Once summer came, Matty’s arm was fully healed and he started both baseball and tennis, along with most of the boys from our class. Us girls would trek to every game and every match, asking our parents to drive us but also insisting they drop us off a couple of blocks away so that we could walk up to the baseball field or tennis courts ourselves. We would try to watch the boys play but we usually got bored and spent most of the time gossiping.
There were always a few girls who had crushes on Matty; but at that age, most of us liked at least a couple of boys at any one time, narrowing our focus to whichever one seemed to offer us the most attention. That particular summer, I “went out” with Jimmy for one week. During that time, we spoke to each other for all of five minutes before we agreed we were better off as friends.
Matty had two girlfriends that summer, both friends of mine; but, just like with Jimmy, those relationships lasted about a week with little actual contact. By the time we finished middle school, most of us in our group had coupled up for at least a day at one point. Fortunately, no one had gotten their heart broken too badly and we all remained friends.
While I no longer wore a cast by summer, I was still dealing with pain and stiffness from my broken arm as well as lingering soreness in my back. I ended up going to physical therapy three times a week for nearly two months in order to regain my full range of motion. Matty tagged along when he could; and my physical therapist even let Matty come into the treatment room with me. If Matty came, my mom would just drop us both off at the medical complex and pick us up once my appointment was over. She felt that, since I was only twelve years old, that I shouldn’t be there alone. But as long as Matty was with me, she felt okay to leave. I think she liked the chance to be able to run an errand or two by herself rather than sitting with me during therapy.
That summer was also when Matty began climbing up to my second story bedroom window. The first time was on a Friday night after I’d missed one of his baseball games due to having a fever. While I wasn’t running a high temperature, my mom had decided it was best to keep me home. I remember calling Krista on my pink princess telephone to tell her I wouldn’t be able to go with her to the game.
That evening, I was in my room watching television from my bed when I heard a noise outside. I sat straight up, terrified, and ready to scream for my dad when I heard Matty call my name. “LEE-AH!” he said in a loud whisper. “LEE-AH? Are you awake?”
I got out of bed and ran to my window, struggling to figure out how to get it unlocked as I had never opened it before. I finally managed to push the bottom pane up and popped my head out to see Matty half-way up the trellis against our house.
“Matty! What are you doing?” I asked in my own loud whisper. “Why don’t you just come to the front door?”
Matty pulled himself up a few more feet until he was able to climb onto my window ledge. “What fun would that be?” he asked with a big smile. “This is way cooler!”
Once he was inside, I went over to my bedroom door and pressed my ear against it, listening for any signs my sisters or parents were heading upstairs. I knew they were all in the living room watching a movie; it had been too childish for me, hence why I was in my bedroom. Hearing nothing, I turned back around and gave Matty a smile. By then, my fever was gone and I was feeling fine. We just stood looking at each other for a moment before sitting down on the floor in front of my bed.
“I was worried about you when you weren’t at the game; but afterwards, Krista told me you were sick. So, I thought I’d better head over here to make sure you were okay.” Matty leaned over to me and put both hands on my cheeks, and then the back of his hand on my forehead. “Cool as a cucumber!” he proclaimed. “Were you faking it to get out of watching me play ball?” he asked with an exaggerated frown.
“No! I had a fever this morning, but I’m fine now,” I said, blushing slightly at how his warm hands on my face made me tingle. I suddenly realized I was only wearing my flimsy shorty pajama set, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them in order to cover myself better. “Sorry I missed your game, though. Who won?”
“Us, of course!” Matty answered a little bit too loudly before lowering his voice back down. “I even hit a home run.”
“You always hit a home run!” I said, rolling my eyes. “It would be news if you didn’t hit one.” We spent about an hour chatting about everything I had missed before, during and after the game. We were twelve years old on that day, and at that age, every single moment of the day seemed important enough to recap.
And from that night on, Matty made it a habit to climb up my trellis and come through my window. He only used the door when he was with me or my family coming home from school or an event. Otherwise, the window it was. In the years that followed, I only told Krista about it and swore her to secrecy. While we never discussed it, both Matty and I clearly felt we needed to keep it a
