Get Lucky: A YA Anthology Page 19

  This is her moment, though, so I force myself to turn and hit a couple of shots that are in no way going to intimidate the Eagle competition.

  * * *

  “Goodnight, 9 Irons!” Penny calls into the cabin before shutting the door. As soon as it’s closed, she turns around with a giant grin. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

  Since it’s basically our last weekend before we head home, the owners put on this shindig on the 18th hole for the instructors. I’m not sure if Penny’s more excited about that, or the fact that Kira hit the ball today in front of everyone. Either way, I can feel something rise in my chest, as if it’s aching to climb out, and the closer we get to the end of the camp, the more urgent the sensation feels.

  “Got a second?” I ask her, as she hops down next to me and we make our way to her cabin.

  “I had a massage scheduled before I get my party on, but I suppose I could squeeze you in,” she teases. My nerves are way too shot to give her a genuine laugh.

  “Uh…” Great, now that I have her attention, I don’t know how to say it out loud. I’d like to tell her what I think of her, how I’ll miss her, that she’s meant so much to me over the years. Obviously, I know nothing can come of it now, but still… I just want to… thank her. But the words get lost somewhere on my tongue, and I find myself staring into her wide, curious eyes without a thing to say.

  I laugh at myself to cover the silence. “Sneak me some food from that thing tonight, yeah?” I grasp at the thought from the sand trap in my mind. “They had the best stuff last year. Don’t want to miss out.”

  Her brow turns in. “You’re not coming?”

  “Training.”

  That gets a small laugh out of her. “Wow. Me going to a party, and you going to work.”

  “Now we know it’s the end of an era.”

  Neither of us smiles at that, and I find it comforting to know that she’ll miss me, too. As I watch her teeth tug on her bottom lip and her finger reach up and play with the end of her ponytail, I frantically search for excuses to see her outside of camp. Like always, I come up blank.

  “I guess I can,” she says, and I have to rewind my brain to remember what out-of-my-butt question I asked her. “But I can’t guarantee it’ll make it to your cabin.”

  She grins as she climbs up the few steps to her door. I stay planted on ground level, completely chickening out.

  “Well, I know you won’t have fun, because it’s impossible without me,” I tease and swivel on my heel, nearly running away from her.

  “Well, have fun getting distracted because it’s impossible to focus when I’m not forcing you to.”

  Half of my mouth perks up, and I wave her off. She has no clue that she’s become more of a distraction than anything else in this camp.

  I make it a few more steps before I hear her call out, “Jensen?”

  My eyes glance back over my shoulder, back to her playing with her hair and nervously pulling at her bottom lip. My brow furrows, and I turn completely around.

  She looks as if she wants to close the distance between us, leaning forward somewhat before changing her mind and doubling back. An unexpected anticipation fills my gut, and I realize I’m hoping for a declaration—one I epically failed at, not two seconds ago.

  I see her swallow hard before trekking back down the stairs and stepping right up to me. Her hand is shaking when she sets it on my shoulder, heat shooting down my arm from the point of contact, and she pushes up on her tiptoes. The softest of kisses brushes on my cheekbone, making my eyebrows jump, my heart trip over itself, and my brain stutter. Her pale, freckled cheeks are splashed rouge as she lowers down, and I wonder if I’m just as red in my dark skin.

  “I’ve heard kisses are lucky,” she says with a lift of her shoulder, and then she lets out a nervous laugh. “And we both know you’re gonna need it.”

  The poking fun helps ease the thickness in the air, but it in no way decreases my feelings for her. In fact, I think they’ve just doubled.

  A small smile hits my lips before I bend down and reciprocate, planting a feather-light kiss to the side of her mouth.

  “Giving it back,” I explain in a light, airy tone. “Because we both know that you need it more than I do.”

  She playfully shoves me, but her hand lingers against the material of my shirt. After a few silent seconds, she jolts back with her realization of it. A swivel of her heel and another few seconds later, she turns with a wave then closes herself in her cabin.

  The urge to go after her is mighty strong, but I manage to fight it and head out to practice for a win.

  * * *

  The whole camp is out today, standing behind the boundaries to give all us players some space. Chris bobs his head to me in good luck, and I return the favor before letting my eyes search the crowd for Penny.

  The please keep quiet signs go up, and I step back so Chris can hit. My eyes drift to my glove, and I fix the tightness while I wait.

  I’ve never been nervous before a tournament. There was never pressure to do anything but play. Now there’s this weight I can’t seem to crawl out from under, and I’m just praying it doesn’t mess with my swing.

  Johnson hits a great shot, the ball landing right in the sweet spot for this hole. The crowd around us claps and whoops, the younger campers getting really noisy. They increase their volume when I step up, and then keep that enthusiasm going until the signs get put back into the air.

  My hands are shaking, which isn’t gonna help any, so I take a deep breath and pretend to need a few practice swings. This is for Grandpa. It is. It’s what I’ve been telling myself. But maybe… well, maybe it’s for me, too.

  I glance up, and, as if that lucky kiss she gave me is finally kicking in, I lock eyes immediately with Penny. She gives me a wide, toothy smile and, like she knew I needed it, exaggerates a very wet, blown kiss.

  My shoulders move with laughter, and I shake my head at her playfulness. My breath whooshes out in sweet relief, and that weight I’m buried under dissolves. I look down my club to the Titleist resting on the tee. With a relaxed smile on my face, I bring the driver back and swing.

  Chapter 9

  Best Buds (and first loves)

  Penny

  The last day of camp is always a sucky one. There’s that feeling of only three more weeks of summer, or exhaustion from packing up stuff, or the worst of it—saying goodbye to your buds who don’t exactly live within walking distance.

  But this year takes the cake of all sucky camp endings. Jensen has yet to know that he has claimed the title in my memory as “first love” and it’s not that I haven’t had opportunities to tell him, either. There were so many times—after Kira had hit her first drive, when I ran into him on the course right before the Eagle, after the Eagle when he snagged the winning spot…

  No, every perfect time I could’ve said something, and I didn’t. Instead, I just muttered out nonsense sarcasm or teased the living crap out of him because that’s comfortable. That’s what we do. That’s why I’m so in love with him—he makes me a much happier and stress-free person.

  I drop my golf bag into the under-storage of the bus along with my duffle, and then rub my shoulder to relieve the ache. There are campers all around me hugging and saying goodbye, smiles all on their faces because they’ll see them again next year. No one can turn my frown upside-down this year—not even Jensen. He’ll most likely make me cry, and I really don’t want to do that.

  The buses start loading passengers, and my heart drops to my stomach. I prayed all last night that God would stop time and never make me live this moment, but I think God’s a joker, too, because time did the complete opposite of stopping.

  I blow out a breath and look around for Jensen. I will hug him. I might not let him go.

  My heart pounds faster when I can’t locate him, and Jensen is not a hard person to locate. He’s the loudest one here. I strain my ears along with my eyes, hoping to hear his laugh before I see him. But maybe h
e’s not laughing because this day is sucky for him, too.

  “Five minutes, and everybody needs to be on their bus!” one of the owners says over a megaphone. Panic laces into my veins, and I start pushing through people to try to find him. He’s not on his bus already, is he? He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Not this year.

  I go over to his bus and start jumping to see in the windows. “Jensen!” I call out, but I don’t see or hear him, and one of the guys on the bus shrugs when he looks around for me.

  “Three minutes, people!”

  No, no, no! This can’t be how we end things. I don’t remember what the last thing I said to him was. I know it wasn’t “I love you,” and now I’m freaking out that it wasn’t anything significant. Probably some lame joke or “I have to go to the bathroom.” Crap, I remember saying that because we didn’t stop talking and I was starting to pee dance outside my cabin.

  Bathroom cannot be the last word I say to my first love.

  “Two minutes!”

  My panic has now morphed into a tangible substance, pooling in my eyes as I frantically run up and down and in between every bus. There’s a pain in my chest that’s breaking and cracking and piercing my insides, and I can’t believe this is how it ends. I don’t get a final goodbye with the best friend I’ve ever known, my shoulders slump in utter defeat, and I stand stationary as campers rush past me to get to their proper bus on time.

  I wipe a stray tear from my cheek, praying there won’t be more when we pull out to go home. After a deep, shaky breath, I take an unwilling step toward my bus.

  Then immediately get spun around.

  “Seriously, stay in one spot,” he jokes before I’m wrapped into his arms. The warmth and relief and happiness that overtakes me is so jarring from where I was a second ago that those tears I didn’t want to come out start trailing off my chin, soaking into the material by his shoulder. I squeeze onto him tight, fingers curling into his shirt.

  “One minute, guys!”

  Both Jensen and I tense, and his breath comes out warm by my cheek.

  “Gotta say this fast, Pen,” he says, pulling back and dropping his hands to mine. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you for these eleven summers. You were what I looked forward to when camp came around. You have been, and always will be, my best friend.” He pauses a second to let his lip come up at the corner. “I love you. And I just need you to know that you’ve been a big part of my life, even if it’s just four weeks out of the year. So… thank you.” He pulls me in for another airtight hug. “Thank you.”

  My heart floats up somewhere in my throat, making it hard to say it back. He’s been all that for me, too. I could easily say, “Ditto,” and call it good. But I want to say the words, too. Say them back.

  “I… I love you, too.”

  “On the bus, everyone! Now!”

  Just when I thought time would never stop, it does. Jensen pulls back, only to grab my face and reel me back in. Our lips meet like they’ve been doing it a million times already, like we know each other so well that there is no learning curve. My fingers curl into the fabric by his waist, and his thumbs coax my mouth to open further. My entire being is burst open with joy, unaccompanied by the sense of loss or sadness, just for this moment, because what I thought was wasted time wasn’t at all wasted. He gave me so many summers of what I needed—a friend. And I couldn’t have asked for a sweeter, more real goodbye than this one.

  It is the most perfect moment of my life.

  Epilogue

  First Loves (and best buds)

  Jensen

  I click on the call button on the chat window, and, a few seconds later, Penny’s face lights up my screen.

  “You’re lucky I answered,” she says. “Ten minutes ago, I wasn’t wearing a shirt.”

  My mouth splits open into a grin and, before I can get out the comment, she points a finger at me.

  “Don’t. I already have imagined several versions of what you’re about to say to that.”

  I laugh. “So, you out for fall break?”

  She nods. “I plan on doing nothing but sitting on my butt and watching TV all by myself.”

  “Hmm… you set on that plan?”

  “I’m always good at keeping plans.”

  I grin, and then take the steps two at a time to go knock on the red door I’m standing in front of. “Well, I think you should be a little flexible.”

  Her brow furrows, and then I reach up and tap the brass knocker against the wood. Her head turns.

  “Hang on.”

  I can’t keep the grin off my face. My stomach has been tied in knots all week, planning the surprise visit, and I’m not sure how long I can wait to kiss her again.

  Penny’s desk chair swivels as she leaves it, and I swipe end on the face chat. I tap my hands on my front pockets until I hear someone press up against the door, and I smile for the peephole.

  There is a lot of fumbling for the locks, but, when she finally gets them open, she flings herself into my arms. If it weren’t for my incredible balance, she would’ve sent us both off the porch and straight to the hospital.

  “What… how are you…” she stutters, but it’s quickly cut off when our mouths meet. Her feet drop back to the porch, and I hold onto her face, keeping her close as I attempt to kiss her through the wide smiles on our lips.

  “Drove in,” I tell her between kisses. “I plan on road-tripping a lot this year.”

  She grins. “Like, every weekend?”

  “I wish,” I say with a laugh, before giving her another kiss on the lips. We go until we’re out of breath, and she pulls back, bright, happy eyes flicking up to mine.

  “Yeah, I can be flexible in my plans,” she says, and she tangles our fingers together and leads me into the house. She pushes me into the overlarge couch in the main living room, grabs the remote, and cuddles into me. I almost tell her it’s good to smell her shampoo again.

  “How is this being flexible?” I ask, as she turns on Netflix.

  Her smile turns sly, and she clicks on Freaks and Geeks from where we left off last summer. “I’m not alone.”

  I laugh, give her another kiss, and then we settle in for a binge. It’s a good feeling—being with her outside of camp, in her home, like we’ve never been apart. That’s the thing about best friends, though. That’s exactly how it is.

  I’m just darn lucky that my best friend is also my girlfriend, and I’m going to enjoy all the perks that come with that.

  Someone I Used to Know

  By Tessa Marie

  Chapter 1

  It had been five years since I was forced to spend my Spring Break with my parents at their friends’ lake house. Five years since I had to put up with their annoying son, Hunter Davison, who thought throwing frogs at me and watching me scream was the greatest activity since tubing. Unfortunately for me, this year, the annual Robotics Camp was cancelled because Mrs. Langston had to go and get pregnant. I’d so much rather be working with machines than spending my week in a technology-free zone with a frog thrower.

  I put my worn copy of Wuthering Heights down, and stretched my legs out as best as I could in the backseat of Dad’s Subaru without kicking my little brother, Joey. It had been a long drive from New York to North Carolina and, while I wasn’t exactly looking forward to our destination, I was looking forward to standing again.

  Mom rolled down the window, and my dirty blonde waves instantly got sucked into the whirlwind. She inhaled deeply. “Can’t you just smell the fresh air?” she exclaimed.

  “All I smell is Joey’s feet,” I mumbled.

  “My feet don’t smell!” Joey yelled and then proceeded to stick both of his oversized feet in my face. I wrestled with his dingy socks, trying to get them as far away from my nose as I possibly could.

  “Mom, tell him to stop!” I called out, and landed a good smack on his leg.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Mom said and, with one last thrust of his foot toward my nose, he finally retreated to
his side of the car.

  “Real mature,” I groaned.

  “I’m ten. What’s your excuse?” he said, with his signature smile that could have an old lady pinching his cheeks in seconds.

  I looked at him, his blond curls a complete disarray on his head, and laughed. I reached over and rustled his hair which won me a few arm smacks before I put my hand back in my lap. My brother could be a royal pain in the butt, although, for some reason, I still loved the little dweeb.

  “We should be there in a few minutes,” Dad said, and I think it was the first words he uttered since we got in the car. He was a man on a mission, and I doubted we would have even stopped if it wasn’t for Joey whining that he had to pee for twenty minutes straight.

  “Yay!” Joey exclaimed. He had been coming to the Davison’s lake house with my parents for the past five years and had become close to the Davison’s youngest son, Parker, who was only a year older than him. According to Mom, once we pulled into the parking lot of the Davison’s, I would barely see either of them. Which was fine by me. It was bad enough I had to spend my Spring Break in the middle of nowhere. The last thing I wanted was to have to entertain a ten and an eleven-year-old.

  I couldn’t wait to flop into my bed for the week, and curl up with my books. It was my only saving grace.

  “Charlotte,” Mom said over her shoulder. “When we get there, I don’t want you cooped up in the house.” I swore my mother had the ability to read minds. It was both frightening and insanely annoying. “There is so much to do and see. I don’t want you to miss it because you’ve had your nose in a book all week.”

  I laughed. “A parent who doesn’t want her kid reading. I think there’s something wrong here,” I joked.

  “Don’t be smart. I’m just saying that there’s an entire world worth living, if you just give it a shot. All those adventures you read about, you can be experiencing them for yourself. I love that you read. I just don’t want you to look back one day, and wish you would have put the book down. Besides, Hunter will be there.”