Chapter 6

Peeling Back The Layers

Jimmy and I have just shared the legend of the curse of Lodi with the table. All eyes ping between us, then one another, as if no one knows quite how to react to our wild hunt for five mysterious flow points hidden throughout the city.

Jimmy notices. He shifts the energy by raising his glass.

“Good to get together. To childhood friends.”

We all follow. Glasses clink.

The table splinters into smaller conversations.
Cam leans into Lexi, peppering her with wedding questions.
Bridesmaid dresses. Flowers.
Whether she’ll do the new TikTok trend
where brides chop their hair between ceremony and reception.
I nod along, polite smiles where they fit.
Duke and Caleb swap golf stories.
Jimmy sits between them, quiet, just outside the center of gravity.
Like me.

Finally, he looks my way. Leans in.

“I still can’t believe the well flooded,” he says, low enough for only me to hear.

Neither can I.
I haven’t been able to wrap my head around it.
Maybe the yard crew hit a pipe.
Maybe it’s all explainable.
Normal.

“It had to be a coincidence, right?” I whisper.
Jimmy shakes his head and shrugs.

“Sometimes things are too coincidental to be coincidence.”

I lean back and sip from a sweating glass of water.
Take in the low hum of chatter.
The restaurant smells the same as I remember as a teenager.
Flour tortillas. Oil. Refried beans.

We’re halfway through chips and guacamole,
trading stories worn smooth with time.
The ones that lasted over the years.
We drop names. Who stayed. Who left.
Who still lives in their childhood bedroom,
selling weed unbeknownst to their parents.

We laugh about homecoming dates and bad haircuts.
Someone brings up the legendary senior prom afterparty.
I’d forgotten that there were some good times woven into the woes
of my Lodi upbringing.

Cam leans back, swirling her straw around her drink.

“Man. It’s like no time has passed.”

Duke grins, glass raised.

“The more things change, right?”

Cam leans in.

“Do they? Maybe we’re just slipping back into who we were because we’re around the people who remember us that way. Maybe apart we’re all totally different people.”

Caleb laughs.

“That’s too deep for two beers in.”

But Cam presses.

“No, really. Think about it. Do people ever really change? Or do we just develop new masks, new versions of ourselves to survive new people groups and new phases of life?”

The table stills.
Not awkward. Just thoughtful.

Jimmy leans forward, arms resting on the table.

“You can’t change your roots. But you can grow. New branches. New fruit. Doesn’t make them masks. Maybe just different pieces of who we are.”

Caleb shrugs.

“I think some people peak at seventeen. And some people are just getting started.”

Cam tilts her head. “Maybe we’re like... a bunch of versions stacked on top of each other. Layers. You just peel back the layer you want people to see. And the people who knew you first get to see the old layers. The ones you started with.”

Lexi lifts her glass in mock solemnity.

“Here’s to peeling back layers.”

We clink glasses again, and I smile along.
But inside, something unsettles.
Because I don’t know which version of myself this is.
Is this the old Jules, the Jules I’ve been set on reconnecting with?
Does she even exist anymore?
Can a person go through as much pain and disappointment as I have
and not change?
Or worse - can they disappear altogether?

Jimmy catches my eye.
He must see my wheels spinning.
He doesn’t say anything. His look shows his concern.
And that alone grounds me.

Lexi’s eyes dance.

“If you could tell your high school self one thing, what would it be?”

Caleb grins.

“Buy Bitcoin.”

Cam pelts him with a breadstick.

“Serious answers only.”

“That was serious,” he mutters.

Cam points to Lexi.

“You first.”

Lexi shrugs, a soft smile creeping in.

“I was hopelessly in love with Preston Lake. Thought I’d follow him to college, write for a local newspaper. I thought love would shape my whole future. Then he dumped me after freshman orientation and I spent the rest of the year in bed thinking my life was over.”

“Awww!” Cam wraps an arm around Lexi, resting her head on her shoulder.

“So, I guess I’d tell my younger self it’s okay to be alone first. Not to hitch my future on a boy’s wagon. To be okay with me so that I can be ready for the right love when it comes along.”

She bats her eyes at Duke and he leans in, kissing her temple.

Cam wipes her eyes dramatically.

“Okay, that was cute. Jimmy, you’re up.”

Jimmy sets down his glass.

“I’d probably tell myself the same thing I told myself back then. God first. Family is everything. Work hard. Enjoy the journey.”

“So you don’t think you’ve changed?” Cam asks.

Jimmy respects the question before answering.

“I’ve grown. Learned how easy it is to lose sight of those things. And how much love and discipline it takes to keep them first. It’s easier said than done.”

Cam leans back, thoughtful.

“I would have told myself not to get the lower back tattoo in Cabo senior trip. And to shop less so I could travel more.”

“You’ve traveled a lot though,” I remind her.

Cam nods.

“True. I lived it up in my twenties. I’ve been all over, met the coolest people. But I would tell myself to have a plan for when the fun is over. So that my thirties wouldn’t be spent trying to figure out what I want to do to make money.”

She shifts, and all eyes land on me.

I tap my glass. Stall.
What would I tell her? The girl I used to be?
Spend more time with Mom. As much as you can.
Don’t get married right away.
Don’t be afraid to put yourself first.
Don’t let loss make you hard.

“I think...” I say slowly, “I’d tell her it’s okay not to have it all figured out. That the road ahead would be full of unexpected twists and turns, and to trust herself more to navigate it without the perfect plan. It doesn’t mean she’s broken or behind. She’s just... human.”

Jimmy smiles at me.
That small, approving smile he saves for moments that count.

Lexi mock-sniffs and dabs her eyes.

“Okay, now I’m crying.”

Cam throws a chip at her.

Jimmy raises his glass again.

“To being human.”

We echo it back, glasses raised high.

“To being human.”

I drink the last sips of my beer.
It surprises me, but I’m enjoying the company.
The conversation.

Maybe I’m not the idolized version of myself
I spent my young adult years serving.
Some perfect future woman I created in my mind that I had to become.
Maybe I’m not her yet.
Maybe I never will be.
Maybe there’s still a small-town girl in me after all.
Buried under all the layers.

And maybe, I can hold both.
Be both.
Without judging one or idolizing the other.
Maybe I can finally settle into my own skin.

Jimmy insists on paying the bill. No fanfare, just kindness.

Lexi yawns and leans against Duke’s shoulder.

It feels like the night’s winding down, but Cam’s not having it.

“Come on, we’re in the middle of a detective story. We can’t just call it a night!” she protests. “Jules, show us the map again!”

I laugh but dig it out of my bag.
We spread it across the table between taco crumbs and beer rings.

Cam leans in, tracing a finger.

“Okay, so the well was here... and we fed the sheep.”

“Technically, the people,” I chime in.

This makes Jimmy laugh.

“Which line’s next?” Cam asks, following the jagged ink until her finger lands near the bottom corner. “Hey... isn’t this right around Tokay?”

We all lean in closer.
She’s right.
The second flow-point ends right near our high school.

“Let’s drive over and check it out,” she urges. “It can’t hurt, and if it’s a dud, we’ll just grab a twelve pack from Raley’s and head out to The Ponds.”

Jimmy gives Cam a side-eye.

“Some of us have work in the morning.”

“Okay. No Ponds,” Cam conceded. “But let’s drive to the school. For old time’s sake.”

Nobody says no.

We follow one another’s cars across town
like we’re seventeen again, rumbling toward the school.

Ten minutes later, we’re parked between street lamps,
staring at the fence surrounding the track and football field.

“Are we seriously going to break into school grounds?” Lexie asks.

“There’s no locked gate and it’s outside. So technically, we’re not breaking ‘in,’” I say. I knew one day those debate skills would come in handy.

Cam smirks.

”There she is!”

As if I’ve finally shared the rebellious version of me
she always knew was hiding below one of my layers.

Caleb goes first.
He hops onto the fence like a spider monkey who’s clearly done this before.

One by one we follow, hopping onto the track, ducking instinctively like someone’s going to blow a whistle.

My sneakers bounce against the rubber of the track as we walk,
pairing off without needing to talk about it.
Caleb and Cam are up ahead, arm in arm.
Lexi hangs back slow-dancing with Duke under the stars.
Jimmy falls into step beside me.

We walk in tandem, our arms brushing once.
Then again.

On the third graze, Jimmy’s hand finds mine.
We don’t look at one another, but I smile.
He laces his fingers around mine and my heart races.
Like this has been there all along, waiting just beneath the surface.

We take our time. Strolling under the dark night sky.
Then - a flash.
Cam’s snuck a photo of us from under Caleb’s shoulder.
I hear her giggle. Jimmy lets out a quiet laugh. I do too.

“Remember Coach Vierra?” Cam calls over her shoulder.

“Best PE teacher ever,” Jimmy says.

“I hated that guy!” Duke shouts back. “Always made me do burpees.”

“What was that quote he always said?” Lexi asks, arms wrapped around Duke’s neck.

I furrow my brow. The memory’s there, just out of reach.

“Something about time. And racing.” Cam says.

“Don't bother racing time. You'll never win. Just outrace who you were yesterday."

Jimmy quotes Coach Vierra word for word as though he has the banner hanging in his bedroom.

The words hang there, suspended between the goalposts
like the ghost of every pep talk we ever half-listened to.

A breeze picks up, ruffling the edges of the map in Jimmy's other hand.

I stop walking. Look down at the track, then at the grassy patch inside the first curve.

“Isn’t that the quote we put on the class time capsule?” I ask.

It’s coming back to me now.

“This is where we buried the time capsule!” I say, with more enthusiasm than I intended.

Jimmy lets go of my hand.
Opens the map.
Looks around the field,
then points toward the tennis courts behind the goal post.

“Didn’t we bury it around there?” he asks.

“I think so.”

I look over his shoulder at the map.

We exchange glances.

“No way,” Cam interrupts, laughing nervously. “No way it’s the same spot.”

But it is. The map shows it.

Jimmy jogs over.
Drops to his knees and looks up at me,
then starts pulling at the dirt with his hands.

I follow him.
Drop to my knees.
Dig faster.

Cam drops Caleb’s arm and prances over,
Duke, and Lexi join in, laughing and cursing
as we claw at the stubborn earth like treasure hunters chasing gold.

A foot deep.
Then another.
Until we hit -

Water.

It seeps up around our fingers. Cool. Clear. Unmistakable.

“What?!” Jimmy gasps.

“What’s here?!” I stand, knees caked and hands covered in mud.

I spin around, looking for some relic, some post, like the well at the corner where we served the people.

“There’s nothing here.”

“Just a water fountain,” Duke says, tossing a clump of mud at Lexie.

“Hey!” She pouts, scooping mud into her hand and throwing it back.

The two giggle wiping mud on eachother behind us
while Jimmy and I scour the map, shaking our heads.

“What do we do? Aren’t we supposed to do something, like last time?”

Jimmy shakes his head, as lost as I am.

“Dig up the time capsule?” He asks.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Jimmy and I keep digging.
We’re at least four feet down when his hand strikes something solid.
He scrapes around it carefully, revealing a metal box encased in thick plastic.

We all stare at it. Breathing hard. Afraid to touch it.

“Should we open it?” Lexi asks.

No one moves.

I shake my head. “I don’t think we should.”

Jimmy brushes dirt from the lid, then sits back on his heels.

“We’re supposed to dig it up as a class at our twentieth reunion,” I remind them.

Cam and Lexie agree.
Duke graduated three years after us and wasn’t part of the time capsule. Caleb moved to the area a year ago with his band and is picking mud from his ear.

We sit in a circle around the hole in the ground.

“What did you put in it?” Duke asks.

“Probably a Seventeen magazine or a bedazzled phone case,” Cam laughs. “I don’t remember. Something very 2000s I’m sure.”

Lexi groans. “I think I put in a burned CD. Probably emo. I was very in my feels back then.”

Jimmy smiles. “I put in a baseball glove.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

He shrugs. “The glove I used to play catch with my Grandpa and Dad when I was little. I wanted it to be something important.”

“What about you, Jules?” Cam asks.

I chew my lip, sifting through memory.

“I think I put in a page from a journal. A list of goals and dreams. About wanting to be a serious journalist and tell stories that would make world news.”

Jimmy squeezes my hand. Just enough to say he sees me.

“And, I think I put in a few swim medals. And a debate trophy.”

The group looks at me wide-eyed.

“I was pre-bragging with some delusion that twenty years later I’d have wild stories to tell that pointed back to my teenage success.”

Everyone laughs.

“Okay, I was a snob, I admit it!”

It actually feels kind of good to say.

We sit a while longer, the capsule between us, the night stretching out like a ribbon we’re all reluctant to let go of.

None of us says it, but we all know:
Some things are better left buried.
Not because they don’t matter.
But because opening them might change what they meant.

The past can be honored without being disturbed.
Past versions of ourselves can be, too.

We start filling mud back into the hole.

When suddenly, I’m blinded.

A siren bleeps.

A security car is pointing its headlights right at us.

“Run!” Caleb yells.

He’s the only one to get up and sprint toward the fence. He hops it and disappears into the night. I look at Cam.

“Yeah, I know, that wasn’t gonna last,” she shrugs.

We all jump to our feet.

A bald man with a belly hanging over his belt exits the car,
shining a flashlight and walking our way.

“You folks know you’re trespassing?”

Jimmy takes a step forward and speaks for the group.

“No sir, we all attended here. We’re just back reminiscing.”

“Jimmy Scott, that you?”

Jimmy claps the dirt from his hands and extends one out.

“Yes sir, Mr. Potts.”

The security guard takes Jimmy’s hand and shakes it. With the light out of our eyes, I can see it is Mr. Potts, our old high school janitor.

“You know I’m supposed to call this in to the police. Protocol.”

“Any way we could bypass protocol?” Jimmy asks. “We’re just showing an old alumni the grounds.”

The flashlight scans the track. The field.
It lands on the half-covered hole in the ground.
He raises an eyebrow to Jimmy.

“Looks like you’re doin more than walkin down memory lane.”

“We’re cleaning it up, putting it back just like it was.” I interject.

“Give me a minute,” Mr. Potts gruffs.

He hobbles back to the car and gets on his phone.

I look at the rest of the group. Duke’s giggling under his breath. Cam is vigorously texting, I can only guess to Caleb. Jimmy and I make eye contact. I don’t know if he’s upset or amused so I keep my eyes stern. He does too. Until we both break our tight-lipped cover laughing.

The car door slams and Mr. Potts returns.

'“Alright. Here’s the deal. I just got off the phone with Principal Garcia. You’re lucky he remembers you, Jimmy Scott. And likes you. Says I don’t have to report this.”

We all sigh.

“Thank you, sir.” Jimmy says.

“But, “ Mr. Potts continues. “He wants to see two of you here tomorrow morning, 9am on campus. You’re giving a ten minute lesson to the freshman business class.”

I laugh.
Mr. Potts doesn’t.

“Oh - you’re serious? The principal is giving us an assignment? We’re thirty years old!”

Mr. Potts doesn’t budge.

“Your call. Ten minutes of your morning, or a call to the police. Garcia probably won’t press charges, but you’re guaranteed to be out here at least another hour.”

Jimmy and I look at each other.

I raise my hand. “I’m free,” I offer, a sacrificial lamb for the rest of the group.

“Well I can’t, I have an interview tomorrow with a radio station in Sac.” Cam says, backing away.

“I’ll be here,” Jimmy says. “Thank you, Mr. Potts.”

Mr. Potts gets back into his car and drives back into the parking lot.

We fill the hole in silence, then take the long way around the fence back out to our cars. Cam winks at me as she climbs into her car and drives off.
It’s just me and Jimmy now.
He walks me to my car. Opens my door.
He takes my hand again, and I’m suddenly nervous.
He must see it. Jimmy seems to have a way of knowing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” he asks.

“Bright and early,” I laugh.

I shimmy into my seat and he closes the door behind me, watching as I drive away.

I’m not tired when I get home. I’m too excited about all that’s happened. So I pull out an old notebook from the bottom of my suitcase.

Blank pages. Waiting.

My hand hovers over the first line.
For the first time in months, maybe longer, the words come.

Not for my thesis.
Not for approval.
Just for me.

I write about Lodi. About the rivers that once ran around and beneath.
About how time might exist like water. Not linear, but pooling. Circling back.

I write about the fountain. The heart-shaped map.

I write about false perceptions, and the surprises waiting behind an open mind.

I write about losing things, and how sometimes losing something is what leads you on the journey to finding yourself again.

I write until my hand cramps, then close the notebook and set the alarm for morning. Tomorrow, I’ll return to high school, this time to teach. It’s not a TED stage, but I’m strangely looking forward to it.

I wonder about the second flow point as I scrub the mud from my nails in the shower. If I’ll wake up to another flood headline in the morning.
I think about holding Jimmy’s hand on the track where we used to run laps for misbehaving.

Funny, the way life loops you back to where you started.
And while I can’t be certain, I’m pretty sure I fall asleep smiling.

Stay tuned for Chapter 7 next Thursday!
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