Page 12 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

Before I can say anything, she whispers, “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

“I won’t.”

I give her knee a squeeze as I turn and rest my head against the window, looking at all the flowers still blooming in the late summer's early morning sun.

Her secret is safe with me, because I understand the things we keep to ourselves; the little daydreams we visit of a future are for us, and we’re not ready to share them with even our closest friends. Because even the oxeyes have yet to give me a straight answer to a question that is not just in my head, but in my heart.

As we pass by Mr. McQuinn’s place, my heart breaks at the way it has changed since his wife passed. The equipment they used to work sits where they left it, half swallowed now, metal arms tangled in weeds, the green pushing in like it’s already swallowing up the past. Corn no longer stands tall in the field to the left of the barn. It’s now full of waist-high foxtail grass, broken up by stubborn clusters of ragweed and thistle, all prickly and defiant, and goldenrod that’s already turning yellow—a sign summer is coming to an end. Closest to the road is a giant patch of oxeye daisies.

I hope Mr. McQuinn knows that his wife, who used to teach my Sunday school class, is in Heaven, and that means he should never wonder if that love died too. What they had was beautiful and still is. Like Mom and Dad, Uncle Jack and Aunt Maggie, like the one I hope Becca, Tessa, and I have one day.

He loves me, he loves me not…

I wouldn’t say I love school, but I do love seeing my friends every day, and this building is where it happens. What I could do without is the dozen people slowly filtering through the doors while catching up with their friends. People they haven’t seen possibly all summer, and although I understand, they are standing between Becca and me, getting to Tessa.

When I get shoved from behind, I whip my head around and meet a set of glaring brown eyes as the words, “Watch it,” fly from my mouth.

“Everything good?” Jason asks, throwing an arm across my shoulders.

Her eyes turn less murderous as she looks him over. “Your girlfriend⁠—”

Jason cuts her off with an amused. “She’s our sister.”

“Amanda, these are my friends Jasper and Jason, and their little sister, Jade.” I don’t know why that stings, but it does. “Let’s get you to the office so they can figure out your schedule.”

I watch Ryan weave them through the crowd like he weaves through defenders on the field, untouchable and unstoppable.

Tessa loops her arm through mine as if without our arms linked, I might get lost.

The middle school part of the middle/high school is louder. Like everything echoes a little more off the lockers, off the tile, off the voices that all sound just a little too grown.

Tessa tugs me down the hall. “Come on, we have to see what locker you got.”

“I’m sure I can find it,” I say, even as I let her pull me along as I dig in my bag for my schedule.

“Yeah, but what if you’re in a bad location?” Becca asks.

“Location?” I laugh as I hand it to Tessa. “It’s a locker, not real estate.”

“You have my locker from last year,” she exclaims. “And Becca and I are right around the corner.” She’s already reaching for the dial. “This is fate.”

“It’s a locker,” I repeat, but softer this time.

“And alphabetical order,” Becca says, bumping her hip into mine. “We’re decorating.”

Before I can protest, my bag is off my shoulder and unzipped. Tessa’s pulling out my notebooks, Becca’s digging for anything remotely cute.

“Wait—guys⁠—”

“Move,” Becca says, nudging me aside. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Before I can stop her, she grabs my bag off my shoulder and unzips it.

“Bek—”

She freezes.

“What?” Tessa leans in.