Something Like Fate (7 page)

“Oh, you’re allowed. If they go with your coded sentence.”

“This one goes.”

Jason looks at the paper for a minute. “One more.” He writes something and passes it over.

“Hey!” I go. “This actually makes sense!” It’s so weird how I just analyzed that he’s intense and here he is writing about it. Not that I’m going to share that information. I don’t want him thinking I’m some creepy girl who goes around analyzing people’s writing or anything.

“Yeah. You get bonus points for that.”

“So, what kind of trouble are you having?”

“How do you know it’s referring to me?”

“Because you’re an intense guy.”

“Ah, but am I a
really
intense guy?”

“I can’t tell yet.”

“This code works on a few different levels. Like every time I say
right
, it could actually mean this.”

“Handy.” I can already tell that Jason is really intense. He gets things average boys don’t. He seems more aware than other people. You can see it in his eyes. I can definitely see it when he looks at me. Especially when the color of his eyes changes. Sometimes we’ll be talking or laughing and suddenly it’s like a switch flips and he gets all serious. That’s when his eyes change from their normal tropical ocean green-blue to a much darker green.

When that happens, it’s definitely intense.

“Does every intense guy have trouble?” I ask.

“Only when they’re in difficult situations.”

“Like what?”

Jason gets his serious look. His eyes go dark green.

I press my fingers against my tourmalinated quartz. It hangs from a silver chain I always have on, even if I’m wearing other necklaces. Tourmalinated quartz has balancing powers. It grounds me when I’m feeling unstable.

Fricking busted tourmalinated quartz.

I go, “You mean . . . like when your pizza gets cold and you don’t want it anymore?”

Jason looks down at his cold slice of pizza.

“Right,” he says. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

We both know it’s not.

Or maybe I’m the only one feeling these things. Jason made his choice. I’m not it. So I need to just accept that being friends with him is going to be hard, but I’d rather be friends than nothing at all.

Today’s my birthday.
It’s really cool how astrology totally determines who you are. Like when I learned about birth charts, here’s what I found out about my inherent attributes:

I also discovered that my moon sign is Aquarius. I think my moon-sign characteristics are more accurate:

The moon and the stars know us. More proof that everything is connected.

Erin and Blake are coming over tonight. Erin wanted to bring Jason, so he’s coming, too. I didn’t invite anyone else. I hate big parties if they’re for me. I was thinking about inviting Danielle, but when I mentioned it to Erin, she sort of convinced me not to.

I was like, “I might invite Danielle.”

Erin went, “Oh,” in that way where someone’s partially repulsed by something.

“What?” I said.

“Nothing. It’s just . . . do you think that’s the best idea? I mean, she doesn’t really know us.”

“She knows me.” Erin has issues with Danielle. It bothers her that Danielle and I became good friends after I broke away from the Golden Circle. If Erin had her way, nothing would have changed.
Danielle
and
fun
aren’t exactly synonymous in Erin’s mind. They’ve never hung out, which is fine by Erin.

“No offense,” Erin went, “but it’d be way better if it was just the four of us. You’re the only one she knows. Don’t you think she’d feel left out?”

Erin had a point. Inviting Danielle might be awkward for her.

So I decided not to invite Danielle. When she asked what I was doing for my birthday, I told her I just wanted to chill alone because I really needed some Me Time. I hated lying to her, but I had no idea what else to say.

One World threw me a party during our meeting yesterday. Danielle even made a cake. No one was mad about my lunch table switch. Actually, things only feel weird with Danielle at lunch. When we hang out like we usually do, everything seems the same as always. Mom did a huge birthday breakfast spread this morning. As part of their gift, my parents are spending the night in the city so we can have the house to ourselves. It seems more like a gift for them, but whatever. We’re going to order in and watch movies.

I’ve been thinking about what happened at lunch the other day with the note code. I’ve decided it was nothing. Jason does not like me. I cannot like him.

It’s obviously nothing.

Blake doesn’t agree.

“She’s bringing him
here
?” Blake thinks I’m mental for hanging out with Jason while Erin’s in the same room. He couldn’t believe that Erin didn’t figure out that Jason likes me when we were at the kite festival. I tried to explain that the reason Erin didn’t figure it out is because there’s nothing
to
figure out. He’s convinced I’m in denial. And not just about Jason liking me. Blake thinks I like him back.

“What’s the big deal?” I go.

“The big
deal
? Seriously?”

I’m digging through the kitchen drawer with all the miscellaneous stuff, trying to find the take-out menus. We hardly ever use them since my mom cooks almost every night.

Blake goes, “It’s obvious he likes you—”

“Can you
not
?” I interrupt.

“Can I finish?”

I go back to digging through the drawer.

“As I was saying,” Blake continues, “it’s obvious he likes you. And it’s obvious you like him.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Why do you keep denying it?”

I stop digging.

Blake goes, “You know how some people’s feelings are written all over their faces?”

“Yeah?”

“You should see yourself when he’s around. It’s like you guys had this instant connection.”

“Just because two people connect doesn’t mean they like each other.”

“No. But you do.”

“If it’s so obvious, then how come Erin hasn’t said anything?”

“Please, you know how that one is. She’s wrapped up in her own world. True, it’s a fabulous world, but she pretty much just sees what she wants to see.”

It was one thing for Blake to joke about the way Jason looked at me when we all went out for pizza. It’s a whole other thing for him to mean it. He’s probably just picking up on my vibes and projecting them onto Jason. He also seems to be confusing having things in common with attraction. They’re two totally different things.

“Right?” Blake goes.

“I’m neither confirming nor denying my own feelings, but trust me: Jason likes Erin. That’s why he’s going out with her.”

There are so many reasons why Jason can’t like me. But I still can’t stop thinking about my palm and tarot readings. How I’ll have more than one great love in my life. How my fate line shows that an immense conflict will happen soon.

How something might rip Erin and me apart.

The doorbell rings.

I go, “Can I put my head in this drawer and slam it now?”

“Not now. You have company.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “I can do this. It’s not that serious.”

“Not yet,” Blake mumbles.

“What?”

“Get the door, girl. One step at a time.”

“Ha-ha.” I’ve totally converted Blake on the horoscope front. Now we read our weekly horoscopes together. This week, my horoscope said that I’d be faced with a great challenge and the best way to approach it would be one step at a time.

Somehow, I manage to open the door. And smile at the enormous bunch of balloons Erin has for me. And act like my normal self (or at least what I think my normal self acts like). But I can’t stop wondering why I didn’t deny it when Blake said I like Jason. I should have just told him he’s wrong. Then everything would be fine.

After dinner, two movies, cake, and a hysterical game of Twister, Jason and I are out on the back porch sitting on the swing while Erin and Blake are inside playing more Twister. I don’t know how we split up into pairs like this. Maybe Blake had something to do with it. I was laughing so hard playing that I almost hacked up a lung. So I said I was going to take a break and Jason said he’d come with me and Blake challenged Erin to another game and here we are.

My back porch is elevated over the lake. When you’re on the porch, it looks like you’re floating above the water. It’s really peaceful. We can hear “Transatlanticism” playing through the open window. It’s one of the songs on my desert-island CD pick. Death Cab is made of awesome.

“I like it out here,” Jason says.

“Me, too.”

“You can see defunct tracks right through those trees over there.”

“What?”

“Old train tracks. Some parts of the rail line aren’t used anymore, but the tracks are still there. The train used to go right along that side of the lake.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Don’t know. Like, fifty years ago?”

“How do you know all this?”

“My grandpa was a train conductor. We used to go for walks when I was little, all up and down these tracks. He showed me tons of secret places they go.”

“That’s so cool.”

A warm breeze blows over the lake. These May nights are the best. The air is really soft. By July, it’s so hot and humid out that the suffocating air practically crushes you the second you leave the house.

“I still walk them,” Jason says. “The tracks.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My grandpa used to say that any problem I had could be worked out by walking the tracks. He said I could find all the answers out there.”

How perfect would that be? I could use that kind of magic right about now.

“Do you think it’s true?” I ask.

“It works for me. Whenever I can’t get something out of my head, I walk the tracks. Everything just sort of clears away.”

“I used to have a journal. The same thing would happen with me. As soon as I wrote about my problems, it was like they weren’t so bad anymore.”

“Exactly. Once you put it all out there, you’re free.”

Jason gets me. He even gets stuff I didn’t know I was trying to say.

He goes, “Maybe you can come with me sometime.”

“Where?”

“For a walk.”

“Okay. I mean, maybe. Not that I don’t want to. It’s—that sounds cool. I’m just not sure if . . . whatever. Walks are good.”

Walks are good?
Could I
be
a bigger spaz? What’s the big deal about walking? Not that Jason and I will be walking anywhere now. Now that he knows what a complete and total freak I am.

“Do you still have a journal?” Jason says.

“No. I thought about starting a blog, but that’s not really my thing.”

“So what’s your thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you deal with your problems?”

“Oh.” I take a mental inventory of the things I do to feel better. Use my favorite bath bubbles. Do some more fate research. Plant trees. Somehow, none of my usual techniques has been all that effective lately. “I guess I don’t, really. Deal with them, I mean.”

It’s so weird about Jason and the train tracks. When I was little, I was always fascinated by them. Where they were going. What they had seen. I wondered if anyone else was noticing them the way I was. There’s something about the train tracks that made me feel like I was in the center of everything, like I could go anywhere. The world felt so full of possibility. So I think it’s wild that this whole time, there was someone else out there who felt the same way.

And now he’s here.

“Everyone has their coping tricks,” Jason says. “Let’s see. Do you . . . get mad at the world and punch holes in the wall?”

“No.”

“No? Do you . . . eat ice cream and watch chick flicks?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ticklish?”

“No!” I yell. Because I am so ticklish it’s not even funny.

“Let’s make sure.” Jason tickles my side.

“Stop!” I laugh-scream. “Stop it!”

The porch door slides open.

“Hey,” Erin says.

Jason stops tickling me.

I stop laughing.

“Oh, hey,” he says. “We were just . . . talking.”

“About what?”

I can’t really remember what we were talking about. Something about journals and train tracks and . . . How did that turn into all the tickling?

Erin looks at me.

I go, “Um. Just . . . you know . . . random stuff . . .”

“How’s Twister?” Jason says.

“Over.”

Blake swoops up behind Erin. He lifts her up and carries her out to the porch.

“Put me down!” she squeals.

“Not until you admit that I am the reigning Twister champion of all time that was and all time left to come.”

“Fine.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing!” Blake lifts her higher.

“Okay, okay! You rule!”

“Thank you.” Blake puts Erin down.

“But you
so
cheated on left-hand yellow!” Erin yells. Then she runs off the porch shrieking with Blake chasing her. He catches her and carries her back.

“It’s getting late,” Erin tells Jason. “I should go.” She sneaks a quick look at me. The sparkle in her eye says,
Fill me in on what he said later?