Cupcake Girl Page 4

  She was trying to pretend everything was okay, but I knew Jake’s sudden departure hurt her even more than it hurt me. I wanted to somehow ease the emptiness, so I finally did the only thing I knew would cheer up my mom—I dragged out the vacuum.

  She looked so surprised that I explained, “You’ve wanted this room cleaned for the last six years, and now we’ve got the perfect opportunity.”

  “I guess I better be careful what I ask for.” She bent down and scooped up a stack of papers. “But first, we might need to pick up these Spanish notes.”

  “And this basketball,” I added as I tossed it on the bed.

  “And these movie cases.” Mom started snapping them closed.

  “And this half-eaten frozen burrito.” I pulled a crusty plate out from under Jake’s bed.

  The sight made us both smile, and we spent the next hour and a half going through the garbage Jake had randomly tossed throughout the room. Mom and I smirked again when we came across the remains of a glass of milk now solidified into a very stinky yogurt.

  We reminisced as we came across pictures and awards, but stopped when we found a homemade comic book trapped behind Jake’s desk. This one was called Strong Man and Cupcake Girl Save Elephantropolis, and it boasted a wrinkled water stain near the long row of uneven staples holding it together. We both smiled at the childish illustrations—Lexie’s artistic talents had definitely improved over the years—and smiled again at the text on the second page: “Dedekatd to Jake.” Though there were only about eight squares of action spread between the next two pages, I remembered how hard she and I had worked on that comic, and how proud we were when we presented our gift to Jake.

  The mood lightened significantly while Mom and I read the corny dialogue. Then we opened Jake’s bedside table and saw a small can opener, the kind you’d use to pop open a bottle. A shadow crossed my mom’s face and she got quiet, like the air had been sucked from the room.

  I usually feel a huge sense of accomplishment when I help restore order to chaos, but seeing Jake’s room so clean only intensified his absence. I could tell my mom felt the same way, and though I desperately wanted to talk to Lexie, I stuck around until Dad got home so Mom wouldn’t have to be in the house alone.

  I did not, however, stick around long enough to see if he wanted to talk, since I couldn’t help but feel it was his fault Jake was gone. All I could think of was seeing Lexie, since I knew she would make everything okay.

  7

  Confession

  I was counting on Lexie to restore the carefree freedom of the last day of school, but she was strangely quiet. I tried to cheer her up with a wild ride on the jet ski, but as we anchored by our island, I could tell something was bothering her. I wanted to find out what was wrong, but before I knew it, I was spilling every detail of the afternoon. She listened carefully and was so empathetic about Jake leaving that for a few minutes I just enjoyed the attention.

  Then I snapped out of it and remembered the real reason she was sorry to have him go—she was going to miss him as much as I was. She seemed so sad I did something I’d never been brave enough to do. I actually talked to her about my brother.

  “This has got to be especially hard for you,” I said.

  Lexie frowned slightly. “Why?”

  The blood rushed into my face, and I regretted bringing up the subject. I stammered, searching my brain for something else to talk about, but she wouldn’t let it go. “What do you mean it’s especially hard for me to have Jake leave?” she asked.

  “I mean, just since you’ve always, you know, had a crush on him.” Unable to look at her, I glanced at the deepening colors of the sky as the sun began its descent toward the sandy hills.

  For a minute Lexie didn’t say anything, but then she started to laugh. It was more of a giggle than a full-out laugh, but it made me self-conscious. “What?” I finally said. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. I mean, it’s just—I’ve never had a crush on Jake.”

  My world shifted a little, and I wondered whether I’d heard her correctly. I started to ask about the cross-country meet last fall, and then another idea dawned on me. What if Lexie and Meri had been talking about Jake, not me? What if when Lexie said she really liked his brother, she meant she really liked Jake’s brother—me?

  A hundred questions raced through my mind. When she glanced up at me, her violet-blue eyes caught the glow of the dying sun, and I was struck again by an overpowering need to kiss her. With that same reckless courage I’d felt during that intense storm last summer, I leaned in and kissed her. Then my world shifted a lot, because she kissed me back. Her lips were soft and warm with the slightest taste of vanilla. I caressed her face and was flooded with sunshine, like everything was suddenly right with the world.

  After we broke apart I couldn’t suppress a smile. Action heroes always look so cool and collected after kissing a girl, but I clearly don’t have a future on the big screen since I couldn’t hold back a grin every time I glanced at Lexie. Her eyes smiled back at me, and she leaned into me and rested her head on my shoulder.

  I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her a little closer, and we sat there for a minute as the sun sank into the bluff. Lexie sighed and said, “Have you ever seen a sunset like that? It’s like the clouds are on fire. It’s so beautiful.”

  “Absolutely beautiful,” I replied, ignoring the skies and looking at her.

  “I’m going to miss this so much,” she said, almost in a whisper.

  “What do you mean?”

  Lexie stiffened as my question hung in the air between us. She inhaled slowly and replied, “Well, I know Jake just left and everything, but I’m probably leaving too.”

  “What do you mean leaving? Like for the weekend again?”

  “No. Longer. Nothing is set in stone yet, but my mom had all of the tests—all the medical tests for my grandma—sent to some big cancer center in Houston. I guess there’s some world- class doctor there, and my mom’s convinced that when he sees the tests he’ll squeeze my grandma into his schedule.”

  “Do you have to go too? I mean, can’t your mom just go?”

  Lexie looked miserable. “I’ve tried everything to get out of it, but my mom thinks this is our only option.”

  “Is she really that sick?”

  “Yeah—yeah she is. They think her only chance for survival is to have surgery and then chemo.”

  “Wow. When would you go?”

  “My mom seriously thinks we could leave at any second. She’s had the house packed for weeks and won’t even go grocery shopping since she wants us to eat everything in the freezer.” Lexie paused. “She’s even been praying.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, like real prayers where we kneel down together twice a day. And sometimes when I pass by her room, I see her kneeling by her bed.” Lexie’s voice caught a little. “It’s just weird. I mean, your family says grace before eating, but we’ve never done that. I’ve never seen my mom pray—like, my whole life—and now it seems that’s all she’s doing.”

  “Then God will probably answer her prayers,” I said slowly. That sounded a little more like my own grandma speaking than me. My family only went to church on Christmas and Easter, but my grandparents were devout Christians who really believed in prayer. I usually didn’t think much about it, but somehow it felt right to say that Mrs. Duncan’s prayers would be answered.

  “You think so?” Lexie asked.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  She looked like she was going to cry, so I pulled her into a long hug. I told her it would be okay, but it didn’t feel that way to me—not when the answer to her mom’s prayers would take Lexie a thousand miles away.

  8

  Distracted

  The sun had set by the time we drove the jet ski into the marina and clipped it into its slip. I felt a rush when Lexie took my hand to get from the jet ski to the boardwalk, and then I held it tight as we walked home. We probably talked about something, but I had a
hard time focusing on anything but the fact that I was holding her hand and we would be at her doorstep in about four minutes. My heart thudded in my ears as I planned out the scene in my mind. I definitely wanted to kiss her again, but was I pushing my luck? How would I do it? Would I keep holding her hand or try to hug her first? A hug? Come on, that would be totally stupid. I had to think of another way. But what if she was smiling, or talking?

  Then I realized she was talking. “Max? Are you listening to me?”

  “What? Oh, uh, sorry. I mean, what did you say?” I guess I just answered that question.

  “Oh, well, I was just saying that we are probably going to be gone—”

  Her words were muffled by the garble of a trash can being dragged onto the curb by Lexie’s elderly neighbor, Martin. He waved when he saw her, and I really hoped he wouldn’t come talk to her. No such luck.

  “Why, hello there, Miss Alexa. How are you doing on this warm summer evening?”

  Lexie started in on some polite small talk, which gave me time to get really nervous. I was noticing how much her porch light resembled a floodlight when the door burst open and Mrs. Duncan hurried down the front steps like she’d been watching for us.

  Lexie immediately dropped my hand. My hopes fell with it.

  “Oh, Lexie, you’re home,” her mom said in obvious relief. “We need to talk.” She turned to their neighbor. “Martin, I’m so glad I caught you. There’s something I need to ask you.”

  Lexie grabbed my arm, but I was staring at the beautiful curve in her lips that hinted at a pout. Maybe if we waited until everyone went in, I could still try to kiss her.

  “Uh, Max? Did you hear what my mom just said?”

  “Sorry. What?” I was fully conscious that Lexie had just caught me gazing at her mouth in a trance of stupidity.

  “I guess she needs me to come in now.” Lexie still looked at me like she was concerned for my mental stability.

  “Oh, okay,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah, of course. What time do you get off work?”

  “I should be done by five or six, but I’ll call you, okay?”

  “Yeah, but remember to call my home phone.” Lexie gave me a real smile. “See you tomorrow, Max.”

  I said goodbye to everyone before sprinting home. I just couldn’t help it. I’d spent the past year wondering what it would be like to kiss Lexie, and it was even better than I’d hoped it would be.

  The following morning I was so happy I didn’t even complain when my dad asked me to take driving duty. He’d rented out our speed boat to a group of tourists who had no idea what a twenty-two-footer was, but who were determined to learn to water-ski. It was a tedious day and required tons of patience, especially since they didn’t quit early like other groups I’d worked with. Instead, they stayed out for the full rental time—ten long hours.

  When I finally pulled the boat into the slip, I was surprised to see my mom waiting on the dock. One look at her face told me something was wrong, so I instinctively asked about Jake.

  “Oh, honey—it’s not Jake. It’s Lexie. She called about five times today and stopped by twice, but I guess they had to go.”

  “Go? Where?” Her look answered my question. “To Houston?” Mom must’ve heard the catch in my voice, because she tried to give me a hug. I brushed her off and said angrily, “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come in!”

  “We did try. I tried. Lexie tried. I even drove the truck out along the western shore to see if I could flag you down, but—”

  I grabbed my phone and groaned when I saw the long line of unanswered calls. It must have been muted, and I’d been so busy I hadn’t bothered checking it. I wanted to kick something, hard.

  “She didn’t say much—they really were in a hurry,” Mom explained, “but she did write you a note. Here.” She held out a small piece of paper that had been folded several times.

  I didn’t say thank you, but grabbed it and stormed away, not really wanting my mom to read it over my shoulder. I sprinted for a few minutes to let off some steam, and climbed to the top of a rocky bluff overlooking the marina to read it. The sun had already set, but there was enough light at twilight to read the note.

  Lexie’s writing looked rushed, and I was disappointed that the whole note fit on that little square of paper.

  Hi, Max. I'm so, so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I will write and explain everything as soon as we get on the road. Miss you already.

  Lexie.

  I couldn’t believe she was gone. She said she could go any day, but it all happened so fast it didn’t seem real. I waited for a few minutes before jogging down to her house. It was dark outside by the time I got there, and the house itself felt foreboding.

  Tonight I would have been glad to see the floodlight pouring onto the front porch, but everything was dark. Knowing no one was home, I knocked on the door about eight times, and then walked around the house to check for any sign of life. It looked so empty I wondered if Lexie wasn’t teasing when she said her mom might disconnect the power to save money.

  That made me remember her phone, and I felt a small surge of hope that I could at least call her emergency number. I scrolled down to her name, but there was only one number. Why didn’t I ask for the new one? Oh, right—it was because that stupid phone couldn’t even receive calls.

  Knowing it was as hopeless as knocking on the door had been, I clicked on the number for Lexie’s old phone. Again, I got that maddening recorded message about the number being disconnected. I stood there for a while, wishing Lexie would spend eighty-six seconds to call and say goodbye, because having her leave so suddenly and completely felt like an emergency to me.

  Then I read the note again.

  Hi, Max. I'm so, so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I will write and explain everything as soon as we get on the road. Miss you already.

  Lexie.

  I guess I got my three-sentence emergency notification after all.

  9

  Empty

  I checked our mailbox religiously for the next few weeks, but the only letters addressed to Max Rogers came from about seven different colleges. I was slightly tempted to open the two from some university in Houston, but they all just reminded me of Lexie and brought back that dull ache in my chest, so I threw them in the ever-growing heap in the shoebox under my desk.

  I also started checking my email daily, which is a little unusual for me. But still nothing. Every few days I sent a short message to Lexie, hoping someday she would see them and respond. They went something like this:

  June 2: I can’t believe you’re gone, and that I didn’t even get to say goodbye! How is Houston? Sorry I missed you on the day you left—I had a boatful of the most determined tourists you’ve ever met. Or at least they were the stingiest, because they wanted to use every single minute they paid for. Hope you’re okay and that your grandma gets better quickly.

  June 5: Do they have a lake in Houston? The water was perfect today, but it was no fun swimming out to our island without you. And there’s a jet ski with your name on it, just waiting for you to come home.

  June 9: How are you? Things are so boring here without you. I don’t even have Jake around to keep things interesting. We text a lot and talk every couple of days, but I’m still hoping to hear from you. Seriously—feel free to call or write any day.

  June 14: A few guys from the cross-country team came waterskiing on Friday, and every one of them gave me a blank stare when I quoted What About Bob? Then Alec spent the rest of the day tormenting me about watching lame movies from the nineties. At least I was smart enough to turn off my dad’s CD in his truck before I started it. I would never live it down if they heard John Denver blasting through the truck. I know What About Bob? is out in the open now, but maybe you can help me keep John Denver as our little secret, okay?

  I miss hanging out with someone who gets my jokes. It’s never funny when you have to e
xplain.

  June 18: Roses are red, violets are blue. I’m stuck here—where are you?

  I have no idea how Lexie could possibly ignore such engaging conversation starters—poetry, even—but she did. Just completely ignored them, without a single phone call, text, or email. Nothing.

  And that’s basically how the summer felt from the moment she left—empty, blank, boring. It was especially lonely since Jake wasn’t around to liven things up. But at least I could text or call him every once in a while to make sure he was alive.

  My mom wore this perpetually worried look on her face all summer, even when she was smiling. She and Jake had always spent a lot of time talking, but since I had Lexie, I guess Mom and I never connected much. But now that it was just Mom and Dad and me, I was under a magnifying glass every time we were in the same room. All their attention was focused right on me—especially Mom’s. She kept asking me about Lexie, probably hoping we would have some heart-to- heart conversation about how much I missed her and how I’d been in love with her since forever. I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings or anything, but that was just not going to happen.

  She kept trying, though. Her expectant look and not-so- subtle prompts made it pretty obvious that my silence hurt her feelings. But hey, it was hard enough for me not to think about Lexie every second of the day without having someone else rub in the fact that she was gone. So I tried to keep as busy as possible, which wasn’t hard since we were one man short at the marina and it was summertime. After about two weeks of total craziness and a few sixteen-hour work days, my dad finally hired an older guy named Edgar to come help out, which shaved my work days down to only nine or ten hours.

  Then I used just about every minute of my free time (or at least every minute I wasn’t hopelessly checking email) to train to become the next Elephant Man. I know it sounds weird, but don’t worry—I wasn’t on some twisted quest to acquire elephantitis or to gain a lot of weight. Rather, I was training for the Elephant Man Triathlon held every September in Truth or Consequences. It’s a sprint triathlon, so it’s a 1-mile swim, 26.2 mile bike race, and 3-mile run. Lexie and I always did the Elephant Kidz race (lovely title, huh?) until we turned sixteen and were too old for it. This would be the first time I would compete in the adult race.