Hold on to Hope

Frankie wanted to swear at him, too.

Tell him he was a mother-trucking blowhole and she wanted to kick his skinny butt from here to New Amsterdam. Maybe she would.

But instead she grinned, hoped that blood was coloring her teeth. “Hit me,” she taunted. See what happened then. Her daddy would lose his ever-lovin’ mind and then this stupid jerkface would get a taste of his own medicine.

“Frankie!” Evan’s voice was suddenly filling her ears, scratching and raspy the way it always was, but this time it was covered in something mad and angry.

“You better watch out,” she told the pack of boys, ignoring Evan who she could feel racing back her direction. She wanted to jump in front of him. Protect him. Scream for him to run and hide.

But Evan was dipping down and picking up a big rock and shouting instead. “You touch her and you are not gonna like what happens.”

“Whatever, you freaks aren’t worth it. Let’s go.” Brent lifted a hand and twirled it in the air.

All the stupid boys followed his lead, grumbling and throwing more mean things over their shoulders. Frankie was half inclined to chase them the rest of the way down the street.

But she was too wrapped up in the weird feeling that was coming from Evan, all hard and annoyed.

When he saw the boys were going away, he threw the rock down, and he turned to take back off for the trail.

Frankie darted over to where she’d dropped her backpack and scooped it up by a strap, running after him and trying to sling it back onto her shoulder. “Evan, hey, wait up.”

He couldn’t hear her words, but she knew that he felt them. Knew he knew she was calling out for him.

Her heart started beating funny when he wouldn’t turn around to look at her. He just walked faster and faster, angling through the break in the fence and rushing out into the woods that separated the school from their neighborhood. He hit the trail that led toward their houses before he veered off in the direction of their second secret meeting spot.

They had to have a bunch of them so they’d always know where to find each other.

Only this time, it didn’t seem like Evan wanted her to follow.

She rushed to keep up, out of breath and a step behind him when they finally made it out into the clearing. Big trees touched the blue sky on all sides of the circle. There was only one in the middle where they’d made their fort with Carly and Josiah this last summer.

The grasses that covered the ground had turned brown, crunchy leaves scattered in piles, the kind they used to make leaf angels with.

Evan tossed down his backpack in frustration and threw himself to sitting on a fallen log.

Frankie chewed at her bottom lip and slowly approached.

WHAT’S WRONG? she signed, having to dip down to get in his line of sight when he was trying to ignore her which was just rude after she’d gone sticking up for him, trying not to let her heart quiver and shake.

She hated it when he was mad. Got worried that he might get too upset and make his heart quit.

Fear beaded up in a slick of sweat at her neck, and she suddenly wanted to cry. She rubbed at her eyes really quick to erase the feeling.

He huffed a sigh. “Nothin’.”

“It’s not nothin’.” YOU’RE MAD. “I know you’re mad. You’ve got that look on your face, and you’re all red.” She mixed the two languages together, moving in and out of one, not sure the best way to reach him when he looked so far away.

Distant.

She wanted to reach out and make him come back to her.

Why did people have to be so mean? Hurt bottled up on her insides, this wish that she could take away all the words and the looks and the pity. Everyone thought he was different and she didn’t like it at all. The mean words and the weird looks and the way some adults talked to him like he was stupid.

Even some of the teachers did.

He was the smartest, smartest person that she knew.

She plopped down at his side, planting her elbow on a knee so she could rest her chin in her hand.

He kicked at a rock under his foot, staring at it, finally huffing out a breath and turning to look at her. “You don’t need to stick up for me, Frankie. I’m not a baby. And you’re a girl and younger than me.”

“You’re my best friend. That’s what best friend’s do. Doesn’t matter how old you are. Duh.” She lifted her eyebrows so high they touched her bangs.

He fought a smile, shaking his head more before he let the sad come back in. “I don’t want people to think I’m weak. That I can’t take care of myself. That I can’t take care of you.”