Page 38 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

Jade

Field hockey has somehow become the entire center of my universe in less than a month. I didn’t expect that part. I thought it’d just be something to do, another way to fill time, making senior memories that would make my brothers proud, or cringe, both probably.

Instead, I love it. Like, really love it. Especially the goalie, which surprised everyone, including me.

Tessa says it’s because I was raised by a pack of wolves…she’s not wrong. Apparently, normal people don’t willingly throw themselves in front of hard rubber balls traveling at terrifying speeds.

But honestly? Standing in front of that cage in all the pads makes me feel strong. Not pretty. Not fragile. Not like the girl everybody whispers about. Strong. Like Jason and Jasper always were.

Coach V says I’m fearless. That’s not true. I’m terrified all the time. I’ve just learned that facing fear and truly living are part of life.

Most mornings this summer start the same way. Tessa and Alex are pulling into the driveway, blasting music through the farm truck speakers, and I'm trying to get out the door before he lays on the horn.

He’s so much better now, and that doesn’t make him miss Jason and Japer any less.

Me? I feel unapologetically good these days, most days anyway. I know they would want that for me. How do I know that? Because I would want that for them.

I have to remind myself of that less often now, and yes, everyone told me that, but it wasn’t until the concert and the first time Alive started, Eddie Vedder growling, “I’m still alive,” that Tessa looked over at me like she needed me to understand something without her having to say it… again.

The little girl inside of me truly wishes Eddie Vedder would tell her that, then maybe the real Janet Ross would return.

My outfit, so unlike me, I planned it three times… okay, maybe seven. Either way, I looked damn good.

I’m just tired of hiding, so the baggy tees and hoodies will remain in my closet. My hair? No more ponytail or braid unless I’m on the field. My butt and hips, I love them now. That’s not saying I wish my almost Cs were like Tessa’s D’s, but hey, I will work with what I have.

Molly taught Tessa and me how to flip our heads upside down and spray the roots with Aqua Net until our bangs stay exactly where they’re supposed to. Aunt Josie gave us both makeup and taught us how to use it. Tessa hates it, I love it, especially the eyeliner and mascara. My eyes look brighter. Edgier somehow. More awake.

I cuff my jeans now, wear fitted tanks under open flannels. I’ve stolen Jason’s old leather bracelet from his nightstand and Jasper's cross necklace from his.

Some days I wear them because I miss them; some days, because it makes me feel stronger. And I like that. The boys in town definitely noticed. Unfortunately, Ry hardly even looks at me.

Tessa, Becca, and I aren’t the only ones who changed over the summer. Alex and Ryan are taller, more muscular, and have broader shoulders. That stupid, crooked smile Ryan pretends not to know works on people; it’s even more obvious… practiced, but it’s never pointed at me.

They spend half their time going to Ithaca and Cortland and hooking up with college girls now. At least according to literally everyone. Which shouldn’t bother me, except maybe it does a little. I’m sure he’s giving them that stupid smile.

It’s fine. All Good. I mean, it sucks, but not enough to ruin this summer. No chance. Our senior year, every night will feel alive in this loud way I have avoided since the accident. I want bonfires and back roads. Field hockey bruises blooming across my shins like trophies. Tessa laughing so hard she snorts. Becca to openly flirt with boys so it no longer makes her blush.

I’m done hiding in the wreckage of what happened to us. We survived something terrible and have decided to live anyway. Even if it’s messy. Even if it hurts.

Song: Learning To Fly

Still…

10

BLUE IT IS

Tommy

Irun my finger over the red nameplate on the white locker, then trace the engraved letters and number: TLANE17.

I exhale a deep breath as I turn and look around the room, eyes stalling on the Stoneville Spartans mascot painted on the wall, surrounding it, championship banners, MVP awards, section and state wins, rows and rows of plaques and awards that we’ve won since making Varsity in seventh grade. We? My best friend, Lucas, and I.

I look around the locker room, pissed that this is happening. It’s our last year of high school, and although for Lucas’s sake —and keeping his head literally in the game— I have to keep it positive, but this is some bullshit.

Our senior year, and honestly, possibly the last year we’ll play on the field together, our school is closing its doors permanently, and we’re scrambling to choose a school that’s best for us both, one that will give us the best chance at playing college ball.

Lucas is the real star; his talent is unmatched in the state. Whatever college he wants, he’ll get into, and there is no doubt he’ll be given a full ride. He says we’ll play for four full years, but there’s no doubt in my mind he’ll go pro after his first season.