the hope of it all

one

If you ask me about Bellamy Blake, I'd tell you he was a close friend of mine and most likely mention that he's my best friend's brother, but deep beneath the facade of a close friend, there was a much more complex answer. If you had asked me twelve years ago, I'd give the same answer, but I'd blush and never tell you he was the love of my life. But what does a thirteen-year-old know about having a love of her life?

My summers were spent on Chincoteague Island with my Aunt Mary. It started as an excuse for my parents to have some time to focus on their careers that first year, and it quickly became an annual tradition. Aunt Mary's house became my summer refuge, and the island, my escape. I found friends so quickly—Monty, Harper, Octavia, Bellamy, Murphy, Miller, Jasper. We did everything together. For three whole months, that little island was my entire world. It was my favorite place on earth, and I was with my favorite people.

I don't know when Bellamy became my crush, but it felt like it happened gradually and all at once. One summer, he was just Octavia's older brother, the guy who taught us how to skim rocks and built the best sandcastles on the beach. The next, he was everything my thirteen-year-old heart longed for. He was one of my best friends. It felt like every time he looked at me, my heart raced, and my cheeks burned. But I never told a soul. Sometimes, it felt like my heart would just explode, and for two whole summers, I lived with the thrill and the terror of having a crush that I knew, deep down, could never be more than a secret.

I tried my best to hide it. I watched from the sidelines as other girls—older girls—caught his attention. I saw the way they'd hang around our group when we went to the boardwalk, and I told myself it didn't matter. After all, I was just his little sister's friend. To him, I was someone he needed to look out for, nothing more. But every time he threw an arm around my shoulder or ruffled my hair, I'd feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he saw me as something else. Something more.

It wasn't until one evening, when John Murphy decided to play his usual role as the world's biggest pain in my ass, that everything changed and ruined my life. To say, at the time, that he ruined my life was a bit dramatic, but find a thirteen-year-old girl who isn't.

I remember that night clearly though. We were all at Aunt Mary's house, and she'd gone to Chesapeake for a memorial service. She wouldn't be back until late, so she'd left us money for pizza. Bellamy asked me to go with him to pick it up. Riding on the back of his moped, with my arms wrapped tightly around his waist, was the highlight of my entire summer. I rested my chin on his shoulder, feeling his warmth against me, and every time he grazed his hand against mine, I felt a thrill run through me. I was grateful it was dark so he couldn't see the blush on my cheeks, and I wondered if he could feel my pulse racing.

We somehow managed to carry three boxes of pizza back on the moped, and when we returned to the house, the smell of melted cheese filled the kitchen. The place was alive with the buzz of our friends' voices, everyone talking over one another. Jasper and Monty were arguing about which movie to watch, Harper was telling Octavia some story, and Murphy—well, Murphy was being Murphy.

"So, Bellamy, you figure out who you're taking to homecoming this year?" Jasper asked, shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth before adding, "There's like ten girls at school who'll probably throw themselves at you."

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to homecoming."

"Yeah, right. You've got every girl in the junior class lining up to be your date," Monty added. "They're probably fighting over you already."

I forced myself to smile as the conversation unfolded, but it felt like a punch to my gut. I was just one of the many girls who had a crush on him—one of the only ones who didn't stand a chance.