Dakota Britton-Barrows - The Same Beat

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Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Britton-Barrows, Dakota.
Title: The same beat / Dakota Britton-Barrows.
Description: New York : West 44, 2022. | Series: West 44 YA verse
Identifiers: ISBN 9781978595606 (pbk.) | ISBN 9781978595682
(library bound) | ISBN 9781978595620 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Childrens poetry, American. | Childrens poetry,
English. | English poetry.
Classification: LCC PS586.3 B758 2022 | DDC 811.60809282--dc23

First Edition

Published in 2022 by
Enslow Publishing LLC
29 East 21st Street
New York, NY 10011

Copyright 2022 Enslow Publishing LLC

Editor: Caitie McAneney
Designer: Katelyn E. Reynolds

Photo Credits: Cvr E.R. Images/Shutterstock.com; cvr, pp. 1-196 (torn newspaper) STILLFX/Shutterstock.com; p. 136 (note) ESB Professional/Shutterstock.com; p. 180 (postcards) MM_photos/ Shutterstock.com.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer.

Printed in the United States of America

CPSIA compliance information: Batch #CW22W44: For further information contact Enslow Publishing LLC, New York, New York at 1-800-398-2504.

I hear my parentsshuffle aroundthe house.Get ready for work.I hear the soft humof an engine.Tires briefly stopping.The creak of thethe mailbox door opening.The car continuing on.The newspapers have arrived,and I race to grab them. My parents joke thatI am an older persontrappedin a younger body.Reading a newspaperwith breakfast.Pausing for a sip of coffeebetween paragraphs.Trying to take in as muchof the real worldas I can. My best friend Mariapicks me up in herbeat-up station wagon.Its a hand-me-downfrom her grandmother.Its still perfect toget us to wherewe need to go. We gather with our classmates in front of theschool doors,waiting for first period to start.I am still catching upon the days headlineson my phone.Maria pulls a small mirrorout of her purse,applying the makeupthat her mother wont allow. that the buzzing chatteraround me is a newsroom.That everyone is grabbing theircoffees, rushing to their desks.Pounding on their keyboardsuntil they are released from the roomlike lightning bugs from a mason jar.Ready to explore the worldwith fresh eyes. Our circleis filled with peoplewho are mostly thereto talk to Maria.I jump into aconversationevery so often.But mostly I keepreading,even if theycall me a nerd. She acts like shes not.But she has boysask her out weekly.And the popular girlsask her to hang out onthe weekend.They always say,You can bring Teeganif you want. We met in the fifth grade,when we had all thesame classesand Maria still hadthe gap between her front teeth.When she got picked onso bad that I was theonly one whostood up for her.Now shestands up for me. We go to the parkor the lake.We lie in the sunon a blanket wekeep in the car.Pack snacksand watch peoplego about their day.We read side by side.Fall asleep sometimes,with the smell of grassinching toward our faces.We show each otherfunny videos wefind online and laughuntil our cheeks burn.Its so simpleand perfect.Its us. Even though the printis always inblack and white,facts and truth,stories are not assimple as that.Theres always a gray area.Is this person a bad person?Or did they just do a bad thing?Those are the stories I crave.A dig into the background,a dive into the deep end,a trail of informationwith no end in sight. Straight teeth;chestnut brown hair,long and wavy;hazel eyes;olive skin;dark, edgy clothesthat hang fromher thin body.Her personalitycould keep youwarm in the winter.She has a laughthat could makeyou feel like its summerall year long. I would trademy plain brown hairfor a blondethat would bring outmy green eyes.I would add an inch or twoto my heightto stand taller.I would research styleso that I could say that I had one.Cut these jeans to fit better,feel good in a tight shirt.I would take this frownand replace it with a smileso brightthat I could light upthis whole town. I go tothe newspapermeeting.Maria goes tothe photo clubmeeting.We meet at thestation wagon after.Maria wants to knowwhat Im writing. I amalways writing somethingpoems, short stories, news stories.So I give her my latest beatmy special news assignmentto look at.She shows meher new photos.We crank the radioall the way home. we have dinner as a family,and sometimes my parentswork late and I order takeout.I retreat to my room.Return to the open bookson my walnut-stained desk.Dive into researchingmy next article:The Effects of Cliques on Teenagers Their own history,likes, dislikes,complex emotions.It interests me to watchhow these stories cross intoothers.How we are one personbut have a part inso many otherlives.How it matterswhat we do with our chapter. When this summercame upin conversationwith Maria,I never expectedit to be differentfrom all the others.I figured wed spend itlike we always dotogether. Maria tells me shes goingon a road trip this summerto all the collegesshe might want to attend.She seems so excited,so set on success.And I already feel likeshes leaving me behind. Maria said wed be together forever,go to college together,live next door to each other,have babies at the same time.Our lives would be on the same track,like we were married to each other.But here she is, telling me about her plansand not inviting me.And it hurts to knowthat there will be an end.She will go her way.I will go mine. when she wont be there for me.Or maybe itll be mewho gives up on us.Either way, Im not readyfor the heartbreakof letting her go. that I want to be productive this summer.That I need to figure out my plans.That I need to be okay without my best friend.I am freaking out.Icantjuststayherewithouther.I need my own plans,my own path,my own dreams.I cant put myself second anymore. buzzeswith excitementas summer approaches.Everyone feels antsy.Its windows-down,music-up-loudkind ofweather.We are all waitingto feel free. is the lake of my childhood.So soft in the sunshine,velvet ripples,calming.Theres me, always observing,never wading in,not interested in breakingthe steady waves.Everyone else runs on the docks.Everyone else jumps in.I wonder if Ill everbe brave enoughto make a splash. I feeldifferent,restless,reckless.She asks meif it has anythingto do with herleaving. I stay silent because I dont know what to say.I dont want to tell her how betrayed I feel.She swallows me in a hug and tells meshe wishes I could come with her this summer.How its not going to be the same without me.But she never says whyshe needs to go so farthat I cant follow.Why she suddenly chosea different pathwhen I thought wewere on the same road.