Strong & Wilde

Four

Four

Cassie

I bolted upright, my heart pounding. Oh my god! It’s a bear! A bear was outside my tent, clawing at the entrance. At least, I thought it was a bear. Dad had told me there were no bears around anymore. Knowing my luck, they found their way back. I slowed down my breathing, listening for bear growls.

I peeked out of the tent. In the moonlight, Cody was on all fours, brushing his hands over the dirt.

What the hell was he doing?

He cursed under his breath as he tossed rocks and leaves aside frantically. His hair was plastered to his sweaty forehead.

His head popped up for a moment and then he scrambled to his feet, disappearing into the woods.

I looked over at Dad’s tent. He was snoring loudly. I wasn’t sure if I should wake him and tell him about Cody running off. Something was wrong.

Then I thought about the expression on Cody’s face when he returned to the camp after I told Dad about not wanting Cody around. Did I upset him that much?

I should go get him.

Grabbing a flashlight, I followed the trail he took. Good thing that the moon was out, giving some additional light.

I heard the sound of running water and knew I was close to the stream. My heart pounded as I remembered how Dad warned us not to get too close. What if Cody was so upset that he didn’t pay attention to where he was going and he fell in?

I ran faster.

Just as was about to reach the stream, I tripped over something large.

“Son of a b***h!” I yelled, landing face down in the mud.

I flipped over to see what had tripped me and there was Cody, his eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained.

Aww, hell. I did hurt his feelings.

“You okay?” His voice cracked.

“Yeah.” I pushed myself off the ground and looked down at my muddied shirt. “I hear mud facials are an in thing nowadays.”

His lips lifted into a half-hearted smile.

I took off my shoes and waded into the water, careful not to go too far. As I rinsed off the mud from my face and arms, I could feel him watching me. I took my time, not knowing what to say. What do you say to a boy when you’ve caught him crying and it was probably your fault? Do say something like: “Are you crying?” or maybe “Sorry I made you cry.” Or maybe I should just ignore it.

“So,” I said, plopping down beside him, “you have allergies.”

Blue eyes looked at me blankly.

Yeah, should’ve just ignored the crying.

“I don’t think so,” he finally said. “Why’d you say that?”

“Well, you’ve been doing a lot of sniffing and your eyes are watery.”

His face turned beet red and he turned to face the stream. “Go away.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said back at camp.”

“Yes, you did.”

He got me there. I decided being honest was probably the best way to go. “Okay, so I wasn’t exactly excited that you were coming with us. But it’s not because of you.”

“Yeah, right. You’re just like the rest of them.”

“Like who?”

“Seth, Dillon, and Chase. I bet you’re even best friends with their cousin Lynette too.”

“I am not! You take that back.” Seth and his brothers were the meanest kids in Koppe. They picked on everyone who didn’t run in their circle. And I was definitely not their friend. The only reason they left me alone was because my dad worked for their father. I couldn’t help it that their father was the Koppe sheriff. As for Lynette, she was just plain nasty.

“Well, maybe you’re not friends with them, but you might as well be. You’re just like them.”

“No, I’m not!” I jumped to my feet, placing my hands on my hips. “I’ve never called you or anyone names.”

They all teased Cody on what seemed like a daily basis. His family was poor and he couldn’t afford to wear the kind of clothes that the rest of the kids in school wore. He often showed up with jeans that barely reached his ankles or holes in his shirts. He used to fight back when they made fun of him, calling him names like “High Water Cody” or “Blue Light Special Wilde.” But ever since his father died, he stopped. He just walked away. Now almost everyone in school called him names like “sissy” or “wuss.”

“There are other ways of being mean than calling people names,” he snapped.

The last time I played football was at a church picnic. I thought I was badass playing with boys who were older than me. When my dad had the ball, I had yelled at him to throw it to me. He did and it slammed straight into the middle of my chest, knocking the wind right out of me. In that brief moment, I couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to die. It was awful. It was the first time I’d ever felt like that.

This was the second.

I sank to the ground, ashamed to look him in the eye. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I fiddled around with my shoes, feeling the weight of his eyes watching me. I could hear the bubbling of the stream and crickets chirping in the distance. Leaves rustled in the trees as a cool breeze blew, making me shiver. There was a snapping of twigs and I felt him close the space between us. Then he said something that made me feel even worse.

“Hey, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you like that. If it had been my dad, I wouldn’t want some stinky ol’ girl taggin’ along with us either.” He gave me a playful nudge.

I felt awful. I’d acted like a whiny brat, a total witch with a capital “B,” all day and he was apologizing to me. Even I didn’t like me at that moment and yet here he was being so nice and sweet. And to top it off, he’d lost his dad not that long ago. My dad was trying to make him feel better for a while and I had to go and ruin it.

Man, I suck. Really, I do. I had to make it up to him somehow.

I took a deep breath and looked up. He was so close I could see a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Long eyelashes, the kind any girl would kill for, framed blue eyes flecked with gold. Even though he was smiling, it didn’t touch those pretty eyes.

“Cody, I’m sorry about your dad . . . about him . . . uh, you know.” I hated talking about people dying. The thought of living without my parents was unbearable.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew what I meant. I guess he hated saying the “D” word too. “Yeah, I know.”

“Is that why you were out here alone to . . . uh . . . ?” I pointed to his eyes not wanting to acknowledge that I caught him crying. I’d already made him feel bad enough.

“I was lookin’ for a photo I had of my dad. I thought maybe I dropped it when I gave your dad my matches, but I couldn’t find it. Then I thought maybe it fell out earlier today when we were wading in the stream.”

“Did you find it?”

“No.” His chin quivered and he turned his head away.

“Maybe your mom has another one?”

He cleared his throat, still facing away from me. “Yeah, but this one’s special.”

“Why?”

“It was taken the day I was born.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll help you find it. I’m sure it’s around somewhere—” I scrambled to my feet and headed back toward camp. “Wait here. I think I know where it is.”

I rushed passed the tents and went to the back of my dad’s truck. Grabbing the trash bag, I ran back to Cody.

“I bet it’s in here,” I said, dumping the contents onto the ground.

We leafed through the paper plates, cups, and wadded up napkins. Stuck between two candy wrappers, I pulled out a photo. A pair of bright blue eyes like Cody’s stared back. “Here it is,” I said, handing it to him.

He took the photo and held it as if it was the most precious thing in the world to him. And then he did something that scared me.

He cried.

It was a soft rolling of tears at first. That wasn’t the scary part. It was when his breath started coming out in pants, his chest heaving up and down like he couldn’t breathe and his face turned a bright red. I didn’t know what to do.

Something inside of me told me to put an arm around him. I hesitated at first, not sure how he’d react. When I finally did, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he buried his head into my shoulder and sobbed even harder. So I hugged him tighter and rocked him just like my mom did whenever I was upset.

Hearing his pain touched something inside of me. A lump formed in my throat and I began to ache for him.

When he finally stopped, he pulled away, sniffing. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

I took a wadded napkin from the trash bag that looked reasonably clean and handed it to him. “Friends keep each other’s secrets.”

His eyes widened in surprised. “We’re friends?”

“Yeah. I mean, that is if you want to be.” I looked away, fussing with the trash. “Don’t blame you if you didn’t. I kinda acted like an idiot.”

“Hey, no one calls my friend an idiot.” He pushed me playfully.

I looked at him, and he grinned, flashing a dimple on his tear-stained cheek. “I promise to be a better friend to you. And I won’t tell anyone what happened.”

“And I won’t tell anyone that you fart in your sleep.”

“I do not!” I pretended to be mad at him for saying that but my laughter gave it away. The lopsided smile on his face was priceless. I lifted my hand, wiggling my pinky. “Pinky swear?”

“Girls,” he muttered, shaking his head. Then he stuck out his hand and curled his pinky around mine. “Pinky swear.”

I had a sudden idea and I reached into my pocket. “There’s something I want you give you.”

I took his warm hand, facing it palm upward. Then I dropped an amber gemstone into it. “My dad gave it to me for my birthday. I think you need it more than I do.”

His fingers ran over the smooth surface of the pear-shaped gemstone. “I-I can’t take this.”

I shook my head when he tried to hand it back to me. “You can’t give back a present from a friend. It’s just plain rude.”

“But—”

“Nope, no buts. It’s a tiger’s eye. It gives you protection and courage. I have my dad and he’s always been there to protect me. Well, now that your dad . . . well, you know . . . ”

He nodded.

“It’s my present to you. Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks, Cassie.” He gave me a smile that lit up his beautiful eyes. Wow!

I think my heart melted a little.