Chapter 10 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

  I could hardly contain my excitement as Saturday neared.  My feet were barely touching the ground as the countdown to 7:30 on Saturday night began. 

From Wednesday to Saturday afternoon, I was a nervous wreck. I practiced what I was going to say, went through four outfits before finding one that looked right for the occasion, and generally prepared for anything that could possibly happen or go wrong.

           That evening, I arrived at Carl’s maybe 10 minutes early and waited for Sierra to get there before getting a seat.  Right on cue, she wheeled in, and I asked if she wanted a table or booth and she said booth. We picked a booth toward the back where it was a little quieter, away from the main crowd.  Once we settled in,  Sierra angled her wheelchair at the booth, and effortlessly used her arms to transfer to the seat.

“Wow, that’s awesome,” I said, genuinely impressed. “Your coordination is out of this world. I don’t think I could have done it without falling.”

“Thanks, that was one of the first things I was taught in rehab. My arms were worked out so much, I could probably beat anyone in arm wrestling,” she laughed.

The sudden urge to kiss her right then and there flashed through my mind. Patience took over, and that would have to wait for another moment.

Our pizza came, a large with everything, and a pitcher of Coke. We settled in and took our time eating.

“To success on our project,” Sierra said, clinking her glass against mine.

“To success,” I toasted back. “Hopefully to the beginning of many more.”

“What do you have planned for the weekend?”  I asked.

“My sister Jackie  is coming in from Miami for a couple of days. She works as a paralegal in a law office there. She hasn’t been able to get time off from work to visit since we moved here, so it’ll be nice to see her,” she answered. “How about you?”

“Well, not much. I have a little bit of homework to do, but I just want to relax and recharge.That project just about wore me out, but we did it.”

“Another toast-to teamwork,” She clinked my glass again.

After saying hi to Sierra’s mom when she came to pick her up, I made my own way home, totally and completely fallen for Sierra.   It was tough thinking about anything else that weekend.

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Chapter 9 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

 

The next afternoon, I biked over to Sierra’s to start work on our project.  Any reason to see her was a good reason. My heart was racing, and not just because of pedaling my bike. 

With Sierra’s mom providing us with our usual tray of snacks and cans of Coke, we got down to working on our project, a report on The Hound of The Baskervilles. Sierra’s drawings of how she thought Sherlock Holmes, Watson, and the rest of the characters looked just blew my mind.

“Amazing work, Sierra,” I commended her. “These depictions look like they came right from the time the book was written.”

“Thanks,”  Sierra grinned. “With your analysis of  the book, we’ve got an A here.”

“Let’s hope so,” I replied. I set my notebook down, the room suddenly feeling a little quieter, except for the racing of my heart.

And then I did it again.

I reached across and took her hand, this time letting it last longer.

And once again, Sierra didn’t protest, just smiled, her blue eyes gleaming.

That evening, after I got home and wound down, I called Tom and told him about my afternoon with Sierra.

“It’s getting closer, Tommy, I can feel it. That look she gave me tells me that she’s thinking the same thing I am, so the only question is do I spill my heart out, tell her how I feel and ask her to be my girlfriend before or after the dance?  Things might go south if I ask before and she says no. Two weeks won’t kill me, so maybe I should just play it cool until then.”

“You definitely want to be sure that you’re both on the same wavelength,” Tom agreed. “I’ve got your back, if you need anyone to advocate to her on how much of a great guy you are.”

I kept those words in mind over the next couple of days. Before I knew it, Thursday arrived, and Sierra and I were standing in front of our English class presenting our project. As expected, we got an A. 

“A small celebration is in order.” I told Sierra as we congratulated each other on the success of our hard work.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

“How about pizza at Carl’s again, just us this time. How about Saturday?”

“So our pre-date date?” she laughed. “Deal. I’m going shopping with Mom that afternoon, but the evening should be free. How does 7:30 sound?”

“I’ll be there, just bring your appetite.”

Chapter 8 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

  My big chance came a week later.  I had totally forgotten that the Homecoming Dance was coming up, and I decided to ask Sierra to be my date.  I had two weeks to come up with a way to ask her, and my nerves went into panic mode. Every evening, I’d stand in front of my mirror, practicing how I’d try to sell my offer. Of course, I also went to Tom for advice.

“See, I told you, man, you got it bad for her. The best thing to do is just go and ask her. She can either say yes, and you have the time of your life, or she says no and you get on with life.”

          “You’re right, Tommy,” I admitted. “She might not want to go, seeing that she’s not able to dance. But on the other hand, she’s been up to hanging with me and the gang, so you never know. Like you said, the worst that can happen is she says no, and I can live with that,  but if I’m going down, I’m going down swinging.Ithink we’ve made an awesome connection, and if this works out, it could be more.”

“That’s the spirit, dude,” Tom said while patting my shoulder. “Speak from the heart, you can’t go wrong with that.”

And that is what I decided to do. After  two days of practice, Sierra and I had our usual lunch meetup. 

We discussed how things on the websites were going, and decided to partner on an upcoming project for English class.  We would meet up at her place tomorrow evening to begin work on it.

With sweat starting to pour, I took a deep breath while she was looking at a book and decided to go for broke. 

“Sierra, can I ask you something?” I said, steadying my nerves.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Ummm…the homecoming  dance is in a couple of weeks, and I’m asking if you’d be interested in going as my date.” 

I felt my nerves do a slow meltdown. This was the first moment of truth.

“Sure, I’d love to go,” She smiled. “Though obviously dancing would be out of the question.”  Sierra patted the armrest of her wheelchair.

“That’s OK, I’m not much of a dancer anyway,” I laughed. “It’ll just be a  fun time where we can hang out.”

“Sounds like a plan, it’s a date,” Sierra answered.

A date. I smiled inwardly.  Dude, you did it.

Chapter 7 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

 Monday came, and it was back to school. Sierra rolled into school between fifth  and  sixth periods. “How’d the doctor’s appointment go?” I asked, concerned.

“New doctor wanted to see if my spine was still stable, so I had to go get x-rays. Things are good, but man I got to look at them, and man, Jimmy, I didn’t fully realize how bad the accident left me.” She cringed slightly at the memory. “They had to put so much hardware in my back, if I had to get on a plane, every metal detector in the airport would go crazy.”

She laughed, but I could see that Sierra was shook up about seeing just what her injuries entailed. The lenses of her glasses began to fog up with the beginnings of tears. Her trying to keep strong and calm was starting to take a toll on her.

I wanted to tell her it was okay to let it all out, to just pull her into a hug, but the wave of students rushing to sixth  period kept pushing us forward. 

She was one tough girl. No wonder I was so attracted to her.

        "Anyway, on to better things," Sierra said, blinking back the tears. "The site is blowing up. I'm already getting commission offers for my art, and the forum is full of people sharing their own stories. I mean it, Jimmy—I never could have done this without your coding magic." 

“Anytime. I’m just glad the site is blowing up—and seriously, glad the appointment went well, even if those X-rays were a lot to take in.” 

“Seeing the damage is just a part of coming to terms with what I have to live with,” she said while maneuvering her wheelchair through the hall to our next classroom. “It could have been worse, the accident could have killed me.” 

My God, where do you get all this strength? I thought. 

“You’re incredible, Sierra. Seriously. Life threw up a massive roadblock, and you’re already figuring out how to roll right past it.” 

“Like I said, I come from a long line of stubborn women,” she winked.

“You won’t get any argument from me about that,” I said while walking to my next class. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I went home after school with one thought in my mind: I was falling really hard for Sierra, and how could I tell her that without making an idiot of myself?

Chapter 6 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

  Arriving back home, I told my parents about my time at Sierra’s, minus the hand hold, watched TV for a bit, then went to my room and called Tom.

“Dude, sounds like you made a bit of headway there,” He said. “Taking her hand ‘accidentally’ with no complaints is a good sign in my book.”

“Yeah, I had an awesome time,” I said, probably beaming through the phone. “Her art is incredible, man. If those sites get any traction, she’s going to blow up. As for the hand-holding... I don't know. Maybe I'm just over-analyzing it."

If this is a dream, I don’t wanna wake up.

“Anyways, that’s my report. I’m wound up so much, I hope my heart doesn’t blow a gasket.”

“That’s my man,” Tom laughed. “You know I hate dressing up, so give me fair warning if I need to buy a suit to serve as your best man,” he said, almost sounding serious.

“So. are we still on for that round of Call Of Duty tomorrow night,” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“You  know it buddy,” I replied. “I need some distraction.”

Arriving back home, I told my parents about my time at Sierra’s, minus the hand hold, watched TV for a bit, then went to my room and called Tom.

“Dude, sounds like you made a bit of headway there,” he said. “Taking her hand ‘accidentally’ with no complaints is a good sign in my book.”

“Yeah, I had an awesome time,” I said, probably beaming through the phone. “Her art is incredible, man. If those sites get any traction, she’s going to blow up. As for the hand-holding... I don't know. Maybe I'm just over-analyzing it."

If this is a dream, I don’t wanna wake up.

“Anyways, that’s my report. I’m wound up so much, I hope my heart doesn’t blow a gasket.” If I was a betting man, I would bet that Tom could hear my footsteps as I paced across the floor.

“That’s my man,” Tom laughed. “You know I hate dressing up, so give me fair warning if I need to buy a suit to serve as your best man,” he said, almost sounding serious.

“So, are we still on for that round of Call of Duty tomorrow night?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“You know it, buddy,” I replied. “I need some distraction.”

That night, I was totally exhausted in a good way, and I slept so soundly, I almost didn’t hear my alarm go off.

The next day was Saturday, so I had a whole weekend to think. Sierra was the only thing I could think of. Was she doing the same? Sometimes the things you don’t say speak louder than the words you say out loud.

My breakfast of pancakes and sausage was cooking, and while I was flipping my cakes, my phone buzzed. A text from Sierra:

Sierra: Hey good morning! What’s up?                                                                                                    Me: Waiting for breakfast to get done, how bout u?                                                                           Sierra: Same-Cya Monday gonna be late 2 school have a drs appt.                                                       Me: OK thanks for the heads up cya!

Later that afternoon, Tom and I hopped online for our gaming session. I actually managed to get my attention fixed on the screen, and until eight that night, we had a pretty good time—though he showed absolutely no mercy and gave me a good beating.

Tom stuck around Discord  for a couple more hours afterward. We tuned our TVs to the same program  and just hung out over the phone like all best friends should.  The rest of the weekend was nice and quiet, As I planned for the week ahead, I just  hoped that Sierra’s doctor appointment was going to go well.

Chapter 5 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

 “This is a pretty nice house you have here, and your room has a pretty sick setup,”  I remarked, looking around.

“Yeah, my parents got lucky," Sierra said, spinning her chair slightly to face me. "The previous owner’s wife used a wheelchair, too, so we scooped it up as fast as we could. Having the ramps and railing already here saved us a ton of remodeling.”

With the tour out of the way, we got down to business. Over the next three hours, Sierra's desk became a command station. We mapped out website designs, using graphics that she had designed herself, generated a chaotic amount of secure passwords, and launched dedicated Facebook and Twitter pages.

“Wow man, those passwords you’ve come up with are a bit too complicated for me to remember,” she laughed. Finally, she typed one in that made me pause:  CRASHED417. The date of her accident. What doesn’t kill you makes a heck of a good password, I thought. 

The best part, though, was helping her scan her artwork. Seeing her pieces pop up on the high-res screen made all the tedious tech setup entirely worth it.  The girl was definitely going places in the art world, if she kept it up.

The time passed like a flash. Taking a break from our final preparation to dig into those snacks, we sat back in our chairs and admired our creation. It was time to see if our work was going to pay off.

“It looks fantastic,” Sierra said through a mouthful of chips. “We’ll be getting hits in no time.”

“Let’s get this baby live,” I said, stretching my back.

Then it happened.

Both of our hands reached for the mouse at the exact same time to click  'Publish.' I let mine linger over hers for a split second. I could see a slight smile on her face. She wasn’t complaining.

After that awkward moment, we talked about everything except what just happened.

“I’m glad you invited me over,” I smiled. “I’d invite you over to my place sometime, but I don’t think you’d be able to make it past  the driveway, there are too many steps going to my porch.” Geez, why did I say that? I hope I didn’t blow it,  immediately ran through my mind.

Sierra just laughed it off, completely unfazed. “No problem,” she reassured me. “We can always hang out somewhere else. Plus, I’d love to meet your parents sometime. There are lots of public spaces, maybe dinner sometime?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” I grinned. “We can figure out when a good time would be.”

After a goodbye, I got on my bike and literally floated my way home, my heart was pounding so much I could hear it. I'd surprisingly made the first move, and now I couldn't wait to see what happened next. My excitement level was off the scale!

Chapter 4 Of When Her Story Met Mine

  The next afternoon, I was practically vibrating with anticipation.

“It’s nice that you’re helping that new girl out,” Mom told me as I packed my laptop into my backpack.

“Thanks, Mom. Sierra seems like a really cool person. After all she’s been through, it amazes me how level headed she is.”

As I pedaled toward her neighborhood, my mind was racing. I had to remind myself to slow down. Sierra might just see me as the tech guy, and the last thing I wanted to do was blurt out about how much I like her and make an idiot of myself. 

           Pulling up to Sierra’s house, I calmed my nerves, took a deep breath, parked my bike, walked up the wheelchair ramp,  and knocked on the door.

“Come on in, Jimmy,” Sierra’s mom said cheerfully, though she looked a little tired as she opened the door. “I’ll show you to Sierra’s room, she’s in there getting her desk cleared off.” She escorted me to the end of a long hallway, carrying a tray of snacks for us. “Her father and I are so grateful you’ve befriended her. She’s been through a lot the past three years, and it’s good to have a bit of stability in her life. I’ve been hearing non-stop about how you and your friends took her in so quickly. She’s been so happy these past few days.”

“You’re welcome,” I smiled. “It’s been great getting to know her and helping her get adjusted to a new school and introduce her to friends.”

Sierra’s mom directed me to a large room with a wide entrance. This was Sierra’s room.

“Hey, Jimmy, come on in!” she waved. 

Her room was painted in light blue, with posters and framed pieces of her artwork on the walls, and a bookcase at one end. Railing was installed around the walls, like  the other rooms I’d seen around the house, to help her get around. She was sitting in her wheelchair at a large desk that took up the whole corner of the room, getting her computer started.

Chapter 3 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

 Monday came, and Sierra and I had our daily lunch meetup.

“So, Jimmy, I’ve told you about myself, so why don’t you tell me some of your deep dark secrets?" she inquired, leaning forward. "What do you like to do for fun? What do you wanna be in life?”

“Well, no deep, dark secrets here,” I said, leaning back. “I like to work out, but I’m definitely the guy who prefers watching sports over playing them—I’m way too clumsy. Mostly I'm into computers, gaming, and history. My dad’s a total history buff, and I think it’s rubbing off on me. I’m actually hoping to be a history teacher someday.”

“That’s cool,” Sierra replied, setting her sandwich down. “Computers? You just might be the guy I’m looking for. I’m interested in setting up a website to display my art, and maybe one to start a forum where disabled people can talk about how they get along in life.”

“I can help you with that. I help run the school’s website and Facebook page. If you’d like, I can come over to your house sometime and help you get set up.” Maybe this was my opening.

“That would be awesome,” Sierra said, quickly scribbling on a scrap paper. “Here’s my address. Just call ahead and I’ll be waiting and ready.”

The bell rang, cutting our lunch short, but I was still riding the high of getting her address by the time I reached my locker. 

 “Dude, you really have it bad for her!” Tom exclaimed, slamming his own locker door shut. “I haven’t seen that look on your face since…Katie.”

Katie Allen. We dated from seventh to ninth grade, and what we had was pretty solid, but we had to end it when her mom’s job transferred her to Denver. Yeah, I was bummed a bit, but unlike most teenagers, I didn’t see it as the end of the world. Instead, I filed it away for future reference—a manual on what to do and what not to do in a relationship.

“Tommy, you may be right," I said, grabbing my history binder. "We’ll see what happens. She asked me to give her some help setting up a couple of websites, so I’ll be heading over to her place.”

“Ohhhhhh!” Tom laughed, nudging me with his elbow. “Have fun, be nice to the parents, and keep the bedroom door open.” He winked.

“Very funny.” I shook my head, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder.

Chapter 2 Of Where Her Story Met Mine

  Traffic was a bit on the heavy side that Friday evening, so I made it to Carl’s Pizza  with only a few minutes to spare. 

Tom was already there, along with our friends Jake, Nicole, Ed, and Lisa. Looking at them, I just hoped they remembered what I'd told them the day before about being on their best behavior. I wanted them to look at Sierra as a classmate, not a medical case. A few minutes later, Sierra wheeled in.

  “Guys, if you haven't met her yet, this is Sierra Duncan,” I introduced her.

“A few of you look familiar,” Sierra said. “Thanks for letting me join your get together. I’ve only been in town a few weeks, and I really like the way I’ve been welcomed.”

From that moment, the gang took in Sierra and made her one of our own.

  For the next three hours, the pizza,  wings, breadsticks, and soda flowed, we sat around the table eating, listening to the jukebox,shooting the breeze, and playing pool.  Nicole and Lisa immediately gravitated towards Sierra, striking up a conversation about that typical girl topic:  makeup and clothes.

Even though she was sitting at almost the exact same height as the table, Sierra held her own and did a pretty good job. She even got the best of Ed, usually our best pool player. He gave her a tip of the hat as they finished their game.

At 10 PM, we decided to call it a night. I stayed with Sierra to wait for her mom to pick her up while the others went their own ways. 

“So what did you think?” I asked her.

“I had a great time,” she smiled. “Your friends are awesome. I hope we can have some more hangouts like this.”

“Don’t worry, we will.” I assured her. “We’re always doing something. If it’s not here, it’ll be at the park, or at one of a million other locations around here. I’ll make sure that anywhere we want to hang out at will be wheelchair accessible.”

“Jimmy, you are amazing,” she said, “Even though my friends back in Miami were trying their best, I had the feeling that they thought they had to walk on eggshells around me after the accident. Don’t get me wrong, I had known most of them all my life, but after I recovered, things just didn’t quite feel the same. But here, I don’t feel that at all, it feels like I’ve been here for years.”

“We were all probably the new kid at one time,” I grinned. “I’ve never seen the guys warm up to someone so fast. Consider yourself a new initiate into the gang,” I laughed.

“What’s the secret password?” she chuckled. 

Sierra’s mom drove up, I helped her in to the van, and we went our separate ways for the weekend.

Sunday afternoon, I got a text from Sierra asking for my email address, she had something she wanted to send me. I replied, and 15 minutes later, my phone notification went off. I checked my email and saw that she had sent me a file. I switched to my  laptop to get a better view, and in JPEG form was a drawing that she made of all of us together at Carl’s. I was floored by the details. I fired up my printer, put in a piece of photo paper, and printed it out. I made myself a mental note to get a frame for it. That was a keeper, and I was starting to think that Sierra was too.

Chapter 1 Of A New Story-Where Her Story Met Mine

 Sometimes, love doesn’t arrive the way you expect it to.

For me, it rolled into my 10th-grade English class on an ordinary Thursday afternoon.

Back then, I was just Jimmy Patterson, another high school kid at Blue Ridge Heights High School in Virginia—nothing special, just part of a solid group of friends, trying to get through classes and figure life out. I had no idea that within a few minutes, my life was about to change in a way I never could have imagined.

At the start of class that day, our teacher, Mrs. Richardson, stood at the front of the room and smiled.

“Everyone, we’re getting a new student today. Let’s make her feel welcome.”

A few seconds later, the door opened.

A girl in a wheelchair rolled into the room.

“Class, this is Sierra Duncan,” Mrs. Richardson said.

“Hi, everyone,” she said, smiling. “My family and I just moved here from Miami. It’s nice to meet you all.”

There was something about her right away—maybe it was her confidence, or the way she smiled like she genuinely meant it. She had curly, shoulder-length brown hair, bright blue eyes behind silver wire-rimmed glasses, and a calm presence that made you feel like she belonged there, even on her first day.

I remember thinking she seemed like someone worth getting to know.

And that’s exactly what I decided to do.

The next day, I introduced myself to Sierra at lunch. “Hi, my name’s Jimmy, it’s nice to meet you. I see that you’re in a few of my classes. I’d be happy to show you around the school and get you familiarized with things.”

“Sure, I’d appreciate that,” Sierra smiled back.

“You’re welcome. And I’d like to introduce you to some of my friends. They’re some of the coolest people around, and I think they’ll like you and you’ll like them,” I told her.

“Thanks,” Sierra beamed. “It’s nice to be welcomed as much as I've been.”

“You’ll find that this is a very cool place, as far as schools go, and that both the teachers and kids will treat you pretty well,” I assured her.

“It’s nice making a friend so quickly.”

“You are most welcome,” I replied. “I can be shy occasionally, but once I get to know you better, I loosen up. Why don’t we hang out at lunch sometime?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Sierra beamed.

“What do you think, Dude?” I asked my best friend, Tom Edmonds.

“She seems like a cool person," Tom replied, locker door slamming shut. "Unless you’re talking about something else.” He laughed.

“Geez, man, we’ve known her for two days and you have me falling for her already.”

“Well, you haven’t had the best luck with the ladies,” Tom said, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t rub it in, Tommy Boy. Have you checked out your scorecard lately?” I laughed.

“Ouch” was all he could reply.

The next day, I asked Sierra to sit with me at lunch. She accepted, and after getting our food, we settled down. I looked down at her wheelchair for a split second and decided to risk either insulting her or making a fool of myself.

“Can I ask you something, if you don’t mind?”

“I think I know what it is,” she sighed, looking like she had been through this a million times. “You want to know what happened to me.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Well,” Sierra said while adjusting herself in her wheelchair, “two years ago, my sister Jackie and I spent a Saturday doing girl stuff, going shopping for clothes, lunch, the whole thing. Then that evening, as we were making our way home, while we were stopped at a red light, a drunk driver hit us on the passenger side, where I was. Jackie got off with a broken ankle, but I ended up... with a lower spinal cord injury, and as you can see, that left me paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Wow, I’m sorry if talking about it is uncomfortable. It had to be devastating,” I said, forgetting about my lunch, though I was famished.

“Yeah, it was,” she whispered, wiping the beginnings of tears from her glasses. “Back home in Miami, I was one of the top players on my girls’ Soccer team, and one of the best runners on our track team. All of a sudden, I’m lying in a hospital bed with doctors telling me that I’m never going to walk again, and my family totally speechless and in shock.”

“Man, I can only imagine,” I said while shaking my head, thinking that she’s doing a lot better handling the situation than I would.

Dang, I thought to myself. If that was me, I’d be a basket case. She’s one tough girl.

“Yeah, it was tough,” Sierra mused. “I let myself be sad and mad for maybe 3 weeks, then I got to work. Rehab was pure hell. Seriously, some days it almost broke me, but I totally stuck with it, and the specialists were pretty blown away by how dedicated I was. Six months zoomed by, and I finally got to head home, ready to figure out what my life was going to be like now that everything had changed. My parents spent a ton of money on making our house wheelchair accessible, getting me equipment to help me do things around the house, and making sure I had all the medical necessities that I needed. My friends really supported me, too. They held a fundraiser for me, came over nonstop, and were there for me when I was feeling down and out. You couldn’t ask for better friends than they were. After a year, I settled into this new normal, and life was about as normal as it could be. Then my dad’s law office gave him the job of setting up a new branch office here in Virginia, so here we are.”

“Wow, that’s quite a lot you’ve been through,” I sighed. “It looks to me like you’ve handled it well, to be honest with you. I don’t know how I could have dealt with it.”

“Thanks.” She laughed. “I come from a long line of stubborn people. My legs may not work anymore, but my brains and my hands do,” she smiled while reaching into a bag on the side of her wheelchair. “I have a pretty good imagination, so I decided to take up drawing.”

Sierra handed me a sketchbook, and the art I saw in it was pretty impressive: a view of the school, a lake scene, a drawing of three people who I assumed were her parents and sister, and finally, a self-portrait of her sitting at a desk with pencil in hand, coming up with another sketch. The pencil lead smelled fresh on the paper.

“Those are amazing,” I honestly told her. “You are really good at this, I mean it.”

“Thanks,” Sierra smiled. “I wanted to go to college on a Soccer scholarship and maybe make the pros, but since that’s obviously  off the board, I’m going to go for Graphic Design.”

“From what you’ve shown me, you’d kick ass at it,” I smiled, really meaning it.

“Thanks,” she beamed. “I’ve been here two days, and I feel right at home.”

“Glad to help out where I can,” I smiled back. "Listen, this evening, some of my friends and I are having a get together at the local pizza place, wanna hang out?”

Taking a second to think about it, she said, “Sure, why not? I don’t have anything planned for tonight, and it would be nice to get a lay of the land.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed. “Does 7 sound good?”

“Sure,” Sierra replied. “I’ll be there.”

Pulling out a piece of paper and a pen, I handed it to her. “Jot down your phone number, and I’ll text you the address of the pizza place.”

“Here you go,” she said, handing me the paper back after writing down her number.

The last bell of the school day rang, and I volunteered to wheel Sierra out to the parking lot. She accepted, and when we got out, she pointed over to a blue van. “There’s my Mom.”

We went over, and a woman jumped out of the driver’s seat and walked over. “Mom, this is Jimmy, he’s in a few of my classes. He asked me if I wanted to go to the local pizza hangout tonight and hang with some of his friends, is that OK?”

“Sure baby, it’s good you’re making friends. Jimmy, it’s nice meeting you.”

“Same here, Mrs. Duncan,” I said.

Sierra’s mom activated the wheelchair lift on the side of the van, secured her in the passenger’s seat, and both of them waved at me as they drove off.