Page 53 of Leaving the Station
“Should we get a map?” he asked, already grabbing one.
The map showed the different areas of the orchard, along with the variety of apples located in each.
I pointed to a section labeled “SnapDragon.”
“Cornell developed those,” I said. Randall had told me this once when I should’ve been in class. There weren’t any apple trees in the greenhouse, but he was proud of all of Cornell’s plant-based achievements, and I was his best audience.
“That’s amazing,” Alden said, looking at me like I’d just told him I’d found a cure for cancer. “Let’s start there.”
I continued to tell him all the apple facts I’d picked up in the greenhouse, and he continued to be impressed. I liked being theknowledgeable one; it gave me a modicum of control over the situation. Sure, maybe he’d planned the day and he’d driven me here and he was the only person who wanted to spend time with me, but at least I was the apple expert.
“Wanna bet I can get that apple?” Alden asked, pointing to a lone, bright red SnapDragon at the top of a tree. It must’ve been nine feet in the air.
This was the part of hanging out with him that I loved: doing stupid shit together.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “What do I get when you lose?”
“Not gonna happen,” he told me, jumping a little to warm up. “I’ve got a huge vertical leap.”
I laughed incredulously at that, and Alden mimed thrusting a sword through his abdomen, dramatically wounded by my disbelief.
“Should we put it to the test?” I was bouncing on the balls of my feet now too. If someone passed by, they might think we were about to fight, 1950s greaser-style.
Alden grinned. “You’re so on, dude.”
I still don’t know if he said it as a joke or got caught up in the moment. But either way, the word made me feel more affectionately toward him than I had since I’d started panicking about our relationship.
After his first jump, it was clear I would lose.
Hedidhave a giant vertical leap, and he easily could’ve grabbed the apple. As hard as I tried, my jump was much lower.
I felt stuck in my body. I wanted to shed my skin and fly through the clouds.
I conceded, out of breath and frustrated, and he took a victory leap and plucked the apple from the tree.
“I have a question,” he said through a bite of the crisp SnapDragon as we walked farther into the orchard.
My heart sped up. “Okay?”
“What were you like in high school?”
The relief I felt that it wasn’t anything deeper was overshadowed by the horror of having to relive my high school experience.
“Why do you want to know?”
“You never talk about it, and I’m curious. What were your friends like? What clubs did you do? That kind of stuff.”
There was a reason I didn’t talk about high school. It was another world from this, one where I had no say in my life.
But look at that: now that I finally had a say, I’d ruined everything.
“I did Science Olympiads.” It was a safe answer. “What about you?” He hadn’t talked much about what he was like in high school either.
We passed by a bucket of mini gourds, and his expression darkened. “I don’t think we would’ve dated back then.”
“Why?” I asked, though on my end I knew the answer: I was a mostly out lesbian.
“I wasn’t cool,” he said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He frowned at this. “I’m being serious.”
