Heehee, I'm so excited to be writing the summer portion of Tucker's POV! Happy Birthday Clara (so jealous that you have Mr. Absolutely-Positively-Gorgeous-And-Sweet-And-Funny-And-Everything-A-Girl-Could-Ever-Want-In-A-Boyfriend spend time with you)! Read, enjoy, and review! X)P
"Breathe, Tuck, breathe," I say to myself as I work over the nerves in my truck. "Just walk in, give her the shoebox and wait for her reaction. If this plan doesn't work, it's all on Wendy."
Today was the day. June 20. Wendy called yesterday to go over (for the millionth time) what she had planned for today. Okay, I'm ready for this. I get out the truck with the shoebox tucked under my arm. It's all good, Tuck. Go with the plan and you'll do fine.
It feels as if I'd taken a whole lifetime to get to Carrots's porch, but here I am. Wendy told me that Carrots's mom was in California for the time being and that Jeffery was busy cruising somewhere with his new car. In other words, she was completely alone. My palms start to sweat. It's finally happening; I'll finally spend some time with her. No Wendy, no Angela, no Christian, just us.
Everything starts to sharpen. I thought I could see the particles in the air and hear the birds chirping from a mile away. I could feel the Jackson Hole sun shining on my back, burning me through my shirt. I lift my hand and then knock on the door. I drop my arm and hold my breath.
In no time, Carrots opens the door. When she sees me, her eyes widen just a little and a little smile is forming on her lips. I don't know if she's conscious of her smile, but it makes my heart soar. She's finally smiling at me!
"Hi," she says.
"Hi," I say back. Smooth.
I focus on the rest of her and notice that she's in pink pajamas with the word 'princess' embroidered on the right side of her shirt. I purse my lips to fight off my laugh. She's so adorable but I never would've guessed that she would own pink pajamas much less ones that say 'princess' on them. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I've had my fair share of princess experiences growing up with Wendy.
"Just get up?" I ask.
She looks down quickly and realizes that her hair is wild and she's in her pj's. God, I love her. She takes a step back into the door and raises one of her eyebrows that I notice are not orange. That's weird.
"Can I help you?" she asks. Uhh… Well, I'd be honored for you to jump into my arms and kiss me… I mentally shake my head.
I hold out the shoebox. "Wendy wanted me to give this to you," I say. "Today."
She gingerly takes the box out of my hand and I can see how happy she is that Wendy remembered.
"There's not a snake in here, is there?" she asks jokingly. No, there isn't. I think. There's something better.
I grin at her. "I guess you'll find out," I say.
I'm surprised that she starts to turn back into the house, but I don't move. Wendy's orders. She glances at me wondering what else there is.
"What, you want a tip?" she asks. Ha-ha. Good one.
"Sure," I say.
"I don't have any cash," she says. "Do you want to come in?"
"Thought you'd never ask," I tell her. She motions me inside and I start getting nervous and excited at the same time. I think I should pinch myself. Just to make sure I'm not dreaming.
"Wait here," she says. She puts the shoe box on the kitchen counter and sprints up the stairs.
I turn in a circle. It's very clean in here. I started wondering if Carrots could cook. I decide that it's a little creepy wondering if the girl of your dreams could cook so I head to the living room. I doubt she'd mind. At least I wasn't attempting to sneak upstairs. I sit on the couch and wait. Should I pose or something? Wait. That's stupid. I hear her coming down the stairs and make a decision on the spot. Pose it is then. I put my feet on the coffee table and look out the window at the aspen tree dancing in the wind, trying to be as casual as I can.
She's there. I can feel it. But all I can think to say is, "Nice tree." And we have a winner! The world's lamest pick-up lines award goes to the one and only Tucker Avery! I really don't do very well under pressure…
"Open it," I say next. We're getting somewhere.
I hear her shuffle to the kitchen to open the box. I know what's inside. They is a pair of Wendy's hiking boots that she's worn for about a year for hiking and chores and a note that Wendy wrote before she went to D.C. I opened it about a week before today (with Wendy's permission).
"There's a note," I tell her. Nothing wrong with a little reminder. I think about the little note that I'd already memorized and imagine words, pretending that I'm reading it with Carrots. I start to relax at that thought.
Dear Clara, I am so sorry I can't be with you on your birthday. While you're reading this I'm probably shoveling horse puckey or worse, so don't feel too sorry for yourself! The boots are not your birthday present. They are a loaner, so take care of them. Tucker is your birthday present. Now before you get that mad face, hear me out. Last time we talked, you sounded lonely and like you weren't getting out much. I refuse to allow you to mope around your house when you're surrounded by the most beautiful land ever. No one on earth knows this part of the country better than Tucker. He is the finest tour guide to the area that you are ever likely to meet. So suck it up, Clara, put on the boots, and let him show you around for a few days. That is really the best possible present I can give you. Big hug! Love,Wendy.
As I remember the letter, I think about how much I owe Wendy for this. She really is the best sister anyone could ask for.
I haven't looked at her. I don't know why. Maybe I think that if I look, all this will disappear and I'll find myself in my bedroom or something. I know, silly. But I feel her eyes on me and I know she's done reading. I sigh inwardly. My turn.
"She wanted me to sing you a little jingle, too, like I'm a singing delivery guy," I say. It was a suggestion over the phone a week ago that I immediately vetoed. I found it weird that I was still talking to a tree, so I decided to glance at her without another thought so I wouldn't talk myself out of it. My breath caught in my throat again. That seems to happen very often lately. She's wearing a yellow-and-blue flannel shirt and jeans with her hair tied back in a braid with her usual amount of minimum make up that I liked. Even if I saw her every day for the rest of my life, I would never get use to how beautiful she is. I smile at her and remember what I was going to say before making a fool of myself. "I told her where she could stick it."
"She says…"
"I know," I tell her. I sigh inwardly and look at her again. I'm suddenly very aware of the fact that it's only us two in her house, but I can't do anything. We're not together yet and I bet she doesn't really like me all that much. I sight inwardly again. She's got a little look of hurt in her eyes that I can't place. I realize that sighed out loud as well. Oops. Way to go, Tuck, you've hurt the lady's feelings. I get up from the couch and look at her. I didn't really know what to do today. I have no idea how a girl's mind works so I'm completely clueless about what a beautiful 17-year-old would want to do with a guy like me on her birthday. She's seen the mountains in Cali since there are some right next door to the state, she's probably been hiking and fishing too. Hmm… I wonder if she's seen a river before. I've got just the plan now.
"What?" she says a little hotly. I don't know what I did to make her frustrated, but now wasn't the time. We had to go now while the day is young!
"That's pretty good," I say looking at her clothes. "But you'll have to go back upstairs and put on a suit."
"A suit?" she asks. Oh, she doesn't know if I'm talking about a tux or a swim suit. I smack myself mentally. Way to think it through, Tuck.
"A swimming suit," I clarify.
"We're going swimming?" she asks. Does she not want to? Does she have other plans? Can she not swim? Does she not like the water? She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. She starts blushing and then blinks away. I have to restrain myself so I won't go pull her in a hug and kissing her cheeks so she would blush more. She's so cute when she blushes.
I snap out of my fantasy and gesture toward the stairs. We aren't really going swimming, but cannon balling is guaranteed. She smiles at me and runs up the stairs again. I'm relieved that she's so enthusiastic about this. I start to get a little confident about this whole spend-time-with-Clara-and-get-to-know-her-over-the-summer plan. Wendy was right about one thing in the letter, I'm the best tour guide around when it comes to Jackson's natural beauties.
A few minutes pass, and Carrots comes back down looking like she did before with a towel in her hand. I tell her to put the boots on. After she's ready, I walk her to Bluebell and open the door for her. I walk around the front and get in. My palms start sweating again. She's in my truck. We're going to Hoback River. In my truck! I'm ecstatic; I can't believe this is finally happening. We haven't been in the same vehicle since prom night (which I promised never to discuss again).
We drive along the road in silence and I can tell that Carrots is a little uncomfortable. I'm not sure why, whether it's because she doesn't really like me or if she does like me but is nervous about being in the same space. Then she says:
"Does this thing have air-conditioning?" Stop overreacting, Tuck! I grin and shift to a higher gear. Then I reach across Carrots to roll down her window. I haven't been that close to her since we danced at prom and it gives me goose bumps even though it's hot enough to cook scrambled eggs on the roads.
"I could have done that," she says. She's still a little tense. I give her an easy, relaxed smile and she answers it with one of her own.
"That window can be tricky," I tell her. After that the drive is silent but after I reached across her to pull down the window my mind's been a little distracted. So I start whistling the first song that comes to mind, which so happens to be "Danny Boy". That tune has been stuck in my head ever since Wendy sang it at the Spring Choir Concert. I steal a look at Carrots and see that her arm is out the window and she has a light smile on her face. Her head is bobbing a little and I can tell she recognizes this tune.
We turn on the highway toward the school when Carrots asks, "Where are we going?"
"Hoback," I tell her. I shoot another secret look at her and catch her expression of dissatisfaction. I mentally laugh. There are tons of "Hoback" places, so obviously she can't figure out which one is that we're going to.
About half an hour passes and I take the left at the crossroad after the Hoback General Store. We cruise toward the mountains and on our right is the fast-flowing green Hoback River.
"Is that the Snake River?" she asks as she pulls her arm in from the window.
"Nope," I say. "That's the Hoback."
I can smell the river and pine trees from the open window on Carrots's side of the truck.
"I love the smell of sage," she says and takes a deep breath. I don't know why, maybe I was just nervous and excited all over again because we were making some conversation, but I blurted out a fact that our Biology teacher taught us in our freshman year of high school about sage. I snort as I remember the way Mr. Barnes said it.
"Sage is a fighter," I say. "It spreads over the land like wildfire, sucking up all the water, the nutrients in the earth, until everything else dies.
"It's a hearty little plant, that I'll give it. But it's gray and ugly and ticks love to hide in it." Yup, Mr. Barnes was sage's number one fan. "Have you ever seen a tick?" I ask curiously. I look at her and see her expression. It's shocked I guess. Oh darn, maybe that was a little aggressive… Nice one, Tuck. Bravo! I cough and say, "Sage does have a nice smell."
Thankfully, before I could have another chance to chase her away, I swerve into the small grassy turnout that everyone uses when they come. We get out the truck.
"We're here," I tell her, turning to face her to see that she's starring at the 'PRIVATE PROPERTY. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT' sign with a wary maybe-this-isn't-the-best-of-ideas look. I raise my eyebrows at her before she turns to look at me. You coming?
I swing myself through a gap in the log fence and hold out my hand. I haven't held her hand since prom. Please please please it's not sweaty and gross. She takes it and I thread her through the fence. I continue to hold her hand as I lead her to the Jumping Tree (that's what everyone calls it) so she doesn't fall on the beer cans littered everywhere… And also because I don't want to let go just yet.
At the bottom, I stick my towel at the base of the Jumping Tree and start stripping. My ears start to get warm when I realize I didn't warn her to turn away but when I look up, she has her back toward me unbuttoning her flannel shirt. I blush some more and turn to look at the river so she won't beat me up for being a Peeping Tom or something. I hear her move her stuff somewhere to my right but don't turn to look.
"What now," she asks.
"Now we climb the tree," I say. Let the fun begin!
I think it's safe to look at her now. I turn to face her. Wow. She looks stunning. The sapphire blue color of her bathing suit makes her eyes (that are currently looking at the rope and ladder) look even bluer than they are. The cool river breeze is stirring some of her hair that escaped her braid. I am never going to get tired of watching her.
"I think maybe you're trying to get me killed on my birthday," she says teasingly. I know she's nervous, she teases more when she's nervous and I can see the worry in her eyes that she's trying to hide. I can't say the Jumping Tree is exactly 100% safe, but it's sturdy enough. I think.
I smile at her, hopefully reassuring her.
"Why don't I go first?" I ask. That way if I come crashing down, she won't get hurt unless I fall on her. I don't let her say anything and start to climb. My hands and feet move on their own after coming here hundreds of times every year. I reach the top in what seems like no time and grab the rope. I look down through a gap in the branches of the tree that will just barely let me see her.
"Come on up here," I say. "There's room for two."
I watch as she climbs the makeshift ladder a little awkwardly. When she's on the last few rungs, I give her my hand for the second time today and haul her up to the highest branches.
I turn to grasp the rope I let go of when I hauled her up. When I have a hold of it, I turn my face up toward the sun and close my eyes. This was my favorite part as a kid. This and the jumping of course, but I loved being up this high with the sun's warmth enveloping me. I always felt like the king of the universe when I was up here.
"They call this the Solarium," I tell her with my eyes still closed.
"This, like where we're standing?" she asks. "The top of the tree?"
"Yeah," I tell her. I open my eyes and adjust to the light. "Kids from school have been coming here for generations," I say. Which is true, everyone at Jackson who's been here since they were a kid has come at least a thousand times.
"Hence the private property sign," she says, turning away to look toward the road.
"I think the owner lives in California," I say wryly. Crap, I didn't mean to insult her!
"Yay for us," she says with her voice laced with heavy sarcasm. "I won't actually get shot on my seventeenth birthday."
"Nope," I tell her while readjusting my hold on the rope. I bend my knees. "You'll just get wet." At that, I leap out of the tree. I holler as I let go of the rope and land in the green waters. I come up for air after the shock of the cold and see her still standing there in the tree. I wave at her as I'm swept downriver.
"Come on!" I yell. "You'll love it." There's no way anyone wouldn't love this.
She grips the rope more firmly and jumps. I hear her scream as she lets go at the last second. She pops back up, coughing up river water and I see her struggling against the current. I tense up. I have to go help her. I go back under and swim my way toward her. I see her through the murky waters and snake my arm around her waist. I come up for air and almost knock heads with Carrots. I tighten my hold on her with the only thought on my mind being that I have to get her safely to shore. One minute we're in the river, the next we're gasping for breath on the sandy riverbank. I see out of the corner of my eye her flop on her back next to me to watch a cloud pass over. I want to laugh in relief. I pulled her out safely.
"Well," I start, not knowing what's going to come next. "You're brave." That was true.
She glares at me in a I-really-want-to-punch-you way. I try not to laugh.
"That was dumb," she says. "We both could have drowned."
"Nah," I tell her. I would never have let her drown. "The river's not so fast right now. I've seen it worse."
She sits up to look toward the Jumping Tree which quite a long way away.
"I guess the next step is to hike back to the tree," she says, the words coming out clipped. My Carrots is getting a little irritated now, huh? I chuckle and answer , "Yep."
"Barefoot," she says, bordering to frustration.
"It's pretty sandy, not too bad," I say to reassure her. "Are you cold?" I ask. She looks back at me before I can hide the fact that if she was, then I would be glad to put my arms around her to warm her up. She looks a little flushed and I'm not sure if it's because of the sun shining on our faces or in she's embarrassed to be this close to me, but she sure does look adorable.
She scrambles to her feet and starts fast-walking up the riverbank toward the Jumping Tree. I jump up to walk beside her.
"Sorry," I say. I felt bad that I didn't tell her about the Hoback's usual fast currents. "Maybe I should have warned you about how fast the river is."
"Maybe," she agrees. I look at her and I see that her shoulders aren't tensed and she's not glaring up ahead. That's a relief, I didn't want to make her angry on her birthday. "It's okay," she says.
"Want to try it again?" I ask her, and smile. It really is fun to jump off the Jumping Tree, and it's even better doing it with her. "It's lots easier the second time."
"You really are trying to get me killed," she says and shakes her head at me incredulously. "You're crazy." She smiles at me. I guess that's a semi-compliment, semi-insult?
"I work for the Crazy River Rafting Company during the summers. I'm in the river five days a week, sometimes more," I say. I've just basically proved that I live everyday with crazy.
She looks back ahead with an intense look on her face, thinking. I wonder what she's thinking about it.
"Tucker!" someone up ahead yells. "How's the water?"
"It's good!" I call back. "Nice and smooth."
As we reach closer to the tree, I see that there are two other people (Ava Peters and Emily Heinz) who've joined the party. Clara sees the group and sets her shoulders in determination. She climbs up for another go and whoops instead of screaming. I follow her. By the fourth time she jumps, her face is lighting up with the confidence that I've seen in her when she skied and rode Sassy.
I look up from the river to see Ava Peters talking to her. I smile. Looks like Carrots and I will have some mutual friends. I bet Ava's inviting Carrots to her party Saturday. Carrots looks stunned. She turns to look at me and flashes a grateful smile. I'm filled with giddiness after that. It's the smile that I've been waiting to receive the moment I laid eyes on her. I nod at her like I would if I had my hat on.
After jumping from the Jumping Tree about fifty more times, I take her to a birthday dinner at Bubba's. It's not a date, it's not a date. I chant to myself. I steal a look at Carrots to see that she's shuffling her feet looking antsy. I bet she's chanting the same thing.
We sit and order Jackson Hole styled barbecue chicken, barbecued beans, and potato salad. When the food arrives, I'm surprised that Carrots doesn't pick at the food and like other girls would when they're on a dinner date. She wolfs it down as if it's the best thing she's ever tasted. I fight the urge to grab my heart. Oh Jesus, I've fallen in love with her all over again. She glances at me and blushes a little, probably thinking that I'll tease her for eating so unlady-like. Instead I say, "Get the vanilla custard pie. They bring it with a slice of lemon and when you eat a piece and then bite the lemon it tastes exactly like the lemon meringue."
"Why not just get the lemon meringue?" she asks. Because they don't make homemade lemon meringue. But I don't want Bubba's to go out of business or anything.
"Trust me," I tell her.
"Okay," she says. She smiles and waves for the waiter to order the vanilla custard pie.
"Wow, I am so full," she says when we're done with dinner and dessert (which was incredible). "You're going to have to roll me home." I smile, but I don't know what to say. We sit in a little awkward silence for a minute. I wish this day would never end. I had so much fun with her. I've never felt this way about any other girl I've crushed on in the past. She's incredible and I don't want to take her home. I don't want to leave her just yet. Being near her, it feels like I'm flying. I'm a clutter of emotions and they lift me from the ground into somewhere special.
"Thank you for today," she says. She doesn't meet my eyes and I'm quite stunned that she'd thank me. She didn't have to but here she is, saying those words.
"A good birthday?" I ask. I really wanted to know if it today was as great for as it was for me.
"Yes," she replies. "Thank you, also, for not blabbing to the restaurant so they would come over here and sing to me." I grin. She hates that too? We have something in common!
"Wendy said you would hate that," I tell. I mean, I think she said something like that. I look at Carrots and see that she has a far-away look on her face. What I would give to go to that far-away place with you.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" I ask. I want to spend more time with her. I'm not really sure what it is, but beneath my bundle of emotions that attack me every time I'm around her, there's a sort of calmness that's there, an understanding. I feel like I belong there with her. It's right to be with her. I wonder if she feels this too.
"Huh?"
"I have tomorrow off," I tell her. "and if you want I could take you to Yellowstone, show you around."
"I've never been to Yellowstone," she says.
"I know." Wendy did tell me this. Carrots thinks about this for a while. Say yes, say yes, say yes.
"I'd love to see Old Faithful," she admits.
"Okay," I say almost too cheerfully. "We'll start there." I ASKED HER OUT! WAY TO GO, TUCK! I'm probably grinning stupidly, but I don't really care right now. This summer might turn out to be the best summer yet! I glance at her as we walk toward Blubell. For both of us.