Joie

 

Just as I was about to give up on Cole ever answering his door, it swung open. Seeing him in sweats and a Cambridge High t-shirt almost made me smile. Had I called that, or what? I didn’t smile though. Instead, I stood, rooted to the carpet outside his room, intimidated by the cold, impassive expression on his face, trying not to be affected by the scent of him washing over me.

“Hey.” I wanted to roll my eyes at myself but refrained. My first words to the boy in years and I open with ‘hey’?

“Hey,” he replied, not giving an inch. I expected no less. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Can I come in?” I gestured to his room.

Cole didn’t answer for a moment, just continued to stare, his clear blue gaze piercing my armor against my will. I would need to shore up my defenses- and quick. I pushed my thick-rimmed glasses up the slick bridge of my nose. They slid back down.

Cole’s lip twitched, and his eyes sparked with the first sign of emotion I’d seen since that day. I fought the urge to remove my glasses and wipe them and my nose with the cuff of my sleeve. I lifted one brow, challenging.

He let out a long sigh. “Yeah, come on in.” He opened the door wide and stepped to one side allowing me to pass through the opening.

Emotions slammed through me as I crossed the threshold. Joy. Pain. Nostalgia- bittersweet memories. The ache of missing this place- missing him- threatened to crush me right where I stood. I didn’t know if I could do this. I wanted to run. My gaze darted around the room, trying to find a safe place to land.

Ohhhh…

Without thought, I approached, like I was stuck in a tractor beam, unable to correct my course, even though I knew I should. Reaching out, my fingers almost brushed the glass protecting the worn photo. He cleared his throat behind me and my hand dropped to my side. Why did he have it?

Tearing my gaze away, I turned to face him. Cole stood, frowning, his arms crossed over his chest. I couldn’t help but notice the changes to his body since the last time I’d been this close. Back then, I’d seen the promise of the man he was quickly becoming. He’d always been strong, lean. But now, his body bulged with muscles, his veins pulsing close to his skin, not an ounce of fat hiding them. He’d grown taller, too. We hadn’t been the same height since fifth grade, but now he towered over me. His handsome face, which used to light with a mischievous smile whenever he saw me, was tense, his jaw muscles clenched.

I swallowed hard. “You’ve changed things around.” Stupid! I had more important things to discuss with him than the arrangement of his bedroom. But suddenly, the changes seemed significant. Like the placement of his bed against the opposite wall from where it had been and the desk’s new position by the door were symbols of the changes in our relationship. Even the Star Wars bedspread had been replaced by a crimson and navy comforter. I missed Darth Vader’s mask.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” I blinked a few times- hard! This was worse than I thought it would be. I wasn’t sure I could do this. If Cole agreed to my plan, we would have to spend time together. I would have to spend time with him. It would be the second hardest thing I’d ever have to do. Leaving him had been the first.

“What are you doing here, Jo?” He sat on the edge of his desk.

I turned away. The sound of his voice, combined with the smell of him and- Jo. My body felt how it did when I was sick with a fever, achy and hot. Like if anyone touched my skin, it would be the most painful thing. And then I saw it, the thing I needed to be reminded of- why I was here in the first place. Out his window- my house.

I took a deep breath. “I need your help, Cole.”

He sniggered, the sound so derisive. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Shaking myself, I added a few more bricks to my defenses. I could do this. I had to do this. I cloaked myself with the professionalism I’d learned working as an assistant in the office of a local realtor. It was a perfect job for me. Fake smiles. Feigned happiness. Masks. Plus, between answering phone calls, I was able to work on my writing. Thrusting my emotions aside, I faced Cole.

“Not kidding. And you owe me.” It was low, calling in an old debt, especially after...everything. But it was true, he did owe me.

Cole came up off the edge of the desk. In one stride, he was so close I felt the heat from his body through the thin fabric of my long-sleeved tee. His breaths- short, harsh bursts- sent loose tendrils of hair to tickling my forehead. I wanted to take a step back. I didn’t.

His blue eyes searched mine. I hid nothing. I couldn’t anyway. Cole already knew it all. Well, almost.

“You promised, Cole.” Nothing could stop me, not my pride. Not even my remorse. “You’ve never broken a promise.”

“Unlike you.” The venom in his voice hit its mark, piercing my armor just a bit.

“Yes. Unlike me. You’ve always been better than me, Cole. We both know it.”

Something flickered in his eyes and I knew without him saying anything that he wanted to refute my claim, but he didn’t. His gaze held mine for a moment more.

“Talk.” He finally broke away, flopping down on his bed. He stretched out, crossing his ankles and lacing his fingers behind his head on his pillow, staring at the ceiling.

I sat in his desk chair. “I need you to star in my play.” No sense beating around the bush. Cole’s eyes bulged, and his jaw fell slack.

I rushed on. “It will be the first dramatic production in more than a decade at the school. I’m reviving the Drama Club.”

Cole rolled until he sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows propped on his thighs as he leaned over.

“You. Are. Crazy.” He enunciated each word, his voice growing louder.

I knew that. But I still needed him. “It’s my play. I wrote it.” I didn’t tell him that I’d written the male lead with him in mind, knowing I would someday be here, asking him to do this. “You’re the only one that can do this, Cole.”

“Why? Why me?”

“I need a celebrity-”

Cole sat back, scoffing.

“No. I mean it. You’re freaking immune. You can do anything and everyone will think it’s cool. You’re the only guy in school that could pull this off and make my play a success. Just your name on the program will pack the auditorium and you know I’m right.” I watched the wheels turn in his head as he pondered my words.

“Look, if you agree to this, the rest will follow. Tryouts will be packed with girls wanting to get close to you and guys who want to be as cool as you. Even if you sucked, and we both know you won’t, it wouldn’t matter. They would show up anyway.” Stroking his ego was one strategy.

Cole folded his arms across his chest, watching me through narrowed eyes. “What do I get out of this? I can get girls without it and I have all the friends I need.”

So much for the ego tactic. “Humble much?”

He barked out a laugh. “You just said the same thing.” His eyes were on me again. It was just like before. Like he could see right through me. I hated it.

“Stop that.”

He pulled back his chin. “Stop what?”

Turning away, I paced the small patch of carpet beside his bed. “That thing you do. Trying to figure me out.”

Cole snorted. “Believe me, if I could figure you out things would be a lot different.”

I pulled up short, pinning him with a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. What happened to your contacts?” He gestured to my face just as I pushed my glasses back up my nose for the fifth time since entering his room, lifting them just a bit to swipe my nose with my sleeve.

“I don’t like them,” I answered, averting my gaze when his became too intense. No matter what he thought, he’d always been able to read me and that was exactly what I didn’t need- Cole digging too deep. Cole digging at all.

“Why are you doing this, Jo? Why’s it so important?” He suddenly looked exhausted.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? You owe me, remember?” It was petty to keep bringing that up. The debt was a weak reason and we both knew it. But I was counting on our history- the before history- to mean something to him. Preying on his sense of loyalty to the friendship we once shared.

“I owe you for some grade school pact, huh?” Cole rose to his feet, his six-foot three frame imposing in the small space. His brow furrowed between his blue eyes and as much as I wanted to look away from them, I couldn’t. It hurt. He hurt. I hurt. It was plain in the depths hidden beneath layers of masks we both wore. “What about the last three years, Jo? I’m just supposed to forget about that?”

I shook my head. “We aren’t going to talk about that.”

He scoffed, whirling away from me. “You gotta give me more than that. A ten-year-old pact isn’t enough right now. Basketball’s almost over and then I start training. The football scholarship is only good as long as I keep my grades up. I can’t afford to screw around.”

I bit my lip. This was one thing I knew would come up. Doing my play would be a huge sacrifice for Cole, but I still needed him. “We won’t start rehearsals until after basketball. I just need an agreement that you will play the male lead so I can start auditions for the other roles and get started on sets and costumes. I’ll plan rehearsals around you if I have to.”

“You still haven’t answered why.” He watched closely.

Against my will, I glanced at my house, out his window. Of course, he noticed. His face turned to stone. The only sign he wasn’t actually carved from the stuff was a slight tick in his jaw. It was time to beg.

“You can do this, Cole. You are perfect for the role. I wrote it for you.” I decided to pull out the big guns. “No one knows how talented you really are. This could be so amazing.” I laid it on thick, my voice soft, appealing.

His chin dropped to his chest and hope bloomed. He was thinking about it. The war raged within, but at least he was thinking about it.

“Please. I need this. I have to have it to get out-” I bit my lip to keep from saying more, but it was too late. Cole’s gaze snapped to mine.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I mean, this play- it’s part of my audition for school. So, I can go to USC in the fall.” Hopefully that would be enough.

“No. That’s not what I was asking.” His eyes flicked to the window, his jaw hardening once more. “Jo-”

“Everything is fine, Cole.” I didn’t need his pity. I didn’t need him to save me. Well, I did, just not the way he was thinking.

I tried not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze and prayed he couldn’t see what laid beneath.

For a long moment, he stared out the window. I wished I knew what he was thinking.  I wished I didn’t know what he was thinking. I wondered if he’d forgotten. I wished I could. Finally, he relented. His shoulders drooped, a gasp of air escaping his lips as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I’ll do it-”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Before I knew what was happening, I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

 

Cole

 

Shocked, I did the only thing I could do, I fought my way out of the surprised stupor her impetuous hug inflicted and let my arms snake around her waist. I didn’t know how long it would be before she realized what she had done and pulled away from me. I wasn’t about to squander this opportunity.

Instinctively, I inhaled. She still smelled the same, like coconut. Memories assaulted me, flashing before my eyes like those old-time cartoons, one page at a time. Memories from before she pushed me away. Swimming in a plastic pool in my backyard. Reading Harry Potter by flashlight during sleepovers when we were supposed to be sleeping. Holding her close when she cried, before I even understood what was wrong. Tickle fights near the end when things would slow, sticky like syrup, until I finally worked up the courage to kiss her.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, pushing away from me.

Right.

That wasn’t us anymore.

Now we were nothing. Not friends. Not together. Barely neighbors. With a sigh, I backed away from her and ran my hand through my hair. I wanted to pull it out. I wanted to make her talk to me. But I knew from painful experience, Joie wouldn’t tell me anything she wasn’t ready to tell me. I picked up my Calculus book and paper and pencil. She needed to leave.

She fidgeted with her hands, a sure sign she was nervous. Not my fault. She shouldn’t have hugged me like that. It wasn’t fair.

“I should go.” She stepped toward the door, her hand reaching for the knob. “You’ll really do it? You won’t back out?”

“I’ll do it,” I replied, not taking my eyes off the page in front of me I couldn’t even see, not understanding why I was agreeing. I only knew, even now, I would do anything for her. She nodded, the movement visible out of the corner of my eye.

“Thank you.”

And then she was gone.