Beyond Vica Page 3

  “They sure do,” Sam’s mom agrees. Her eyes glitter.

  I roll my eyes. “Mom, I stopped being adorable in kindergarten.”

  “You’ll always be adorable to me, sweetheart.” Mom snaps a picture, followed by another snap from Marie’s camera. Spots float across the room as I try to adjust my eyes from the assault of the flashes.

  “Mom, we need to go,” Sam pleads.

  “Okay. Just one more picture. Julie, will you take a picture of Sam and me?” Marie hands my mom her camera.

  “Sure.” My mom accepts the camera. Sam places his arm around Marie’s shoulder. She slips her arm around his waist. He’s an inch taller than his mom. Although his features are dark like his dad’s, there is no denying Marie is his mother. Their lips curve the exact same way when they smile.

  *****

  I feel the vibration of the music as Sam and I walk arm in arm up the sidewalk toward the gym doors. Sam lets his arm fall just before we reach the entrance. He finds my hand, and joins our fingers. I look up at him and smile. His eyes are locked on mine. “If I forget to tell you later, thanks for being the best friend anyone could ask for,” he says.

  My throat is so swollen with emotion that I can’t speak. I nod, lift my face to his, and brush a kiss over his cheek. I rest my forehead against his shoulder, not speaking. I wish I could capture this moment in a glass jar and hold onto it. I’d keep it on the shelf in my room with my basketball trophies and treasure it forever. He rubs his hands over my shoulders.

  “Here they are! Brody, over here!” Rachel shrieks, racing out the gym doors. Tight curls layer her long blond hair. Brody follows her. He stops and looks from me to Sam before he speaks. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I clear the lump from my throat and smile. “Doesn’t Sam look great?”

  “Bro! Look at you,” Brody agrees and looks him over. They fist-bump.

  “Oh, you two look so sweet!” Rachel hugs Sam and grabs my hand like we’re her best friends. She tugs my hand. “Come on! Everybody has been waiting."

  “Waiting for what?” I ask and plead to Brody with my eyes to save me from his date. He just shrugs and smiles.

  “Our spring dance king and queen have just arrived,” announces the DJ as we enter the gym. I look around. Does he mean Rachel and Brody? “Give it up for Sam Johnson and Gabby Martin.”

  Oh, crap.

  Applause erupts. Before I can process what is happening, Sam and I are rushed up front and a tiara is placed on my head. A blinding light shines in my face. I raise my hand and attempt to block its assault on my eyes.

  Rachel is squealing with delight beside me. Her voice radiates through the gym. “I have an announcement to make.” Where did she get a microphone? I feel as if I’ve been ambushed.

  She continues, “All the money raised from the dance tonight is being donated to Sam and his family.” She jumps up and down. Seriously? I have the sudden urge to whack her with my cast to calm her down.

  The whole gym roars with applause and chants of “We love you, Sam.” I manage to get a glimpse of Sam’s face even though the light hasn’t let up its attack on my eyes. His smile is so wide that it touches his eyes. It also touches my heart.

  Chants of “Dance! Dance! Dance!” fill the gym now. Sam and I are ushered to the center of the gym floor with the crowd surrounding us. The DJ plays a slow song. Sam pulls me close and I raise my good arm over his shoulder and rest my injured arm on his chest. We sway to the music. I scan the faces watching us. There isn’t one person who doesn’t have a smile. I take that back. My eyes rest on Brody. His expression is very serious, his eyes rimmed in red. They don’t leave mine. We lock eyes for long time and then a new song starts.

  We are no longer the only two dancing. Couples surround us are slow-dancing, including Rachel and Brody.

  I keep focused on Sam. He’s having such good time. “I feel like I’m with a celebrity,” I remark, gazing into his face. His grin grows. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him so happy.

  “Is it okay if I dance with Sam?” Rachel shouts at me above the music. She hangs onto Brody and leans toward me so I can hear her.

  “Umm, sure,” I mutter and drop my hands. I watch her fasten her arms around Sam’s neck. She’s telling him something, but I can’t hear over the music. Sam nods his head at whatever she’s saying.

  “Gabs!” Brody’s voice is right in my ear, causing me to jump.

  “What?” I screech. He’s laughing at me. I’m glad I amuse him so much.

  “You are so jumpy. Do you want to dance?” He takes my hand and pulls me close, not waiting for answer.

  I breathe in the woodsy smell of his cologne. His skin color reminds me of the soft caramels my mom makes at Christmas. It’s so wrong to be crushing on one of your best friends. What’s wrong with me? I need a distraction.

  “Sam is so happy tonight,” I say in his ear.

  “Yeah, I got choked up earlier watching him.” His comment warms my heart, and then he says, “It was all Rachel’s idea to arrange the money thing. She talked to the upperclassmen, since the money raised usually goes to a charity of the senior class members' choice. She thought it would be nice to for Sam’s family to have it to help with medical expenses or whatever.”

  My body tenses. I don’t trust her. Is she being nice to Sam or using him to get at Brody? Brody must have felt my body stiffen because he asks me if something is wrong.

  I’m ready to unleash my feelings about Rachel when I’m bumped from behind and fall into Brody. I turn around to see Locker Boy. His eyes widen when he realizes it’s me he bumped into. He rushes away like I’m going to attack him or something.

  “I don’t get what Locker Boy’s problem is,” I hiss. Brody looks down at me with a huge grin on his face that pops his dimples. I have to hold myself back from touching them.

  “He’s been afraid of you since we were in fourth grade,” he says matter-of-factly, as if I should know this.

  I draw my eyebrows together. I thought he just moved in this year. “Fourth grade?”

  “Yeah, don’t you remember? He was making fun of Sam, calling him Space Alien because Sam spent so much time reading books about space and the stars. You found out and stuck a sign on his back that said, ‘I eat boogers.’ He wore it most of the day before one of the teachers saw it and took it off.”

  My mouth drops open. “That’s Tyler Brown? It doesn’t even look like him.”

  Brody chuckles. “You told him that was just the beginning of what you had planned for him if he didn’t lay off Sam.”

  “No way! No wonder he freaked when I ran into his locker.”

  “Nobody can mess with your Sam.” Brody shakes his head then looks down at me with a sideways grin. “You looked like you wanted to claw out Rachel’s eyes a minute ago. She’s not going eat Sam. She just wants to ask him what student council could do to help when he returns to school, since she’s president.”

  “I did not look like I wanted to claw her eyes out!” Okay, I did think about it, but I had no idea that it showed. What he said bothers me. “I don’t act like Sam is mine,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

  Brody laughs. “Yeah. Okay. Keep telling yourself that, Gabs.”

  I shove off of his chest and step back. He ticked me off. He’s still grinning at me, which ticks me off even more. I open my mouth to tell him to go to…somewhere, when Rachel swoops in and steals him away to join the line that forms to do the cupid dance.

  Sam finds me and takes my hand. “Let’s get something to drink.” My throat is so dry that I gladly follow him to the punch. Sam hands me a cup. We both sit down on white folding chairs lining the gym floor. I gulp down the red liquid and look at Sam. His eyes are on the dance floor. I need to ask him something before I lose the nerve.

  I take a deep breath and blurt it out. “Do you ever feel like I’m too controlling?”

  Sam’s eyes shift from the dancers to me. His eyebrows crease. “What do you mean?”

&n
bsp; I lick my lips, which are suddenly dry again. “Do you think I act like…you’re mine?”

  “Sometimes.” He shrugs. My heart sinks. “You’re like an overprotective sister.”

  I hang my head, unable to look at him. I never thought much about it before now, but there was something in the way Brody talked tonight. Like it was common knowledge that Sam was “mine.”

  Sam’s fingers lift my chin. He looks right into my face. “It’s okay, Gabs. That’s how we are. Brother and sister. We look out for each other.” He scoots his chair closer to mine and puts his arm is around me. I rest my head on his shoulder. My eyes take in all the dancers and come to rest on just one: Brody. I let out a sigh. He was right about me with Sam. I’ll never admit it to him, though.

  “The next song is a special request. It’s by Lee Ann Womack, ‘I Hope You Dance,’” the DJ announces. The words of the song begin, and I feel like the room is closing in on me. I’ve got to get out of here before the memories come.

  “I gotta go the bathroom.” I don’t wait for Sam to answer, and I take off. But I don’t go to the restroom. I slip out of the gym and into the hallway.

  I press my back against a locker, squeeze my eyes shut, and try to stop the memory that threatens to crash down on me. It’s no use. The music is so loud it follows me into the hall. I’m helpless to stop it. The trigger has been pulled.

  Daddy’s head rested on the steering wheel. He wasn’t moving. My heart beat fast. It was so scary when the car spun around. The spinning finally stopped when the car hit a tree. I undid my seatbelt and crawled into the front seat. Daddy’s eyes were open. Why wasn’t he talking? I tried to shake him. “Daddy!” He didn’t answer. There was a lot of blood on his head. I put my arm around his shoulder and lay my head on his back. I sang our song. “I hope you dance…”

  I feel someone touch my arm. My eyes fly open. It’s Brody. His eyebrows are drawn together as he studies my face. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft.

  My heart hammers in my chest. I swallow hard and nod.

  “What happened? I saw you leave the gym. You looked upset. You know I was just teasing you about Sam.” He searches my face.

  “It’s not that.” I shake my head. The thing is, I never talk about the car crash. I’ve never told anyone about it, not even my mom. She cried so much the year my dad died that I didn’t want to hurt her any more. I can’t talk to Sam about it. He doesn’t need to deal with the memories that haunt me. I have held them inside so long. It’s like they don’t want to be ignored anymore.

  “Gabs?” Brody runs his hand along my arm. “What is it?”

  I let it pour out, helpless to stop it any longer. “My dad used to sing that song to me. He said that it was our song.”

  “Oh.” Brody continues to rub my arm not taking his eyes from mine. “I’m sorry.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not all. After the crash, I crawled into the front seat and sang him that song. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t talk to me when his eyes were open. I thought that if I sang our song, he would sing with me.” I wrap my arms around my middle and squeeze. I feel like if I don’t hold myself together, I will crumble into a million pieces.

  “Aww, man. That sucks.” He puts his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. I rest the side of my face on his chest, and l slip my hands around his waist. “I had no idea that happened,” he whispers and strokes my hair.

  We don’t move or say anything else for the next couple of minutes. It’s just what I need. I concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest under my face. The rhythm of his heart beneath my ear soothes me, pulling me back together. Then I remember where I am and why I’m here. Sam! I pull back and look into his face. “I better get back before Sam gets worried.”

  Brody is on my heels when we walk into the gym. He grasps my hand and gives it squeeze before he winks at me and is swept away by Rachel.

  Chapter Eight

  Sadie rubs against my bare legs, meowing. “Hold on! Hold on!” I open a can of ocean fish gourmet and spoon it into her paw-shaped bowl. She nearly knocks the bowl from my hand as I put it on the floor. “For Pete's sake, you’d think I never feed you, Chubby.”

  It’s almost noon and I’m still in my PJs. After I fix a nutty-chocolate spread sandwich, I pour a glass of orange juice and sit on a kitchen bar stool. Sadie continues to gobble down her food. I pull up my social network on my mobile while I eat. A picture of Sam and me at the dance pops up. I uploaded it after the dance two weeks ago as my new profile picture.

  Sam was ready to leave the dance as soon I got back into the gym after my breakdown in the hall. He was tired. It took a lot out of him. He spent two days in bed to recoup. He says he’s ready to try a couple of hours a day at school, though. So on Monday he’ll be in math class with me again. I can’t wait. I also get my cast off this week. Life is turning around.

  I’m trying harder when it comes to Sam to give Rachel and other people the benefit of the doubt. Everyone at school seems to care about him. It’s always been just us, so it’s not easy to let others in. My friendship with Brody has taken on a new level since the dance. He’s the one person I let into a part of me that I’d kept closed before.

  What I’m having the most trouble sorting out are these sudden “feelings” for Brody that have snuck up on me. I’ve become one of those girls I’ve always complained about when it comes to Brody. I feel like I have a secret I can’t tell anyone, especially Sam. I’m afraid I’ll ruin our friendship if either of them finds out. I need my basketball.

  I throw my hair up in a messy bun and exchange my PJ shorts for athletic pants. My high-tops and my basketball are still packed in my bag because I never got to play in the tournament. I pull them out.

  All set, I head out into the driveway and pound the ball with my good arm. Hook shot. Yes! It’s good to be out here on my own court. I’ve missed this.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Mom’s car coming down the road. I wonder what she’s doing. She’s supposed to be at the flower shop today. I run to the end of the drive to meet her as she pulls in. She rolls her window down.

  “Honey, Sam’s mom has been trying to get a hold of you.” My heart skips. Mom says, “She needs you to watch Sarah. Sam has developed a fever so they need to take him to the hospital. She said it’s standard procedure since his immunity is so low.”

  “Let me grab my phone,” I say before running into the house.

  I call Sam’s mom. “Hi, Marie? I’m on my way. I’m sorry I missed your calls. I didn’t have my phone on me…You’re welcome. I’ll be there in two minutes.” I hang up.

  ****

  “What do you want to do?” I ask Sarah. Her eyes are red from crying. Sam and his dad were already gone by the time I got to his house. His mom is meeting them at the hospital.

  Sarah doesn’t answer. Through the living room window, she stares at the empty road. Her eyes don’t leave the spot on the road where she last saw her mom’s car, as if she can make the car reappear with her gaze. Think, Gabby. What did I like to do when I was five years old? That’s how old I was when my dad died. We used to play Candy Land before the crash. It was a game with a happy place. After he died, I pretended to visit there and meet my dad in the lollipop forest. That’s it!

  “Sarah, would you like to walk to my house to get something?” I kneel beside her and talk softly. She turns her face so her big brown eyes gaze into mine and nods her head. “I know something we can do for Sam. It’s a surprise.”

  A smile appears on her face for the first time since her mom left.

  ****

  Sarah and I sit face to face on Sam’s bed. Glow-in-the-dark stars are scattered on the bedspread in the space between us. “Let’s sort them into groups of small, medium, and large,” I say.

  “Okay.” She sorts the stars, wearing a big smile. I’ve had these leftover stars in my craft drawer at home for a year now. I used them to decorate my tri-fold for a science project when I was in eighth grade. “Done
!” Sarah announces.

  “Now we need to put them on the ceiling to create Sam’s happy place. When he lies in bed, he can gaze at the constellations. That will make him happy,” I explain to Sarah, who now bounces on her bottom.

  “Find the biggest star. We’ll use that one as Spica,” I say.

  “Here it is!” She stands up with the star in her hand and almost falls over. Her legs look like spaghetti noodles as she tries to balance on the bed. I catch her and we both fall onto the stars, giggling.

  A male voice interrupts: “Hey! What’s going on in here?”

  “Brody!” Sarah leaps off the bed and into Brody’s arms, making him stumble backward. I texted him earlier, telling him that Sam was in the hospital. Sarah’s legs wrap around Brody’s waist and her arms around his neck.

  “We are making the ceiling happy for Sam,” she informs Brody. He raises an eyebrow and looks at me with those hot, gray eyes that could melt a snowman in the Arctic.

  I hop off the bed. I’m suddenly aware that I have no makeup on and my hair is thrown on top of my head. My cheeks feel warmed from Brody’s eyes, so at least they have some color. “We’re going to make Vica on the ceiling and branch out from there with what stars I have. We wanted to make a happy place for him when he gets home,” I said.

  “That’s a great idea,” Brody says and puts Sarah on her feet. He kneels down. “Climb onto my shoulders, and I’ll hold you up so you can reach the ceiling,” he orders Sarah, who climbs up his back and onto his shoulders. I hand her a star and tell them both where to place it.

  When the last star is placed, Brody turns his back toward the bed and drops Sarah onto it. She erupts into giggles as she bounces.

  “Looks good, guys.” I admire our work above. “We’ll come back in when it’s dark to see if the stars glow.” I reach over and ruffle Sarah’s brown curls.

  “I’m hungry.” She jumps off the bed and tugs my hand to lead me downstairs. Brody follows us down the creaky steps and into the kitchen.