Glancing along the street I see a bunch of the neighborhood kids running into Felicia’s back yard.
Jumping off my stoop in one big jump, because my Converses are kick ass, I dart off that way.
I wonder what they’re doing.
Almost out of breath, I find them all climbing into a makeshift treehouse I didn’t know that was there. Then again, why would I? Nobody invites me to play. Maybe it’s because I can beat them all up.
“Hey guys,” I pant out of breath. Felicia stops mid climb and turns toward me. Her flowered dress is no match for my mesh shorts and tank top. She’s always dressed so pretty. I’ve tried to wear things like that, Momma even insists I do, I just don’t feel comfortable in them. I look like someone put a dress on an ape.
“Look who it is, it’s Tater Tot Tate,” Felicia teases. I scowl, but choose to ignore it.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Felicia is marrying Camden, so we have to get everything ready for the ceremony,” Riley informs, poking her redhead out the club window. “They’re going to kiss!” She giggles.
“It’s not a wedding,” Camden objects from inside the house. I hear him, but can’t see him.
My chest does this weird thing knowing that Camden is playing with them and didn’t invite me. Even more so, my stomach twists in an uncomfortable knot thinking about him kissing Felicia.
“Oh,” I whisper. Not sure of what I’m feeling.
“You can’t play. Sorry.” Felicia shrugs smugly.
“Why not?” She never lets me play with them, I don’t understand why.
“Because, Camden can only marry one person. Duh.” She continues to climb.
I kick at the dirt on the ground.
“Well, I didn’t want to play your dumb game anyways.”
Turning, I head back home.
“Ah, she’s going to cry!” Riley giggles.
“No I’m not!” I’m not going to cry. The sun’s just in my eyes.
Reaching my house, I open the mailbox and find this month’s edition of Sports. Rolling it under my arm I head behind my house. There’s a tree that has a branch that swoops into a U shape. It may not be some fancy clubhouse, but it’s perfect for perching on.
Climbing into my spot, I rub at my eyes and open it. I can’t focus on what it says though, all I can think about is Camden betraying me and playing with them. Kissing them. We always play together. He told me I was the only girl he’d ever play with. That was a couple years ago though. What if he likes Felicia, what if he wants to be her boyfriend? He’ll side with her, and hate me too! I’ll lose my only friend. I shake my head trying to focus on Boomer’s speech after his big win last week.
“Hey.” Looking out of the corner of my eye I find Camden standing down below. He has on a dark blue ball cap that is backwards, a white shirt, and blue jeans.
“Shouldn’t you be locking lips with Felicia?” My tone of voice laced with venom.
He climbs up and sits next to me.
“I told them if you couldn’t play, I wasn’t either. To be honest the only reason I agreed was because I was bored.”
Every boy in school is crazy about Felicia. I’m sure he was more than willing to kiss her. He’s lying.
“Whatever.”
“You don’t believe me?” He pinches his bushy brows together.
“I don’t.”
“What ya reading?” He changes the subject.
I can’t help but eye him suspiciously.
“Oh, is that about Boomer’s win?” His eyes light up as he scoots closer. He smells good, like really good. Leaning in, I deliberately sniff him. It’s fresh, but kind of spicy too.
“I watched his fight last week, he’s got a punch on him.”
“I watched it too. It was amazing.”
“I’m going to be the best MMA fighter there is when I grow up.”
I smile.
“I know you will.”
He looks down, his face turning red.
“I’ll get all famous and I’ll take you all over the world, Tate.”
My heart flutters.
“Not if I become famous first,” I tease. His eyes flick to mine, and I feel as if I was just pushed under water. Quickly I look back at the magazine. Things are getting weird between Camden and me lately. I wonder if that’s why he wants to play with someone else? I wish I knew what was happening between us though.
“It says here that if you want to be a good fighter you need a good boxing buddy.”
I point to the underlying text.
He frowns in confusion.
“What’s that? I mean, what does a boxing buddy do exactly?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I think it’s where you are just there for the other person. You know?”
He nods, but he’s not looking at the magazine anymore. He’s looking at me.
“Do you have a boxing buddy?” His voice cuts out and almost squeaks.
My insides twist oddly. They’ve been doing that a lot lately, especially when I’m near Camden.
“No, do you?”
His pimpled cheeks flush.
“No.”