Southern Storms (Compass 1)

“Bad at what?”

“Peopling.”

I smiled. “You don’t say?” I said sarcastically.

His lips turned up into a full blown smile, and my stomach knotted up from the sight.

There he was.

The boy I once knew still lived inside the man of steel.

All I wanted him to do was to come out and play a little longer.

15

Jax

Twelve years old

Year two of summer camp

“And did you know there are like four hundred billion birds in the world? But when Kennedy was telling me about them last summer, she didn’t know any names of the birds. That’s why I made this for her, to help her learn more about the birds, because I think—”

“Whoa there, slow down, Jaxson. I swear, I’ve never heard you talk this much before.” Mom laughed as she helped me pack my bags for my second year of summer camp. “It makes me happy that you’re so excited.”

I was excited. I was so, so, so excited.

Kennedy and I had been writing each other letters back and forth all school year, and each time I got a letter in the mail, I’d read it five million times. I couldn’t wait to see her in person. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and honestly I never stopped thinking about her. Would she look different? Would she be taller? Would she talk as much as she used to? I really hoped she still talked a lot, because even though at first I thought she talked too much, I really liked that she talked too much because it meant I had less talking to do.

I guessed she’d looked the same, only better. I wondered if she would think I looked the same, too. I had different glasses and was an inch and a half taller based on Mom’s markings on the living room wall, but other than that I was the same Jax who’d last seen her. Well, my hair was longer too. I should’ve cut it.

I wondered if she’d notice anything that’d changed about me.

“I am excited to see her. She’s my best friend,” I told Mom.

“Hey now,” she said, nudging me in the side.

I laughed a little. “You know what I mean. She’s my best friend. You’re my best mom-friend.”

She leaned in and kissed my forehead before folding up another shirt of mine to put in the suitcase. “That works for me. I’ll gladly accept the best-mom-friend role. Now, do you want to grab the gift you got for her so we can pack it?”

I hurried over to my dresser where two gifts were wrapped perfectly—and I meant per-fect-ly. I’d wrapped them over and over again until each crease line was smooth. It took me over two hours to get it right, but I didn’t care. I wanted it to be exactly right for Kennedy.

I hoped she’d like the bright neon green ribbon. I would never have used neon green ribbon if it was my choice, but I knew it was her favorite color because she was my best friend and I knew those kinds of things about my best friend.

“Do you think she’ll like the gifts?” I asked, my heart feeling like it was stuck in my freaking throat. I’d worked on one of the gifts for months, and the idea of Kennedy not liking it kept passing through my mind.

Mom smiled the kind of smile moms do to make their kid feel better. “She’s going to love it, Jaxson. Trust me. I’m your best mom-friend, after all—I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

The mom smile worked. I instantly felt better.

“Do you think you want to come down to the shop and help me lay out some plans for the houses I’m designing the landscaping for before you leave tomorrow?” Mom asked, closing up my suitcase.

She was trying to open her own landscaping company called Millie’s Haven Landscapers. It was Mom’s heart and joy, and I couldn’t wait until the day she opened up her shop. I loved helping her plan out designs for people. Even though she didn’t have a big official business yet, she helped a lot of people around town with their yards. Plus, she was drawing up blueprints for the acres of land we lived on. “Flowers everywhere,” she’d always say. “Wildflowers blooming throughout the year. That’s my dream.”

I didn’t like getting my hands dirty too much, but I did like being her righthand man. She said someday I could even take over the company for her, but I told her there was too much dirt involved.

I didn’t like messes.

I liked things perfectly neat.

“Or he could come fishing with Derek and me,” Dad said as he walked into the doorway of my bedroom. “Do manly things for once in his life.”

I hated fishing.

I hated the idea of the worms.

I hated the idea of the fish flopping side to side.

I hated watching Dad gut them afterward.