"What?" He looked confused.
"I've never seen you miss." I pointed at the bucket.
"Probably dizzy from being pushed off the porch." He nudged me with his shoulder.
I nudged him back. "Naw. Anyways, this gypsy lady must have seen my wallet on the table. She had me close my eyes and probably flipped through the photos. She must have seen my picture of Jasper with his arm around me."
"Maybe." He shrugged and tossed another pebble, which failed to land in the bucket.
"C'mon. You're not buying into this are you? Besides, chances are good I'd know a blond and a brunette. Heck, she could have tossed in a carrot-top for good measure. Although, that's less likely. I have a picture of us in my wallet too." I pulled the slim, red wallet from my back pocket and flipped through the plastic photo insert. I held up a photo of Henry and me sitting on the porch swing. It was the day my little sisters wanted to try out their new face painting kit. Henry and I played along, although I was surprised Henry had let nine year-old Andrea paint him as a Saint Bernard. I was glad I hadn't been the only one whose face was defiled.
Henry looked at the photo and laughed. "You told me you burned it." He reached for my wallet. I hid it behind my back. "Never! Blackmail forever!"
"You are a brat, Emelia Berggren." He reached behind me for the wallet. I slid it into my back pocket and held my hands forward. "No photo. I made it disappear."
Henry reached around my waist with both hands. His long arms encircled me.
"Hey!" I pushed against his chest.
"Where did it go? That picture has to go." He continued to reach behind my back.
"Damn it, Henry. It's in my back pocket. On my butt. Don't..."
He fumbled for my pocket.
"Not cool! Get your hands off my butt." I tried to push him away, but his strength was greater than mine.
"I'm not touching...that." Face flushed, he pulled his hand away. He lost his balance, toppled forward, and took me with him. He braced himself above me.
His face was inches from mine, but he didn't move. His Hershey brown eyes stared at me. He swept my bangs away from my forehead gently. So. Gently. Goosebumps prickled my arms. My breath hitched, kind of like small, repetitive hiccups. That was new for me.
"Sorry." Henry moved away. "I lost my balance."
I swallowed the dry spot away at the back of my throat. "That's okay." My voice cracked. "Just don't do it again." I lightly punched his arm.
"S'up guys?" A car door slammed and I turned to see Jasper. He was headed up my walk at a determined gait. His blue Chevy Nova had never made a sound when it pulled up. The front end was scrunched from a fender-bender. Jasper had secured it shut with a bungee strap. The engine of his classic car was still as quiet as the inside of a funeral home.
"Do not mention the fortune teller," I whispered in Henry's ear. My heart pounded against my ribs. "He doesn't like them."
"Yo. Jasper. Your 'girlfriend' is blackmailing me." Henry sounded less than irritated.
Nice save. I let out a whoosh of air. If Jasper had seen us goofing around he'd be mad I'd behaved so childishly, but he wouldn't mention it until later when we were alone.
"Oh yeah? What's she got on you?" He hopped onto the steps and glared down at me, still lying flat on the porch. He held out his hand. "What are you doing down there?"
I kept my gaze on Jasper. I tried to read him. Playful mood or jealous? He always accused me of having a thing with Henry, which was absurd. We'd been friends since freshman year, and all we'd ever done was sit on my porch and toss pebbles or work on homework. We'd never walked home together from school and I'd never been to his house.
"I lost my balance trying to keep my wallet from Henry." My voice cracked.
He lifted me to my feet. "Let me see it." His tone made me jump.
"What?" I swallowed.
"What you have to blackmail Henry here with." He extended his hand, his eyes dark.
I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "It's just a silly picture. I was only teasing him about it."
"Let me see it so I can be in on the joke." He wiggled his fingers on his still extended large hand.
"It's okay man." Henry's voice rasped. "It's nothing I'm worried about." He clenched his hands at his sides.
"Emelia." Jasper sounded like my father when he was angry. His hand moved closer to me.
Henry hung his head as I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and showed Jasper. "It's a picture from when my sisters face painted us."
He took the wallet and looked at the photo in the plastic insert. "Hmm. I can see how this would be embarrassing, Fitch." He called Henry by his last name, something he did when he was mad at someone, and pulled the photo from the plastic sleeve. He proceeded to tear it into a zillion pieces and tucked them into his front pocket. "There ya go, man. Gone now." He wiped his hands together. "She has no hold on you now. For blackmail, I mean." Jasper narrowed his eyes.
I almost lost my lunch. I fought back tears when I saw Henry's eyes widen. Embarrassed. I was totally embarrassed Henry witnessed what was soon to be a fight between Jasper and me.
"Oh man, it's cool. I really wasn't worried." The embarrassment in his eyes mirrored mine.
I didn't realize until that moment how much the picture meant to me.
"I'm sorry," Henry mouthed to me as he rode off on his bike.
I waved, but he'd already turned away. "See you at graduation tomorrow," I yelled out to him, despite Jasper's stern look.
3
Graduation Day
I sat between Mack Berg and Pam Bergman at graduation. We were always seated together in our classes alphabetically. Oddly, in a class of 300, we never got to know each other and in fact, rarely spoke. Mack had picked on me since the fourth grade when I threw up in class. Pukey was my nickname for three years, thanks to him, until he threw up his applesauce in the cafeteria during lunch.
Karma. You could always count on it.
He asked me out in tenth grade. I said no, mostly because he'd always teased me. I was saved by a fire drill when the bell rang loudly in my ears. It always made me jump. Rude and unexpected loud alarms. When we returned from the fire drill, Mack asked out the girl in the seat behind me, Jody Brunacini. She'd laughed and said no too. It was not Mack’s day.
Today as young adults, we sat properly, hands in our laps and listened to the commencement speaker, Stuart Landon, the former mayor and now lieutenant governor of our state. As usual my mind wandered. I daydreamed and made mental lists of what I would do after graduation.
My mom and step-dad told me they wouldn't pay for me to go to college. "You'll have to pay for it yourself," Mom had told me while she worked away in her flower bed. "Or get a job, kid." Her voice sounded cold. But, that wasn't anything new. She went on to say they didn't have that kind of money. I had no idea how many bills they paid or how much they were, so I figured they already owed a lot. They had two cars, an RV, and a mortgage. I shrugged and let the subject drop, but not before she told me they made too much money for me to qualify for financial aid since President Reagan made tax and budget cuts to student aid. Mom told me that student assistance and Pell grants had been cut big time. She also complained that subsidized federal loans were now limited to the middle class families, which we were. So, I'd work and hopefully save enough to go in a few years.