Less Than Three

Chapter 30: An Exercise in Decision Making

Breakfast or Dinner? Breakfast. HA! That was quick.

Sugar or Spice? Spice -- also easy.

Vanilla or Chocolate? Uh-oh. You order one. I'll order the other. We'll share.

Blue or Yellow? Are we talking hair? Then blue.

Paper or Plastic? I know I should care about this but I don't.

Pen or Pencil? Pencil (with eraser) (in case I change my mind)

What the flip? I'd thought Madison was 100% done with Jacob. She'd been in full flirt mode with Dave Brown all week. She was ver-r-ry attentive to several boys at the beach too. Yet she would not talk to me when I called. She was keeping her phone free, waiting for Jay-y-y-cob to dial her up. Talk about indecisive.

I skated down to her house. We were lying on her bed and I was attempting to send a psychic message to Gordon Toledo when my phone rang. Brady or Dave? I was almost afraid to find out. I answered without looking at the screen.

"I need your help," Jacob said.

"Of course" I said, with just the tiniest hint of facetious-ness in my voice.

"Let's try it this way then, I know all about Dave Brown."

"Which is?" I managed to croak.

"Which is that Madison's been talking to him."

Whew. "So?"

"So I also know that you were the one who set it up."

"Oh. Kay," I said, as I prepared to poke the disconnect button.

"I know about you and Dave too."

My finger twitched. "Does ...?"

"Does Brady know?"

Well, we could start there.

"Not yet," he said, "but how do you expect to keep it secret?"

"I ... I don't," I said and it wasn't really that hard to do. If I could just find the courage to say it to Brady. I was considering how I might accomplish that while Jacob yammered on.

"Do you ever think about anyone but yourself, Summer?" he said.

"What?" It was thinking about other people that got me into this mess, wasn't it?

Madison rolled to her side, making 'Who Is It?' motions. I tried to turn away but she pulled on my shoulder. We were practically nose to nose when Jacob asked, "What about her? How's she going to feel when I tell her what you've done?"

I'm not sure what he said to me after that. There was something about the coffee shop though, and twenty minutes, then nothing. I swung my legs over the edge of Madison's bed and tested their strength before I stood. "I have to go," I said.

"Who was that? Where are you going? When are you going to ...?"

"It was ... I just ... I'm sorry." And then I was out her front door and pushing off on my skateboard.

And Madison was yelling after me, "Wait!"

She might as well have been screaming 'WEIGHT!' though, because it felt like that was crashing down on me -- the weight of everything I'd done. But that was just a metaphor.

What was really crashing down on me was Dave Brown.

***

I had my eyes wide open, maybe for the first time in a month. That didn't stop me from turning a corner and slamming straight into him. It didn't matter how much running on air I did – this time, nothing could soften the blow.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I guess he figured out I wasn't. The tears probably gave me away.

"Where does it hurt?" he said.

I put my hands over my heart before I stood and tried to skate away.

Dave skated after me, of course. Once, at the stoplight, he reached for my hand. But I stepped off the curb and dodged a slow car to get away. He was right behind me again at the door to the coffee shop. I turned and gave him a shove. He rocked back, stunned.

"I'm sorry," I said (a little stunned myself). "There's just something I have to do."

"Sure, right," he said, rubbing the spot on his chest where I'd pushed. "Whatever." I heard the sound of his wheels and the scrape of his soles on the sidewalk as he skated away.

I pulled at the door handle with one hand and tried to wipe my eyes with the other. That's tough to do when you're carrying a skateboard. I let the handle go. Before I reached for it again, I looked down the street. Dave had stopped and was staring at me. That green t-shirt. That shaggy brown hair. The way his arms hung all loose-like from his shoulders. His shoulders. I committed every detail to memory. Then I wiped my eyes once more and opened the door.

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