Extrait

Three Years Before the Bridge

Graceville Area Unified High School • Graceville, Colorado

Hannah peered into my locker mirror. Her green shirt turned up the color in her ever-changing hazel eyes. She shook out her sandy hair. “You look excellent,” I said. We were sophomores and slightly less nervous than the freshmen buzzing through the hall. I closed my locker and turned to see Cody Martinez appear out of the crowd, six inches taller than he’d been in June, tan from a summer with grandparents in New Mexico, black hair flopping across his dark eyes.

I fell against my locker as he stepped toward us. Yes, Cody-my-first-love, there is no story without him. Cody-my-first-everything. Cody, who stood and half smiled at me as he said, “Hey, Hannah. Hi, Red.”

My breath caught. My cheeks burned. I looked down at my red tank top.

“Cody, can you just drop the tacky name puns, please? You know she hates that,” Hannah said, tugging on her backpack straps.

“No, I . . . don’t mind,” I said.

“Since when?” Hannah slipped one strap of her bag off and dug in the back pocket.

“I’ve mellowed this summer.”

“Yeah?” said Cody, one eyebrow raised.

“Um, teaching science to little kidsdefinitely mellowed you out,” Hannah said.

“I was great with the kids! You saw!”

“Did you know the vein in your neck twitches when you get angry?” Cody had his finger pointed millimeters from my ear. I had never been so aware of the distance between us. The bell rang. “Well, off to pre-calc we go,” he said, pulling his hand away and swiveling on his squeaky sneakers.

“Yes, let’s,” Hannah said.

I dropped a few steps behind Cody to watch his loose-legged walk and whispered to Hannah, “The vein in my neck twitches?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it, totally ugly and disgusting?” My eyes were on Cody as he disappeared into the crowded hallway.

“’Course not, don’t be silly.”

I touched my neck. “That vein is going to beall I think about today.”

“Come on, Scar, hop on the Zoloft like everyone else.”

“Uh, supportive much?”

“Well, you were diagnosed! Do something about it.” Her voice was gentle and pleading and exasperated all at once.

“It’s not severe.” I met her eyes.

I think it worked, because she smiled, then said, “Seems bad if you’re thinking about yourvein instead of six feet of Cody Martinez suddenly all up on you.”

I grinned. I couldn’t stop grinning. “The research on SSRIs and developing brains is mixed,” I said, still grinning.

“I’m not even sure what you just said, except somehow it wasn’t about Cody.”

I swatted her shoulder.

“If you’re really worried about your vein-twitch, just stop wearing ponytails.” She gave mine a tug, then went for my hair-tie.

“Stop! I want it up.” I pushed her off. “No Zoloft. I’m going completely Zen this year—deep breathing. No anxiety. Ever.”

“Zen? Scar, you must be ill. You’re, like, immune to religion.”

“Not the religion part. The breath control.”

“Okay?” Hannah opened her hands in a sort of confused surrender.

“Research shows breathing can grow gray matter in your brain,Hannah.”

“You know what? Studies show prayer can too,Scarlett.” She smiled and pointed a frayed nail at me. Then: “Got any ChapStick?”

“No.”

“It is kind of amazing, isn’t it?”

“What, that I never carry ChapStick and still you ask every day?” I said.

“No, that’s just my optimism. Imeant how much someone can change over a summer.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Hormone development.” I tried to walk faster to keep my eyes on Cody.

“Elevated testosterone production,” Hannah said.

“My limbic system is going into overdrive,” I said.

“Well, keep it together; eat some chocolate.” She handed me a mini chocolate bar, melted slightly from her jeans pocket. “I need your help to get through pre-calc this year.”

As we stepped into the classroom, David Warren stood and shouted to Cody, “You didn’t call when you got back!”

“Just got back yesterday,” Cody said, pulling David into one of those chest-bump dude-hugs before sitting down at an adjacent desk. Cody Martinez. I’d known him most of my life, and he went away for a summer and returned as a person I suddenly wanted to be near. Always. All the time. Right then.

“Scarlett!” Hannah hissed. “Sit next to him! Don’t just stand there.”

I sliced my eyes to her, and probably the vein in my neck twitched too. I tried to breathe slowly through my nose as I slipped into the desk next to Cody. I thought,Inhale 1, 2, 3. Hold. Exhale 1, 2, 3, 4.

And so, with one toss of his hair and a bad name pun, Cody Martinez had suddenly become the brightest object in my universe. My North Star. My Polaris. It wasn’t long before Cody and I were together. All the time. And we were happy, mostly, for over two years.