't come over to tutor me. Not that I felt I needed tutoring anymore. I actually understood what Under-the-hill was teaching in class these days and I knew I was doing better. But the situation between Luke and me was ridiculous. We acted as if we were complete strangers, as if we'd never talked to each other, as if he'd never come to my home and showed me how to make a true after-school snack, as if he'd never kissed me.
There was one time at lunch when I'd glanced up and caught him staring at me from across the cafeteria. I paused and stared back because his look puzzled me. He was scowling, yet he didn't look mad. He looked...I don't know, like he was disappointed or something. And then his friend, Nathan, caught him and turned to see whom Luke was watching. When Nathan saw me, he said something to Luke I couldn't hear. Luke looked away then and shook his head. His lips barely moved as he gave Nathan some kind of reply. I had no idea what Luke's response was, but it had Nathan 137
The Stillburrow Crush
by Linda Kage
turning back to gape at me. He pointed a finger in my direction and it looked like he said, "Her? Are you sure?" And Luke only nodded with his head bent low.
I was still thinking about that when the first ring echoed in my ear. My hand started to shake. What was I doing? I'd gotten some stupid idea after seeing those fireworks and now I was acting before thinking. I had no idea what I was going to say to him when he answered. And what if his mom or dad picked up? I knew I wasn't ready to talk to a Carter parent yet, so I decided to disconnect.
But then Luke's voice said, "Hello?" I couldn't speak at first. My heart was thumping too madly and I had to calm myself. Luke said hello again. And I bit my lip after taking a huge lungful of air.
"Hey, Lucas," I said.
He paused and I swore it was to check his caller ID. Then he said, "Carrie?" He sucked in a breath. "What're you doing?" If the bewilderment I heard in his voice was genuine, the boy was clueless. I could almost see him glancing out his window to check if the sky had turned orange and the ground was purple.
"Hello?" he said again. "Carrie?" My heart leapt. A battle inside me began. I was tempted to hang up and forget about my crazy scheme. But I wanted to see him again. I didn't want to make a fool of myself over him, but I hadn't shaken off my impulsive frame of mind yet.
"I'm still here," I said, and sat down on the corner of my unmade bed.
138
The Stillburrow Crush
by Linda Kage
He waited for me to go on but when I said nothing, he hesitantly asked, "Do you need some help with trig?" I shook my head, though he couldn't see it. "No," I said.
"OK." I could picture him shaking his own head, trying to clear it. "Then...what's going on?" I gulped in a lungful of air. "Could you meet me tonight on the corner of Oak and Adams with your car?" He lived near there and Oak Street trailed off into the country toward the lake. We could drive out somewhere and set off the fireworks.
"Why?" I heard him say.
"I'll let you know when we get there." My stomach was churning. What was I doing? He was going to say no. Of course, he was going to say no. "How about seven," I said.