Dream Smashers (5 page)

“Ugh. You’re like an annoying little sister.
Not that I would know, but if I had one, I bet she’d be just like
you.”

She presses her lips together, smearing shiny
pink evenly. “Are you done?”

“Yeah. But I’m still mad.”

We walk out of the bathroom, thankful for
fresh air. The boys sit at the table, staring at the pizza like
starving dogs. When Evan’s gaze makes it over to us, he stands
again, and Caleb follows.

The standing and stuff is starting to creep
me out. It’s not like we’re royalty or anything.

“Sorry about that. You could’ve started
eating.” I slide into the booth. Rainy scoots next to me, trapping
me. Evan sits in front of me, grinning.

“Would you like a slice?” He uses the spatula
to pick up a slice of pizza and puts it on the plate in front of
me. “It’s real cheesy.”

And, uh, so are you. “Thanks.”

I can’t get over how sparkly his eyes
are—like they’ve been sprayed with a coat of Rainy’s shiny lip
gloss, but without the pink tinge. He seems happy, even while he
eats. People aren’t usually happy for no reason. Maybe he really
likes pizza.

Caleb, on the other hand, seems downright
frustrated, like he can’t think of a single word to say. There’s
awkwardness painted around him that Rainy isn’t helping out with.
She’s chowing down pizza and slurping her soda like nobody’s
business.

“So, uh, where do you guys go to school?” I
ask to break the silence.

Evan says, “We’re homeschooled.”

“Really? Weird.” I sip my root beer. “I’ve
never met anyone that was homeschooled. I bet it’s awesome not to
have to get up so early every morning and deal with lame
teachers.”

“We still have to get up, but, yeah, no
teachers.”

“Are you related or something?” I point
fingers at Evan and Caleb.

“We’re cousins. But, we don’t live together
or anything like that.” Evan stuffs half a slice of pizza into his
mouth.

Caleb grabs another piece. “We might as well
though. Our family is pretty close and we see each other all the
time.”

“Cool,” I say.

Evan shrugs. “We’re very blessed.”

Rainy’s eyes bug out for a second. She takes
another bite. I can imagine what she’s thinking: “Fruit Loops.”

“Good pizza,” I say.

Rainy snorts soda then coughs to cover it up.
“Yeah, this is
great
pizza.”

I kick her under the table. “Evan—do you, uh,
play any sports?” Goodie guys like to talk about sports, I
think.

“Not really. I run though.” He points to
Caleb. “We’re training to run a marathon on New Year’s.”

“Really?” I ask. “I can’t even run a mile,
let alone, like…eh. How many miles are in a marathon anyway?”

Caleb grabs another slice of pizza.
“Twenty-six. It’ll be our first marathon. We’ve run in
half-marathons before, but never a full one.” He shrugs, like it’s
no big deal.

Rainy sets her soda down and swallows. “No,
seriously? That’s flippin’ crazy. Why do people run in marathons
anyway? It’s not like someone is chasing them for twenty-six miles.
I just don’t get it.”

Evan laughs. Caleb crinkles his brows,
offended like.

I say, “
Some
people like to challenge
themselves to do better and achieve goals. And some people actually
like running.”

Evan looks at me, still smiling.

“Is that why you do it? Or is there another
reason?” I ask.

“It is for me,” Evan says. “When we ran the
half-marathon last year, it gave me a great sense of accomplishment
to cross the finish line. I had to dig deep to find the strength.
It was like being in a meditative state.” He pauses. “This may
sound a little corny…”

Not any cornier than anything else about him.
But he’s cute, so that’s okay.

“…but when I get to a point where I think I
can’t go any further, where every single fiber of my body hurts, I
pray. And when I do, it feels like He is running next to me,
pushing me further to the finish line. That feeling’s too great to
put into words.” His gaze moves to Rainy and then back to me. “Does
that make sense?”

I nod my head, slowly.

“No,” Rainy says with her mouth full.

Evan blushes and folds the paper napkin, over
and over until it’s a tiny square. “But anyway…” And lifts a piece
of pizza into the air. “Good pizza, huh?”

He laughs. I laugh. “Yeah,” I say. It is
good. He is good. He reminds me of a fairy tale prince who hasn’t a
worry in the world. Of course he’ll get his princess and rule his
land in peace and harmony. He’ll live in a castle and be fed tasty
meals and wear the finest clothes. His princess will have darling
children and they will live happily ever after. What does he have
to worry about? He’s perfectly happy. His prayers are most likely
often answered.

My gaze freezes on his face for a full two
seconds before synapses trigger the muscles in my eyes to roll
away. I catch my breath, shake the dreaminess from my head and
grasp for words to change the subject. “What’s up with the website
you met on? Is it a chat room or what?”

“Sorta,” Caleb says. “It’s for homeschooled
kids to chat about homework and stuff. It’s run through our church
group.”

I turn to Rainy. “And what were you doing
there?”

“I didn’t know it was
that
. I just
found it through a link on an art chat room. If I knew it was a
bunch of homeschooled geeks, I wouldn’t have checked it out.” She
laughs. No one else does. “It was a joke guys. Chaaa.”

Rainy stares at the wall while everyone
finishes eating. “I’m not feeling too hot. I’m thinking I should
probably call it a night.” She turns to me. But I don’t want to go
home just yet—which is a bit strange. Evan seems different and I
want to know more about him. Besides, I’m still pissed at her for
ditching me this morning and not telling me about the date and
everything else she flakes out on.

“Are you sure?” I ask. “Maybe you’ll feel
better if we go outside and get some fresh air.” Please say yes,
please say yes, please say yes. “I mean, only if you want to.”

“Nah, I’m seriously not feeling good. I’m
gonna split.” She stands and slings her bag over her shoulder. “It
was rad meeting you,” she says to Caleb and Evan in the most
fake-cordial voice uttered from her mouth. She looks at me. “Are
you cool?”

Sure, go ahead and ditch me, see if I ever go
out with you again. “Yeah, I’m just dandy.” I glare at her.
Bitch.

“I thought so.” She turns to leave before
Caleb can open his mouth.

“It was nice to meet…you.” Caleb turns to me.
“I guess she didn’t like me.”

Oh jeesh. Thank you very much Rainy. “Well,
she did look a little pale. I’m sure she just has an upset stomach
and that it has nothing to do with you.”

Awkward silence.

Evan taps my foot with his under the table. I
meet his smiling eyes. Yeah, he’s definitely cute.

CHAPTER SIX

“I feel bad for Caleb. Are you sure that
he’ll be alright?” I ask Evan as we sit in his car, watching Caleb
speed-walk up his driveway.

“He’s fine.”

Caleb unlocks the front door to his house,
waves, and disappears into the brightest home on the block.

“So where’s your favorite place for ice
cream?” Evan asks.

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you like Cold
Creamery?”

“Who doesn’t like Cold Creamery?” He puts the
gear-shift into first and takes off down the road.

He flips the radio knob; a country song
blares through the speakers—gag. Then he turns it down to a light
hum, just loud enough to cover the silence between us. The engine
of the newer model Honda Civic breathes beneath the music.

“So, Evan, do you have a job? You’re
seventeen, right?”

“I volunteer during the week. And yes, I’m
seventeen.”
“Really? Where do you volunteer?”

“Mondays and Wednesdays I volunteer at the
Share Home and on Tuesdays and Thursdays I volunteer at the YMCA in
their after-school program.”

“Are you serious?” No sane teenager
volunteers four days a week.

He turns the car into the parking lot of Cold
Creamery. “Why do you ask that?” He pauses and smiles. “Oh, wait. I
think I’ve heard this one before: Goody-two-shoes. Right?”

“No!” I say. “I mean, no,” I say in a normal
volume. “That’s not what I meant. Well, yeah, sure it
is
kind of strange. And you’re the first person I’ve ever met to
volunteer so much. At all actually.”

“That’s why I do it so often. More people are
needed to help.” He unbuckles his seat belt and opens the door.

I crawl out of the car before he gets a
chance to open my door.

Damp air clings to our skin and clothes. We
walk through the dimly lit lot to the entrance. Evan holds the door
open for me.

An aroma of sweet vanilla waffle cones fills
my nasal cavities. My mouth waters. It doesn’t matter that I’m
still full of pizza. The tantalizing smell of tasty desserts revs a
sudden rumble from my belly.

“What’s your poison?” Evan asks.

“I’m kind of an Oreo freak.” Candies and
cookies crushed into little bins sit behind the glass counter.

“I should have guessed. You look like an Oreo
freak.”

My mouth drops open in a surprised grin. “I
can’t believe you just said that.”

He laughs.

The girl behind the counter asks, “What can I
get for you?”

Evan answers, “Well, we have an Oreo freak on
our hands here. So, why don’t you make us a couple of surprise
concoctions using Oreos.”

While the woman creates her masterpiece
behind the counter, Evan pulls out his wallet.

“I can pay for mine,” I say.

“Please. Let me pay this one last time.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay. Thanks.”

We take our treats to a small table in the
back corner.

“You were saying?” I ask.

“Was I saying something?”

“Yes. You were going to tell me about
volunteering. Why more help is needed.”

“Oh, yeah.” He takes a bite of his ice cream.
“Aren’t you going to try it? It’s good.”

I take a mouthful. “This is, like, totally,
the best Oreo concoction ever.” I take another. “But, don’t change
the subject.”

“I didn’t. I merely pointed out the fact that
you hadn’t tried it yet.” He takes a breath. “Promise you won’t
think I’m a weirdo or anything.”

“What? Why would I think that?” Too late, in
a good way though.

“Because most people our age don’t give a
hoot about anything.”

I can’t believe he just said hoot. “That’s
true. But you obviously do, so what’s wrong with that?”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” He wipes his
mouth with a napkin. “I’ve been volunteering since I was five. My
parents are very community oriented, so they started us out in
volunteer work early on.” His eyes twinkle like disco balls. “I’m
glad they did. It’s the most rewarding feeling in the world.

“Have you ever given a gift to someone who
really
appreciated it?” he asks.

“Yeah, I guess. I give stuff to my grandma
all the time.”

“Where, when you gave it to her, her entire
being lights up?”

“No. I guess not.”

“I was going to use that as an analogy, but
if you haven’t, it won’t work.” His pale eyes burn holes through
mine. “Just imagine the happiest you have ever seen your
grandmother. Now multiply that by a thousand.”

I would give anything for Grams to be happy.
If only she could travel to see the world…if only she could have
Gramps back…if only I could buy her a mansion to live in…if only
she didn’t have the burden of my mother, and of me…if only I could
take her nicotine addiction away. If only. I would give
anything.

“Now,” he says. “Imagine having that feeling
every single day. When you help those in need, people who don’t
expect anything from anyone, it feels like that. Those people are
the most grateful, the ones that truly need help.”

“So, you help people because it feels good?”
That’s a bit selfish.

“Yes, but that’s not the only reason. I help
others because they need our help.”

“Oh.” Not so much selfish.

“You want to come with me sometime?” He puts
the spoon in his mouth, not wasting one drop of flavor, reminding
me of a puppy licking his dish clean. Of course Evan is somewhat
like a puppy. The innocence and light about him leaves me wanting
to know more, a desire to dig deeper to find the secret of such
happiness. Is it a trick? Why does he seem so carefree?

“Sure. I think I’d like that,” I say.

“Awesome!” He picks up both of our cups to
throw them in the trash can. “How about on Monday afternoon? What
time do you get out of school?”

“Monday is fine.” I don’t dare tell him that
it’s the first day to my new life. The first day of the rest of my
life. Volunteering will be a great way to start it. Evan seems
happy enough doing it. “Around three.”

“I promise you won’t regret this. I’ll pick
you up at three then?”

We walk out the door. The sky weeps, but
gently. Lights in the parking-lot illuminate the fog, creating a
magical feel, like walking through clouds. Evan opens the passenger
side door for me.

“Hey, do you think Rainy would like to help?”
he asks.

I think she’ll probably laugh her butt off if
I ask. But he looks so hopeful. “She might. I’m not sure
though.”

“Let’s go ask her. Is she at home?” He closes
the passenger door before I can answer and walks around the car to
get in the driver side.

“She might be. Actually, if you ask her, it
might be better.” Only because I don’t think she can say no to a
puppy dog. She will say no to me though.

“There’s no harm in asking, right? Point the
way.”

“Right.”

***

For as long as I can remember, Rainy has left
the window to her basement bedroom open for easy entry without her
parents knowing. It also makes life easier for friends, like me,
who don’t necessarily want to deal with her parental figures—so
annoying and boring. Sometimes I’ll sleepover at her house an
entire weekend without her parents knowing. Yeah, they’re that
involved with her life.