I put my hands on my hips and force a scowl. “You mean what if my heart stops ticking? It’s not like I’m running a marathon.”
“But aren’t you supposed to just take it easy?”
“Easy, yes, but not do nothing. I’m not on bed rest. And if you’re so worried about me, then come along. With or without you, though, I’m not staying inside for the next three months watching reruns of Tom and Jerry, especially not through all that static.”
Bree’s shoulders slump forward. I’m positive she doesn’t want to go, but she feels compelled. Turning to Cade, she asks, “What about you, Twerp? If I go, you have to come too.”
“Don’t call me ‘Twerp,’ Zit Face.”
Kaboom! Just like that, Bree explodes, and I don’t mean her zit pops. “I have one stupid pimple on my forehead! That doesn’t make me zit-faced!”
“Actually, the one on your forehead is almost gone,” I note cautiously. “But did you look in the mirror this morning? There’s a huge whitehead on your cheek.”
She runs over to the mirror near the front door and shrieks.
“It’s probably your hormones,” I inform her innocuously.
“Eww!” she shrieks again, looking repulsed. “Don’t say that. I hate that word.”
“Hormones, hormones, hormones, hormones!” Cade shouts. I don’t think he even fully understands what hormones are, but it’s fun watching her reaction when he says it. “Bree’s got zits! And hormones!”
Her face goes from whitehead white to pimple pink in about half a second. “Shut up! I hate both of you!”
“Chill. It’s no big deal. Everyone gets zits now and then.”
“It’s a huge deal. You think I want to go outside today with this thing ready to ooze all over my cheek? What if some boy sees me like this? Sick.”
“So you’re not coming now?”
Bree takes three steps toward the foot of the blue stairs. “No. I’m definitely staying.”
“Fine. Cade, what about you? You want to go for a walk with me, or stay here waiting for Little Miss Zit to pop?”
He turns to the TV for a moment, then to Bree, and then back to me. “What kind of stores?”
“Beach stuff. And I know there’s a candy store not too far away.”
That does it. “Count me in.”
“Bree?” I ask once more. “Final chance. You sure you don’t want to come along?”
She’s already halfway up the stairs. “Just go,” she calls without looking back.
As I head out of the house, Cade holds his hand up like a traffic cop. “Wait. Are you sure you have your little pager thing?”
So cute of him to remember! Maybe little brothers aren’t all bad.
I pat the front pocket of my shorts. “Always. Page has become my new best friend, sad as that is.”
It feels awesome being outside; just breathing in the fresh air and seeing all the green on the coastal hills. In a way, it kind of feels like last night, out on the beach when the roar of the ocean made me feel alive. As we walk, it occurs to me that perhaps I’ve sort of shut myself inside at home since all of this heart stuff started.
Maybe that’s why the few friends I used to have distanced themselves? Because I distanced myself first…
Who knows.
What I do know is that feeling the coastal breeze in my face feels really good, and that right now, for this moment, I am happy.
Apparently Cade can see the difference in me too. “What’s up with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You’re just all smiling and stuff.”
“I’m happy. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, I guess. But do you have to walk different because of it? You’re, like…skipping or something. It’s weird.”
Nope, I was right. Little brothers are annoying.
I stop walking and point back to our house. “Just go back right now, Cade, if you’re going to nitpick. I happen to like being out here—I feel like I haven’t been anywhere in forever, so I can walk however I want.”
“Geez,” he fires back. “Sorry for being honest.”
We continue walking, but the talking stops for a while. The lack of conversation allows me to focus on the surroundings. The street is lined with homes, most of them larger and newer than ours, and probably all rental properties. That’s just the way Cannon Beach is—not a ton of year-round residents like my great-grandma, but plenty of homes for vacationers to enjoy the majesty of the Oregon coast. Behind a few of the homes, kites are starting to pop up here and there in the morning breeze.