Chapter Three #2
I walked away before she could argue with me.
I said hi to Marcy, to Frankie who I used to ride the bus with in middle school, to Alice who was my best friend in kindergarten, to Simon who I was on yearbook with.
I’d known most of these kids my whole life and yet I’d never felt more homesick for Cousins.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Taylor chatting it up with Cory, and I made a run for it before she could call me over.
I grabbed a soda and I made my way over to the trampoline.
There was no one on it yet so I kicked off my flip-flops and climbed on.
I laid down right in the middle, careful to hold my skirt close to me.
The stars were out, little bright diamond flecks in the sky.
I gulped down my Coke, burped a few times, looked around to see if anyone had heard me.
But no, everyone was back by the house. Then I tried to count stars, which is pretty much as silly as trying to count grains of sand, but I did it anyway because it was something to do.
I wondered when I’d be able to sneak away and go back home.
We’d taken my car, and Taylor could get a ride home with Davis.
Then I wondered if it would look weird if I wrapped up a few hot dogs to take with me for later.
I hadn’t thought about Susannah in two hours, at least. Maybe Taylor was right, maybe this was where I was supposed to be. If I kept wishing for Cousins, kept looking back, I would be doomed forever.
As I was thinking this over, Cory Wheeler climbed up onto the trampoline and made his way to the middle, to where I was. He laid down right next to me and said, “Hey, Conklin.”
Since when were Cory and I on a last-name basis? Since never.
And then I went ahead and said, “Hey, Wheeler.” I tried not to look at him. I tried to concentrate on counting stars and not on how close he was to me.
Cory propped himself up on one elbow and said, “Having fun?”
“Sure.” My stomach was starting to hurt. Running away from Cory was giving me an ulcer.
“Seen any shooting stars yet?”
“Not yet.”
Cory smelled like cologne and beer and sweat, and oddly enough, it wasn’t a bad combination. The crickets were so loud and the party seemed really far away.
“So, Conklin.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you still seeing that guy you brought to prom? The one with the unibrow?”
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “Conrad doesn’t have a unibrow. And no. We, um, broke up.”
“Cool,” he said, and the word hung in the air.
This was one of those fork-in-the-road kind of moments. The night could go either way. If I leaned in just a little to my left, I could kiss him. I could close my eyes and let myself get lost in Cory Wheeler. I could go right on forgetting. Pretending.
But even though Cory was cute, and he was nice, he was no Conrad. Not even close. Cory was simple, he was like a crew cut, all clean lines and everything going in the same direction. Not Conrad. Conrad could turn my insides out with one look, one smile.
Cory reached over and flicked my arm playfully. “So, Conklin… maybe we—”
I sat up. I said the first thing I could think of. “Shoot, I’ve gotta pee. I’ll see you later, Cory!”
I scrambled off the trampoline as fast I could, found my flip-flops, and headed back toward the house. I spotted Taylor by the pool and made a beeline for her. “I need to talk to you,” I hissed.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her over by the snack table. “Like, five seconds ago, Cory Wheeler almost asked me out.”
“And? What did you say?” Taylor’s eyes were gleaming, and I hated how smug she looked, like everything was going according to plan.
“I said I had to pee,” I told her.
“Belly! Get your butt back over to that trampoline and make out with him!”
“Taylor, would you stop? I told you I wasn’t interested in Cory. I saw you talking to him earlier. Did you make him ask me out?”
She gave a little shrug. “Well… he’s been into you all year and he’s been taking his sweet time asking you out. I might have gently pushed him in the right direction. You guys looked so cute on the trampoline together.”
I shook my head. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”
“I was just trying to take your mind off things!”
“Well, I don’t need you to do that,” I said.
“Yes, you do so.”
We stared at each other for a minute. Some days, days like this, I wanted to wring her neck.
She was just so bossy all the time. I was getting pretty sick of Taylor pushing me in this direction and that direction, dressing me up like one of her shabbier, less fortunate dolls. It had always been like this with us.
But the thing was, I finally had a real excuse to leave, and I was relieved. I said, “I think I’m gonna go home.”
“What are you talking about? We just got here.”
“I’m just not in the mood to be here, okay?”
I guess she was getting sick of me too, because she said, “This is starting to get old, Belly. You’ve been moping around for months. It’s not healthy…. My mom thinks you should see someone.”
“What? You’ve been talking to your mom about me?” I glared at her. “Tell your mom to save her psychiatric advice for Ellen.”
Taylor gasped. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
Their cat, Ellen, had seasonal affective disorder, according to Taylor’s mother. They had her on antidepressants all winter, and when she was still moody in the spring, they sent Ellen to a cat whisperer. It didn’t do any good. In my opinion, Ellen was just plain mean.
I took a breath. “I listened to you cry about Ellen for months, and then Susannah dies and you want me to just make out with Cory and play beer pong and forget about her? Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Taylor looked around quickly before she leaned closer and said, “Don’t act like Susannah’s the only thing you’re sad about, Belly. You’re sad about Conrad, too, and you know it.”
I couldn’t believe she said that to me. It stung. It stung because it was true. But it was still a low blow. My father used to call Taylor indomitable. She was. But for better or for worse, Taylor Jewel was a part of me, and I was a part of her.
Not altogether meanly, I said. “We can’t all be like you, Taylor.”
“You can try,” she suggested, smiling a little. “Listen, I’m sorry about the Cory thing. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know.”
She put her arm around me, and I let her. “It’s going to be an amazing summer, you’ll see.”
“Amazing,” I echoed. I wasn’t looking for amazing. I just wanted to get by. To keep moving. If I made it through this summer, the next one would be easier. It had to be.
So I stayed a little while longer. I sat on the porch with Davis and Taylor and I watched Cory flirt with a sophomore girl. I ate a hot dog. Then I went home.
At home the sandwich was still on the counter, still wrapped in plastic.
I put it in the fridge and I headed upstairs.
My mother’s bedroom light was on, but I didn’t go in to say good night.
I went straight to my room and got back into my big Cousins T-shirt and undid my braid, brushed my teeth, and washed my face.
Then I got under the covers and lay in bed, just thinking.
I thought, So this is what life is like now. Without Susannah, without the boys.
It had been two months. I’d survived June.
I thought to myself, I can do this. I can go to the movies with Taylor and Davis, I can swim in Marcy’s pool, maybe I can even go out with Cory Wheeler.
If I do those things, it will be all right.
Maybe letting myself forget how good it used to be will make things easier.
But when I slept that night, I dreamed of Susannah and the summer house, and even in my sleep I knew exactly how good it used to be. How right it was. And no matter what you do or how hard you try, you can’t stop yourself from dreaming.