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I feel eyes on me—Shawn. Ivy. But I only have eyes for him. Jeremy.
“I only got a glimpse. Through a window. But it was enough. Even if I didn’t…” His voice trails off, catching on a shaky inhale. “You feel her,” I whisper numbly, my heart pounding. A short nod.
“Will you please look at me?” I ask thickly. He swallows, gasps, and screws his eyes shut like he’s in pain. He drops his hand, shaking his head in a quick, jerky movement. “Jeremy,” I utter brokenly. “I can’t.” “This doesn’t chan—” He snaps his head around, his gaze crashing into mine so fast, I rear back. And in a guttural voice, he says, “It changes everything.”
My babies I'm already sobbing
This scenario is not one I ever imagined. The one with Jeremy walking away. The one with my heart in my throat. The one where it feels as if I’m being physically ripped apart as two timelines converge.
This is a good thing. A good thing… Because Isobel Montgomery is alive. His sister is alive. The girl I loved so desperately, until it almost killed me… The girl I went to war with the gods over… The girl I thought I’d marry one day… She’s alive. She’s alive. This is a good thing… And yet—
It all starts with a twist of pinkies, a kiss to dirt-chapped knuckles, spit, and a wish thrown at the stars.
I don’t have any gifts. Izzy got them all.
Jeremy my sweet boy
dandelion
The best crayon color
They broke the news to us tonight that I wouldn’t be going into first grade with her and Waylon this year. That I got held back.
I can read just fine…in my head. It’s when teachers make me read out loud that my brain and tongue don’t wanna work right, and then I get all sick and achy.
We’re s’pposed to be together. Always. That’s what’s best.” Blinking rapidly, I nod. It’s true. The idea of being separated from her…
Twelve minutes and thirteen seconds. That’s how long I had to exist on this planet without my sister. And Mommy and Daddy said I screamed for every single moment of it.
Jeremy you are breaking my goddamn heart
“Nothing will ever come between us,” she says in that super serious lawyer voice of hers that makes her sound so much older than six. “It’s me and you against the world, JJ.”
“HEY!”
My baby Mason
My lips rise. “Jeremy,” I blurt, and with it, I hear guitar notes and drums and my heart’s a racin’. Just like the song. Just like the song!
For some reason, I find myself shuffling fully in front of him, blocking him.
My heart
The last thing I see before the door closes behind him is his red backpack and the name stitched across the pocket. And all I can think is… I found you.
Sky blue? No. Too blue. Cornflower? No…closer, but no. Cadet blue? No, too gray.
Mason's eyes?
Maybe he’s the best friend I was hopin’ for.
I slide my finger lower, drawing letters across the glass, seeing them in my head as if I was using a pencil on paper. A picture for me and me only. Mason. His name is Mason.
“Momma, who’s Jeremy?”
“The boy in the song. Jeremy the WickEDDD!”
“So who is he?” I demand after a moment. “Who?” “Jeremy.” She runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “I-I don’t know. It’s just a song, baby. Lots of songs have names in them. Roxanne, Layla, Jack and Di—” “But I wanna know who Jeremy is.”
Despite knowing he’s not here—I saw which classroom he went into—I can’t help but search for Jeremy, wishing he was here.
On the other side of the aisle from me, just a step away, is the boy with the black hair, and on his other side, next to the big windows, the girl who asked me if I was from New York City.
He must sense me staring, because he looks over and glares at me from greenish-yellow eyes.
That's my Way
Sucking in my cheek, I wonder what Jeremy’s doing. I wish we were in the same class. I hope no one else is giving him a hard time. Does he have friends? Everyone else seems to.
I can’t help but think of Jeremy, wondering who he sits with at lunch. I don’t know why I keep thinking about him.
But Waylon doesn’t want to be a cop. Or a musician.
Well one of those things is false
“You’ll have to meet my brother,” Izzy says excitedly. “He got held back this year—he’s in transition, so he’s not with our grade anymore. Hopefully next year. He’s really shy, but—”
“Where’s your little boyfriend?… Aw, did he not like you back?”
And then— Mason. Pale blue eyes look around the kitchen from where he lingers in the doorway. When they fall on me sitting at the table, he freezes. And I gulp.
But then a grin lights up his face, and it’s like magic, because Clay’s mean voice in my head from moments ago is gone—poof!—and I feel a smile of my own tugging at my mouth.
“You three will always have each other. That’ll never change. I won’t let it. You’re stuck with each other for life.”
It would be nice if I had a friend that I didn’t have to share with Izzy.
I finally found my superpower, and it was inside me all along. The music… It’s in me.
He cut his hair. It makes me sad, though I’m not really sure why. There’s just a twisty feeling in my chest when I think about it and remember yesterday, when he peeked up at me, long silky blond hair hanging down his face. It doesn’t look bad, but still. I don’t like it. I feel like he didn’t actually wanna cut it. And then I remember. Girl. They called him a little girl. Is that why? But his hair was so pretty…
“Beauty means nothing, if you’re ugly in here.” She presses a hand against my chest, over my heart. “Be kind to people, and you’ll be the handsomest, prettiest boy of all.”
Why can’t boys be pretty too? What’s so wrong with that?
we were all gonna be friends—her, Waylon, me, and her twin brother, JJ. JJ. Jeremy. The boy from the song.
’Cause even if Waylon never likes me, that’s okay. I have Jeremy—JJ—and
“I found Jeremy, the boy from the song,” I tell her, grinning. Her mouth twitches. “Oh?” I nod, and then my face crashes down with a scowl. “People are mean to him too.” Momma’s eyes crease, and her mouth thins. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I shake my head. “It’s okay,” I rush out. “It’s not gonna happen again. He has me now.”
And it all seemed to come down to the way I spoke. The way I walked. My face. My hair. Every little thing about me was somehow wrong, and no matter how hard I tried to hide, to blend in, to belong… Nothing helped.
My sweet, soft boy
They’d laugh at me. All of them. Even Mason…especially Mason…
Never Mason
Something flutters in my chest, helping erase some of my lingering anxiety. He doesn’t know it, but even in my head he makes things better.
somehow we all end up dancing, even me. Just a little bit. Just for a moment. Just for this song. Because I know it’s Mason’s favorite.
Hershey Park
Damn, throwback
Mason lifts his head, grinning, shocking me all over again with those ice blue eyes. I still haven’t found the perfect shade of blue for them, and I’ve tried every crayon and pencil and even paint that exists. Even mixing them all up and blending them together to create my own shade, one I’d call Mason blue, but then every time I look into his eyes, I realize I wasn’t close at all.
“Hi, Will!”
AHH MY BABY WILL
Not for the first time, I wish, somehow, he never met Izzy. That when we met by the swings that day, I wasn’t so quiet and shy and weird, and was able to make him my friend before he could meet her. Claimed him in some way…
