The Twenty Year Triangle

Prelude

Early June 1998

Sweet Haven, Tennessee

"Darn, it! Don't leave yet Olly!" I cry out as I whiz past the cherry blossoms that line the dirt road that connects my family's farm to our small town. I'm pedaling as fast as my skinny legs can go, my rusty old bike working as hard as me.

I am always running late. It's not my fault this time, though. Mama insisted I wait for the apple cobbler. She acted like sending Olly off to his dad's without it would kill him or something. I never heard of death from a road trip minus cobbler, but Oliver Stone is my very best friend; not gonna risk it. Besides, the cobbler is a tradition, I can't miss him before he leaves. I just hope Olly's uncle is running late like usual.

The dirt road ends, and I reach the first tarred road. One side is a big, plowed field that'll grow corn in a few short months, and the other is an old empty field with overgrown dried-out grass.

Finally, I make it to Main Street, where Sweet Haven's downtown is located, it's tiny but bustling with life. The street is lined with cars that are parked alongside the curb. The bike rack is full of bikes, which is located right outside, Betty-Jo's, the diner all the high school kids come to hang at. Aside from the restaurant, our town has several little shops lining the road in their red brick buildings, many with apartments above them. My favorite, well, our favorite, Olly and mine, is the bookstore.

I remember the cobbler in my basket and make sure it's secure as I breeze down Main Street; Olly lives in a duplex, a hop, skip and jump away from the town, as his mom likes to say. The street Olly's house on is rundown, as are the duplexes. Both the yellow one he lives in and the two on each side of his. One has a moving van out front; Olly's mom had mentioned someone was moving in.

Across the street sits the public beach, where most other junior high kids spend the summer, not us. Olly and I are the outcasts in town. Me, because I live on a rundown farm, my clothes are all a little worn out, and I hate wearing shoes. Mama says I'm pretty, but I don't see it. I'm skinny with knobby knees, straggly hair that's not quite blonde but not quite brown either, and don't even get me started on my annoying overbite. It's gonna take a lot of money to fix it, but hopefully someday I can. Until then, I try my best not to smile because they call me bucky whenever I do.

"Ignore them, and they'll get bored," my mama says. "They're just jealous of your natural beauty."

What a fat lie. No would be jealous of me, and they never get bored either.

I roll my bike up the driveway just in time to see Oliver walking out of his house, he's got his backpack stuffed to the brim over one shoulder, and he's dragging a duffel bag. Both large bags overwhelm his short and slender frame. His spiky blonde hair sticks up every which way thanks to his cowlicks, and his big glasses keep slipping off his face. Olly is nearly blind, so he has thick glasses that magnify his eyes and make them look bigger. The kids at school are constantly calling him bug eyes and four eyes. If any of them ever looked closer, they'd see his glasses magnify the warmest and friendliest brown eyes ever. But they're all blinder than Olly, as far as I see it.

Olly's mom Kris  is walking him out, and she smiles big when she sees me. She's super pretty with strawberry blonde hair and sparking blue eyes; she always wears tight jeans that make her legs look a million miles long.

"Hi, sweet girl, just in time. Joey called he said he's running late."

Olly goes to stay with his dad Jimmy in Floridia for three weeks every summer. His dad's brother Joey picks him up and meets Olly's dad about halfway. It's a long trip made even longer when his uncle is always late.