Trent Reedy - Stealing Air

He felt good, closer to Wendy now that she had shared these secrets with him. He couldn’t tell her about Blackbird or the Eagle’s Nest, but he could share something to let her know he trusted her too. “Before I left my house today, Alex told me all these things I should do or say—”

Wendy giggled. “Oh no, did he tell you about his famous yawn maneuver?”

“What?” Brian said. How could she know about it? Had she and Alex dated?

“A bunch of us went to the movies last year. He had this big crush on Jess O’Claire, and he did this thing where he acted like he was yawning and stretching his arms, but then he put his arm around her like he was all smooth. She moved to a different seat.”

Brian nodded. “What I mean is that, with you, I haven’t had to worry about all that stuff Alex was talking about.” He looked at her. “You’re just… really great to talk to.”

“Thanks,” she whispered. “You too.”

The quiet that followed somehow felt very different than it had a few moments ago. Brian pretended to read the spines of some of the books. Finally, he worked up the courage to say something. “Would you like to go get some ice cream?”

“Sure,” she said.

He stood up, and they went back down the stairs and said good-bye to Gwen. The Tasty Freeze was too far away, so they picked up soft-serve cones at the gas station. Just like with the hot chocolate at the football game weeks ago, Brian felt really good buying something for Wendy, even if it was just something cheap. It made the whole afternoon feel more important somehow. More like a date, maybe.

They walked through town with their skateboards under their arms, licking their ice-cream cones. Wendy led the way to the railroad tracks and then headed south. She stopped in the middle of the bridge and sat on the limestone edge with her feet dangling.

Brian chuckled. “You sure aren’t afraid of heights,” he said. “It must be fifty feet down.” He sat down beside her, but not too close. He didn’t want to weird her out.

Her ice cream was down to just the cone. “Yuck,” she said. She threw the cone off the bridge and it landed with a tiny splash in the gurgling water. “I hate the cone. It gets all soggy.”

Brian actually liked eating the cone, but he dropped his off the edge as well, watching it tumble to its final plop. “I’d hate to fall off this thing.”

“You mean you’re afraid of heights?” Wendy said. She closed her eyes, seeming to enjoy the sun on her face and the breeze in her long hair.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Brian said.

“You liar.” She opened her eyes, her smile fading to a serious expression. “I think you’re afraid of my brother.”

Brian looked away. He couldn’t tell this girl that he sort of hated her brother.

“And maybe,” she said, “you’re still a little nervous about living in a completely new place.”

“What?” he said. What was her deal? If he wanted to be called a coward, he’d go find Frankie. “I’m totally fine here.”

“Yeah.” Wendy moved closer to him on the bridge. “Me too.” She watched him for a moment with those deep green eyes. Finally, she looked away. “They call this the Runaway Bridge,” she said. “They say that a long time ago, like in the sixties or seventies, these two kids were in love, only the girl’s father didn’t want her to be dating her boyfriend. One day the boy was over at her house. He was supposed to leave before the father got home from work, but on that day, the girl’s dad showed up early. The boy and girl weren’t doing anything, just talking. But the dad went crazy and threatened to beat the boy up. He chased him out of the house and kept after him for blocks and blocks.”

She stopped for a moment. Then she slid her hand toward him. Brian’s heart beat heavier as her fingertips brushed his. Somehow their fingers interlocked and fit perfectly. Her hand was soft and warm, and he rubbed her thumb with his.

“The father couldn’t keep up with the boy, so the boy got away. He ran down the slope and hid on a sandbar under this railroad bridge. The girl was furious at her father and worried about her boyfriend, so she ran away and met her boyfriend here at the bridge.

“Some say they left town together that day — ran away and never came back. Others believe that she eventually went home, but from that day on, whenever they wanted to be together, they’d run away to this bridge.”

“Which story do you believe?” Brian asked.

She looked serious. “It depends on the day,” she said. “And how I feel.”

She didn’t look away. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. Then she moved closer. He wanted to kiss her, but he’d never kissed a girl before. What was he supposed to do? Hoping he’d get this right, he leaned toward her.

“MAD MAX! Get back here!” Frankie’s voice echoed through the woods. “Don’t think you can get away!”

Max came bursting out of some shrubbery at the top of the ridge, just before the ground sloped down to the river, less than a hundred yards downstream from the bridge. Frankie followed a few paces behind.

“Oh no,” Wendy groaned.

“I have to go help him.” Brian let go of her hand and stood up. Then he ran off toward the slope.

“Wait!” Wendy was right behind him.

He ran as fast as he could along the top of the ridge, cutting through scrub brush and ducking under a few low-lying tree branches. Frankie had caught Max by the shirt, stopping him about six feet down from the top of the ridge. When he saw Brian, he put on his evil grin.

“Just who I was looking for,” Frankie said. He shoved Max hard, sending him sliding and rolling down the hill until he splashed into the English River.

“Knock it off, Frankie!” Wendy shouted behind Brian. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Oh, and this dork is here in the woods with my sister!” He tapped at his temple and pointed at Brian. “Hmm. I seem to remember telling you not to even talk to Wendy.”

“I can do what I want!” Wendy said.

“You can. Yes,” Frankie said. “But he can’t.” He grabbed Brian’s arms and twisted him to throw him like he’d done to Max.

“No way, man.” Brian gritted his teeth and gripped Frankie’s arms, pushing back.

“Stop it, you two!” Wendy tried to pull them apart. “Just leave each other alone!”

“No problem,” Frankie said. He stepped backward, throwing Brian off balance. Before Brian could figure out what to do, Frankie planted a foot behind his and pushed him back, sending him flailing through the air.

Brian hit the dirt on his back, rolled up and over, scraped through a prickly bush, and then splashed down in the cold river. He took in a mouthful of muddy water and stood up coughing. Before the water was out of his eyes, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He cocked back his fist, ready to fight.

“Brian, it’s me!” Max said just in time.

Brian checked his punch and wiped his face. He slipped in the mud and fell down on his belly in the water again.

“Let me go, Frankie!” Wendy’s voice echoed down the slope. She struggled to get out of her brother’s grip. “Brian, I’ll call you!”

“You will not!” Frankie said.

Brian crawled up on the muddy riverbank and rolled over onto his back. Max collapsed next to him. He listened to the sound of Wendy and Frankie’s argument fading as they walked farther and farther away.

After a long time, Brian asked, “What is that guy’s problem?”

“In general, I believe Frankie’s a little overprotective of Wendy due to his feelings of insecurity after the loss of his mother.”