Page 25 of Breakaway Goal

I place the hook on the flat top of the shrub underneath the window, and we scurry to hide behind the corner of the house.

From our hiding place, we hear the back door slowly and cautiously sliding open. Then we hear the girls step even more cautiously onto the small back porch.

“Maybe it was a bird or something?” Maddie says. Apprehension is thick in her voice.

“Maybe,” Jasmine replies skeptically. “Or … wait. What’s that?”

Lane excitedly rasps his fist against my back. I dare a peek around the edge of the wall. Jasmine’s spotted the hook sitting atop the shrub, and she and Maddie are approaching it warily.

These girls would really get killed off fast if they lived in a horror movie. I make a mental note to lecture both of them about the virtues of self-preservation later.

For now, though, I’m content to take advantage of their lack of survival instincts for my own childish amusement.

Maddie’s voice sounds thin and trembly as she pushes out, “Is that a …”

I shoot Lane a wink, holding up three fingers. Down to two. Down to one …

“Hook?” Jasmine finishes on a spooked warble.

We jump from behind the corner with loud screams and wild gesticulations.

Jasmine and Maddie shriek, jumping higher than I ever would have imagined they could. They turn around and race back to the door.

Lane and I, meanwhile, are absolutely cracking up. I’m laughing so hard that my stomach muscles are seizing.

The familiar sound of our laughter must cut through the cloud of terror around the girls. They stop just short of the sliding door and turn around.

“Rhys? Lane?” I can’t tell which of them says our names. I only see them turn toward us through a film of tears in my eyes. Lane and I have to hug each other to keep from falling over from laughing so hard.

“You … you …!” Then they’re chasing after us, flailing their fists, hoping to land a haymaker on us that we surely deserve while we run away.

They chase us around the house, through the front door, up the stairs, and right to the threshold of my room, where I manage to slam the door shut and lock it before they can catch us.

Lane and I are convulsing in laughter while they bang on the door.

“I’ll get you assholes back for this!” Maddie calls. I can only imagine what the rest of the guys are making of the commotion.

“Yeah,” I say to Lane, still wheezing between laughs. “Now itreallyfeels like old times.”

Nights just like this with Lane, all through elementary school, middle school, and high school, are some of my best memories. Times that’ll put a smile on my face for the rest of my life when I look back on them.

As nice as it is to feel thrust back into the good old days of growing up with my best friend, there’s an unpleasant feeling that simmers beneath the laughter and memories.

How much my friendship with Lane means to me, the memories I’ve made with him and Maddie—it’s all a reminder that my one-sided infatuation with her can never be anything but.

12

MADDIE

I’m on Rhys’s bed, reclining against his new pillows with my knees bent to support my sketchpad. I’m working on my next assignment for my Figure Drawing class while Rhys sits at his desk, leaning over his Biology homework.

My laptop sits at the other end of Rhys’s bed, its speakers pumping out a playlist of songs by Camera Obscura, one of our favorite bands. We’re both focused on our work, grooving to their songFrench Navy.

Jasmine and I got some good news over the weekend. The college announced that we’ll be able to move back into our dorms by the end of this week. Staying here has been fun, but I’m already getting tired of sleeping on a couch every night and not having any real space for myself.

I groan in frustration, examining my sketch and realizing the lines and curves I’m making with my pencil just aren’t coming together the way I want them to.

“What’s wrong?” Rhys asks from his desk.

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