I'm halfway through and am determined it will be out before Christmas.
Prologue
Children dream of things that can
never be – rocket ships, unicorns, leprechauns, imaginary friends, the ability
to fly – and yet are somehow never disappointed because, despite what their
parents tell them, even if they can’t see their dreams with their eyes, they
still believe. Those snatched glimpses, those brief seconds of flight before
the bike tires touch pavement…the magic is there, woven into the fabric of
every day, winking at them and giving them one of those sly, palm-slide
handshakes. Fairies and dragons, magic beanstalks, hidden civilizations and
closet monsters – they all exist.
Teenagers dream of the here and now.
Cars, fast and shiny. Cell phones. Stolen beer. Late nights out. Chapstick
kisses and hands under girls’ sweaters. Perfect hair and trendy clothes,
swimming pool summers and gossip-between-classes autumns. Football. Yearbooks.
And the lofty notion that if it weren’t for parents, or lack of transportation,
if only high school was over already, they’d all be somebody. Fame and fortune are just out of reach and ninety
percent guaranteed. Everyone’s a star on the rise. You can do whatever you set
your mind to…and all that shit.
Those teenagers grow into graduates,
into disillusioned college students who are struck by the unfairness of the
world, as shattered as glass on pavement. There are those dogged optimists who
persevere in their notion of self-worth. But there are many and more who let go
of their dreams completely. Not just the fairytale castles and moon shoes, but
the fame and fortune too. The big house on the hill, the thick wallet. All of
it turns into hopes for pocket change, groceries and rent.
Jordan Walker was no exception. He
dreamed of Olympic medals and golden shoes, of cheering crowds and endless
stretches of red track laid out before him. Then he dreamed of state and
nationals, of college scholarships. He dreamed of the unending support, the
shining face of that angelic, flawless first love that gave him wings.
And then reality reached out with
jagged claws and crippled him just as surely as if he’d torn an ACL. Reality
was more damaging than any injury.
Jordan stopped dreaming, and he
didn’t see any reason to begin again. It was a nasty habit anyway.
1
Then
“Oh, come on. What the hell, guys? I
don’t wanna see that.”
Tam and Jo were in Dad’s oversized
chair, making out like they intended to suck each other’s faces off. Jordan
caught a very unwanted glimpse of exploratory hands and out of place clothing
while he busied himself with shucking his shoes. The two of them broke apart
with a sudden leap, red-faced and breathing hard. Jo straightened her shirt and
sat back against the arm of the chair, teeth worrying at what was left of her
lip gloss, guilty. Tam was at least cool about it, raking a casual hand through
his hair and pretending he hadn’t been caught between come here, baby and oh God, I
can’t wait till we get upstairs.
“How ‘bout a little warning?” Jo
said, indignation coloring her voice. “I thought you were Dad.”
“How ‘bout you guys don’t defile the
furniture I sit on, okay?” Jordan returned. He saw a frown forming and didn’t
give her a chance to respond, cradling his prized envelope against his chest
and going into the kitchen so he could open it under the lights. Forget that it
was the middle of the afternoon, he needed all the wattage he could get shining
down on the letter when he opened it.
As he pulled out a stool at the
breakfast bar, he heard footfalls that signaled he’d been tailed, and he
glanced up to see that the busted lovebirds had followed him. He didn’t have a
problem with the two of them together – he thought they should just fess up to
Mom and Dad about it rather than hide – but it was still an odd shock to be
reminded that Tam and Jo weren’t just friends anymore. And Jo, seventeen and
high as a fucking kite on the kind of feminine love she usually wrinkled her
nose up at, was emotionally invested to a point that worried Jordan a little.
He wasn’t her big brother by much, but he was still older, and it was still his
duty, to some extent, to make sure she was okay.
“College letter?” she guessed, eyes
going to the envelope he’d set on the bar. She put her hands on the counter and
an excited gleam stole over her eyes. “Open it.”
Tam stepped up behind her and looped
his arms around her shoulders and across her chest, his chin on top of her
head. “Where’s it from?”
“University of Florida,” Jordan
said, a grin stealing across his face. He could have just said “Florida” and
they would have known he meant the home of the Gators, but something about
saying the whole title, throwing the “University” in there, made it all more
prestigious.
“Open it,” Jo repeated.
The little orange and blue wink of
the school’s seal up in the corner of the envelope sent a quick flush of excitement
flooding through his system as he lifted it and slid a thin finger beneath the
flap. The tear of the paper was almost musical. By the time he had the letter
out and began unfolding it, his pulse was thumping in his ears. Jo had both her
small hands clasped around Tam’s wrists in front of her, chewing at her lower
lip, excited for him, which seemed to
amuse Tam in a good natured sort of way.
Before his eyes found the words, he
was overcome by a familiar, welcome certainty. He got that way sometimes – certain
– so certain he wondered if he wasn’t a touch psychic, deep down, in a secret,
curious place. Sometimes, before a meet, before a race, before the starter’s
pistol was fired, that kind of certainty was released as if a lever had been
pulled, and his whole being filled up with the sure, welcome steam of it. He
felt that way now, calmed and cooled by the assuredness that what he thought
was in the letter was actually in the letter, and his pulse slowed, his mind
sharpened, and he smoothed the paper across the breakfast bar with still, quiet
hands.
“’Dear Mr. Walker’,” he read aloud.
“’We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted –‘,”
That was as far as he got before Jo
gasped excitedly. “I knew it!”
“How many does that make?” Tam
asked, and even if not excited, he wore the gracious smile of a friend who was
happy for him, and not jealous. Tam didn’t do jealous.
“Seven,” Jordan said. He fought a
smile, but couldn’t help it. He detested bragging, but the truth of the matter
was, he had a total of seven colleges – to date – trying to woo him with track
scholarships.
“And every one of them out of
state,” Jo said proudly to Tam.
Jordan glanced up at them, at the
smile Jo was shooting back over her shoulder, and imagined how sweet it was
going to be to pass the news along to Kelsey. Whichever school he picked,
whatever city and state lured him in, she was coming with him. She was already
investigating the beauty schools in four states, mapping a future around him,
and all those whispered dreams that tasted like wine she’d snitched from her
mom and smelled of the thick cedar bench in her backyard were starting to come
true.
"Keep You" is so good, I can't wait to read "Dream of You"! Keep them coming. You have a great style!
ReplyDeleteI love this. "Keep You" is wonderful and I can't wait to read "Dream of You" I am a real fan of your writings. I ordered "Shelter" today. That way I can read it while you finish up "Dream of You". Looking forward to having it around Christmas. Sure am glad you got rid of those things I had to read before I could submit my comments.
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