Radiate (38 page)

It’s the same thing every year: Mom’s green bean casserole with the fried onions; Mrs. Newbaum’s baked yams with the melted marshmallows and toasted pecans; Dr. Johnson’s deep-fried turkey; Ella McQueen’s pineapple-glazed ham... and more.

What’s different this year, is Gabriel and his folks are back in the neighborhood. His mom’s apple sausage dressing is to die for, and when I heap it onto my plate I realize how much I’ve missed it in my life.

Gabriel sits next to me at our picnic table with Cliff and Lily opposite us. We don’t talk much as we stuff our faces with the yummy delights from the many neighbors, even going back for seconds. It’s great to have my appetite back, especially for this meal. I can’t get enough of the fried turkey, slathered in gravy.

“Dessert?” Gabriel asks when we’ve finished our meal.

“Um... yeah! Have you just met me?”

We laugh together and make our way down the street to where the dessert table is set up. There’s everything you could ever want: apple, pumpkin, blueberry, and cherry pies, cheesecake, lemon tarts, cookies, cakes, fudge, fruit—you name it.

I select a huge chunk of the pumpkin streusel cheesecake and follow Gabriel over to the lawn table in front of the Newbaum’s house. Several bites into the delicious dessert, I finally get my nerve up to ask my friend the hundred-thousand-dollar question.

“Gabriel?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did your family leave Maxwell?”

“You know, things happen.”

I fork another mouthful of cheesecake and swallow quickly. “No, I don’t really know. Like I’ve said, you just left and never said goodbye. And now, you’re back all of a sudden.”

He wipes cherry pie off his lip with the napkin. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” I say. “It just seems all shrouded in mystery.”

Gabriel stares ahead, picking at the crust of his pie. “Don’t worry about it.”

I sit up and plant my feet on the lawn. “
That’s
your answer? ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Are you kidding me?”

He lowers his brows at me. “It was six years ago. What does it matter?”

“Because we were good friends. We hung out and played and you killed earwigs for me. You just... disappeared. Like someone kidnapped you. One day you were in my life, and the next you were gone.”

His eyes touch mine. “I’m here now. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re back. Especially now, given how much you’ve helped me. I only wanted to know what happened. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

His plastic fork drops to his plate. “Leave it alone, Hay.”

“Leave
what
alone?”

He snaps. “Look. Things happened to us as a family, and we just... dealt with them. Same thing with you and your family dealing with your cancer. Let’s drop it, okay?” He pauses for a moment or two and then stretches his legs to get up. “I think I’ll try the chocolate cake.”

As he strides away back to the dessert table, I know there’s something he’s not telling me.

Gabriel Tremblay has a secret, and I’m going to find out what it is.

***

School resumes after Thanksgiving, and the Patriots play their final regular season game. We’ve miraculously survived the tough schedule and come out unscathed and undefeated.

Two playoff games—one home, one away—and we’ve made it to the state championship game. This is the big enchilada, the crème de la crème of our football world. Only four quarters and one team stand between us, the title, and the humongous trophy.

It’s an epic battle for the ages . . .

Okay... so maybe my AP English class has rubbed off on me too much. But this game is killer! Physical. Demanding. Punishing. Emotional.

My voice is nearly gone by the beginning of the second half.

“Go, Pats!” I eke out.

In the beginning of the fourth quarter, Daniel hauls in a thirty-eight-yard pass and dashes for the end zone, putting us up by two touchdowns. Since I can’t scream, I wind up and do a back handspring.

Nailed it!

Oh my God! I haven’t done that since this summer.

It feels freaking awesome!

Chloe even takes notice and nods at me while she executes her own perfect backflip.

Lora high-fives me, and we move into doing some partner stunts. Thanks to my steady workouts, she seems to weigh almost nothing. I hold her high over my head easily and shine my smile and spirit out to the crowd.

The clock ticks down and we win!

“We’re state champs!” I scream out to Lora the best I can.

All of the cheerleaders take off into a run onto the field for the celebration. I don’t run, but I move out there as fast as my leg will take me. Everyone’s hugging, chest bumping, and patting one another on the back.

“Awesome job! Congrats! Way to go!” I say to the players.

Scoop Dogg runs toward me and lifts me up into the air, swinging me around. I yelp, but I’m loving it. The adrenaline rush and high from this victory are like nothing I’ve ever experienced. And I was a part of it.

“Trophy presentation,” Chloe snaps. “Line up, squad.”

We form two lines next to the players and cheer them on as the officials hand over the monstrous silver trophy to Coach Gaither. He raises it high, and the crowd goes wild. We’re the visiting team for this game, but a ton of fans and parents came along on the two-hour road trip. Reporters surround the players and dozens of camera flashes blind us. I love the high of this!

The ceremony ends, and the players head to the locker room to change. Afterward, Lora, Tara, Ashlee, and I follow the football bus in Lora’s car to a local steak house. Coach had arranged ahead of time for us to have our own banquet room.

“Steak dinner, baby!” Tara says when we walk in.

“Filet mignon for me,” Ashlee says.

I don’t care what I eat. I’m jazzed just to be here.

I’m part of this. I helped make this happen. Okay, sure, I didn’t catch any passes or score any touchdowns, but I kept the crowds into the games and did all I could to encourage the players from my small place on the sidelines.

“Hey, y’all,” Chloe says. “I’ve got something to give out.”

She comes around the table and presents each of us with a small white box wrapped with blue and red ribbons. It’s almost too pretty to open. But the other girls are tearing at theirs, so I do the same.

“I just wanted to thank all of y’all for such a great season. I knew we could go all the way, and we did. The guys couldn’t have done this without us. This is the best squad I’ve ever been affiliated with, and I’m so proud of y’all.” Chloe’s voice catches at the end, and I’m actually touched by her speech.

“Oh my God, these are gorgeous,” Melanie exclaims.

“Wow, so pretty,” Madison echoes.

“My momma and I made them for y’all. Each one is personalized.”

Lora’s mouth drops, and she shifts her eyes to me.

I rip open the box and gaze at two beautiful ceramic combs with the Patriots’ emblem and my name hand painted on them.

My first instinct is to bite my lip. I don’t know whether it’s to keep from saying what I’m feeling or to stop the tears from gushing out of my eyes.

Combs?

Really, Chloe? Are you kidding me?

I know I said I wouldn’t cry anymore, but this is cruel and adds insult to injury.

I find my voice and speak up. “Chloe?”

She turns; her long ponytail following in her wake. “Yeah, Hayley?”

I hold up the present. “Are these meant for me?”

“Of course,” she says. And then it must hit her, because her mouth drops open.

“In case you might have forgotten, Chloe, I don’t have any hair.”

She stops moving. “Um... I’m... oh my God . . .”

I can’t let her off this easily, but my heart is ripping. “Is this supposed to be a joke, or are you just
that
mean and hate me that much?”

Her hands go to her mouth, and I don’t know whether she’s genuinely that insensitive or just a raving fool. “Oh, Hayley, I don’t know what to say.”

I’m mortified. Pure and simple. I don’t want her to see how much she’s upset me, but it’s pretty obvious.
I’m
not a good actress. Lora pats me on the leg to comfort me. Mainly, I want to run out of the room crying and disappear from public until my hair returns to its natural state. Chloe has ruined this beautiful moment by reminding me how different I am from everyone else.

“You most certainly
do
know what to say, Chloe,” Gabriel says, coming to my rescue. “How about ‘I’m sorry’!”

“What?” she asks, surprised that someone’s challenging her. “I didn’t mean any harm... I—I—I thought it would give her encouragement for when she does have hair.”

Gabriel points his finger in her face. “You’re a bitch, Chloe. You have no idea what Hayley’s been through, and you have no respect for her being out in front of people, cheering her heart out with no hair. You’re the most insensitive cow I’ve ever known.”

She recoils at his words. Obviously, no one has ever spoken to her like this before.

He’s not through. “You need to have more respect for people. Especially Hayley and all she’s dealt with. She’s cried and suffered, yet she’s triumphed. And through it all, she’s cheered. Could you have done the same?”

With every eye in the banquet room on her, Chloe softly says, “I—I—I don’t know if I could have.” She twists to face me. “I’m sorry, Hayley. I really am.”

She moves to take the combs; however, I stop her. “For when my hair comes back.”

A weak smile covers her face, and she slinks away.

Whoa.

Gabriel... to my rescue—once again.

I smile my thanks to him, and he winks at me.

Convert difficulties into opportunities, for difficulties are divine surgeries to make you better.

—Author Unknown

Can I ride home with you?” I ask Gabriel outside the restaurant.

He flips his keys in his palm. “Wouldn’t you rather go with your friends?”

“You’re my friend.”

“You’re right, I am.” He unlocks the doors with the press of a button. “Hop in!”

As we zip down the highway, Gabriel messes around with the radio to find something better to listen to than the seventy country music channels. We sing along together to the top-forty-hits station. It feels amazing to just... be.

A few miles from Maxwell, I see Gabriel in a totally different light. The reflection of the other cars’ head beams shines on his face, outlining the masculine details, kind eyes, and warm smile. My earwig hunter. I’m seeing him like I never really have before. Kind. Sensitive. Caring. Giving. Not a typical guy who cares only about himself. He cares about me.

He’s... really cute. I mean,
really
cute. When did this happen? How have I not noticed the fineness of my friend? Was I too blinded by the idea of dating Daniel that I couldn’t see the perfect guy who was right in front of me? The one with the dark eyes and lashes that should be illegal for a boy.

My heart flutters underneath my uniform, and I’m suddenly feeling tongue tied, shy, and... nervous. Gabriel . . .

We roll up to a red light, and he turns to look at me. “What?” he asks with a smile when he catches me ogling him. “What’s going on, peach fuzz?” He reaches over and gently brushes his fingertips over the soft new growth of babylike hair on my head.

I just grin at him and wait for the light to turn green so the moment isn’t as intense.

“You don’t mind that I don’t have hair, do you?”

“Why would I?” He scowls at me for asking the question. “You’re still the same person.”

“My limp doesn’t bother you, either.”

Gabriel steers the car onto Willow Hollow. “Give it six months and you’ll be good as new. Just keep working on those toe-strengthening exercises. We’ll gradually increase the weight so you can—”

I reach my hand over and touch his arm. My skin ignites where it touches his and from the look on his face, he feels something, too. He slides the car in front of my house and puts it in park.

“You don’t judge me, Gabe,” I say.

“I know what it’s like to be judged, Hay.”

“You’ve really been there for me. Not just with the physical therapy... but... everything.” Why am I only now realizing this? Was I too blinded by the glory of dating the King of the Pops that I couldn’t see this amazing guy right next to me?

Without overthinking it and before I chicken out, I lean over and kiss him.

Gabriel’s taken aback at first; then he pulls me into his arms and returns the kiss.

It’s totally magical.

I’m sure somewhere orchestra music is swelling and fireworks are going off.

This is everything a first kiss should be.

Soft. Sweet. Spine-tingling.

One to be treasured.

One to be replayed.

One to remember always.

One between friends. But so much more.

His hands cup my face as our lips tangle together and dance against each other. I close my eyes and smile into the kiss, wanting more and more from him.

But he suddenly freezes and pushes back. “We have to stop. I can’t.”

Scalded by his cold words, I press my lips together. “Wh-wh-why? Are you gay?”

Incredulous, he says, “No! It’s not that at all.”

“What is it, then?” I ask, feeling the fool.

Gabriel puts his hands on the wheel in the ten and two positions. “I’ve got problems, Hayley. Problems that sent me and my family away from Maxwell in the beginning. I can’t get too close to anyone.”

This is the lamest brushoff in the history of brushoffs.

Problems? You want to talk about problems?

I grab my purse and pompoms and jerk the car door open. Before he can say anything, I slam it shut and rush into the house as quickly as my bum leg will take me. I don’t stop to say good night to Mom and Dad who are lounging in the den watching TV. I actually take the stairs up two at a time and retreat to my room.

I throw my stuff on the floor and then fling my body onto my bed, staring up at the ivory lace of the canopy top.

What is it with me and guys?