My Butterfly

Chapter Three Caught

“I don’t know, Jules,” I said, tossing a tennis ball into the air and catching it. “We might be searching for this volleyball for the rest of our days.”

She turned her face toward mine. Her blond hair was in a ponytail and was spread every which way over a straw bale left over from archery class. I had constructed us a pretty nice lounging bench using the bales, and now we were each lying against a home-made straw pillow. She was squinting. The sun was in her eyes, and her big eyelashes looked as if they were trying to shoo away its rays.

“I’m sure it’s somewhere safe,” she said and then turned her head again so that it was out of the direct path of the sun’s rays.

I lifted my head off the straw bale.

“You don’t seem that worried about it anymore,” I said.

“Hmm?” she asked, as she turned her face back toward mine and used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“It’s your favorite ball, right?” I asked. “You still want to find it, right?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s not that big of a deal,” she said.

I hesitated before I continued.

“Well, I mean, it’s got to be around here somewhere,” I said, fearing my time with her might be coming to an end. “Maybe it’ll just take a couple more days.”

“Uh,” she said, shrugging off my comment and turning her head again. “We don’t have to look for it anymore. It’s okay.”

“No,” I almost shouted, sitting up.

I paused then and took a second to regain my composure and to clear my throat.

“Actually, you know where we haven’t checked?” I asked.

“Hmm?” she replied, not bothering to turn her head this time.

“The shop,” I said. “We haven’t checked the shop.”

I watched her shrug her shoulders again.

“I don’t think it’s in the shop,” she said.

She was facing away from me, and her eyes were closed, so I took the opportunity to stare at her without her knowing it. And why was she acting so strange all of sudden? A few days ago, all she wanted was that dumb ball. Now, it seemed as if she could care less about it. She was a strange creature, but she sure was pretty. She was about an hour removed from volleyball practice — little, spandex shorts, cut-off tee shirt and all. Pretty.

“You know where we haven’t looked?” she asked, opening her eyes and turning her face toward mine again.

I sat back against the straw bail, startled, hoping she hadn’t noticed me staring at her.

“Where?” I asked.

“The rafters…in the gym,” she said.

My heart stumbled and then came to a complete halt for a second. Then, I watched the corners of her lips slowly start to turn up, and I couldn’t help but smile too.

“The rafters?” I managed to get out, through my grin.

“Mm hmm,” she said, nodding her head.

We were both silent for a moment, each searching the other’s eyes.

“Yeah, we could look there,” I eventually said.

Just then, she shoved my shoulder. She shoved it hard, but it didn’t do much to move me, in the end.

“Will Stephens,” she said, raising her voice and now standing over me.

She was pouting, but she was smiling too — sort of.

“I know you put it there,” she said.

My jaw dropped open. Caught red-handed.

“I…,” I stuttered. “How, how do you know?”

She rested her hands on her hips.

“Rachel told me,” she said. “She saw you do it.”

Damn it, Rachel.

The corners of my mouth started to turn up again. I knew they weren’t supposed to, but I couldn’t help it. She looked so darn cute. And besides, it had been worth it. That ball had given me her undivided attention for a week. As it turned out, I had grown to love that dumb ball after all.

“Jules, I promise it wasn’t on purpose.”

I sighed and then lowered my head. That was a lie. I couldn’t lie to her.

“Okay,” I said. “It was on purpose, but I had to.”

My gaze traveled back up to her face again, while she dropped her shoulders and dug her dagger eyes deeper into my forehead.

“You knew I was looking for it,” she said. “I just don’t get why…”

“Wait,” I interrupted her, as a smile slowly started creeping its way back to my face again. “When did Rachel tell you?”

Rachel couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

“The day I lost it,” she said. “I ran into her later. You were also supposed to tell me that she was looking for me.”

“Wait,” I said again. “You knew where it was and that I had put it there this whole time, but you still pretended to look for it with me.”

Had she liked hanging out with me too?

She narrowed her eyes at me, and I knew she had read my mind. A new, obnoxious smile beamed across my face now over the obnoxious one that was already there.

Then, I watched as she grabbed her duffle bag from the ground and slung it over her shoulder.

“Will, the point here is that you threw my ball into the rafters,” she said. “Nothing ever comes down from there.”

I really tried hard, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

“You’re such a child,” she said, letting out a deep sigh and then turning and walking away.

I sat there frozen — and speechless.

“You owe me a ball, Will Stephens,” she called out over her shoulder once she had gotten several yards away.

I watched her strut into the sun as I leaned my back against the straw bale in our makeshift bench again. There was a permanent smile now tattooed to my face, and on that smile in big, bold letters, I was pretty sure it read: Today was the best day of my life. Today, I learned that Julia Lang actually liked hanging out with me.