Small Miracles

“Okay, girls,” Savannah says at lunch the next day. She’s holding court at the head of the table, me at her right side. “First order of business: I need opinions on Nick Kingston.”

“Nick Kingston?” Kate says. “What for?”

“Yesterday, Julianna here finally realized that he likes her and now she’s trying to figure out what to do.”

I half-expect to get dirty looks, because Nick is literally worshipped by the girls at school and yet here I am, stealing their man, but to my surprise, everyone just nods, and Anna even mumbles, “About time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, embarrassed.

“Yes, we all know she’s incredibly dense,” Savannah agrees. “Thoughts, please?”

We all simultaneously turn around and look across the courtyard, where Nick is sitting with a bunch of boys. We watch him for a moment as he listens to a story another boy is telling before he bursts out laughing. When he stops, he notices all of us looking at him. He stares at us for a moment before he waves, a little confused, and we all wave back before turning around.

“He’s the quarterback, for one thing,” Ashley says. “He practically rules the school . . . the town, for that matter.”

“True,” Kate agrees. “He’s tall.”

“He’s got nice eyes,” Anna adds. I nod. There’s something about Nick’s eyes that makes him look like he’s always amused at something. “And he likes everyone.” This is also true. Nick is willing to give the time of day to anybody, no matter who they are.

“What about you, Jules?” Savannah asks. “Your turn.”

I shrug, trying to look nonchalant. “Um . . . I don’t know. He’s funny. I like the way he walks.” I don’t add that he’s nice to my brother and polite to my mom. I don’t say that he gives me rides when he doesn’t have to and likes me when I don’t deserve it.

“You like the way he walks,” Savannah repeats, but a smile grows on her face.

“There have to be some cons, though,” Ashley says, ever the reasonable one. “For one thing, dating the quarterback is bound to be stressful. Everyone will be watching you and bugging you about it.” If anyone is the expert, she is: When we were freshmen, Ashley dated one of the former quarterbacks, a senior, which instantly skyrocketed her popularity.

“True,” Kate agrees. “Other girls will be jealous.”

“Underclassmen,” Anna says, and we all shudder.

“Oo-kay,” Savannah says. “There are probably many more cons. But there always are when dating anybody. And I mean, just look at him.”

We all turn and look at him again. This time, he catches my eye and smiles, mouthing, Hi. I smile back. Savannah nudges me under the table.

“Conclusion: Nick is a total catch and Jules should make her move any day now,” Anna says.

“Anyways,” Savannah says over her, but she’s still smiling. “Second order of business: Halloween.” We all nod vigorously, sobering up. Halloween is next Friday and I still haven’t found a costume. “What are we all wearing?”

“I’m going to be a devil,” Kate says.

“I’m going to be an angel,” Anna adds. The two of them high-five.

“I’ve decided I’m going to be Britney Spears from her ‘Baby One More Time’ video,” Savannah announces.

I snort. “What, like the short skirt and the tied up shirt and the pigtail braids?”

“Exactly,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “So that’s everyone sorted . . . what about you?”

I shrug. “I haven’t gotten the chance to go shopping.”

“Any ideas?”

“No, not really.”

“Why not find out what Nick’s wearing?” Kate suggests slyly. “Then you guys can go as a couple.”

I make a face at her while everyone else laughs. Ashley rolls her eyes and says, “Later in the week you and I can go into Houston and look for costumes.”

“Sounds good,” I agree.

Savannah sticks her tongue out at Ashley, who sticks hers out right back. “Fun ruiner. Now we can’t tease Jules. And I thought you had a costume already?”

“Poor you,” Ashley says carelessly. “I was going to go as a Playboy bunny, but my mother caught wind of it and shut it down.” The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and we all get up and say our goodbyes before heading to class. While I’m walking, someone comes up next to me and bumps me, hard. I’m about to say “excuse me” when I realize who it is.

Nick grins brightly. “Howdy.”

“Hey.”

“Why were you guys looking at me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say innocently, walking into my study hall. He follows me, to my surprise.

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

“Watch your mouth, Kingston,” Mrs. Russell, my study hall teacher, threatens.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, still grinning at me. “C’mon. Why were you looking at me?”

“How do you know we were looking at you?” I say, raising my eyebrows. “It could’ve been Will, or Brady, or Ethan.”

He makes a face. “Why would you be looking at Ethan?”

“I dunno. He’s kind of cute.”

Nick continues to stare at me, looking disgusted, and I give up and start to laugh. “I’m joking. We were just gossiping, you know, girly stuff and all that.”

“Gossiping about me?”

“Maybe. Don’t you have a class to go to?”

“Maybe,” he repeats. “Are you going to Brady’s party on Halloween?”

“I was planning on it, but I have to take James trick-or-treating before.”

His eyes light up. “I’ll come with you.”

“You sure? It’s gonna be . . . tedious.”

“Yeah. I like James. And trick-or-treating. And you.”

I blink, trying not to blush (and failing, as usual). “Well.”

“Well,” he repeats again, still smiling, because Nick just loves to embarrass me.

The bell rings, and Mrs. Russell calls, “Kingston, you’d better not be expecting a pass from me.”

Nick blinks and turns to her. “Sorry, Mrs. Russell, I’ll be leaving momentarily.” He gives her a big, senior-quarterback-golden-boy smile. She looks confused, as though unsure whether to let it slide or keep yelling at him again.

“Oh my God,” I say, shaking my head. “Get out of here.”

“If you insist,” he says, beginning to back up. “Come to the game on Friday?”

“I’ll have to pass on that,” I say with false cheerfulness.

“I had a feeling,” he says, and I’m thankful his voice is still good-natured. “See you around, sunshine.” He shoulders his backpack and leaves. A few girls behind me whistle, but I barely hear them.

▲ ▼ ▲

On Halloween night, I’m in my room, making some final adjustments to my costume. After finding literally nothing at the costume store, which is what I suppose I deserve after waiting this long to try and find one, I decided to go as Minnie Mouse. Ashley was a bit luckier than me, finding a nurse costume that she looks great in, of course.

Whatever. I bought a red polka-dot skirt and found a long-sleeved black shirt and black leggings in my closet. Mom let me borrow a pair of yellow shoes she has, and I also managed to dig up a pair of Minnie Mouse ears I bought in Disney a long time ago.

Mom took the night off from work to answer the door with candy, and I have to take James trick-or-treating soon. He’s going as a cow, for reasons no one really knows.

The doorbell rings as I’m brushing my hair, and then Mom yells, “Julianna, Nick is here!”

“Coming!” I call back. I go downstairs and look into my brother’s room. He’s sitting on the floor, looking in the mirror and mooing at himself. “Hey, bud,” I say, trying not to laugh. “Nick is here. Ready to go get some candy?”

“Yes!” James says excitedly. He stands up and bolts downstairs, leaving me to follow.

By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, Nick is already holding James and admiring his cow costume. He grins when he sees me. “Hi, sunshine. Or should I say Minnie Mouse?”

“Hi . . . baseball player?” I say quizzically. Nick’s wearing the standard baseball uniform with a mitt tucked under his arm and a backwards cap on his head.

“Yeah. It’s funny, ‘cause I play football. Get it?”

“I guess.” At first I think, I have a crush on an idiot and then I feel weird, because I guess I just admitted to myself that I do have a crush on Nick. My stomach twists.

“Keep an eye on your brother, please,” Mom warns as we prepare to leave. “Have him back by eight. Don’t let him get too much candy.”

“Yes ma’am,” I say, trying to usher Nick and James out the door.

“And you, don’t stay out too late tonight. I want you back by one o’clock the latest. And if you’re hungover tomorrow, I will know, and there will be trouble. Understood?”

“Yes, Mom, good God,” I groan, while Nick snickers.

“Have a nice night, Mrs. Carter,” Nick calls as I shove him out the door.

“You’re annoying,” I say, scowling, but he just laughs.

James is completely in his element as we go from house to house. He works the crowd flawlessly, looking extra cute in his costume and even mooing every now and then, making the adults coo and hand him more candy. They all wave to Nick and me when they see us standing on the sidewalk, lips pursed like they know something we don’t.

It’s nearly eight o’clock and James’ bag got so heavy for him that now Nick is carrying it. “Two more houses,” I warn. “Two more and you’re going home.” He’s so tired that he doesn’t even disagree.

We walk up to the next house and James climbs the steps and rings the doorbell. It opens a few minutes later and none other than Coach Taylor is there, holding a bucket of candy. “Well!” he says. “This is a pleasant surprise. I heard the Howe farm is looking for their missing cow, maybe I should tell them I found it?”

James giggles. “No, it’s me! It’s James!” he says.

Coach gets a closer look. “Oh, James Carter! Pardon me. You make a very good cow.” He gives James some candy before squinting into the darkness. “Kingston? Is that you?”

“Yes sir,” Nick says. “How are you?” He goes closer so they can shake hands, and I have no choice but to follow.

“Fine, thanks. You boys ready for practice tomorrow? Bright and early. Gotta get you in shape, especially for the game coming up next week.”

Privately, I think that the team couldn’t possibly get in any more shape, but Nick just nods and says, “Yes, sir, I agree.” I fall back a little as they discuss different positions and plays, and even though I know what all of it means, I still feel out of my element.

“And how’ve you been, Julianna?” Coach asks suddenly.

“I’m fine, sir. How are you?”

“I’ve been good. Real good. I haven’t seen you at the games at all this season.” He’s watching me, and I notice that he’s got the jacket on, the one all the coaches wear. It’s blue, with a black F on it. It fits him better than it ever fit my dad.

“Um, I’ve been working a lot. But sometimes I hear them on the radio,” I say. A lot of the people at the diner like to listen to the games when they can’t be there, so on Fridays, we always keep the radio set on the high school’s station, where we can hear Jason Garrity (a senior, just like me) giving the play-by-play of the action.

“That’s good. How’s your mom?”

“She’s okay. She took the night off, but she’s been working a lot.”

Coach shakes his head. “No one works harder than your mother, but even she’s gonna burn out soon.” The way he says it doesn’t sound unkind, though. Just concerned.

“I suppose,” I say, shrugging.

“Real shame, too. She’s a nice lady.” He doesn’t say anything else, but I can practically see the additional words floating over his head.

I nod, and then a much bigger hand closes around my clenched fist. I don’t look at Nick. It’s not that I dislike Coach Taylor, because I don’t. But I feel like a spring wound too tight all the time, about to break.

“Well,” Coach says. “Say hi to her for me.”

“I will. Have a good night, Coach.”

“You too.”

We start to walk in silence again, until Nick nudges me with his elbow. “Hey. You all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just, uh. Weird, I guess, when people, you know. Indirectly mention him.” Nick lets go of my hand, but continues to walk beside me.

“Well,” he says, and I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, “your dad is a legend around here. First time Sterling got to States in like, fifteen years.”

“I know,” I say, and my voice has a slight edge to it. “God, that’s all everyone seems to say. It’s been drilled into my brain for months now. I get it, all right?”

We stop at the next house, and I watch James eagerly run up the porch steps. I start to follow. “Hey. Julianna, wait.” Nick tugs at my shirt, causing me to stop. “Would you look at me?”

Sighing, I turn around and face him. His eyes are glowing from the streetlights, and he has this small, almost secret smile on his face. “What, Kingston.” My words have no bite. I should be bothered by that, but I’m not.

“You can tell me to shut up any time, you know. About football and stuff. Just say the word and I’ll listen.”

Nick is watching me so earnestly that it makes my head start hurting, and I feel like I’m about to explode. “Why do you care so much?” I say finally.

“What?”

“About me. I’ve never given you any reason to be nice to me and yet you are. Why?”

He shrugs, like it’s obvious, and I’m even more frustrated. “I don’t know. I like you. Does there have to be a reason?”

“Yes!” I’m practically shouting now, but he doesn’t back away. “There does need to be a reason, because you’re – you’re practically it, like, this entire town falls at your feet, you’re like royalty, or something. Why do you care about me?” I’m reminded of the conversation I had with my friends earlier in the week, and it only makes me want to know even more. Nick is the Golden Boy, the star player, and I’m just the former coach’s daughter. It’s like day and night, water and fire. I don’t understand it.

“I –” Nick pauses. “I don’t know. I guess just . . . everyone here acts like I’m some sort of hero. Everybody looks up to me and tells me how cool I am and stuff and . . . you don’t. You treat me like I’m normal, and I think that’s pretty cool. Because that’s what I am. Normal, I mean. And I like spending time with you at work and maybe it’s weird ‘cause football’s kinda my life and I know you hate it but I don’t really mind. I just think you’re cool.” He chews his lip.

James comes back before I can respond and asks, “Can we go home now? I’m tired.”

“Yeah, buddy,” I say. “Let’s go.” So we walk home, and Nick keeps a respectful distance between us this time. Mom is waiting for us on the front porch, and when Nick and I leave, she and James are still sitting on the steps and she’s listening to him chatter while unwrapping one of his Snickers bars.

Nick and I get into his truck and drive to Brady’s house for the party, which is just starting to get going. It’s not even nine o’clock yet and there are guys already stumbling around drunk. I meet up with Savannah, Kate, Anna, and Ashley, compliment them on their costumes, accept the cup of Dr. Pepper and Fireball Ashley hands to me, and then scope out the scene.

I take a sip of the drink and wince. It’s not bad, but Dr. Pepper with anything is never good in my opinion.

The party is like every other party that’s ever been thrown in this town. I’m bored already, so I decide to amuse myself by looking at the pictures around Brady’s house. There’s a few old-looking photos of people whom I assume are Brady’s grandparents and great-aunts and uncles, and a few more modern-looking ones of his parents and him.

I’m laughing at one of Brady himself, circa first grade with a bowl haircut, when Nick comes and sits next to me. “Hello, sunshine,” he says. I raise my eyebrows. That’s a ‘thing’ as of recently, the nickname sunshine. I’ve never considered myself a particularly sunny person, but I find I like it it.

“Hi.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Not having fun.”

“I’m having loads of fun,” I protest. “Look how stupid Brady looks in this picture.”

That gets him to smile. “I remember that haircut. Fucking awful. But anyways, come on. Come mingle.” He takes my hand and pulls me off the couch, leading me into the next room. Savannah and Ashley are standing there, holding drinks and talking, but when they see me, they stop.

“Ladies,” Nick says cheerfully. “I believe she belongs to you?”

“I suppose,” Savannah says, still staring at our joined hands.

“I’ll be back,” Nick says to me. “Brady’s mom bought apple cider doughnuts and I’m determined to find them.”

“Okay,” I agree, and he disappears.

“Where did that come from?” Savannah asks.

“Huh?”

“Now you guys just casually hold hands? That’s a thing?” Ashley says.

“What went down while y’all were trick-or-treating?” Savannah teases.

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Shut up.” The two of them cackle and Savannah flicks one of my mouse ears. I have no idea where Nick’s run off to, but I feel fine chatting with my two best friends. A couple girls stop by every now and then (usually drunk) to compliment our costumes and gossip. I forgot how nice it is to be included in a girl friendship, and I feel equal parts love and guilt for Savannah and Ashley, who waited for me even after I ran away to San Francisco for the summer, didn’t bother to keep in touch, and came back hating the world. Maybe it was justified after what I’d just gone through, but still. I know I wouldn’t have tolerated it for as long as they did. I take Savannah’s hand and squeeze, leaning my head on her shoulder. She looks surprised, as I’m not usually one for public affection.

“How drunk are you?” Savannah asks with a laugh.

“Not drunk,” I say defensively. “I’m just happy.”

“Someone get a camera,” Ashley says sarcastically. “Jules Carter shows emotions other than disgust and confusion.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I say, but I’m grinning.

Suddenly, a voice says, “Hey, Carter.”

I turn and see Ethan Moore standing there, dressed as a gangster, like Al Capone or something. “Hi Ethan,” I say politely. “Happy Halloween.”

“I saw you come in with Kingston. Is that a thing or something?”

I look to Savannah and Ashley for help, but find that they’re waiting for my answer, too. “Um,” I say. “I don’t know. We’re just sort of . . . working things out. You know.”

“Riiiiiiiight,” Ethan nods. “I just thought it was funny because, you know . . .”

“No, I don’t,” I say slowly.

“Well, first Tara, and now you.” Tara Conner was Nick’s girlfriend for a few months in our junior year. They broke up when she and her mom moved to Utah.

“What’s so funny about that?” I say. As soon as I say it, I know I’ve set myself up for some sort of blow.

“Well, Tara’s dad cheated on her mom, and yours walked out on your family . . . seems like Nick’s got a thing for girls with daddy issues, huh?”

Everyone within a five-foot radius turns and stares at him, because he’s said it loud and clear. I’m hurt, but I’m also pissed off. But before I can tell him to go fuck himself, Nick appears literally out of nowhere. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Ethan turns, smirking. “Come on, dude, you know it’s –” Before he can finish his sentence, Nick punches him square in the jaw, sending him reeling backwards. Ashley pulls me to the side so he doesn’t fall on me because I’m too shocked to move. A few girls scream.

“Don’t you ever talk about her like that again,” Nick snarls. “Or Tara, for that matter. You don’t know shit.”

“Nick, stop,” I say, finally gathering my voice. He’s standing over Ethan, looking ready to rip him to shreds, but I grab his hand and drag him out of there. I make him go outside while I say good-bye to my friends and apologize to Brady, who just grins and says, “Nah, are you kidding? That was sick. Make sure Superman didn’t break his hand, though.” He hands me a plastic container full of apple cider doughnuts. “Bring him these, by the way. Tell ‘em they were in my mom’s room.”

“Will do,” I say with a smile. “Thanks, Brady.”

When I go outside, Nick is already sitting in his truck, blasting music with the volume all the way up. I climb in and gently turn it down. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that he’s a fucking douchebag who’s had that coming for a long time,” Nick snaps.

“This is the second time you’ve rushed to defend me from him,” I say. “I don’t need you fighting my battles, okay? I can do it myself.”

He doesn’t answer for a second, and when he finally speaks, his voice is husky. “What he said . . . it’s not true. You know that. It’s fucked up, and I would never, and –”

“I know,” I interrupt him. “It’s okay. How’s your hand?”

He glances at it. “It’s fine.” I reach over and inspect it. Aside from being a little red, it doesn’t look swollen or anything. I take it in my own, and he squeezes after a moment.

“Hey, sunshine,” I say after a moment. He doesn’t look at me, but he does smile a little. “Look what I have.” I offer him the box of doughnuts and he lights up almost instantly.

“Where’d you find them?”

“Brady gave them to me. He said they were in his mom’s room.”

“Fuck. He knows I’d never go in there.” Nick scowls and opens the box, taking out a doughnut and biting it with relish. “Whatever. Victory by default is the best kind anyway.”

It’s only eleven, so Nick and I drive to an empty parking lot and eat doughnuts and listen to the radio, talking and laughing. It doesn’t get uncomfortable at all, and I find that I really am enjoying myself.

Around twelve-thirty, Nick says, “We should probably go home.”

“I don’t have to be home until one.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s better to be early than late.” He puts the truck into Drive and we pull out of the parking lot. We don’t say much until he pulls up in front of my house.

“Well, thanks. For everything. Except punching Ethan.”

He shrugs. “Can’t win ‘em all.” Before I can get out, he asks, “Can I kiss you? Would that be okay?”

And although every single part of me is saying yes yes yes yes yes, I force myself to say lightly, “That would be okay. But not tonight.”

“Not tonight?” Nick says, jutting out his lower lip. “Then when?”

“Another time. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Nick agrees, still pouting. “If you say so.”

“Good night, Nick.”

“Good night, Jules.” He grins at me a little before he drives away.

Mom is still up when I come inside, eating the leftover candy from the bowl and watching some cooking show. “Hey,” she says when I sit down next to her. “How was your night?”

“Eventful,” I say with a shrug, taking a Twix out of the bowl and unwrapping it.

“Did you kiss him?”

“Ma.”

“Is that a yes?”

“No, Ma,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t.”

“Good,” she says, satisfied. “Keep ‘em coming back. I like that.”

“Oh, God,” I moan. She bumps me with her shoulder, but says nothing else. We watch the Food Network and eat candy for a few more hours and all in all, it’s a pretty good Halloween.