Chapter 1: One

Note: I do plan on finishing Forever Summer, but I wanted to see what people thought of this. Please comment! :)

Grant and I. Age 5.

***

I lined up my feet, bouncing the ball twice for good luck. I rocked back on my right foot as I began my usual serving motion. It was as if time slowed as I tossed the ball into the air, and then I swung my racket to hit the ball at just the right angle. The ball sailed through the air, just grazing over the net, and into the service box. The ball had just enough spin on it that my opponent didn't even have time to lift his racket before the ball bouncedand went the other way.

Ace.

"Nice one!" My coach, and my current opponent, congradulated me. I smiled in return, but my eye lids felt so heavy I wasn't sure I could even mumble a response. After practicing for four hours, I was more than ready for a nice, long shower. I was sure I needed it.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I picked up the surrounding tennis balls, noticing my coach was sitting on the bench watching me. Thanks for the help.

"I think we should do a volley drill, and then we'll call it a day." I nodded and lined up at the net. I had learned early on in my private lessons with Coach Baker that he did not tolerate arguing. "Arguing and whining will get you no where but running laps around the tennis courts." Unfortunantely, I learned that lesson the hard way.

It's not that I was stubborn, per se, but any sain person would be tired after four hours of practice. It was like Coach Baker was super-human.

Coach hit the balls as hard as he could, and right at me, as I stood at the net. He knew playing net was my weakness, so he went harder on me. Coach hit another ball, and I had to jump to reach it. I placed the ball to land right on the other side of the net, where I knew Coach wouldn't be able to return it, but instead, I hit the ball too hard and the ball hit outside the singles line. "Come down on the ball, Avery. Pop your wrist down. We've gone over this a hundred times."

I nodded silently, and placed my hands on my knees. Sometimes I wished I could just nail coach with a tennis ball. Just once, and I would be satisfied.

"Let's just call it a day. You're beginning to tire out." Beginning? He must be oblivious to my heavy breathing and sweat-soaked tank top."How about practice tomorrow at 2 PM?"

"Can't. Tomorrow's the first day of school." I was pretty sure I had never been so glad to have school than I was right then.

"Okay. Well, I'll talk to your mom. See what she thinks we should do." Great. You do that.

I said good-bye and started for my charcoal 1999 Jeep Grand Cherokee. I slid into the drivers seatand prayed that mycar would start. My car is pretty unpredictable, and the parentials told me I couldn't get a new car until I graduate next year. So for two more years, I'm stuck with Peppy, as one of my best friends Lina likes to call it.

I cranked up the AC and flipped through my mixed cd until I found About a Girl by The Academy Is.... I put on my aviators to shield the blinding setting sun, and my stomach grumbled. Thankfully, mom was just about to start dinner around this time, and since it was the first day of school tomorrow, it was tradition that Ryan joined my family for supper.

I turned onto my street, looking at the brick house on my left as I always did. Six years ago, I would have been eating supper on the night of the first day of school in that house with the Parkers. My parents were such good friends with Diane and David Parker, and I used to be best friends with their son Grant. Well, moreover, I was in love with him. Granted, I was only 10, but still. I'd known him since we were in diapers, and we had always been best friends. I knew his birthday (July 2), favorite movie (The Goonies), and even his favorite color crayon (electric blue). So, I took a chance. Well, as much of a chance a 10 year old could take. During Mrs. Wilson's class in fourth grade, I wrote him a note telling him everything. How cute he was. How much Iliked him. Everything. When Ryan passed it to him in class, I watched him read it, turn red, and sink down in his chair. Then Ben Averett, the annoyin 10 year old that would have been an annoying teenager if he hadn't moved away, took the note out of Grant's hands, read the note, and laughed. Trisha Tanner saw the note and joined in, and soon half the class was laughing. But then, my ten year old self thought the world was coming to an end. Grant started laughing, too.

That was the end of our friendship. He never tried to talk to me, and I never tried to talk to him. He avoided me like the plague, but Ryan assured me he must be stupid enough to think I still had cooties. Whatever the reason, it was obvious he didn't like me, and I regretted ever telling him how I felt. That day forever tramatized me, but more than that, it made me hate Grant for doing that to me.

Grant and his family moved that summer because of Mr. David's job, and I wasn't sad. My parents, not knowning about the tramatizing event, dragged me over to their house the day they left to say good-bye. They sent me up to his room to help him pack, even though that was the last thing my ten year old self wanted to do.

"You have cooties. Get out of my room." he told me the second I stepped foot into his bedroom. I was so mad, I grabbed his alarm clock out of one of the cardboard boxes and threw it at him as hard as I could. The clock hit him square in the forehead, and he yelled. I ran out his room, down the stairs, and out the front door. My parents tried to stop me, butI ran until I had safely made it back into my own house. I ran straight to my room, locked the door, and cried for the first time about a boy.

Everytime I looked at the house, that day came flooding back to me. The hurt I felt that day made me temporarily forget all the good memories I had in that house, and I remembered the one guy that made me never want to date. I know, I must sound insane. I was only 10 for goodness sakes! It was more than my liking Grant.The one guy that I thought would always be there for me left me alone and humiliated that day six years ago.

I would have kept driving, pushing any thoughts of Grant and the Parkers out of my mind like I usually did, but something caught my eye parked in the driveway. A moving truck. The last residents of the house, the Maxwells, had retired and moved to Florida three months ago. I shrugged to myself, and drove on to my house.

I pulled into my driveway, seeing Ryan'sbike up on the front porch. I hurried inside, suddenly forgetting how exhausted I was. I hadn't seen Ryan in a month because she had been visiting her family in Maine.

Opening the door, I yelled, "I'm home!" I dropped my tennis bag to the floor and ran into the den. Ryan was sitting on the couch, and when she saw me, she jumped up to hug me.

"Avery!" She said, as we hugged each other.

"Ryan! I'm so glad you're home! I've been so bored without you or Lina!"

"I bet that's not true. You've probably been so busy with tennis, as usual." I laughed and rolled my eyes. She was right.

"Hi, honey. How was practice?" Mom always asked me this when I came home, and my answer was always the same.

"Fine."

Mom didn't say much more, and I dragged Ryan upstairs. As soon as I shut the door, I jumped up on my black and white bed spread, sitting indian- style.

"Tell me everything about Maine! Did you meet anyone?" I asked as I changed out of my tennis clothes and into another pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

"Ugh I wish!" She said as she joined me on the bed. She tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ears. "My grandma tried to set me up with this guy named Peter, and lets just say, he was a little different." She closed her eyes and shook her head.

We talked and laughed as we discussed our summers, but I didn't have anything interesting for my summer. Tennis. Tennis. Tennis.

"So, did you hear?" She asked, suddenly changing subjects.

"Hear what?" I could see the hesitation in her eyes, and I wasn't liking where this was going. Before she could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. Mom cracked the door and popped her head in.

"Supper's ready, girls!" Ryan and I told her we'd be down in a minute, and she shut the door back.

"What were you going to say?"

"I'll just tell you later. We don't want to keep your mom waiting!" She was already opening the door and heading down the stairs as she spoke, so I had no choice but to follow.

***

Supper consisted of spaghetti and bread, a personal favorite of mine, and I was starving from practice. Mom and Dad asked Ryan about her summer, and I listened to her condensed version. Somewhere in the conversation, I forgot about what Ryan had been about to tell me. That is, until Mom and Dad told me.

When the conversation died, Mom set her fork on her plate and looked at Dad, and he did the same. I twirled some spaghetti onto my fork and was mid-chew when Mom looked at me, a smile on her face.

"Avery, I have some good news. Guess who called me the other day?"

I shrugged, as I took in another bite of spaghetti. "Diane Parker," Dad joined in the conversation. This fact wasn't anything unusual. Mom frequently talked to Diane by email or phone, so I wasn't sure where this conversation was going.

"Well, we talked, and she told me that David lost his job," she looked at me, her smile widening, "so they're moving back into town! Grant will be at school tomorrow!" Wide-eyed, I dropped the glass of water, spilling it all over the table. Then I remembered the moving van, and it all made sense. They were moving back into their old house.Thatwas what Ryan was going to tell me.

This was not good.