Autumn-
“So,” Mia says, after we’re both tucked into our beds with the lights out. “Time to spill.”
“What?” I shift onto my right side, facing her.
I can’t see her roll her eyes, but I know Mia well enough.
“Don’t you “what” me. I know something’s up with you and Adam. Y’all talked for a bajillion minutes and kept goofy–grinning at each other. And he took forever saying goodnight! Also, ya know, the fact that he even said goodnight.”
Heat sparks across my face. “It’s nothing,” I say, but even I can hear the smile in my voice.
“Mmhmm.”
“He just asked if I could show him around town tomorrow.”
“AH!” Mia throws her pillow at me, squealing. “It’s a DATE!”
“No! We’re just biking to town tomorrow!”
“So, like a date.”
“No, not like a date.”
“You’re spending the whole day together, correct?”
“Well, I mean, technically not the whole day…”
“And just the two of you?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“So it’s a date!” Mia concludes. She claps her hands and squeals again.
“AMELIA, KEEP IT DOWN!” Mr. Camden’s voice says.
“SORRY!” she says, not keeping it down at all. But then she lowers her voice and chants, “Autumn has a daaaate! Autumn has a daaaate!”
“Ugh, Mia!” I pull my blankets over my face.
“Okay, okay,” her voice sombers. “But in all seriousness...can I help you get ready in the morning? For your not–date?”
I laugh and move my blankets. “Sure. As long as you promise not to tell anybody, okay? This is a friendly outing. That’s all.”
“Whatever you say. But yes, you have my word.”
“Thank you,” I say through a yawn.
Mia echoes my yawn. “Guess I’ll catch some z’s.”
“Me too.”
“Hey, Autumn?”
“Hmm?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I’m gearing up for some huge speech on how we’re like sisters, or how she wants me to know I’m her best friend. I even prepare myself for her to tell me that she has a life-changing question to ask.
“Are you sure it’s not a date?”
“Go to sleep, Mia!”
••••••••••••••••
I feel like I’m Barbie.
Mia has gone through all of my clothes and took fifteen minutes to decide between an orange shirt or a periwinkle one for me. After deciding on periwinkle, she then proceeded to lend me a pair of her jeans that have lavender and navy colored embroidered flowers down the sides. She had a lot of fun experimenting with the straightening iron on my hair and she even let me borrow some small silver hoop earrings and a long, matching necklace. The faintest touch of lip gloss is brushed across my lips, giving them a rosebud sheen. And even I have to admit, I look like a model. Mia did one heck of a job. But then…Then I look at my leg.
And I remember the bikes. I forgot I can’t bike.
“Adam will probably let you sit behind him,” Mia says dismissively when I express my concern.
“But that’s so awkward!”
“Not really,” Mia scrutinizes my reflection. “Just tell him.”
“Ugh, fine!”
I glance at Mia’s alarm clock. Ten–thirty.
Half an hour to go.
A long thirty minutes goes by and then—finally—Mia’s bloody murder scream has me on my feet, gripping my crutch.
“HE’S HEEERRRREEE!!” she squeals.
I grin and let Mia help me to the door. “Remember,” she whispers urgently. “I want to hear every. Single. Detail. Leave nothing out!”
“Okay, okay,” I laugh. “I promise.”
She claps her hands. “I’m holding you to that.”
I take a deep calming breath, and open the door. Adam stands outside with a bike. He’s wearing jeans and a red sweatshirt. He offers me a somewhat nervous smile.
“Hi,” he says, taking me in.
“Hi,” I say back, hoping nothing will be awkward.
My wish is denied as Mia says, “Go get on his bike, Autumn.”
Adam shoots me a confused look. I stare at my feet as I mumble, “I forgot that I can’t bike. Sorry. We don’t have to do this—”
He cuts me off. “We’re doing it. Here, I’ll help you.”
Finding a good position takes awhile but eventually we manage. My arms are wrapped around Adam with my crutch resting horizontal in my lap. Mia watches from the doorway and wiggles her eyebrows at me every time we make eye contact. I stick my tongue out at her.
“Okay,” Adam places his foot on the pedal. “All ready back there?”
“Yes.”
As we pedal away, I hear Mia obnoxiously yell, “SAVE ROOM FOR JESUS ON THAT BIKE, YOU TWO!”
“Oh gosh,” I mutter, heat flaming in my cheeks.
To my surprise, Adam laughs. “You must’ve had a fun morning.”
“You have no idea.”
We pass by house after house, neighborhood after neighborhood, and I direct him to the way of East Creek Town Square.
“We can do the park later,” I decide. “It’s really nice when the fireflies come out.”
We finally make it to the Town Square and Adam locks his bike to a bike rack. Then, he helps me off and waits until I’m stable before he begins to walk.
“Where to first?” he asks.
I look around, debating silently. “How do you feel about a smoothie?”
“Love ‘em,” he replies.
I lead him to Banana Cabana and a little bell jingles when we walk inside. Adam orders Mango Mix and I get Strawberry Swirl. I see him begin to pull his wallet out, so I beat him to it and give the cashier seven dollars. Rolling his eyes, Adam says, “The next one’s on me.”
We walk out of Banana Cabana with our smoothies. For awhile we just walk around, joking and laughing with each other. Then we both sit on the edge of a fountain, slurping smoothie and tossing pennies into the water.
Adam shivers. “It’s a little cold out here.”
I grin. “You think this is cold? It’s the last day of November in Texas. This is paradise.”
An older couple walk by us. They have a poodle on a leash who barks at Adam and me. That gives me an idea.
“You have to come with me,” I say excitedly. “I know another place we need to go!”
Adam smiles and follows me into the pet store. When he sees the varieties of cats, dogs, mice, fish, hamsters, snakes, and birds, his eyes get all big.
“Whoa,” he breathes.
I wink. “Better pet store than any you got back in Canada, huh?”
“For sure,” he rolls his eyes. “What’s the best animal?”
“Over here.” I point to the clear cage in the corner where a silvery ferret gobbles up Ferret–Chow. “I’ve wanted this ferret since I was twelve.”
“It’s still here?”
“Well...I kinda reserved it. Without my parents knowing. They’ll hold it for me until I’m ready to buy it. My parents would never let me have her.” I bend down to smile at the ferret, which I’ve named Her Royal Highness Titania Flurrytail Romanov-Rodriguez Hathaway. Or, if you’re lazy, Flurry.
“What pet would you choose out of these?” I ask Adam.
He scans over the numerous cages and pens before leading me to the fattest beta fish I’ve EVER seen. I kid you not. It has bulging frog eyes that look kind of glazed and are actually really scary looking. And one sharp tooth protrudes from a terrible underbite. The ugly little thing moves about one millimeter an hour and is alone in its tank.
“This one!” Adam concludes.
I glance over to see if he’s messing with me. “You’re joking, right?”
“No.”
“This thing looks like it might kill you in your sleep. Or maybe bump into too many walls and concuss itself.”
“Nah, he just needs a friend. What should I name him?”
“Fillet.”
“Autumn!”
“Okay! Okay! That was a joke.”
Adam doesn’t look convinced. “I think I’ll call him Reginald.”
When I meet his eyes, I can’t help it—I burst out laughing so hard my sides cramp up. Adam joins my fit of laughter. Soon, the manager has to ask us to leave because we are being disruptive.
We go back to the fountain, still breathless, and I pull out my Polaroid Camera from my backpack.
“Smile,” I say, my cheeks hurting from smiling so much.
Adam presses his face close to mine and I snap a picture.
While I wait for it to develop, I toss my empty smoothie cup into the garbage can. So far, today has been incredible.
“You know,” I begin, as we both sit on the edge of the fountain. “For a Canadian, I’ve never once heard you say “eh”.”
Adam place his hand in the fountain water and flicks it at me. “Very funny. For the record, Texan, I haven’t heard a single “ain’t” from you.”
“Fair enough.” I flick water back at him.
Suddenly, a loud growl startles both of us. Sheepishly, Adam clamps a hand over his stomach. “Quiet down in there.”
I laugh. “Let’s go get some lunch. This time you pick.”
Adam points to Carlos de Cruz’s Tacos. “How’s their food?”
“Excellent,” I reply. “Good choice.”
I can taste chips and queso already.
••••••••••••••••
The waitress who seated us is not the same one who brings out our food.
This new one comes out looking all professional, with two trays—one on each hand. After setting Adam’s jalapeno and queso enchilada in front of him, she turns to me with my chicken taco. When she meets my eyes, she pales and drops the plate. I gasp as the sound of shattering glass and splatting queso fill the room, and then bend to help her pick it up. But her voice stops me.
“It’s you!”
I look up, confused. “I’m sorry?”
Quickly, she pulls out her phone, but I catch her sneak a look at my leg. After tapping the screen a few times, she turns her phone to show me a Facebook page of some girl I recognize from Speech and Debate class at Apple Ridge. Valeria Barelloni. The most recent post has a picture of a crying girl holding onto a boy who’s carrying her. I recognize the cafeteria. And the girl has her pant leg pulled up to reveal a hideous scar running down her leg. My eyes blur with tears; so many tears that I can’t even see the caption.
Although maybe that’s a good thing.
I feel Adam touch my kneecap under the table. The kneecap of my injured leg.
“You better go get her some more food,” he tells the waitress coldly, indicating the mess of glass, queso, tortilla, and chicken on the floor.
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Normal señoritas we will serve. Sí. But not this kind.” she points to my leg. “Not ones cursed by diablos.”
“She’s not cursed!” Adam’s voice shakes with rage. “You know what? We’re just going to leave.”
“Señor, you have to pay for that!”
Adam slams a twenty dollar bill on the table, causing several other people to pause their eating and watch us. Adam hands me my crutch and keeps one arm around my shoulders as we leave.
I’m never eating at Carlos de Cruz’s Tacos again.
Though I guess I’m not really allowed to.
They don’t serve my kind.
Adam helps me to where his bike his and helps me sit on the seat, balancing the bike against the rack. He sits on the pavement in front of me and takes both of my hands, holding them warmly in his own.
“Look at me,” he urges.
But I can’t do that. I’m too afraid of what I’ll see in those hazel depths. Disappointment? Rejection? Pity?
Those are things that I don’t think I can handle.
“Autumn, don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, okay? None of them do. They don’t even know you. They don’t get to say those things before getting to actually spend time with you.”
“Yes they do.”
“No, they don’t.”
But they’re right! I want to scream at him. I’m not normal!
Adam sighs. “It’s almost four. I guess I should take you home. We can do the park another day.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he squeezes my hands. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”
I firmly shake my hand.
We bike for a little bit, and slowly the sky begins to darken. By the time we’re back in the Camden;s neighborhood, it’s almost completely dark. I can feel the deep breaths Adam keeps taking; my hands move with every single one.
“I think you’re amazing,” he whispers.
I tighten my hold around him. “You...what?”
“I think you’re amazing,” he repeats, his voice sounding a little bolder. “And you’re funny and brave and kind and beautiful.”
What the heck? I never thought I was any of those things.
“But my leg,” I protest. Surely he understands that I can’t be those things when I’m ruined. When my family is just as broken as I am.
Adam pulls over to the curb and kicks down the bike stand. Then he gets off and squats down in front of me. Pulling the bike sideways so that I have to grip his shoulders to keep myself up, he looks right at me. It’s almost like he can see inside of me—all my hopes, dreams, fears, and worries.
“Your leg doesn’t make you any less of those things. And neither does your family,” he says firmly.
“How can it not?” I demand, finally locking his gaze. “How someone have those flaws and still be amazing? Normal people amazing, Adam! I’m not...normal.”
“I’m not either,” he says.
“How?” I challenge.
But he just shakes his head. “I’m going to make you believe me. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“You’ll be at it for a long time.”
“I don’t care,” he gives me a daring smile, but his eyes still radiate hazel compassion and devotion. “I’m gonna make you see how amazing you truly are. And funny, and kind, and brave, and beautiful. Despite the injured leg and broken family.”
I open my mouth to protest again, but he silences it with a hand squeeze. “You’ll see.”
And that’s what he tells me again as he walks me to the Camden’s front door. He just holds onto my hands and whispers, “You’ll see.”
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