Page 12

Chapter 12

Graham

Slay a dragon for me --- encourage me to slay my own dragons. I tap my pen against my desk mindlessly. Slay a dragon. How can I do that? Dragons aren’t real, and slaying is murder, which is illegal. So, what do I do? Maybe I should look on Pinterest. My mom is always doing stuff on there. I reach into my backpack to pull out my phone. I’m getting a little stressed out with my timeline. I spent the whole two weeks of fall break helping on Josh’s grandpa’s farm and try as I might, I couldn’t come up with any great ideas for Julia’s list. I did leave a lollipop on her front porch every morning, and I slipped another note under her windshield wiper. I keep hoping that she’ll mention the notes, but nothing yet. I guess I just have to hope she likes them. I keep coming back to slay a dragon for me and I know I need to tackle that one next. It felt like a waste, not using two weeks to try, or even really see her more than her running by me when I was getting home from the farm. At least I earned some money to help with the cause! It’s gotta be easier to woo with cash.

“Mr. Kealoha,” Mr. Dune calls out. “Any ideas on what I am going to say next?” Mr. Dune is cool as far as teachers go, but he is strict on cell phones. It’s too bad I was so zoned into the list that I forgot where I was.

“Uhm, nice shirt?” I guess, trying to hide my smirk. He shakes his head at me, the corner of his lips twitching. He’s wearing a blue t-shirt that says ‘I would tell you a chemistry joke, but I know I wouldn’t get a reaction.’ It’s not wrong. Chemistry isn’t exactly my thing.

“Nice try. Phone away please. Now, tell me what chemical compound could make paint red?”

“Paint? Red? Mr. Dune, you are a genius! Thank you!” The bell rings in the middle of my sentence, making all the students rush out of the room.

“What?” Mr. Dune looks at me, obviously lost.

“You helped me get one step closer to winning my dream girl!”

“I can’t claim to know what you are talking about, but my recommendation is that you don’t tell her you are trying to win her. I’ve seen movies and been around for a while. They don’t like that.”

“Noted, Mr. D. I’ll be sure to let her know how you helped out!” I say, running into the hallway.

“Ah, the real reason I became a teacher. To be a matchmaker.”

I laugh, barely having heard him over the yelling and squeaking shoes filling the hallway.

“Paintballing!” I pant, putting my hands down on the desk that Nathan has just sat in, catching my breath.

“NASCAR!” Nathan says back.

“What?” I say, totally confused.

“I thought we were just saying random things.”

“What? No. Why would we do that? Paintballing is a date idea. For the List. When are you available?”

“For the List? Never.” Nathan reaches down to grab something out of his bag.

“No, seriously. We’ll get a group together—me, you, Fletch, Chloe, Julia, Josie, whoever else you want. We need to go paintballing, and we need at least eight people.”

Nathan holds his hands up in protest. “I love paintballing, but really, I helped you with one date, and I delivered a note. I think I’ve done my best friend/brother duty to bring happiness to you both. I’m out. Besides, if I keep playing Cupid, it’ll get weird.”

“Yeah, you are absolutely not out. Remember: scholarships, college, recommendations, whatever. We get out early on Friday. Let’s go then. Then we’ll get pizza. Tell people.” I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet, unable to stop moving. I’m too excited to stay still. “See ya later. I’ve got a note to write and an invitation to give.”

“Graham! Come back. This is your class,” Nathan yells as I run out the door.

I squeak to a stop. “Right. After school.” I walk back in and give my teacher my most charming smile. “So happy to be here, ma’am. Let’s learn together.”

***

Julia

Graham

Friday afternoon. Date #2. Me. You. Paintballing.

Julia

Yes. Are we on opposite teams? Do I get to shoot you?

Graham

Sure, we can be opposite teams but I’m pretty sure you want to be with me. Ya know, so you can win.

Julia

Haha! You’re right, I do want to win. Let’s be on the same team. What time?

Graham

4pm. Afterwards, we’ll get pizza.

Also, check outside your door. See ya tomorrow.

I open my front door to a bouquet of sunflowers and roses interspersed with lollipops and one folded note stuck behind a tag. The tag says, Number 11. ;)

“Those are beautiful!” Mom says, leaning over my shoulder. “Who are they from?”

“Graham.” I can feel my cheeks flush.

“Really? When did this start?”

“When did what start?” I ask innocently.

“Graham, giving you flowers. And what does number eleven mean?”

I twist the bouquet, crinkling the plastic and breaking some of the greenery. “Remember that list I used to carry around all the time? When I was, like, seven?”

Mom takes the flowers out of my hands, keeping eye contact. “Sure. Your boyfriend list. It was adorable. I love that you’ve always loved love.”

“Well, Graham told me that he could finish the list by Christmas, and if he does, then he gets to be my boyfriend.”

Mom raises her eyebrow. Just one. I’ve always wished I could do that. “Whose idea was this? I’m not in love with how you phrased this.”

“Mom, come on. Imagine if I were the main character in one of those books you read. Wouldn’t it be a great plot?”

“Hmm. Rephrase it and we’ll see.”

I hum, fidgeting with the flowers.

“Julia?” Mom presses. I bobble my head before meeting her gaze. It feels like I am staring at my eyes in the mirror. Maybe it’s time to confide in her.

“I’m a little worried that he doesn’t like me as much as he says he does. He flirts with everyone all the time. Plus he’s Nate’s best friend, our neighbor; you love his parents. It’s a recipe for disaster. So he’s proving that he does like me enough by fulfilling the list. If he does it, then we can date. I want to, Mom, I’m just scared. You can understand that, right?”

“Okay, that’s a much better synopsis. I’m still apprehensive, but I love Graham, and I think you two would be very cute together. I wish you would calm down a little, take a little less responsibility for everyone else, and just let yourself be a teenager. But if this helps, I guess I’ll support it. But you have to tell Dad that you are dating the neighbor boy. He’s watched a lot of TV with me, and I’m sure that will make him nervous.” Mom winks at me. “Now, want to help me make dinner?”

“Absolutely.” I cradle the flowers and walk towards the kitchen.

“Maybe we should ask Nate to invite Graham,” Mom teases.

***

“I’m here!” Graham’s voice carries from the front entryway. Oh, jeez. Mom actually had Nathan invite him? I hope they don’t embarrass me too much.

I had helped my mom get dinner prepped and in the oven before going upstairs to listen to music and study. Okay, full disclosure—I am a bit of a menace in the kitchen so I do minimal amounts to prevent too much damage. My mom is a great cook. It turns out that’s not genetic. It’s okay. I’m good at other things like running and singing. I put away my books before rushing down the stairs to see Graham hugging my mom in the kitchen.

“Graham! It’s great to see you.” Mom pulls back to look at him but keeps holding his arms.

“Aunty! Thanks for the invite. You know that I never turn down your delicious cooking. Now, what are we eating? How can I help?” Before she answers, he heads towards the dish cupboard. He has eaten here often enough that he knows where everything is, but he isn’t normally officially invited. He happened to be here and just hung around until after dinner. I could tell he knew this was different. He was in a green Henley shirt that looked amazing against his skin tone, not to mention was just tight enough to show off his biceps. Man, I really love biceps. He had left his hat at home, his dark hair wavy and gorgeous, wore a pair of nice shorts, and was barefoot. I assume he slipped his sandals—or as he calls them, slippers—off at the door once he came in. His dad is pretty particular about that. Everyone in Arizona wears shoes inside but not Graham, not Uncle Kai. You can take the man out of Hawaii but you can’t take Hawaii out of the man. Graham turns around, his hands full of plates and cups, makes eye contact, and winks. “Jules! What a great surprise!”

I snort and shake my head. “Yeah, don’t oversell it. Mom, where’s Nate?”

“Oh, you know, he had plans with Josh. It’s just the four of us. Oh! Like a double date.”

“Mom. No.”

“Who’s on a double date?” my dad asks loudly from behind me. He doesn’t mean to shout, he’s just boisterous. My dad knows people are afraid of him and he leans into it. There is nothing in his life that makes him happier than scaring people. I don’t get it, but whatever, it makes him happy. Who am I to yuck his yum? In reality, my mom, my tiny barely-five-feet mom, with a big smile and perfect mom hair, is the scary one. Theresa Pritchett is the nicest woman around, until she’s not. She has a mama bear hibernating in there, and there is nothing quite as terrifying as it coming out to hunt.

“Me and you, and Julia with Graham,” Mom explains.

“Graham?” His eyes narrow. “With Julia? My Julia? Since when?”

“Uh…” Graham’s face flushes and looks at me, obviously asking for help.

“Oh, no, I want to see this. Since when, Graham?” I say, taunting him.

“It’s not a date. Nate actually invited me but Aunty mentioned that he isn’t here. Maybe I should go?” He looks a little confused with my dad glaring at him. It isn’t very common for my dad to turn his prank on Graham but I’m thoroughly enjoying it.

“Oh, no. If you want to date my daughter, you are absolutely staying for dinner.” Dad walks over to him and grabs the back of Graham’s neck. He puts pressure on it, forcing him to walk, staying half a step behind him. He glances at me and winks, trying to otherwise keep a straight face. Graham finishes setting the table while I help my mom carry the food to the table from the counter.

“Do you like poppyseed chicken, Graham?” Dad asks, feigning casual conversation.

“Uhm, yes?” Graham could tell my dad was up to something but he couldn’t seem to put his finger on it. His eyes darted between the three of us, and I could see when he decided to relax. “Yes. I love it. Can I have a double scoop?”

“Good work, Julia. You’ve found someone who likes your cooking!” Dad congratulates me. I feel my face flush again. Is there something wrong with me? Why have I been blushing so much lately? Out of the corner of my eye, I see Graham fumble his fork.

“O-oh. Julia made this? That’s… well… uhm.” He eyes his overflowing plate warily. He takes a deep breath, grips his fork, and shovels a bite into his mouth. He closes his eyes and chews way faster than is necessary. Slowly, his face relaxes, and a smile spreads across his lips. “ You made this?” he asks, looking at me with way more excitement than is necessary. Dad lets out a huge laugh, scaring Graham into dropping his fork again. Tears start streaming down Dad’s face. Graham looks confused, and Mom tries to hide the smile behind her hand.

“Ha ha.” I roll my eyes. “You mess up the salt and sugar in cookies one time, and you never hear the end of it.”

“One time?” Mom arches an eyebrow at me.

“Okay, fine. It might’ve been more than once, but still. That was years ago. I haven’t done that in a long time. I am growing in the kitchen.” Graham joins in laughing when Dad and Mom can’t hold it back any longer. “Fine, Graham, I didn’t make this. My mom did. I turned on the oven, opened a can or two, and crushed up the crackers. Happy? I still suck at cooking. But I can make a good batch of cookies.”

“Well, at least you didn’t burn anything this time!” Dad chortles. I make eye contact with Graham, clearly not pleased. His laughter awkwardly trails off. He clears his throat, compliments my mom on her cooking, and asks for seconds.

“Of course!” Mom gushes. “Now, tell us all about the flowers. They’re beautiful. What inspired you to act on these feelings?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dad’s fork is hanging from his hand, full of food, seemingly forgotten. His eyes are wide, and I can’t quite read him. “ Feelings ? Is this really what we want to talk about over dinner? My daughter and my best friend’s son’s feelings?

“Oh, hush, Connor. You’ve said your piece. Now, I want to hear about Graham and Julia’s love story!”

“Love story?” I groan. Is this the most embarrassing meal I’ve ever been a part of? “If you all want me to stay here, this conversation ends now. This is too much.” My face is on fire.

Dad leans forward intently, his gaze switching between us quickly. “Now, wait. These feelings. They are staying out of bedrooms, right? No sneaking through windows or meeting in backyards or old tree forts? I’ve watched a lot of romantic movies with Theresa over the years, and I know what goes on with these teenagers.” He turns his gaze on Graham. “Do you understand me? I know where you live, right down to the bedroom. Like I said, I’m good friends with your dad. I could sway him to my side.” Graham gulps and looks a little confused but mostly terrified.

“Uh. No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. No bedroom feelings.” My dad straightens in his seat while I choke on my chicken. “Whoa, I mean, wait. No feelings in bedrooms or even in this house, sir. They’ll stay in my house, far away from here. Just, no. I understand. I get it. Sorry, sir. No feelings, sir.”

“Good.” Dad picks up his water glass, makes eye contact with Graham and Mom before taking a drink. As he puts his glass down, he looks at me, and I see that telltale twinkle in his eye. He’s messing with Graham, and poor Graham has no idea.

After another hour of eating and cleaning, Graham went home with palpable relief on his face. I wasn’t worried about it. I know Dad loves Graham and loves teasing people more than anything. It’s tough though because he never gives it up. It’s hard to know if he is joking or not, and Graham definitely has not been the target of his game quite like this before. I walk into the living room after bidding Graham good night to see Mom and Dad laughing on the couch.

“Bedroom feelings!” Mom is laughing so hard, I can barely understand her. Dad is wiping his eyes again, and I roll my eyes at them.

“Dad, was that strictly necessary? He was terrified.”

“Necessary? No. Enjoyable? Absolutely. That poor kid. I regret nothing. Let’s have him over once a week at least. That was so much fun. I need to call Kai and tell him all about it. He’ll be so jealous he doesn’t have a daughter so he can mess with her boy.” He slaps his knee for emphasis, looking around for his phone.

Mom calms down, takes a few deep breaths, and pats the couch between them. “Later, Connor. First let’s have Julia tell us all about this. I’ve been waiting years for one of you to finally admit that you like each other.”

“It’s just a bet, Mom.”

“A bet?” My dad raises his eyebrows, looking concerned. “He is betting on you, and you are going along with it?”

“No, no, it’s not like that. Remember my list? Of things a boy needed to do to date me? He bet me that he could fulfill every item on the list by Christmas, and if he does, then I’ll date him for real, starting with Mom’s gala.”

“I don’t think this is—”

“She knows. We’ve discussed it,” Mom interrupts. “It’s okay. I trust her. But remember, baby, trust your heart. It’s a good one, and it won’t steer you wrong.”

“Yeah, especially if you focus on your heart and not all those other feelings, bedroom or otherwise.” Dad cracks up. Nathan walks into the living room just in time to hear bedroom feelings and his forehead creases.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on here?” Nathan asks, looking around at all of us with a half-confused, half-disgusted look on his face. We all look at each other and collapse into laughter with a confused Nathan chuckling before leaving to find some dinner.