Status: work in progress
Small Miracles
three
On Saturday morning, I wake up with my head throbbing for no real reason at all, considering I didn't drink last night. Glancing at my clock, I groan. It's only 7 am, much too early for me to be awake right now. I know I won't go back to sleep now, though, so I decide to go for a walk.
Mom is still asleep. She works late all week and weekends are her only time off, so any time she gets to rest, she takes it. The head waitress, Georgia, runs everything when she's not there. James won't be up for a few more hours, either.
I decide to walk to the diner and get a bagel or something. I leave a note, gone to get breakfast, back soon, love J before heading out. Although it's early, the sun is already beating down hot on my back. I look longingly at all the cars driving by. I've got my license, but Mom needs the car so she can go back and forth from work. Dad took the other one with him when he left.
Suddenly, like magic, a car pulls up beside me and the window rolls down. Savannah Powell is sitting in the driver's seat, her sunglasses on, smiling at me. "Hey, stranger," she calls.
"Hey," I say back, lifting my hand to wave.
"Need a ride?"
"No, thanks," I answer, even though it's obvious I'm sweating like crazy.
"You sure? Where you heading?"
I think about lying for a second, but I know that's wrong because she's only trying to be nice. "Uh, just to the diner to get some breakfast."
"Perfect! Hop in," she chirps. "I'm goin' there too."
"Savannah," I try to say, but she cuts me off.
"Look, Julianna, I'm tryin' to do a nice thing for you, and you can either accept it and get in this nice, cool car or you can stay your stubborn self and walk the rest of the way in this heat. Your choice."
So I hop in, a little reluctantly. As we start driving again, I ask, "What's the occasion?"
She stops at a stop sign and looks both ways as she answers, "There was a party last night and I'm too hungover to sleep. I heard egg and toast helps, so here I am." She shrugs. Hey, at least she's honest. "I reckon we'll see at least half the football team there, too."
Sure enough, when we walk in, the booths are crowded with boys we recognize from school, even though it's an early Saturday morning. We walk by them and occasionally they'll shout things at us and Savannah will hit them on the back of their heads and tell them to stuff it. I don't say anything.
We slide into a booth in the corner, away from everyone. After the waitress comes and orders our drinks (coffee for me, water for Savannah), she leans towards me and says, "So, a certain quarterback for our football team told me he saw you last night."
Of course Nick Kingston told the entire world he ran into me. "Yeah," I say, shrugging. "It's not that big of a deal." And it isn't.
The waitress comes back and gives us our drinks. I order a bagel with cream cheese and hash browns on the side. Savannah gets some eggs and toast and jelly. After she leaves, we pick up our conversation.
"So, what did ya'll talk about?" she asks casually, swirling her straw around in her drink.
"Not much," I snort. "He was piss drunk. He asked about my summer, and then he asked about my brother, and then I left."
"Jase?" Savannah's eyes light up. In my town, in addition to being a good football player, Jase Carter is also known as a complete heartthrob. "How is he?"
"He's fine," I say. Even though I don't really like it when people gush about my brother, I'm happy to change the subject. "He's out in California now."
"Wow," Savannah says dreamily. "Imagine that." Sterling is a small town, and most of the people that are born here, stay here. Everybody knows everybody, and even the people you don't like probably have grandparents that grew up with yours. This is also why rumors get around so fast; purely through word of mouth.
Jase is probably one of the only people Savannah knows who actually escaped Sterling, escaped Texas. He's the only person I know.
Besides my dad, of course.
"How come you didn't go to the football game?" Savannah asks, catching me totally off guard.
I stare at her. "Are you always this intrusive?"
"Sorry," she shrugs. "Just asking."
"God. I don't know, I didn't feel like going. Football's not my thing anymore."
I can tell she wants to ask more, but she doesn't, and I'm grateful for that. We make small talk as we eat, discussing school and teachers and music and our families, and it's nice. Savannah is someone I can see myself getting along really well with.
As we walk out, someone calls, "Hey, Carter!" I turn around. A couple of boys are leering at me. It's Ethan Moore, the current cornerback, standing a few feet away. I don't know him very well, but I do remember him. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"I live here," I say, trying to keep my cool, preparing for his next comment.
"Yeah, I know, but when both Jase and that dad of yours took off too, we figured all of you were just dropping like flies," Ethan says, and the sleazebags around him all chortle.
Savannah opens her mouth to say something, and I have no idea what's going on inside my head, but it's someone else who comes forward and pushes Ethan away. "Fuck off, Moore." I realize after a moment that it's Nick, who must've just walked in.
"C'mon, I was just havin' some fun," Ethan says, smirking.
Nick pushes him again. "I don't give a fuck." He starts to say something else, but before he can, I turn and push open the door, sucking in a breath of hot air as I walk outside. I can hear Savannah calling after me, but I ignore her.
I'm angry. Really fucking angry. At myself, at Nick, at Ethan, but mostly at my dad, because he caused all this, he's the one who made me some kind of alien from everyone else.
And it's like I can't look anywhere without seeing something regarding Falcon pride, I can't talk to anyone without feeling like they're tiptoeing around the huge elephant that follows me around everywhere. And sometimes, at night, when she thinks James and I are asleep, my mother cries.
I'm angrier than I was a minute ago, my blood pounding in my ears with each step. And then someone shouts, "Hey!"
I don't answer. There's fast footsteps behind me, and then a tug at my arm. It's Nick fucking Kingston, out of breath a little, sweat dripping down the side of his head. "Stay away from me," I warn, wrenching my arm away.
"What the fuck?" he demands, stumbling back a little. "I just stood up for you back there."
"I don't care," I snap. "I don't need you fighting my battles for me or defending me."
"I was trying to help you."
"I don't need your fucking help!" I shout. "I don't even fucking like you! So just leave me alone, all right?"
He looks surprised, and I wonder if there's anybody who has ever had the guts to deny Nick Kingston something. I half-expect him to call me a bitch or something, to turn into his dickhead friends, but he merely backs away, turning around and jogging back to the diner.
I walk home alone, go to my room, crumpling up the note I wrote as I pass. I crawl into bed fully clothed and don't get up for a few more hours, not even when I can hear my mom and James downstairs.
Mom is still asleep. She works late all week and weekends are her only time off, so any time she gets to rest, she takes it. The head waitress, Georgia, runs everything when she's not there. James won't be up for a few more hours, either.
I decide to walk to the diner and get a bagel or something. I leave a note, gone to get breakfast, back soon, love J before heading out. Although it's early, the sun is already beating down hot on my back. I look longingly at all the cars driving by. I've got my license, but Mom needs the car so she can go back and forth from work. Dad took the other one with him when he left.
Suddenly, like magic, a car pulls up beside me and the window rolls down. Savannah Powell is sitting in the driver's seat, her sunglasses on, smiling at me. "Hey, stranger," she calls.
"Hey," I say back, lifting my hand to wave.
"Need a ride?"
"No, thanks," I answer, even though it's obvious I'm sweating like crazy.
"You sure? Where you heading?"
I think about lying for a second, but I know that's wrong because she's only trying to be nice. "Uh, just to the diner to get some breakfast."
"Perfect! Hop in," she chirps. "I'm goin' there too."
"Savannah," I try to say, but she cuts me off.
"Look, Julianna, I'm tryin' to do a nice thing for you, and you can either accept it and get in this nice, cool car or you can stay your stubborn self and walk the rest of the way in this heat. Your choice."
So I hop in, a little reluctantly. As we start driving again, I ask, "What's the occasion?"
She stops at a stop sign and looks both ways as she answers, "There was a party last night and I'm too hungover to sleep. I heard egg and toast helps, so here I am." She shrugs. Hey, at least she's honest. "I reckon we'll see at least half the football team there, too."
Sure enough, when we walk in, the booths are crowded with boys we recognize from school, even though it's an early Saturday morning. We walk by them and occasionally they'll shout things at us and Savannah will hit them on the back of their heads and tell them to stuff it. I don't say anything.
We slide into a booth in the corner, away from everyone. After the waitress comes and orders our drinks (coffee for me, water for Savannah), she leans towards me and says, "So, a certain quarterback for our football team told me he saw you last night."
Of course Nick Kingston told the entire world he ran into me. "Yeah," I say, shrugging. "It's not that big of a deal." And it isn't.
The waitress comes back and gives us our drinks. I order a bagel with cream cheese and hash browns on the side. Savannah gets some eggs and toast and jelly. After she leaves, we pick up our conversation.
"So, what did ya'll talk about?" she asks casually, swirling her straw around in her drink.
"Not much," I snort. "He was piss drunk. He asked about my summer, and then he asked about my brother, and then I left."
"Jase?" Savannah's eyes light up. In my town, in addition to being a good football player, Jase Carter is also known as a complete heartthrob. "How is he?"
"He's fine," I say. Even though I don't really like it when people gush about my brother, I'm happy to change the subject. "He's out in California now."
"Wow," Savannah says dreamily. "Imagine that." Sterling is a small town, and most of the people that are born here, stay here. Everybody knows everybody, and even the people you don't like probably have grandparents that grew up with yours. This is also why rumors get around so fast; purely through word of mouth.
Jase is probably one of the only people Savannah knows who actually escaped Sterling, escaped Texas. He's the only person I know.
Besides my dad, of course.
"How come you didn't go to the football game?" Savannah asks, catching me totally off guard.
I stare at her. "Are you always this intrusive?"
"Sorry," she shrugs. "Just asking."
"God. I don't know, I didn't feel like going. Football's not my thing anymore."
I can tell she wants to ask more, but she doesn't, and I'm grateful for that. We make small talk as we eat, discussing school and teachers and music and our families, and it's nice. Savannah is someone I can see myself getting along really well with.
As we walk out, someone calls, "Hey, Carter!" I turn around. A couple of boys are leering at me. It's Ethan Moore, the current cornerback, standing a few feet away. I don't know him very well, but I do remember him. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"I live here," I say, trying to keep my cool, preparing for his next comment.
"Yeah, I know, but when both Jase and that dad of yours took off too, we figured all of you were just dropping like flies," Ethan says, and the sleazebags around him all chortle.
Savannah opens her mouth to say something, and I have no idea what's going on inside my head, but it's someone else who comes forward and pushes Ethan away. "Fuck off, Moore." I realize after a moment that it's Nick, who must've just walked in.
"C'mon, I was just havin' some fun," Ethan says, smirking.
Nick pushes him again. "I don't give a fuck." He starts to say something else, but before he can, I turn and push open the door, sucking in a breath of hot air as I walk outside. I can hear Savannah calling after me, but I ignore her.
I'm angry. Really fucking angry. At myself, at Nick, at Ethan, but mostly at my dad, because he caused all this, he's the one who made me some kind of alien from everyone else.
And it's like I can't look anywhere without seeing something regarding Falcon pride, I can't talk to anyone without feeling like they're tiptoeing around the huge elephant that follows me around everywhere. And sometimes, at night, when she thinks James and I are asleep, my mother cries.
I'm angrier than I was a minute ago, my blood pounding in my ears with each step. And then someone shouts, "Hey!"
I don't answer. There's fast footsteps behind me, and then a tug at my arm. It's Nick fucking Kingston, out of breath a little, sweat dripping down the side of his head. "Stay away from me," I warn, wrenching my arm away.
"What the fuck?" he demands, stumbling back a little. "I just stood up for you back there."
"I don't care," I snap. "I don't need you fighting my battles for me or defending me."
"I was trying to help you."
"I don't need your fucking help!" I shout. "I don't even fucking like you! So just leave me alone, all right?"
He looks surprised, and I wonder if there's anybody who has ever had the guts to deny Nick Kingston something. I half-expect him to call me a bitch or something, to turn into his dickhead friends, but he merely backs away, turning around and jogging back to the diner.
I walk home alone, go to my room, crumpling up the note I wrote as I pass. I crawl into bed fully clothed and don't get up for a few more hours, not even when I can hear my mom and James downstairs.
♠ ♠ ♠
hiiiiiiiiiiiiii.