Tadpoles in My Jar

The Fourth of July

James

As I step onto the grounds of the Gallia County Fair, memories of last summer come rushing back like a film reel. The scent of cotton candy and lemonade linger on my tongue and the sounds of laughter echo in my mind like a distant melody.

Betty's laughter, to be precise.

I remember the warmth of the sun on our skin as we strolled through the fairgrounds, my pinky interlocked with hers. 

I glance around the fairgrounds, my eyes lingering on the spot where we shared a kiss under the lights of the Ferris wheel. But as I walk past the Ferris wheel, my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Cassie's voice. 

"Happy 4th of July!" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around me.

Being with Cassie feels easy, effortless, like we were always meant to be together. And yet, as we wander through the fair together, part of me can't help but feel the weight of the past pressing down on me. 

July 4th was always special for Betty and me. We'd start the day at the county fair and then head back to Betty's house for the block party her family hosted each year. It was one of the few days my dad took off his sheriff's badge to join in on the fun. He'd head to Al's Market for the biggest watermelon he could find. Betty's dad would fire up the grill while her mom transformed their home into a patriotic spectacle. Julie was in charge of filling a cooler with water balloons for the Capture the Flag showdown with the other neighborhood kids.

Betty and I always won.

As evening crept in, we'd sneak out of her bedroom window to watch the fireworks from the roof. We'd stuff our mouths with Pop Rocks, giggling as they crackled on our tongues while the sky lit up with a myriad of colors. Summer just isn't the same without her.

Cassie tugs on my arm, leading me toward the funhouse. The colorful lights flicker above the entrance. We step inside, and I'm immediately met with a kaleidoscope of distorted mirrors and playful illusions. Laughter fills the air as we navigate the twisting hallways, our reflections warping into silly shapes that make us giggle. 

Cassie spins in front of a funhouse mirror, her reflection stretched tall and narrow. "Look at me! I'm a model!" she jokes, striking a pose.

As we move deeper into the maze, I pause in front of a mirror that seems to ripple with shadows. I glance at Cassie, who's caught up in her own reflection, before I turn back to the glass. But what I see isn't Cassie's face looking back at me. Instead, it's Betty's—her strawberry blonde hair framing her face as if she were standing right beside me.

"James? You coming?" Cassie calls, her voice echoing from somewhere behind me. I tear my gaze away from the mirror, forcing a smile as I turn back to her, but the moment lingers, twisting something deep inside me.

I nod, squeezing her hand gently as we navigate the twists and turns of the funhouse. But as we exit into the night, I know that while I'm trying to create new memories with Cassie, a piece of me will always belong to Betty. And that realization stings more than I'd like to admit.

We settle down on a patch of grass to watch the fireworks, and I can't shake the feeling that something is missing. Or rather, someone.

"James," Cassie says, tearing her gaze away from the fireworks. "Is everything okay?"

 I blink, shaking my head slightly. "Sorry. Just... thinking too much."

She raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "About what?" 

"Do you ever — never mind," I say, fixing my gaze on the fireworks overhead. 

"Do you ever....what?" Cassie echos, her hand grabbing my arm gently, as if trying to pull my thoughts back to the surface.

I sigh, trying to figure out how to describe my inner turmoil. "Do you ever feel homesick for a memory?" 

Cassie's expression softens. "Yeah, I think everyone feels that way at some point."

I look down at our intertwined fingers. "It's just — sometimes I catch myself wishing I could go back to those moments."

Cassie nods, her thumb gently brushing over my knuckles. "It's normal to feel that pull. But it's also important to recognize that those moments are in the past for a reason."

"I know," I say. "I just wish it didn't hurt so much. It feels like I'm stuck between the past and present."

"James, is this about something or....someone specific?" she asks.

Her question catches me off guard. I look at her, truly seeing her for the first time tonight. "Cassie, I —"

"It's okay, James," she interrupts. "I shouldn't have asked that. How about we focus on tonight?"

Cassie smiles, her eyes searching mine, and I can see she senses the conflict within me. But she doesn't press, just leans in closer, and together we watch the last of the fireworks fade into the night. 

I feel a pang of guilt for not being fully present with Cassie. For not being able to give her all of me, because a part of me is still with Betty. As the fireworks burst overhead, I squeeze Cassie's hand, trying to ground myself in this moment with her.