Why am I so nervous?
“Thank you, Mrs. Crawford,” I hear her reply, and then I see her wearing a baby pink dress and her smile is so big. “Hayden, I’m so excited to meet your friends today, and I have so much to tell you about the book.” She looks over at my dad and says hello then turns back to me.
I did ask her why she had to wait, and she said they had to pay for other things first, and she was just happy her dad was going to buy it for her when he could.
“But if you listened to how good the book is getting, you’d enjoy it. I know you would. He’s a wizard?—”
“I know he's a wizard, you tell me every day. You need to read something else.” She pushes me a little and shakes her head.
“I’ve read a lot of books, and you don’t like any of them. I even told you about the book which made me cry and you laughed.” She pushes her finger into my arm. “It was a heartbreaking story.” I can’t even remember the name of the book, something with stars in the title.
“And I told you, when you start reading books which have some fighting or something, I might want to know more.” I pick up the bag and hand it over to her. She takes it from me but doesn’t look inside it.
“How was practice, did you get hurt?” she asks.
“It was good, it won’t be long until you know all about hockey, I bet you’ll start reading about it too,” I joke, and she nods because I know she’s asked her dad to get her a book. Hockey for Dummies. “Open the bag.” I point to it, and she does.
Taking out the daisy, she smiles as she smells it, then hands it to her dad, before looking back into the bag. “Are you trying to make me fat?” she questions when she takes out the unicorn cupcake.
“You’ll never be fat,” I tell her. She eats so many cookies and now cupcakes because I’ll give her one most days. She takes out the last thing in the bag and looks at me. “I think you’ll like it.” I smile at her because I know her well enough. She rips the paper off it, bursts out laughing, and shakes her head at me. “Now when you read to me, at least I’ll be interested.”
“So, you don’t listen when I tell you about all my other books?” She asks, and now I laugh at her.
“I listen, but this one I'll be interested in.” I take the book from her and point to the cover. “Plus, maybe by listening to you I can get better, because it has tips on how to improve your game.” I got her a book about hockey, so she'll know what's happening when she watches me play.
“Are you going to this dance or argue about—” My dad stops and looks between us.
“Whatever it is you two are arguing over?—”
“We’re not arguing.” We both reply at the same time, and both my parents and Olivia’s dad laugh at us both.
Ignoring them all, I put my arm over her shoulder, and we walk toward the front door. “You know I think this should be your next read when you come over tomorrow. I’ll get popcorn ready.”
“Salted?”
“Who likes salted popcorn? Weird people like it. Sweet popcorn is the way to go; there shouldn’t be anything else.” Sometimes I wonder how we’re friends, because she has funny ways which I don’t understand. Salted popcorn. Is she crazy?
“I’ll bring my own?—”
“No, you won’t. I’ll have some for you, just because you’re a freak, doesn’t mean I won’t get it for you.”
“We can mix them.” Olivia's voice changes to a high pitch with her idea.
“What? No one does that!” I shout. I think this has to be the craziest idea she’s ever had.
“We can try it.” She asks and tilts her head a little to the side.
“Fine, we can try it, but it’s going to taste like dirt.” I look over at my dad. “Dad, you coming?” I ask him, and then open the door for Olivia. “We’re going to dance so much our feet will be hurting tomorrow.”
Present Day
I stare out the window, looking at the treehouse. I wanted to get rid of it, but Dad kept saying I would regret it one day. I had to laugh. Why the hell would I regret not seeing that tree every fucking day.
I hate it, hate remembering sitting on the grass, hate how we laughed in the tree house. I hate everything about it.
I should have cut the fucking tree down.
I get off the bed, throw the last of my things into my bag, ready to go back to school. Looking up at the door, I smile at Mom. I knew there was going to be a moment she'd come to talk to me. I just didn’t think she was going to wait until the day I went back.
