Forever Blue Read online

  After about a minute or so, I made it into my house unnoticed. Silence greeted me, along with a plate of chocolate chip cookies that Mom surprisingly left on the kitchen table. An accompanying note read: Went to the store. Be back soon. Enjoy! I breathed in the scent of freshly baked goods, grabbed a couple off the plate, and headed to my bedroom.

  My bedroom window overlooked the front of the new neighbor’s house, so I resumed my surveillance of the two boys. The older boy was drenched in sweat, making his way to and from the garage. He wore off-white basketball shorts and a navy-blue shirt. The younger boy dribbling a basketball on the driveway was his spitting image.

  A bleach-blonde woman joined the two boys. Her cancerously tanned skin looked almost black and when she spoke, chills ran down my spine. “Stop fooling around, you two! Finish unloading the car! Put that basketball away before I deflate the thing!” She barked orders like some kind of drill sergeant.

  I turned my attention back to the older boy once she was out of sight. As though he knew I was watching him, he glanced in my direction and in response I ducked. Feeling foolish, I thought, Great. Now our new neighbors think I’m some kind of snoop or a weird spying freak or something. I didn’t so much as flinch until I heard the rumble of the moving truck. When I finally felt it safe to peep out the window, both boys had disappeared.

  ***

  The oppressive heat wave continued the next afternoon. It became way too muggy for me to do any type of physical activity outside, so I sat on my front porch and sulked. Luckily, I had something to keep my mind occupied: The older boy happened to be shooting hoops on his driveway. I sat watching in wonder, drinking in his agile, boyish form. He dribbled and shot baskets for two hours straight in the sweltering heat. Call me crazy, but I’d only discovered this boy less than twenty-four hours earlier, and was already highly fascinated. I wanted to get to know him, but afraid he’d be just like the rest of them. God, I would have done anything just to talk to somebody by age, but the one thing I couldn’t do was risk facing any further rejection. I had enough for one year. I figured it best just to keep to myself.

  My thoughts were cut off at the sight of a basketball rolling to my feet. My heart thudded against my chest as I retrieved the ball. I placed my trembling hands on the orange, bumpy, rubber. This is my chance, I tried to tell myself, but I was unsure of my next move. He jogged toward me. I almost panicked at the sight of him.

  “Sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic smile. “The ball just got away from me.” The way his shaggy hair nearly covered both of his eyes was kind of cute.

  “It’s no problem,” I said, handing the ball back to him. I was certain he would just take it and be on his merry way.

  “I’m Carter, by the way. We just moved in yesterday.” He reached out to shake my hand, and I think I almost stopped breathing.

  I lightly grasped his fingers, which were slick with sweat. “I’m—I’m Alexa,” my voice cracked.

  A long pause ensued, during which I guess neither of us knew exactly what to say. If I didn’t speak up, I would blow my chance of befriending this boy. I couldn’t get the words to move past my lips as hard I tried. I kept hearing Lindsay Wells’ cackle in my head, telling me how foolish I was for believing he could be different, for thinking he would possibly accept me.

  “I guess I’ll see ya around. Nice meeting you,” he said.

  I watched him trek down the driveway. If I needed friends so badly, I just couldn’t let him walk away, I scolded myself. It was do or die time. Either I acted on my impulses or faced another year of torture.

  “Hey! Are you any good at a game of one-on-one?” I asked as my heart pounded in my ears.

  He stopped in the middle of the street, quickly turning around at the sound of my voice. “Yeah, I’m all right. Why?”

  Dad taught me everything about basketball. I excelled in the sport and it was the one thing I felt confident in. “All right, huh? I bet I could kick your butt.”

  “Oh yeah?” He stiffened as though unsure of himself. After a brief hesitation, he threw me the ball. “You’re on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  I jogged across the street, dribbling the ball in front of me. A few feet away from his hoop, I asked, “Ready?”

  “More than I’ll ever be,” Carter said, positioning himself in front of me with his game face on.

  I tightened my grasp around the ball, shifting it left, right, up, and down. Carter tried to block my shot. I noticed a playful flicker in his vivid blue eyes whenever his sweaty blond bangs swept out of his face.

  The sound of our shoes scuffing and squeaking against the hot pavement threatened to distract me. My lungs were on fire, but I was able to dodge him and make a shot from the free-throw line. The ball swished effortlessly through the hoop.

  “Oh yeah!” I shouted in victory.

  Carter moved slowly across the driveway, taking several heavy breaths. “Lucky shot.”

  “You think so, huh?”

  “Yeah, but you won’t be so lucky next time.”

  “Whatever,” I said, enthralled by the fervent expression that washed across his face. I tossed him the ball, knowing he was ready for more. “That’s three-zero.”

  Carter wasn’t going to give up without a good fight. He artfully stole the ball, made a shot, and then proceeded directly to his bragging rights. But I nearly always bounced back (pardon the pun), making a three-pointer that would put me in the lead. We battled it out until our muscles ached and blisters had sprouted from the palms of our sweaty hands.

  A feverish tinge had brightened Carter’s cheeks. “Wow,” he said, gasping for breath. “You’re pretty good.”

  “I play a lot with my dad.” I continued working off my exhaustion by dribbling the ball around in a circle. “He taught me how to play.”

  “You actually make those shots look easy.”

  “Do you ever play with your brother?”

  “Darren? Nah. He’s only eight and he’d rather play video games.”

  Carter’s mother suddenly appeared in the driveway, as if on cue to spoil our perfect moment. Her hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail and she wore an ill-fitting denim jumper. The latest gossip magazine was rolled up in her hand.

  “Carter, did you forget that you have a three o’clock audition today?” she asked with a slight but noticeable tone of disgust oozing from her voice.

  I witnessed Carter instantly morph from a free-spirited kid to the submissive son. His eyes went flat and dispassionate, as though this woman was a total stranger to him. “No, Mom,” he replied timidly.

  His mother’s expression turned positively peevish. She placed one hand on her hip, and stared Carter down. “Well, what are you doing fooling around? You can’t go to an audition sweating like a pig. You have ten minutes to get your act together. Then your ass better be in that damn car!” She strolled back into the house, not bothering to acknowledge my presence. Truthfully, I wasn’t that keen on meeting her in the first place.

  “Audition?” I asked curiously.

  “Oh, yeah.” Carter’s gaze shifted toward the ground in what I assumed was embarrassment for his mother’s behavior. “There’s an open casting call for a cereal commercial this afternoon. I have to try out.”

  I glanced at my new friend intently through the blinding sunlight. “You’re an actor?”

  “I guess.” He used his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “I’ve been in commercials here and there since I was, like, three.”

  “Wow. On TV and everything? That’s really cool.”

  “Yeah, it’s fun I guess,” he said with an awkward smile. “I have to go. If my mom comes out here again, she’ll be even more pissed. See ya around.”

  “Good luck,” I said, waving him off.

  I watched the green station wagon pull out of their driveway from my living room window. In all my years, I never met anyone quite as interesting as this boy. An actor right next door! Wow! A spark of hope lifted up inside me. T
his summer, I hope to make some new friends…

  ***

  I waited with great anticipation the next day for Carter to come out of his house. As eager as I was, I couldn’t shake an unwelcome image of Carter’s mother with that contorted, irate look upon her face. Come to find out, Mom went to introduce herself the day they moved in. It didn’t surprise me that Mary Storm was unresponsive to her neighborly welcome. Mary accepted the green bean casserole that Mom generously prepared for them and then more or less shooed her away.

  Even with the weather at 100 degrees in the shade that afternoon, Carter made an effort to shoot baskets. Eventually the breezeless heat got to him, and he plopped himself down on the sidewalk. His hair asymmetrically fell in front of his face every time he tossed the ball in the air.

  I got on my bike and shot down the driveway, knowing it was now or never. “Are you bored?” I asked as I slowly pedaled past him.

  He looked intensely uncomfortable. “Sort of.”

  I parked my bike and sat on the curb next to him, relieved that the awkwardness between us had evaporated. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Irvine is a pretty boring city. I oughtta know. I’ve lived here all my life.”

  He squinted at me through the intense sunlight and said, “This neighborhood is like a ghost town.”

  “Welcome to my world,” I replied with a smirk.

  A flicker of reaction crossed his face, but before I could decipher it, he looked down and dribbled the ball lightly between his legs. “I hope school isn’t this boring.”

  “Which one are you going to?”

  “Beckman Junior High.”

  “Really? I go there,” I said. “I’ll be in eighth grade.”

  “Me too.”

  My heart kicked up with hope. “Well, at least you’ll know me.”

  Carter wiped the perspiration off his forehead with his arm. “It’s too hot to be outside,” he announced. “I think I’m going to go play video games or something.” He peeled himself off the pavement and asked, “So, um—you want to play?”

  I couldn’t think of anything in the world I’d rather do more.

  Nothing interested me about the inside of Carter’s house. My gaze roamed over several cardboard boxes stacked in each corner. Across from a rickety oak coffee table, books and videocassettes were stacked sky high on top of a beige sofa.

  I followed Carter upstairs to his bedroom, which seemed to be very much like any other thirteen-year-old boy’s room. Posters of racecars were plastered on the wall, and an array of sports memorabilia occupied most of his desk space. I took notice of two framed magazine articles hung up on the wall: “Seattle’s Own Gets Small Role in Upcoming Independent Film,” and “Ten-Year-Old Sings Heart Out at Local County Fair.”

  I traced my finger over the silvery frame and asked, “So how did it go?”

  Carter’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he busied himself with hooking up the Sega Genesis. “How did what go?”

  “Your audition yesterday.”

  “Oh, it was nothing big. I’ll know if I get a callback,” he answered. He reached the far corner of the room and switched on a twenty-inch TV.

  I took a seat on his bed next to him. All my nerves danced. I never sat on a boy’s bed before, or even been in a boy’s room, for that matter. Funny, Carter was completely nonchalant about the whole situation, as if he had girls in his room a hundred times before. The low-ceilinged room suddenly grew still and airless. Embarrassment rushed to my cheeks. We were close, too close. My knee touched the side of his leg, and I felt the startling heat of him. I was troubled by a wave of strange feelings stirring inside me, and imperceptibly scooted away, but remained calm. I didn’t want to blow it. A younger boy’s voice interrupted my nervous stupor.

  “Carter—” Darren entered the room, clad in an oversized Lakers shirt and tan cargo shorts. The boy was quite tall and lanky for an eight-year-old. I was sure in a matter of years he would tower over many of his peers. “Can I play?”

  “Not now,” Carter said, point blank.

  Darren clambered onto the bed and squealed, “Pleaaaaaaseee?”

  “No. Now get out of my room.”

  “I’m telling Mom!” the younger boy shouted back in displeasure and then dashed out the door.

  “He’s so annoying sometimes,” Carter brought to my attention.

  I merely shrugged. As an only child, I couldn’t exactly sympathize except from what I’d seen in sitcoms on TV. “You should be nice to him. He’s the only brother you’ve got.”

  He cocked his head and gave me a “get real” look. “You try living with him.”

  “Carter...I need—”

  I froze at the sight of Mary Storm staring back at me incredulously. With a wheeze of panic in her voice, she asked, “What’s going on in here?”

  “We’re just playing Sega, Mom,” Carter responded a bit absentmindedly. He was too focused on passing level five.

  Mary sized me up and down to the point where I almost felt violated. “And you are?”

  “I’m Alexa.” My body shuddered in response. “I live right across the street, and I—”

  “Right,” she said as though I was lying through my teeth. “Carter, I want this door left open. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Carter said obediently—almost robot like.

  I glanced out the bedroom window after she disappeared down the hallway. A tingling nervousness collected somewhere near my center. “It’s uh—it’s getting late. I have to get home. You know, for dinner.”

  ***

  The sound of pebbles nicking at my bedroom window awoke me several weeks later on a particularly hot summer night. I forced myself out of bed and lethargically eased open my window. Down in the front yard was Carter with a basketball glued to his side.

  “You forgot, didn’t you?” he whispered.

  “No,” I whispered back. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  I threw on a shirt and a pair of jeans, and like a thief in the night, quietly crept downstairs, hoping not to stir my parents from sleep.

  The moist, heavy air of a late July night descended upon me. I took a quick glance at my surroundings and tried to orient myself to the darkness of the neighborhood. The night was lit only by the dim glow of street lamps. My desolate community was the same day in and day out. No one was ever around to notice a couple of kids taking a midnight stroll. Feeling like we were the only two people in the world had an exciting element about it.

  Once we got off our street, we made our way past several housing developments and one strip mall. We reached Irvine Park after trekking dirt paths and sidewalks. There were no lights surrounding the commons, just pitch blackness. We’d done this so many times over the course of the last few weeks that we were used to it. My eyes adjusted to the brightness of Carter’s white shirt, which lit up like a fluorescent light. In no time, we had settled into our usual game of one-on-one.

  Carter lightly dribbled the basketball around in a circle. “I think we should make this game a little more interesting,” he said with a smirk.

  “How so?”

  “Like, let’s make a bet or something.”

  “A bet?” I repeated. Carter could be so random at times, but that was one of those unique qualities I appreciated about him.

  “Yeah, but it has to be something good.” He paused for a moment, clearly in deep thought. “Okay, I got it—”

  In a haze of worry, I asked, “Do I even have a say in this?”

  “Of course. But just listen—if I win, you have to watch all the Star Trek movies with me from beginning to end.”

  I hated those movies with a passion and he knew it. I stood there indecisively, wondering what the hell I was going to do to get him back.

  Laughter rippled from Carter’s lips. “You’re thinking way too hard.”

  “Fine. You want to play that game?” I finally responded. “If I win, you have to let your brother hang out with us for a week. And I mean anytime he wants.”


  The color drained from his face. “Now, that’s brutal. I—”

  “Nope. Rules are rules.”

  “Whatever,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

  While he continued to brood, I stole the ball right out from under him and made a successful lay-up. At first, I didn’t think I could make such a shot, but the ball just barely made it through the net.

  “Am I good or what?”

  “The bet doesn’t count if you’re gonna cheat,” Carter huffed.

  My body slowly started depleting of energy halfway through our game. My throat was dry and parched, in dire need of something cold to drink.

  I realized with a faint sense of shock that I had grown accustomed to the slightly pungent, yet sweet smell of Carter’s sweat. The sound of his heavy breathing was like a symphony to my ears.

  “Ready to give up?” I asked.

  “You wish.” The sweat glistened on his forehead.

  “Okay, fine. I was just giving you a chance to walk away quietly. Darren is going to be thrilled.” I stared pointedly at the net and aimed for the basket. This time I missed the shot. Leave it to Carter to swoop in and seize the ball.

  “Hey, kids!”

  We froze. The voice of a disgruntled police officer in the far distance echoed through our ears.

  “You two shouldn’t be out here this time of night,” he called to us from across the park.

  I looked at Carter. We were both thinking the same thing. With our nerves pulsing with adrenaline, we ran as if on fire. My leg muscles burned, and my heart beat so fast I was sure it would explode. We took a shortcut through some brush leading back to our neighborhood. I was sure we lost the cop by the time we got to my house. Carter and I collapsed on the grass in my back yard.

  “Oh my God. You should have seen the look on your face,” Carter said in hysterics.