Page 1 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

1

BEFORE / SUNDAYS

Jade

The late summer sun blazes down, turning the air into a thick, sticky blanket that clings to my skin. Sweat drips down my face as I scurry between the towering oaks and maples, their leaves casting flecked shadows on the forest floor. The scent of pine needles and damp earth fills my nose, mingling with the distant hum of cicadas.

Ahead, I can just make out the flashes of my brothers' t-shirts, Jason always in gray, Jasper in navy. Ryan is ahead of them, with his white baseball cap on backward. I’m too far away to see the embroidered Blue Valley Saints wings surrounding a football, but I know it’s there; I’ve followed it a million times.

Mom and Dad won’t let the twins wear their BV ball caps when we’re in the woods; they know both Jasper and Jason will have them muddied and ruined in no time, but Mrs. Brooks lets Ryan wear his.

That’s because Ryan takes better care of his things than my brothers. His hats are always sparkling white, just like his sneakers, and his clothes are always unstained and pressed. My brothers once joked that he probably ironed his tighty whities.

Mom was quick to come to Ryan's defense. “It would be nice if my boys took some pride in their appearance.”

Jasper frowned, but Jason always has a comeback. “You take enough pride in all of our appearances; we don’t need to.”

They’re getting further away now, their laughter a faint sound as I weave through the underbrush. I’m sure it’s meant to tease and taunt me, but it does the opposite; it beckons and urges me to move faster and push harder.

My heart pounds in my chest as I run and leap over a fallen log, almost clearing it, but the rough bark scrapes against my shin, and I curse inside my head, immediately feel guilty since it’s Sunday, and we’ve all just been to church a few hours ago. It hurts, but I don’t slow down to see if I’m bleeding; I’m too focused on not losing sight of Ry’s hat. Not an easy task when the undergrowth is thick here, and branches tug at my hair and snag on my clothes as if trying to hold me back, but I won’t be detoured.

The path opens slightly, telling me I’m close to where the forest thins. I see the three of them disappear as they scurry down the bank leading to the creek, where they will cross by leaping onto rocks and fallen trees to the place we have planned to start clearing brush and weeds to make our own ‘private beach’.

Chest heaving, I stop to catch my breath as I stand at the top of the bank and watch the boys who are crossing now. None of them hesitates. I wish I were like them, more sure of myself. At times, I’ve wished I could steal just a tiny bit of their confidence. Jasper leads, hopping onto a flat rock near the edge, testing its stability before springing to the next. His movements are fluid, like an Olympic figure skater in a rugged boy’s body and clothes. Jason follows, mimicking his movements precisely, as they always seem to do. A twin thing, of course. Their sneakers slap against the stone, sending little sprays of water up as they push off. They don’t pause to think; their movements are instinctive, like a bird in flight.

Ryan is slightly taller than they are and easily grabs a low-hanging tree limb. He grips it and swings his legs over like a gymnast, landing on the next rock. He moves differently than they do, but with no less confidence in his ability not to fall. That certainty they carry, it’s not just here in the woods, it’s also how they play on the football field, dodging defensive men as they carry the ball toward the endzone to make a touchdown.

I don’t mean to be slow; I wish I could be like them. Dad says it’s because I’m smarter, my brothers say it’s because I’m a girl, his girl.

I crack open a can of imaginary courage —or as my brothers would call it, whoop ass— and move from tree to tree quicker than normal and am elated when I get to the bottom of the bank before they’re all on the other side. I’ve never been this close before. It’s exciting and encouraging.

When I see Ry look back and notice, the corner of his thick lips twist up on the side so quickly that I could have missed it, and I probably would have if I didn’t feel a faint, electric buzz humming beneath my skin, like a much milder tingle you feel when you brush against an electric fence, when I land on the intended rock without even slipping a little.

Feeling courageous, I leap to the next rock… and miss.

“Way to go, Jade.” Jason chuckles as I try to pull my foot out of the muck beneath the water and fail.

“Quit messing around, we only have a few hours of daylight.” Jasper calls back.

“I’m stuck.” I reluctantly admit as I pull again but end up nearly falling on my butt.

“Only you could get stuck in water,” Ryan grumbles as he kicks off his shoes.

“Let her figure it out.” Jason objects. “She wants to hang with the big dogs; she’s gotta step it up or stay on the porch.”

Ryan doesn’t listen; he steps into the water. “She’s got the snacks in her backpack.”

“Of course she does.” Jason chuckles.

I feel my face burn, embarrassed because I don’t want Ry to know they pick on me for eating twice as much as I did when school was in session, and my body began to change, or at least that’s what Mom told me when I got ticked off because they were being jerks and wouldn’t talk to them for three whole hours.

He moves fast and is bent over, his large, calloused hand wrapped around my ankle in seconds.

When he pulls on it, my foot comes out, but my sneaker stays on.

“Jesus Jade, you’re bleeding.”

I glance down and see that my scratch isn’t as small as I’d thought it was when I was racing through the woods.