On the Fence
Page 39He 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.
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
Camp 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.”
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?”
“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?”