His Return, My Ruin

"I can't do it because I'm younger," I say angrily as I watch another pebble sink to the bottom of the lake with a gurgle, leaving circles behind. How does Jaden do it? The stone he throws skips across the surface at least five times.

"Watch," my friend says. He bends down to pick up the next stone, places it in my palm, and stands behind me. "Bring your arm back like this, bend your knees, Try to throw it parallel to the water."

He guides my hand as he launches the stone himself. For the first time in an hour of training, it happens: the stone hits the water three times before sinking into the lake.

"Yay! I'm nine, and you're twelve.”

I squint my eyes and assess my friend's figure. "You're really skinny, though. Why is that? Do you eat very little?"

Jaden is usually not bothered by the tactless questions I ask him. He just shrugs his shoulders.

"I eat normally. Maybe my dad was thin."

Jaden is the son of our housekeeper, Rosa, whom my mother hired a little over six months ago. She has long, dark hair and doesn't talk much. She always smiles at me and my parents, but she yells at Jaden. I would like to stop her from hurting him, but I'm still too young.

"Shall we go swimming?" Jaden nods toward the lake and starts to pull off his T-shirt. He has thin arms, and his collarbone sticks out. Despite that, I think he's handsome. I am especially fascinated by his dark green eyes and full, bright pink lips. Jaden's lips are full and bright pink. I often think that I would like to have lips like that.

“Where did you get that mole?” I reach out and touch the light brown spot on his shoulder blade that looks like a small butterfly. I saw a similar one last year when my parents and I were on vacation in Italy, only that one had white spots on its wings.

"I don't know. When I have money, I'll get a tattoo to cover it up."

"No!" I stomp my foot in indignation at the idea. For some reason, I feel like he doesn't have the right to deface his body without asking me first. "It's very beautiful!"

Jaden steps over his discarded jeans and grimaces, looking uncomfortable or ashamed.

"It's just...it's so...girly."

"That's not true," I say, bending down to pick up his clothes and fold them neatly. My mom taught me to be neat and tidy when I was five. "It's pretty. You're pretty, too, even though your hair is curly like a girl's.”

Jaden starts smiling again, showing his even, white teeth. Lucky him. Mom took me to the dentist last week, and he said I needed braces. I was upset because I saw the scary metal braces in Jody Logan's mouth. At school, her classmates tease her and call her "Robot." Isaac Fury has even forbidden his classmates from talking to her. Fortunately, Dad assured me that my braces would be expensive and beautiful and that everyone would envy me.

"So, are you going swimming?" Jaden looks at me questioningly, his arms crossed over his bare chest. "Why aren't you getting undressed?"

I cannot understand what has happened to me over the past two weeks. Before, I could undress in front of Jaden down to my underwear to go swimming, but now I feel extremely embarrassed.

"No, you go ahead. I'll take a look. I don't have a swimsuit."

Jaden frowns, puzzled, but doesn't comment on my sudden modesty. Instead, he suggests,

"You can swim in your shirt."

"No, I can't. My mom recently bought it for me. It's from the latest collection.” I frown, trying to recall my mom's exact words, but the complicated brand name doesn't come to mind. "Anyway, the shirt is expensive, and I can't ruin it."

I have no idea why I'm telling Jaden this. He doesn't care what I'm wearing or how much my parents paid for my clothes. Maybe I want to impress him. He's more handsome, older, smarter, and calmer than me, and I want to have the upper hand over him in at least one thing. Especially since my mom and her friends like to tell each other how much their things cost. There must be some point to it.

"Well, then wait on the shore. I won't be swimming for long," he says. After receiving my nod of approval, Jaden dives into the water.

He doesn't come up for so long that I start to panic. What if he hit his head on the bottom? Choked? Did his heart stop? If he dies, I'll never see him jump off the homemade bungee cord. We won't be able to throw pebbles into the water, and my dream of going to school with him won't come true. It's true that Dad said Rosa would never have enough money to send Jaden to Webb's School.

When Jaden finally surfaces and waves at me, the wave of panic subsides and is replaced by a rush of anger. Idiot! You made me so nervous!

"The water is super warm, Tasha! You shouldn't have refused to swim!"

"You're an idiot, Jaden! You've been underwater for over a minute! If you don't get out right now, I'll throw your jeans in the lake!"

Of course, I'm not going to follow through on my threat. Then Rose would scold him again for his wet clothes, and I don't want that. However, when Jaden is around, I like to be selfish and capricious, probably because he almost always indulges me. Now, instead of continuing to swim, he turns around and paddles toward the shore.

"Your hair is completely straight when it's wet," I remark as he gets out of the water. "Maybe you should wet it more often."

"There's nothing you can do about it. It's natural," Jaden says. He brushes a dark strand of hair from his face, picks up his T-shirt from the ground, and starts to pull it on. "Why did you yell? I told you I wouldn't swim for long."

"Because we have to go back," I say, cleverly hiding my recent fear for him. "Your mom will scold you again."

Jaden, as usual, doesn't argue. He puts on his jeans, picks up my backpack from the ground, and slings it over his shoulder.

"Do you even have any friends besides me?" I ask him on the way home, passing through a small grove densely planted with trees. I like walking there because of the shade that saves me from the summer heat, and because there are no people. You can walk back and forth for hours and not meet a single person.

"I don't need many friends. One is enough if he's a real friend.

After all, Jaden is nothing like my school friends or the people who come to our house. They all try to please each other because that's the norm. I think that's the right thing to do.

But I think the more friends you have, the better. How can you not like it when everyone loves you?

How do you know they love you and aren't just pretending?

As I ponder this difficult question, voices can be heard coming from behind the trees. Jaden visibly tensed up, took my hand, and quickened his pace. His reaction causes me to panic, and my anxiety intensifies as the sound of conversation grows closer. However, it subsides abruptly when I see its source: Isaac Fury and his friend, Cole Manson. Fortunately, I am well acquainted with the two teenagers who have appeared: Isaac Fury and his friend, Cole Manson. Their parents are friends with my parents, and they often visit our house. I pull my hand out of Jaden's hot palm. I'm mentally angry at him for scaring me again.

"Hi, Tasha," Isaac says with a broad smile. He walks up to me, kisses me on the cheek, and makes me blush instantly. Isaac is twelve and the most popular student at Webbs. Once, Principal Butler called in the parents of Corina Summers and her friend Yolanda because they almost fought over him during recess. It's no surprise; Isaac looks like a popular singer. He has blue eyes and blond hair that is always styled fashionably. Even though he and Jaden are the same age, Isaac is much broader-shouldered and looks older.

“Who's this with you, Tasha?” Isaac's voice takes on an insinuating tone as he turns his attention to my companion. "What kind of skinny girlfriend have you found yourself?"

I watch in confusion as he stands in front of Jaden and sizes him up with a mocking look. My friend's fingers clench the straps of my backpack until they turn white, and his face turns white too, but he remains silent and doesn't react to the insult.

"They do sex change operations now. Have you heard what they call you there? I really think you need to get yourself some boobs. You're just like a girl. You sleep with curlers in your hair, and you have a mouth like Angelina Jolie."

Cole starts laughing loudly at his friend's monologue, and I have no idea what to do. I like Jaden, and I like Isaac. In different ways, of course. Jaden is kind to me, and I feel comfortable around him.

. Everyone wants to be friends with Isaac, and I'm no exception.

"He doesn't have money for boobs, bro," Cole says, bursting out laughing. "Maybe he could just buy a bra and stuff it with cotton."

"Tasha, why are you hanging out with him?" Isaac looks away from pale Jaden and looks at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "I doubt anyone at school would like it if I told them you were hanging out with a hermaphrodite."

I don't know what "hermaphrodite" means, but the idea of becoming an outcast like Robot Jody scares me. I want to be friends with my peers and be liked by them. My dad likes to emphasize that relationships are important in life and that you need to know how to maintain them.

Cole continues to cackle, making me want to yell at him to be quiet. I like him much less than Isaac, and he's really annoying right now. I swallow and look over at Jaden. He's as tense as a string. His neck is strained, and his chest rises quickly and shallowly. Why can't he stop this public humiliation? Why is he putting me in this awkward situation? Why do I have to choose because of him?

"Girl..." Cole howls.

My thoughts race feverishly. It's as if I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure of which way to step. Right or left? On one side is my best friend and on the other are all the things that seem important to me: image, popularity, and peer recognition. I will often regret that on that fine day, I chose the wrong side. So much could have been different if I had acted differently, if I had been braver and had different ideas about a happy future. My only excuse is that I'm only nine.

"He really does look like a girl," I say, a fake smile lighting up my face. "He even has a mole on his shoulder blade shaped like a butterfly."

Isaac's mouth stretches into a satisfied grin. Cole's laughter is deafening, and its duration begins to resemble hysteria. My legs can barely hold me up; my hands are shaking. All I can think about is not looking at Jaden. But I can't help myself and look anyway. He is still standing and staring ahead. Only now, his face is covered with crimson spots. I instantly want to take back what I said, grab his hand, and beg for forgiveness for betraying his secret. But I can't bring myself to do it. My backpack falls to the ground with a thud. At that very moment, something unexpected happens. Jaden suddenly leans forward. There's a nasty crunch and a desperate howl from Isaac, who clamps both hands over his bloody nose. Cole finally stops laughing and stares at his friend in shock.

"I'll kill you," Isaac mutters, leaning over as a dark red liquid oozes through his fingers. "I'll kill you, you bastard..."

"Run!" I try to shout to Jaden, who stands frozen, staring at the writhing figure of his attacker. But only a faint whistle comes out of my lungs. "Please, run," I hiss a little louder.

Without looking at me, Jaden deftly dodges Cole. Having come to his senses, Cole strides toward Jaden with the clear intention of avenging his friend. Jaden takes off running.

"I'll make your life hell," Isaac continues threatening as he watches Jaden's rapidly receding back. "I'll catch you and shave your head."

His threats were not destined to come true. That same day, my mother found three of my collectible dolls, which she had bought at auction, near the pool when she returned from the beauty salon. Their porcelain heads were smashed to pieces, and their bodies were floating in the water. Jaden was found guilty of this egregious act of vandalism, and he confirmed it himself. His mother was fired without pay, and that same evening, they moved out of our house. Despite my parents' assurances that they would buy me new dolls, I cried for a week.

If I could turn back time, I would. But alas, the time machine has yet to be invented, so I will have to live out the rest of my life according to the mistakes I made in the past.