Reckless Hearts

But it wasn’t just that. Lately, it was physical, too. Her olive skin. Her perfect toes. The way she wore her hair in that modified pixie cut, close and tight around the back, her curls swooping up over her forehead. The sweet curve of her hips and the faint strawberry mark that peeked out like a tattoo from the side of her bikini bottoms.

If she weren’t his best friend, he would have admitted it long ago. Even though he was just moving across town, he felt he had to tell her now. At least then she’d know that all those songs he’d written for “Sarah,” the “girlfriend” who “lived down the beach from his dad in the Keys,” had really been about her.

If only she’d come out to say good-bye, he could say the lines he’d been rehearsing all week.

He sent her one last text. “THEY’RE DONE. GOTTA GO IN 10.”

She responded immediately. “LOOK OUT THE WINDOW.”

And there she was in the chair he’d put out for her, casual, in tight jean shorts crisply folded up just above her knees, sporting her favorite Cowboy Bebop T-shirt. She made a goofy face, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue, briefly, then returned to hunching over the open laptop balanced on her thighs just in time to stop it from falling off.

The future—the future he’d imagined, anyway—flashed in front of Jake. Him moseying out of the house, hands in his pockets, playing it cool. Just as he reaches her, Elena looks up from the computer and something in her eyes says she knows what he’s about to say. That wry grin of hers, capable of communicating both her relish in experience and her ironic commentary on how silly life can be, breaks over her face. And before he can even say, “It’s always been you. I can’t hide it anymore,” she’s up on her tiptoes, her arms stretched out around his neck. A kiss that releases the years of longing between them into the world.

He could almost feel it electrifying his cells already.

The slow walk out of the house was the easy part, even if he could feel his hands nervously shaking in his pockets.

“Hey,” he said, from doorway.

“Hey is for horses,” she said with a wink. And there was that grin, but it didn’t convey the revelation of longing he’d imagined. “Sorry it took me so long.” She patted the six-year-old MacBook that, through the strategic placement of black electrical tape, she’d made look like a monster chomping down on the Apple logo. “Technology. I had to reboot this sucker like five times this morning.”

“Shaun White’s not what he used to be, huh?” Jake said. Shaun White was the name Elena had given the computer.

“Shaun White should have retired years ago.”

“Maybe I can ask Cameron to buy you an upgrade,” Jake said. He meant it, though the idea of actually asking Cameron for anything made him nervous. He’d never spent any time around super-rich people and he wasn’t sure he understood the codes they lived by.

Elena shot him a look that said, Yeah right. “I’d never let you put yourself in that situation.” She focused on the screen for a second and tapped the touch pad a few times. “I mean, he didn’t even come help you pack up.”

“He’s a busy guy.”

“I know. I’m just saying,” she said, protectively defending him.

Elena locked eyes with him for a second, and as her face softened and seemed to reach out to him, he knew she’d seen through to the part of him that was scared about all the change that moving into Cameron’s mansion on the beach would create in his life.

“Come look at what I made you,” she said.

Jake sat in the chair next to her, conscious of her body heat, not getting too close with his elbow or knee for fear of touching her—if he touched her, he’d melt.

“Come on, Jaybird,” she said. “You have to be able to see the screen.” And she threw her arm over his shoulder and mussed his hair, like a buddy, like she was about to give him a noogie. “You ready?”

She adjusted the volume and clicked play on her video-editing program.

First came the music. “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” from Toy Story. Then the delicate, slightly nervous script she always used in her animations.

For Jaybird, it said.

Jake immediately felt the emotions swell in his chest.

The animated characters that always represented the two of them in Elena’s animes—Electra, the tough girl with spiky hair of black flames, heavy kohl eyes, padded, studded leather armor, and jet-flight platform shoes; and Jaybird, tall and skinny with knob knees and a constant bewildered expression on his face—performed a choreographed dance to the music. A backbeat kicked in, and Electra grew larger and larger, her mouth opening until the darkness inside swallowed up the screen.

As Elena’s voice rap-talked over the Toy Story song, stylized freeze-frame images of the two of them floated in and out of the frame—highlights from their years of friendship: the day they raced their bikes all the way to the Seminole monument in the middle of town and then climbed triumphantly to the top and sat on the Native American warrior’s back; the time Jake’s mom took the two of them to Disney World and they spent the whole day pretending they weren’t having as much fun as they really were; the moment when Jake played his guitar in front of an audience for the first time and Elena was right there clapping from the front row. Image after image of the two of them sharing each other’s lives.

The song, or poem, or rap, or whatever Elena was calling the spoken word she’d layered over the images explained what was happening in them. She talked about the day her mom died and the long walk Jake had taken with her, not speaking at all, because what was there to do but be there, a presence by her side, ready when she needed him. She talked about the day he found out his parents were splitting up, how they’d snuck into the recycling center on the west side of town after dark and let out all their rage by shattering bottles against the wall, bottle after bottle after bottle after bottle, until they were giddy, until they’d almost forgotten how sucky the day had been.

“Most boys only want one thing,” she said at one point. “But Jaybird’s different. Jaybird sees the all of me.”

The anime ended with another scrawled fragment of text. Jaybird, don’t you ever change!

Jake was devastated. Not because he was sad but because he was so deeply touched by her work. He stared at the screen, frozen on the final image of the two of them holding hands, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be saying all these things if she knew how much he wanted to be more than friends with her.

“It’s just a rough cut, but … what do you think?” she said, the look on her face betraying a real and desperate need to know he thought it was good.

“I love it,” Jake said, trying to twist his lips into an earnest smile so she’d think he was telling the truth.

Her elegant eyebrows were arched in expectation, her whole face open, waiting.

“Should I post it to AnAmerica? You wouldn’t mind?” AnAmerica was a web forum where Elena and other anime-obsessed kids from all over the country shared their animations with one another.

“Yeah. Yeah. Absolutely, you should post it. It’s great.”

But part of him was disappointed, too. No way could he confess his love to her now. Because what if she rejected him? What if she said, Sorry, I love you, man, but I don’t love you like that? Better to be with her, even as friends, than to lose her friendship because he wanted more out of it than she did.

He rubbed his hands back and forth across his jeans, unsure what to do. “It’s time,” he said. He stood, dazed, and picked up his chair.

She flipped her lower lip down, trying to be cute as she made her sad face. When he didn’t respond, she said, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve … I just have to lock up the house.” He knew himself. He felt itchy. He had to get away. To go somewhere alone and lick his wounds. “And then I’ve got to go. I’m already late meeting Mom. Can you grab that chair?”

Leaving her computer on the lawn, she swung her chair above her head and carried it inside.

When it was time for them to say good-bye, he awkwardly held open his long arms for a hug. She fell into his chest, squeezing him tight, which was nice, but he couldn’t bring himself to squeeze her back. He was afraid, if he did, that she’d see through him and learn his real feelings. Instead, he patted her chastely on the back.

“Don’t forget us little people,” she said.

“I won’t. I’ll see you soon,” he said. “I’ll call you every day. You’ll see.”

2 (#ulink_6f5debf7-19d9-5131-981e-dcb9cc1907a7)

Even though Jake had said nothing would change, by that afternoon, it felt to Elena as though everything already had.

She was trapped at home—her least favorite place to be. Her sister, Nina, had closed the curtains tight across the half-moon living room window, shutting the house in darkness, and she sprawled in her crater on the plush yellow leather couch in front of the TV, shoveling Cool Ranch Doritos into her mouth. She didn’t move once. She just lay there, watching episode after episode of Storage Wars, which she’d turned up so loud that Elena couldn’t hear herself think, much less focus on editing the animation she’d made for Jake. She’d tried hunkering down in the kitchen. She’d tried locking herself in her bedroom. She’d even tried the bathroom, sitting on the floor with her computer propped on the closed lid of the toilet.

When, finally, Elena tried asking her sister to turn it down, Nina stared, her mouth open just enough to show her disinterest, and said, “I’m pregnant, Elena,” as though that explained anything.

“And I’m trying to work,” Elena responded. “I want to get this anime up on the site tonight.”

Nina shrugged. “So do that, then,” she said. She glared at Elena, challenging her to push the topic. “But I have to keep my feet up, so …” She jutted her chin out like she was putting a period on her statement.