Wildflowers

Later that night I’m forced out from under the covers because Georgia texts me, saying she’s coming over.

When I let her in my house, the skin under her eyes is puffy and pink.

I give her a hug. “You okay?”

“My mom was being terrible, as usual. She pointed out everything I did wrong in my routine today.”

“You did great! And the team came in second. That’s all that matters, right?”

“Not to Mom. I didn’t smile enough apparently.”

“I saw your whole performance and you were totally smiling.”

Georgia shuts her eyes. “I don’t know how to make my mom happy so she’ll leave me alone.”

It’s hard to relate because my parents aren’t controlling at all. They want whatever I want, and I want to swim. I can’t imagine doing it because someone else demanded it of me, like how Jason’s father gets pissed when he comes in second, or the way Georgia’s mom critiques her every move when it comes to cheerleading.

“You love cheering, right?” I ask.

“More than anything.”

“Then doing your best and having a good time is all that matters.”

“It sucks having to listen to Mom tell me I’m not good enough.”

“You should tell her that.”

Georgia makes a guffawing noise. “As if she listens to a word I say.”

I don’t know how to respond. “We need ice cream.”

“Oh my god, yes. I’m starving. Mom’s still on the no-sugar diet.”

Georgia helps me raid our fridge and then we climb the stairs to my room. There, I kick the clothes littering the floor out of our way, and move my gym bag, clearing a spot for her on my bed. Once we’re settled and listening to music, she doesn’t beat around the bush.

“What’s going on with you and Leaves?” she asks through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie dough.

I wrap my arms around my shins and prop my chin on my knee.

“You can talk to me.”

“I know.”

“So go ahead. ‘Levi and I…’” she starts.

I take a deep breath. “Levi and I… I asked him to teach me how to fool around.”

Her eyebrows shoot up toward the ceiling. “You just came right out and asked him that?”

“Yup.”

“And he said yeah?”

“We talked about it first, but eventually, yeah, he said yes.”

“That takes courage… How long have you been doing this?”

“A few weeks.”

She squeals. “Are you guys dating?”

“No.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Georgia cocks her head. “Don’t you want more?”

Am I supposed to want more? I don’t know if I do. Why does my relationship with Levi have to be one thing or another? The way Georgia is questioning me, it’s like I’m doing something bad. But it’s my body, my life, my needs. And I’ve been happy.

“I like what I had going with Levi.”

“Had?”

“Today after Hunter found out, Levi said we should probably stop.”

“That stinks.” Sighing, Georgia scoops a big bite of ice cream into her mouth.

“Hunter’s probably right. One of us will end up hurt.” And I’m afraid it might be me.

“Seriously though. How was it?”

I smile, remembering what it’s like to curl up with Levi. He makes me feel fun, sexy, and wanted all at once.

“It was great,” I tell her, and she squeals again, wanting to know all the details. I give her a few—he’s a great kisser and knows what he’s doing with his hands—but the memories feel special, and I want to wrap them up in tissue paper and hide them deep in the memory box in my closet.

She glances at me tentatively. “So you think it’s okay to experiment with a guy and not date him?”

“It was working okay for us…and it felt amazing.”

“God, my mom would kill me if I did that. And could you imagine what the people at church would say? I don’t understand how Hunter and Shelby have been doing the casual thing either. I guess I never figured it was an option for girls.”

I get what she’s saying. There’s definitely a double standard. It seems guys can do whatever they want sexually because boys will be boys. But girls have every right to experiment too. Can’t girls be girls?

I scoop a bite of ice cream. “I think you can experiment. But you both have to be on the same page, or I bet somebody will get hurt.”

“So you and Leaves aren’t going to hook up anymore?” Her forehead crinkles.

“I guess not.”

“But think of all the cute, future Olympian babies you’d have!”

My mouth falls open.

Georgia rambles, “I’ve always thought you guys were perfect for each other but that you weren’t ready yet. Like, you needed to grow a little more.”

She’s not wrong. I think I could definitely come to feel more for him. I mean, I already love him as a friend, but maybe I like him more than that. But there’s no guarantee he would feel the same.

One time at Junior Nationals, I swam against Deanna Rodriguez, a fifteen-year-old who had made the overall US National Team. Right before the start, I questioned whether I should even bother swimming the race, because there was a high probability I would lose. What did I do?

I dove in.

If I were to look deep inside myself and figure out I want more with Levi, I would tell him. But do I?

When Georgia goes home later that night, I swipe on my phone to text Levi.

Good night, I type.

Immediately he writes back Good night M.

• • •

Monday morning while waiting for music appreciation class to start, Hunter and I are messing around like we’re back in elementary school.

Hunter plays “Twinkle, Twinkle” on the xylophone, and I’m going to town on the triangle. Our music teacher dresses like a hippie who never left Woodstock and wants us to become one with ourselves, whatever that means, so generally we spend most of class listening to different kinds of music and describing how it makes us feel.

“Your song makes me feel like shit,” Levi calls from across the room, and Hunter and I start playing louder and louder. Other kids groan at how bad we are.

“Hey, listen,” Hunter says. “I’m sorry if I upset you the other day.”

Ding, ding, ding, I play on the triangle. I don’t think anyone can hear us talking thanks to our horrible music. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. I’m wrecked about Shelby and took it out on you and Levi. Did I mess things up for you guys?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “At first I didn’t think it would be hard to stop, but now I’m not sure how I feel about him.”

“Do you think about him when you wake up in the morning?”

“Well, yeah. He’s my ride to practice.”

Hunter gives me a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think about him a lot.”

“That probably means something.”

It could mean something, but it might not. I never had romantic feelings for Levi before we started kissing. What if fooling around with Levi is fueling stronger romantic emotions that may or may not be real? Once it happened, feelings started blooming, as if I threw a bunch of seeds over my shoulder, and a month later, wildflowers were all over my yard. They are beautiful, but not what I had planned. Is that okay? Or will it all grow out of control and mess up our carefully tended friendship? I’m not sure if I ever wanted to tend a garden to begin with. Have the romantic feelings taken over my ability to think rationally?

Not to mention the other emotions that came along with making out: jealousy, when I think of Levi with another girl; insecurity, when I worry I’m asking too much of him and could be negatively affecting our friendship. Are we even Maggie and Levi anymore?

One of my classmates smashes the cymbals together, jerking me from my thoughts.

The music teacher, Mrs. McKean, sails into the room, wearing a long flowing dress and no joke—a turban. I wouldn’t be surprised if she pulls out a crystal ball and tries to tell our fortunes.

She smiles at Hunter and me. “Beautiful song, my friends. You truly belong among the stars that twinkle.”

Levi shakes his head at us. I go sit in the chair next to him and smile cheekily. “Did you hear that? I truly belong among the stars.”

He smiles, but it looks a little pained. I want to ask him if he’s doing okay, but I don’t want to seem overbearing either. That’s another thing that sucks about this murky area between friendship and something more. I question everything I do and say, rather than just act like myself. It’s hard to know who I am with him anymore.

Tuesday morning, I find out what was wrong with Levi. He texted he’s not swimming today. What? He hasn’t missed a day since he sprained his arm in third grade.

His message says: I have a cold.

That is not good. The state championship is in four days!

Feel better, I tell him.

I change into my suit, throw on my sweats, and jog downstairs. Dad is standing there still half asleep as usual, holding my snack bag.

“Dad, Levi can’t go this morning. Can you drive me?”

He gives me a sympathetic look. “Your mom and I have an early pitch session with the mayor’s office about the pajama party, and I need to review our presentation a couple more times.”

“But I’ve never driven all the way to Nashville,” I complain.

“Traffic will be light this time of day, and you can take the back roads. You’ll be fine.”

Jingling my keys, I take a deep breath, climb into the car, and start driving. I make it to the Sportsplex okay, but I’m ten minutes late because I couldn’t bring myself to go over forty miles per hour.

“You’re late,” Coach Josh says, obnoxiously checking his watch.

“Dad made me drive again,” I say, and Coach makes an O with his mouth. That’s the last I hear out of him because he knows driving is punishment enough for me.

School is a little lonely without Levi. I eat lunch with Hunter and Shelby, as well as Georgia, who spends most of the time turned around in her chair, flirting with David who’s sitting at another table. Hunter and Shelby are arguing under their breath right in front of me. I can totally hear everything.

“I don’t see why you won’t come to my cousin’s wedding with me,” Shelby says.

“Because,” Hunter replies, “you know people will ask if I’m your boyfriend.”

“So what?”

“Clearly we’re together. If people don’t think I’m your boyfriend, they’ll assume I’m your boy toy or that I’m using you or something.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Well that’s how I feel. I’m not going unless we make this relationship real already.”

Pain flits across Shelby’s face. “I’m sick of fighting with you.”

“Me, too. Just go out with me.”

“Hunt, I’ve told you, I’m scared. I can’t handle long distance. Let’s keep this casual.”

“If we’re casual, there’s no reason for me to go with you to a family wedding.”

Awkward. I want to smush their heads together and make them kiss and tell them to stop their foolishness. Yeah, he’s going away in three months, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be together.

I decide to text Levi: School without you is pure torture

He writes back: I miss you too. x

I stare down at my phone. Is that little x a kiss? The other day he said we can’t hook up anymore, but now he’s texting me kisses? Has the sickness ravaged his brain? Maybe it’s a typo. I nod to myself. Typo. Totally.

The day gets even weirder when Noah, the basketball player Levi doesn’t like, waits for me outside calculus class.

“Did you understand any of that about infinity limits?” he asks.

“Not a bit.”

He walks me down the hall. “You seem different, Maggie.”

“Different how?”

“Relaxed and happy. To be honest, you’re kind of a hard girl to get to know.”

“Really?” I’ve always tried to be nice to people.

Noah scratches the top of his head, peeking at me sideways. “I mean, Levi’s around all the time, and that’s kind of intimidating… Plus you’re so serious and focused.”

“I kind of have to be. Swimming is my life.”

“Whatever you’re doing different, I like it.” He winks and takes off down the hall toward a group of basketball players carrying on about a pick-up game after school.

By the time afternoon swim practice is over, I’m feeling more confident in my driving abilities, so I stop by Foothills Diner to get some soup for Levi. When I get to his house, Oma greets me at the door. She grabs Pepper’s collar as the dog sniffs the paper bag containing chicken soup and warm bread.

“How is he?” I ask Oma.

She gives me a knowing smile. “Behaving like any other sick man—acting like it’s the end of the world.”

I climb the stairs to his room. Without knocking I go in and find him watching a dirt bike race on TV. His bed is covered in tissues. A book called The Raven Boys is sitting on his quilt. He’s wearing a hoodie and mesh shorts, and thick socks cover his feet.

When he sees me, he drags himself to an upright position. “Hey.”

“Don’t overdo it,” I say, moving to sit next to him. I push him forward so I can fluff the pillow behind his head. “I brought you soup.”

“Between you and Oma, my blood is gonna be made of soup.”

“You’re welcome.”

He smiles a little and coughs. The skin around his nose is red.

“Will you be able to swim on Saturday?” I ask.

“Nothing’s keeping me out of that pool.” He coughs again.

Seeing him like this, all flushed and sad and worn out, I can’t help but cradle his cheek and kiss his forehead. When I pull away, he gives me a funny look.

“Don’t get too close,” he says. “You might catch whatever I’ve got.”

“I never get sick. I’ll risk it.”

Levi points at a bottle of antibacterial gel on the nightstand. “At least use some of that. It’s Oma’s.”

After lathering up my hands, I open the plastic soup container and pass it to him. He practically inhales the broth.

“You want to watch a movie or something?” I ask, taking the empty plastic container and setting it next to his pile of Harry Potters.

“I’m actually kinda tired.” He lies back down and pulls the covers up around his waist, then pats my knee. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? Tell me about your day?”

I go around to the other side of the bed, sweeping his tissues aside, and crawl in, but stay on top of the covers to avoid germs—karma could catch up with me. I lather up with the hand gel again, cozy up next to him, and rest a hand on his chest. He cradles my hand in his and shuts his eyes. With my other hand, I play with his hair. It’s gotten so long it nearly reaches his chin. Pretty soon he’ll look like Pepper.

“You should let me put little braids in your hair,” I tease.

“I’d look stupid.”

“You’d look sexy. My sexy shark.”

He shifts under my hand on his chest. “Don’t turn me on.” He laughs, but it turns into another cough. “I’m ill.”

“I figured a guy wouldn’t let a little cold get in the way of sexy times.”

“You’re right. I must be dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“Lesson number three: Guys always want it. Except for when they are dying.”

We lie curled up together talking until his mom comes home earlier than usual. She appears in the doorway, dressed in a black power suit and red skyscraper high heels, carrying a tray with a bowl and a book.

I pull my hand out from under his and sit up, smoothing my hair. Ms. Lucassen considers me for a long moment. She’s found us lounging on his bed listening to music and hanging out before, but never holding hands.

Levi’s eyes flutter open, and he says hi to his mom, who fusses over him like I did, feeling the temperature of his forehead and fluffing his blankets.

“I brought you some soup and the next book in that Raven series you’re reading,” she says, and he moans, “Not more soup,” but immediately digs into it.

“I should go,” I say, getting to my feet. “I still need to do homework.”

“See you Saturday at the meet,” Ms. Lucassen says.

Outside his room, I start down the stairs, but remember I left my gloves on his dresser. I am heading back up when I hear them talking.

“Is something going on with you and Maggie?” his mom asks.

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

How do moms always know?

“I care about her,” he says slowly.

“You both have a lot going on with swimming right now,” Ms. Lucassen replies. “I don’t want things to get complicated for you. You have trials in a few months.”

“Right. There’s nothing going on.”

I grab the staircase railing to hold myself up. He said nothing’s going on between us. As if these past few weeks of growing closer physically have meant nothing. His words feel like drowning.

But would I say anything different?