CHAPTER ELEVEN
About an hour later, chuckles echo from several of the guys. I lean over to peek at Lucca’s essay, but he covers his paper with his arm.
“Cheater!” Lucca yells at me in Italian and nudges me away.
I end up falling into Parker who just pushes me back against Lucca. Lucca nudges me again, and I go back and forth between the two a few times before I suddenly lean back. Unprepared, the boys end up knocking their heads together.
I giggle at both of them. “You should always be prepared.” While they’re still rubbing their heads, I jump up and grab Lucca’s paper.
Lucca leaps to his feet and chases me around the table. “Hey! Give that back to me. I’m not done yet.”
“I want to know what you were laughing about. That and I’m ready for a break. Who uses a pen and paper anymore?” I jump over a bench to try to get away, but he’s too fast. He grabs me from behind and hauls me up over his shoulder.
“You’re in trouble, now. How did you prepare for this scenario?” He laughs at me and walks toward the water.
“Lucca! You wouldn’t.” I drum my fists on his ass in panic. The paper crumples in my fist. “I’m still holding your paper! You’ll have to start again!”
“I don’t mind a pen and paper. Starting over won’t bother me.” Undeterred, Lucca keeps walking. “What are you going to do when you’re wet for the next several hours?”
At this point, we’re dangerously close to the water. I look up and see the other boys with their arms crossed, laughing at us. I didn’t even think to ask them for help.
“I’ll make sure you get wet, too. You just won’t know how I plan on doing it,” I threaten, knowing the only way to get him wet would be to hug him or sit on his lap. I’m good with both those possibilities.
As he steps up to the water’s edge, he changes his hold to cradled me in his arms. I can’t kick my way out of this. I’ll definitely end up in the water that way. He shifts, and I think he'll drop me, but he turns around and walks back up to the picnic table.
“Gotcha!” He winks at me as he puts me back on my feet. “If I were willing to hold Mindy in my arms, I’d throw her in the water, but I’m too nice to do that to you.”
“Yeah, right! I know you were just worried about your paper. Here you go, by the way.” I hand him back his essay as a form of truce, but I won’t forget about this. I just need to be sneaky about my revenge.
“What are you grinning at, missy?” Parker’s eyebrow rises. Maybe he can read minds. We’re all special in some way. Nah, that only happens in comics.
“Nothing.” I smile as sweetly as I can at him. I’ll make him sweat, too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I put my hand on his chest and look up at him. “You shouldn’t be so paranoid.” I then snatch his paper out of his hand and climb the nearest tree.
“Ha!” Noah points up at me. “We have a monkey on the team.”
“Now what are you going to do?” Parker asks as he sits back down on the picnic bench.
“I’m going to boycott until we can take a break.” I lean back against the trunk and close my eyes. “If I have your paper, you can’t work on it.”
“We are taking a break. So now that we’ve done that we can get back to work.” Parker throws back at me.
“I want to take a break and listen to your stories. We’ve spent a whole week together almost, and I don’t feel like I know any of you well.” I keep my eyes closed.
The more I think about it, though; the more serious I am. They’ve known each other for years, even if it was only for a few months at a time during the summer. I’m starting from scratch.
“You’re right.” Jay makes his way to the base of the tree. “Come on down, and let’s talk.”
Climbing about halfway down, his hands grip my hips, and just like that, I’m back on the ground.
I glance around at them. “Can we sit on the hammocks and talk? I promise not to fall asleep again.”
Nods of agreement come from everyone, and they abandon their writing to stand. As we make our way to the hammocks, I hand Parker back his paper, then reach up and run my fingers through his hair. “How’s your head?”
“I’ll live. This time.” Parker climbs into the hammock first, and I scoot over next to him. Jay climbs in on the other side of me.
Parker waits until the others settle in the hammock facing us before he asks, “Who goes first?”
“Well, since you asked, you get to.” I poke him in the side, then settle down. “Can we each tell two stories? I know we don’t have time for our entire background, but we should have time for two. We can do one sad, scary, or serious and one that’s funny or happy?” I didn’t mean for the last statement to be a question, but they all nod in agreement.
“Okay, here goes.” Parker stalls as he considers what he wants to say. “I was never a very active kid. I liked to read, play around on my computer, but my favorite pastime was science. I loved anything related to science. When the science fair came around, my experiment took up three tables.
“My teachers and parents were always complimenting me on my plans. For Christmas, birthdays, or whatever, I wanted chemistry sets or dissecting tools. I had no idea none of this was normal. I didn’t have many friends because I didn’t really think about it. I was always ready to start my next project.
“As I got older, my parents encouraged me to join some clubs. They knew better than to ask me to join any sports teams. In eighth grade, I started going to a few after-school clubs. I was lucky enough to make some great friends.” He smiles softly.
“By the time I made it to high school, I was involved in multiple science clubs and a few reading clubs. Because I wasn’t the most active person, I had become overweight. I was also much shorter than I am now. I might have been about five feet seven inches or so. I didn’t think much about it. My science friends accepted me, so I was happy with that.”
He still smiles, but his voice becomes quiet, a sure sign the rough part comes next. “My lab partner was really cute. She’d dyed her hair black, but it had pink highlights in it. She reminded me of one of the manga characters I liked. She was always extra friendly with me. When it came time for the Homecoming Dance, I decided to ask her. She said yes, which thrilled me to no end.”
He sounds sad now, and I want to tell him he doesn’t have to finish. Before I can, though, he picks up the story once more. “I had purchased the tickets, got a tux, and bought her a flower. We agreed to meet at the dance since neither of us could drive. We were going to meet over by the flagpole, so I asked my dad to drop me off at the door. I had gotten there early so I would be waiting for her when she showed up. About ten minutes later, she got out of a car and walked over to me. At first, I didn’t notice the guy behind her. She walked up to me and laughed.” Parker stops talking and takes a deep breath. I reach over and lace my fingers through his to let him knows he’s not alone.
Smiling at me, he continues. “Through her laughter, she said, ‘I didn’t think you’d show up. You really believed I would go to a dance with you? I doubt you could get five dance moves in before you collapsed. I was only ever nice to you because you were basically doing the chemistry homework for me. Loser.’ With that, she walked away and left me standing there.
“I sat down on the stone surrounding the flag and just cried. No one had ever been openly mean to me before. The rest of the year it got worse. I considered suicide, but Fallon was there for me. I’m surprised she didn’t go kick half the school’s ass for me.” The sadness fades from his voice as he talks about her; I’ll have to give Fallon a hug later for being a good sister.
“That summer, I grew four inches. That was also my first year here. My team lead was supportive and helped show me how the chemistry in food could work to my benefit. He took what I loved and used it to help me. Between the extra inches I grew, and my activity level that summer, I lost all the extra weight. I’ve grown about two more inches since then and not gained any back.” He finishes with pride in his voice.
I lean over and give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for sharing that with m—us,” I stumble, remembering we’re not alone. He looked at me or his hands through the entire story. “That was emotional, and we have three more to go.”
“Four! You have to share as well,” Jay reminds me.
“I was just counting the special people,” I joke. “You’re next.”
“I don’t want to hear any shit about you not being special.” He glares at me.
I’m glad he sits next to me because if his story’s as sad as Parker’s, I’m going to lose it.
Jay takes a deep breath as he thinks about what he is going to say. The muscle in his jaw flexes as he clenches and unclenches his teeth, wrestling with his inner demons as he decides if he wants to tell his story. With a sigh, he starts, “My dad’s a Navy SEAL, so we’ve lived all over the world but mostly in warmer climates. When I was nine, we moved to Colorado, so my dad could do a joint class with some other Special Forces units at the Air Force Academy.
“We weren’t used to the weather in Colorado, but we managed to get by. I was enjoying that year in school. I was able to hang out on campus and learn with some of the college students. My dad had me working out and taking martial arts lessons since the time I could walk. He taught me how to use lethal weapons as well as everyday objects as a self-defense means.
“All my weekdays were the same. I would take the bus to school, my mom would pick me up after-school and drop me off at the campus, I would do my homework in my dad’s office, and then I would spend the rest of the day working out and learning with his students. On weekends, my dad and I would go hunting, fishing, or hiking.” He tells the story in a flat tone like he’s detached himself from the story.
“We didn’t see my mom much. She was pregnant and didn’t want to go out in the cold if she didn’t have to, but she was happy sitting at home in front of the fire, reading her books.” A wistful smile graces Jay’s face temporarily before his expression goes blank again.
“One Saturday, my dad had to leave me to go work on campus. He didn’t want to take me with him because the work didn’t involve his students. I still wanted to go, though, so while he was saying bye to my mom, I snuck into the backseat of his car and hid where he couldn’t see me.” The muscles in Jay’s arms become hard as rocks as tension builds in his story. Just like with Parker, I want to tell him he can stop. I don’t hold his hand because he’d likely break my fingers with as tight as his muscles are.
He closes his eyes. “When my dad got to school, I snuck out of the car and ran to his office. There was a small hiding place between a chair and a couch that were pushed together. If I ran fast enough, I could make it there before him. When I heard the door open, I’m ducked low, and a woman’s laugh hits my ears. I couldn’t remember there being any female instructors on his rotation, so I tried to sit up slightly to take a peek at the situation.
“The girl was a student, but I didn’t recognize her from any of the classes I attended. She had her hand on my dad’s cheek, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I was too absorbed in what I realized was happening.”
Jay growls as he continues. “The girl leaned forward and kissed my dad. I was hoping he backed off her, but no, he kissed her back. Before I knew it, I jumped out and hit my dad in the face. I remember screaming at him, but not what I was saying. My dad grabbed me, spun me around, and sat me in the chair next to where I was hiding. The girl was screaming, and I was wishing I would’ve hit her to make her shut up.
“My dad asked her to leave the room, and he walked over to me. He didn’t touch me, but he knelt in front of me. He said, ‘I’m not sure how to feel right now. I’m guilty, you caught us. I’m mad you snuck out. I’m proud you would defend your mom. I don’t know what to do.’ I wasn’t sure what to do at this point.”
Sadness fills Jay’s voice, and I realize there’s more. “He told me he should have my mom come get me because I snuck out, and he would talk to my mom later, but he had to clear up the situation there before it got out of control. He promised he wouldn’t do anything else with the girl. He pulled out his cell phone and called my mom.”
Tears form in his eyes, but I’m not sure I want to hear what happens next.
“My mom never made it to the school. Her car hit a patch of ice then slid into a tree. I was told she and the baby died instantly.” His hands cover his face and he cries openly, now.
Not knowing what to say, I put my arms around him and just hold him as he whispers, “It’s all my fault she’s dead. If I hadn’t snuck out, she would still be with me, and I would have a baby brother.”
He puts his head on my shoulder, and I kiss his temple. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control the weather or the road conditions.” I plan to leave it at that, but I hear him blame himself again. “You’re not to blame. There was a series of horrible events which led up to that moment. You were only in control of a few of those. You have to let the guilt go, Jay. You’ll never be able to move on if you don’t.”
We sit like that for about ten minutes, and the rest of the guys clean tear tracks from their faces. Jay finally sits up, but his eyes remain distant with none of the usual sparks. He kisses the top of my head. “Thank you for listening to me.”
I give him a final squeeze. “I could tell you didn’t want to tell that story. I’m glad you did, though. Thank you.” After another minute, I speak up. “I’ll tell the next story. It’s more of the scary than sad kind.”
No one says anything so I go ahead. “I’ve lived in and out of foster homes all my life. The longest I’ve ever spent in one place is about six months. When I was twelve, I lived with this nasty couple that treated me like a maid and a babysitter. The creepy man would always brush against me, which made me uncomfortable.”
I realize they’re going to take this story in the wrong direction in their heads and try to get it back on track. “Whenever I could get out of the house, I would. I used to walk around the park and over to the school. On days when classes were available, I would hang out at the Rec Center. I used to love the Rec Center classes.
“One day, while I was at the park, a man grabbed me from behind. He told me not to scream, that he wasn’t going to hurt me. I didn’t believe him, but I panicked. This man was so much bigger than me, and I knew I couldn’t fight my way out. I worked on calming myself and thought of a way to get away. If I did something stupid, I’d get hurt.” Years later, I can still feel the strong arms around my chest and waist.
“He told me again that he wasn’t going to hurt me. He told me he needed me to listen carefully because he had something important to tell me. I let him think I was listening to him and relaxed a little. When he felt my tension lessen, he loosened his grip some. That’s when I bit his arm as hard as I could. He screamed and let go of me. Then, I took off.” I was pretty proud of myself for being able to do that. Suddenly, I remember something else about that day.
Jay leans into me. “He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He must have felt me stiffen from the memory.
“I know. I just remembered something. As I was running away, he yelled at me. ‘Be careful. They’re looking for you.’ I didn’t pick it up at the time because I was too excited to get away.” Now, another memory surfaces.
“Oh, my God! There’s no way!” I’m talking to myself out loud. The boys talk over themselves asking what’s wrong. “I didn’t end up staying with that family much longer. I complained enough about their treatment, so I was moved back to the orphanage for a short time. I was one of the few girls there at the time. They don’t like to keep kids there. Most of the time they have foster families available, but not for me.” I can’t believe I didn’t think about all this before, now.
“Anyway, I did the same thing there I did at the house. I spent time at the school, park, and Rec Center. I was paranoid about where I walked, though, because I didn’t want anyone to grab me again. One rainy day, I ended up back in the dorm room. I was by myself in there, doing my homework, when I heard a noise. Because of my paranoia, which I still have today, I ran into the bathroom. There was a window I could climb out of in there. After the man grabbed me, I made sure I always knew how to escape.” I shake a little, remembering the noises.
Jay and Parker each take one of my hands as I continue. “Even though I was scared, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t overreacting. I poked my head out of the bathroom quickly and saw two men I didn’t recognize. They were going to each room and checking them. I ran back into the bathroom and climbed out the window. I hid in the closest tree until I saw some of the caretakers return.”
“Did you say anything to anyone?” Lucca asks me. He’s been so quiet I almost forgot he was over there.
“No. I just thought it was my paranoia. It’s not normal to see people that don’t belong in there. I’m only remembering it now because I told you the story of the man I bit. Do you think he was talking about those men?” I worry I might have missed something, which I don’t normally do.
“I doubt it,” Noah says. “Do you remember anyone else trying to get you? I think the man was just trying to scare you into running back to him.”
“Maybe. I guess we’ll never know.” I sigh, trying not to worry about things I can’t change now.
“Okay, who’s next? I have to go sit over there now.” I climb over Parker and our hammock almost tips over before I stumble free and run over to the other one that holds Lucca and Noah.
“I’ll go,” Lucca says. He seems pretty quiet.
His story is going to make me cry, too. As I snuggle between Noah and Lucca, the hammock swings gently.
Lucca drags his hand across the grass as he starts. “After my parents retired from their first professions, they both started their own companies. I was four and rarely saw them. We lived in Naples in a beautiful home on the coast. I used to walk down by the Tyrrhenian Sea daily. No one paid much attention to me because I was so quiet.
“We had nannies and maids, cooks and gardeners, but everyone assumed I was with someone else. By the time I was five, I had become creative about where I went and what I would do. There was an old widower who lived near us, and I used to go over there several times a week to help him with his garden, lawn, and any other tasks he needed help doing.”
He smiles as he remembers the old man. “I was curious about everything. He was patient with me and would explain each thing. One day when I was over there, his lawn mower stopped working. He and I sat on the ground with the lawn mower tilted on its side trying to figure out how to fix it. He wouldn’t let me touch it, though, because he didn’t want me to cut my hand on one of the blades. He tinkered with several things, but nothing worked. He left to go get some tools from inside his garage. While he was gone, I played with a few things that looked wrong to me, then I turned the lawn mower upright, pulled the cord, and it started. The man came running out to see I had fixed the mower for him.”
Lucca’s eyes unfocus as if he’s seeing the story unfold before him. “The old man was so excited by what I’d done without him that he started showing me how to fix other things. We would change the oil and tires on his car. We built cabinets for his kitchen. When his water heater went out, I helped him change it. I felt there was nothing I couldn’t do when I was with him.
“I spent every day for the next year at his house. No one at home even realized I wasn’t around. As long as I showed up for dinner, no one thought anything about it. That winter, we spent two months at my maternal grandmother’s home in Brazil. She played with me while we were there. She showed me how to cook. I fixed her sewing machine for her, and she made me some clothes. She told me I could be a model like my madre.”
He still smiles, so this was a happy time. I hope it stays that way.
“When we went home to Naples, I went the next day to see the old man. I knocked and there was no one home. I went every day, and still, no one was home. His grass started getting long and weeds were taking over his garden. I straightened everything up for him. The old man wouldn’t like his yard overgrown. After about two weeks, there was still no sign of him, but another man showed up. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him the old man who lived there was my friend and wouldn’t like his yard to become ugly. The other man started to cry and said, ‘I’m sorry, son, but my father passed away. He was very ill. He talked about you a lot, though. He said you were a good helper. I can see that was true.’ I cried because I lost the only friend that I ever had.”
Lucca eyes well up with tears. “I went home and tried to tell my padre what happened, but he just patted me on the head and said he was sorry. I felt even more alone then I had before.”
Lucca stops for a minute. I assume he finished, but he continues. “I had just turned six and was about to start school. Both my parents left for about two weeks and were due back that evening. They missed my birthday. They didn’t even call me. When I saw them, they just smiled and went into their offices. I didn’t even get a hello. I’d had enough, so I grabbed a few things from my room and ran away. The old man’s house hadn’t been sold yet, so I broke into his garage. I stayed there for almost three weeks. I managed to eat from his garden, and since the water was still on, I drank from his hose.
“I didn’t care I had missed the first part of school, but the school did. The school called my parents looking for me. They didn’t know where to find me. The old man’s son was a teacher at the school. One afternoon, he showed up looking for me. We talked. He promised I wouldn’t get in trouble when I told him I’d been staying there. He took me to the police who called my parents. Because my parents are so influential in the area, nothing happened to them or me. I went back to school like nothing ever happened.” The tears roll down his face. I don’t think he’ll crush my hand, so I link my fingers through his and squeeze. He glances over at me and smiles.
“Just like Parker, this camp was my life saver. I’ve found people I can’t live without because they saw me for me and not the son of wealthy business owners and former models and footballers.” He squeezes my hand once more as he looks around. “Thank you all for being my friend.”
I give him a hug. “Thank you for letting me.”
After we all calm down, I look over at Noah with a smile. “Are you going to make me cry, too? I’m going to have to start wiping my face on your shirt.”
“I hope I don’t make you cry. We’ve all survived many things to get where we are today, to be who we are today. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere different with anyone different.” He gives me a quick hug before he begins his story.
“My dad worked third shift, and we only had one car. Each night, my mom kept me up to drive my dad to work. We did this for years. I enjoyed taking my dad to work because I like the nighttime. It always seems so peaceful. One night, when I was seven, a drunk driver struck our car. It was only Mom and me in the car at the time.”
Oh no, this story’s going to end up like Jay’s.
“The drunk driver’s car hit on my side of the car, almost directly into my door. I don’t remember any of this, so I can only give you details on things I was told. I ended up in the hospital. They put me in a medically induced coma to help with the swelling in my brain and spine. They needed to keep me still because, based on their initial findings, my back was broken in several places, and I had head trauma. I also had several broken bones.”
Shocked, I check him over and make sure everything’s all there. I don’t spot any visible scars.
“I was in a full body cast when they finally pulled me out of the coma. I wasn’t in any pain, though, because I had no feeling in any of my limbs. I’d been paralyzed below the neck. My mother was there when I woke up, so I knew there was nothing wrong with her. She’d lost weight, though, from the stress of being with me in the hospital. She was also mad there were no serious injuries to the drunk driver. He was able to walk away.”
I can understand why he told me I wouldn’t be sad since clearly, he’s no longer paralyzed. But his story makes me wonder if he’s the bionic man.
“It was months before I was out of the hospital. My mom was there every day with me, and my dad was there as often as he could be. My mom helped me keep up with my schoolwork and did my rehab with me as I started regaining feeling in my fingers. It looked like I’d be able to use my hands, but there was less than a ten percent chance I would walk again.” He looks at his hands as if he needs to make sure he can still use them as he continues his story.
“I had full use of my hands by the time I could go home, but I still couldn’t walk. Several people from our community helped my parents retrofit the house, so I could use my wheelchair in there. I was determined to walk again even before my legs started to regain feeling, though. It was slow going. I wasn’t allowed to push myself too hard because the doctors were worried I would re-injure myself. When I wasn’t working on my rehab, I was on my computer. I learned as much as I could about computers. I started writing code. I learned how to hack. I wrote some software. Anything I could find to do with computers, I did.”
His chest puffs out with pride at his accomplishments. Each of the boys’ stories—although they were sad—explain the strengths they bring to our team.
“It took me almost two years, but I was able to start walking again. I kept pushing until I could run. Now, I try to make the most of every day. I will never let anything stop me or anyone tell me I can’t do something. Had I listened to the doctors, I would be sitting in a wheelchair sad and miserable.” He leans over to me and gives me a hug.
“I’m so glad you didn’t let them stop you.” I hug him back. “Now, we need to do the happy, funny stories, so we can get in a good mood for tonight. If not, I’ll start singing Pharrell’s Happy to all of you. But first”—I raise my arms above my head with a groan—“let’s get up and stretch real quick.”
“Good idea. While we break, we can do our last task,” Parker suggests, but he refuses to look at me. He knows I don’t want to do it.
“You’ll have to do it without me.” Climbing out of the hammock, I walk away from him.
Lucca lunges to block my path before I can pass, stopping me from leaving. “We can’t do a trust exercise without you. Why don’t you want to do it?”
“How am I supposed to do a trust fall with you guys? I have no doubt you guys will catch me. We don’t even need all of you to do that, though. You’re all almost a foot taller than me, though.” My throat tightens and prickles fill my eyes. “I won’t be able to lock arms with you in a safe place to make a sturdy landing. I don’t want to be the reason one of you gets hurt.” Tears slip down my cheeks. The stories had me going already, but the thought of me being the one to hurt one of them crushes me. “I can’t do it.”
Lucca locks his arms around me. “We’ll make sure everyone’s safe. I promise.”
I stare up at him. “How?”
He wipes the tears off my face. “We’ll have you stand on something that will put you at the same height as the person across from you. We’ll put you closer to the person falling, so you’ll catch his legs while the other two of us catch the upper body, which is heavier. We can make this work.”
Lucca makes a good argument. But I want to see this setup before I agree. “Okay, Mr. Fix-it, show me your plan in motion. Then, I may agree.”
He grabs my hand and walks us over to the picnic table. “Noah, come stand opposite Cassie. We’ll use you opposite her so we don’t have to switch out what she’s going to stand on.”
Noah walks over to stand next to me. Lucca eyes the height differences and walks over to some rocks close to the lake. He yells for Jay, and each of them brings back a rock. We only need the larger of the two, though. He sets it up, and I stand on it. Worried about stability, I wiggle my butt to make sure it stays in place, and laughter comes from behind me.
“Stop laughing at my non-existent butt!” I yell at them over my shoulder.
“Ha! Parker, up on the table, you can go first,” Lucca directs.
I hold my arms out to Noah and curl my fingers around his forearms in a death grip. Parker counts down and falls backward into our arms. They hold.
We put Parker down, and I jump around chanting, “We did it!”
“Of course, we did, because we trust each other.” Parker takes Jay’s place.
Each turn is successful, including mine.
With the completion of the trust fall, all six of our tasks for the week are checked off. It makes me feel good, the perfect mood for happy stories. “Okay, kids, back to story time.”
This time we sit on top of the picnic table so we can all sit together.
Parker goes first again. “When I was about ten, we went on a family vacation to the Grand Canyon. My parents decided to take the scenic route, which was the most boring time of my life. Fallon and I were stuck in the backseat of my mom’s mini-van for hours. On day two of the trip, I was in desperate need of something to do. Fallon was ignoring me. She always seemed to have a book in her hand, or she was writing something.” He rolls his eyes at the memory.
“By the time we were in New Mexico, I had enough so I started singing. At first, I was making up songs, but then I moved to singing along with my iPod. Both were irritating Fallon because she couldn’t concentrate on her reading.” He laughs, poor Fallon.
“I like all sorts of music. I downloaded a bunch of miscellaneous, free songs. I listened to one and used it to torment Fallon.” His eyes glow, fully in the moment of his story.
“What song was it?” I ask. “Sing it for me.”
The other boys groan but smile at the same time. They most know this story already.
“You asked for it. It has to be sung in a proper, fake Cockney accent.” With that, Parker starts to sing and the others join in immediately.
After they run through the chorus three time, I put my hand over Parker’s mouth. “Okay, okay. I get it. Poor Fallon,” I say through my giggles.
“Oh, it was even worse because I kept going, and my dad joined in. The song only had the ‘second verse, same as the first’ line, but we must have done it a hundred times. Fallon was so mad she wouldn’t talk to us that night.” He laughs hard enough to clutch his stomach.
I poke him in the side. “I loved your story, but you better never sing a hundred verses of that to me.” An evil grin spreads across his face, and I backpedal quickly. “Let me clarify and say no more than five verses.”
“You’re no fun.” He pokes me back as he glances around. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll go. Mine’s short,” I tell him. “When I was fourteen, my foster sister, Mia, wanted to hear a local band perform for free at a party in the park. Since the park was only a few blocks from our house, we had permission to go.
“Mia was seventeen. She had a huge crush on the bass player, who was nineteen. She wanted to wait for them after the concert. I agreed, and we waited off to the side for them to pack up.” I suppress my laughter as my brain jumps ahead of my storytelling.
“She wanted to watch for them, so my back was to where they come out. I was talking to her about this puppy I’d seen earlier that week. I was being animated, and she didn’t notice them walking out. They also didn’t notice us standing there. While I was talking, I threw my hands back and smacked the bass player in the face.” The laughter escapes, and I struggle to regain enough control to finish the story.
“I spun around and saw the guy leaning over, holding his nose. His bandmates were laughing behind him about how he let a little girl take him out. I leaned over and saw that his nose was bleeding. I couldn’t apologize enough. He assured me that it was fine, but before I could say anything else, Mia walked over and put her arm around him. She checked out his face and told him we didn’t live far. They walked with us back to our house, and Mia fixed him up. They started dating right after that, and the last I heard, they’re getting married next summer.” It’s hard to believe my nearly breaking someone’s nose could bring two people together.
“Okay, Lucca. You’re up.” I grin at him.
“Mine’s a quick one, too. So, you all know my padre was a professional footballer. My madre would take me to every game when I was little.” At least his mom paid attention to him when he was little, not that four isn’t little.
“I don’t remember any of this, but I’ve seen the video. My parents have also told this story hundreds of times. During one practice, we happened to be there. I remember liking to kick around the ball. I didn’t like clothes. I used to take mine off any chance I got. No one actually saw this part, but I ended up taking off all my clothes. I was three, mind you, so I didn’t care who saw me naked. Can’t say much has changed there.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I close my eyes. Bad idea. Now, I picture hot, tanned, Italian muscles standing in front of me.
“After taking all my clothes off, I end up running onto the field to try and kick the ball. We only know this because I yell ‘Ball!’ over and over. This is the part that was caught on camera. I was dodging around people who were only halfheartedly trying to catch me because they were laughing so hard. Finally, the goalie caught me.” A chuckle escapes, and Lucca tries to control himself. “He ended up lifting me up really high. It was something they all used to do with me. They would swing me around when they played with me. This time, though, I ended up peeing in his face. He had enough sense not to drop me.” At this point, Lucca laughs so hard he can barely talk.
I peer over at Noah. “Can you find that footage?”
Noah nods and winks at me.
“Poor guy,” I add, thinking about what it would be like to have someone pee in your face.
“He thought it was funny. He didn’t pick me up for a long time after that, though.” Lucca laughs again.
“Jay, it’s all you.” I point at him.
Jay starts. “I was out hunting with my dad and my uncle one day. My uncle had just purchased a new rifle, and he wanted to try it—”
“Wait!” I interrupt him. “Your funny story starts out about a rifle?”
“It gets better,” he reassures before continuing. “My uncle is a terrible shot. My dad tried to convince him not to buy a rifle, but he looked up to my dad so much for being a SEAL he bought it anyway.
“My dad didn’t want him going out by himself, so he made my uncle promise to wait until we could visit. The day after we got there, he wanted to go out. My dad insisted on taking me with them because he was worried my uncle would get hurt, and someone would have to go get help while the other person stayed with my uncle.”
His poor uncle. At least, he tried.
“We walked about a mile and a half, maybe two miles, before we stopped and looked for a good place to rest. My dad didn’t want to go too far out, because if someone did get hurt, we wouldn’t be in a bad spot to be rescued. At this point, my uncle wanted to take out the rifle and show my dad the features from the scope to the barrel. My uncle started to look down the barrel, and my dad jerked the thing out of his hands before he shot himself, which made my uncle mad. He started yelling at my dad.”
I’m horrified on his father’s behalf. It’s obvious this uncle hasn’t hunted much if he doesn’t know gun safety rules.
“My dad stayed calm and pointed to a tree about twenty yards away. He said to my uncle ‘Are you sure it isn’t loaded?’ and shot a hole in one of the leaves on that tree. My uncle stared for a second and then stared down at himself. He had shit his pants.” Jay delivered that last part with such a straight face it takes me a second to register what he said.
“What is it with you guys and stories about excrement? Yuck!” I shake my head at the thought of it.
“It’s your turn, Noah. No bathroom stories,” I warn him.
“I’ll try.” He smirks.
I’m going to end up with another bathroom story. I just know it.
“So, I got bored a lot when I couldn’t walk. You already know I spent most of my time on my computer. I started back to school. They let me keep my laptop with me even though no one else had one.
“One rainy day, the lights at school flickered because of a storm. The storm finally passed, and the lights went back to normal. I decided to mess with them, though. I hacked into the school’s electric panel, as well as the intercom system. At first, I just made the lights go off and on, or I made the intercom buzz for no reason. I did this quite a few times during the day.”
I eagerly scoot to the edge of the table. Oh, what did he have planned for his school?
“That amused me for a while, but I wanted to try something else. I started making the lights go off in patterns. People started whispering that the place was haunted. I did this for about another hour. Right before the end of the day, I made the lights go crazy, and I played the theme song to Close Encounters of the Third Kind over the intercom. I finally matched the light pattern to the music.” He hums the tune. “They never did find out it was me. For days, everyone was sure there were ghosts or aliens walking among us.”
“That was great!” Impressed, I make a mental note to check with him when weird things happen to make sure he’s not behind it. “It’s a good thing we made up stories. If someone stole our essays, they would know a lot about us. At least, they would know a lot about you guys,” I add, realizing I didn’t tell them much about my capabilities.
“We’ll all know soon enough, monkey.” Parker hops off the table. As we trek back up the mountain, he reminds us, “We need to get back and get ready for the party tonight. Remember to wear white or light clothes.”