Chapter Three Sera
Chapter Three
Sera
It rains all Sunday, keeping us in and threatening the bonfire.
I’ve been reorganizing my room, unable to sit still.
I moved all the furniture around, stacked my unread books by my bed, and sorted through art supplies I want to take with me to teach.
I’m scrolling through Instagram artist time-lapse videos when Maddy texts.
It’s cleared up enough, and everyone’s decided the bonfire is still on.
I’m both relieved and nervous. Even though I’ve been okay since January, I finished school from home and haven’t been to any parties in almost two years.
I rush to get ready, popping into Abbi’s room with my hair still wet from the shower to ask if Cam will be here in time to drive us.
“Probably not.” She’s lying on the floor listening to a science podcast. Something about volcanoes.
Her toenails are freshly painted, and the smell is still in the air even with her window propped open.
“We’ll just take Dad’s car, and you’ll drive us home.
” She tips her head back and looks me up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
I’d slipped on jeans and the Olivia Rodrigo concert T-shirt I dyed myself three years ago.
“Come on.” She tugs me back down the hall to my room, shoves me toward my closet, and takes the window seat, peering through the curtains at Luke’s house. “Show me something that doesn’t also double as painting clothes, workout clothes, or pajamas.”
My closet is honestly a little bare. Comfort clothing is all I’ve been bothering with for the last couple of years, and I haven’t done a refresh since I’ve gotten better. Everything from two summers ago is too small, kind of childish.
“Can I at least keep the jeans?”
“Yes, but then you need a tank top or a cuter shirt and a jacket. Do you still have that green one? And what are you doing with your hair? Makeup?”
I sigh again. My hair has always been a bit lackluster compared with Abbi’s, even though I like how long it is. “Probably just letting it dry. No makeup.” When Abbi does my makeup, it takes an hour.
“I’ll blow it out.” Abbi goes out to the bathroom and comes back with some products and the blow-dry brush, which, though old, isn’t rusty yet from the Cape humidity.
I pick out a few tank tops that still mostly fit, and she points to a cropped orange one.
I change my T-shirt out for it and sit on the bench in front of my wicker vanity.
“So”—Abbi moves into interrogation mode—“who are you seeing tonight?”
“Maddy, the volleyball girls, maybe some other friends from camp if they’re there.”
Abbi nods, her eyes focused. “And the evening’s goal?”
“Do I need to have a goal?” I laugh, then cringe as she pulls a little hard.
“Any situation you enter without a goal leaves you two steps behind. Opportunity wasted.” Abbi doesn’t like to do just one thing at a time. She thinks life is best when you’re operating at hyperspeed.
“It’s just a party, Abbi. Can’t my goal be to catch up with my friends?”
“Sure”—she switches hands and moves to the other side of my head—“but that feels like an easy, low-bar goal.”
“Fine, what’s your goal for the evening?” I tease her.
“Make sure Cam and my Cape friends hit it off well and experience a true moment of joy.”
“How is that different from mine?”
“It comes down to specifics, Sera.” Another sheaf of warm, now-straight hair falls against my back. “How are you going to remember tonight?”
“Right.” Abbi’s exuberance is grating on me, and I just want to be there already, away from these questions.
“Best summer ever,” she reminds me as she finishes the last section of my hair. It falls nicely around my shoulders, and I run my fingers through it, relaxing a bit. She’s being sisterly, just in her own way.
“Yes.” Healthy, happy, here. I can do specifics.
“So?”
I don’t hesitate this time. “Make sure Maddy knows how much I’ve missed her and…take a chance at something new.”
Abbi spins me around and grabs my shoulders, blue eyes practically glittering. “Yes, perfect.”
*
The bonfire is in full swing when Abbi and I arrive.
We haven’t hit solstice yet, so sunset is still stretching later every night.
We get there just as the last pink in the sky fades away, leaving the five or six bonfires spread down the beach to light our way from the lip of the dune.
Thirds Beach is a skinny slip of land between private houses that are too far away across the salt marshes to be bothered by the town’s teens blasting music and drinking.
I pause at the edge of the sand to take off my sandals and try to catch sight of Maddy at one of the fires. Abbi is already moving toward the closest one, waving at someone.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she says over her shoulder, just as I see Maddy sprinting up the beach toward me. I squeeze her into a hug, lifting her ever so slightly until she squeals.
“Strong as ever, I see,” she says as she leads me toward the fire she came from. I recognize a few kids from town, along with people I don’t know. Northport may be small, but the thing about the Cape is that when you throw a party, every teen from Falmouth to Harwich is going to come.
“Yep.” I take a deep breath of the smoke-tinged air and pat my chest once. After surgery last fall, my doctor put me into light strength training, saying it’d be good for my heart as it recovered. “All good.”
“I’m so glad you’re back.” Maddy breaks into the circle at the fire and leans down to grab a couple of sodas from a cooler, handing me one.
“I know you’ve already heard my complaints, but last summer sucked without you.
No one would come to the film festival with me, and work was a drag without you stopping by.
Luke was way too busy to come by on his own very much. ”
I crack open the soda, then hold it out to toast to her.
“Well, I’m so sorry for missing it—I’ll commit whatever crimes needed to make up for it.
” Maddy snorts. “For real”—I lower the can, clicking it against hers—“I wouldn’t have made it through the last couple of years without you.
Whatever you need this summer, I’m your girl.
Need me to watch Marissa so you can go on a date?
Rig the Fourth of July pie contest? Count me in. ”
Maddy laughs and slings an arm over my shoulder. “I may take you up on the pie sabotage, but I’m taking a hiatus from dating.”
“Really? No summer romance?”
“Not this year,” she says, dropping her voice to a whisper. “The breakup is still fresh. I need some me time. What about you?” Maddy pulls me over to sit on a couple of beach chairs that have just been vacated.
I look around. I haven’t seen Luke, but I get the sense he’s here. “I don’t think so,” I say. But in the back of my head I hear my own promise to myself, something new. “Though I’m not opposed to something,” I admit.
Maddy squeals. “I mean, Luke is still single, mostly. He’s never been serious about anyone.
I bet you’d be different. I still think what went down between you two had the beginnings of something epically romantic.
” She pins me with a look. “Talk to him?” Maddy’s too sweet to admit that what happened—or really, what almost happened—between Luke and me meant nothing to him.
“No, terrible idea. Not Luke. Over that temporary insanity.” The lie burns a little in my throat, and I take a quick sip of my soda. “We’re not even friends anymore.”
“Fine, okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
We settle back into chatting with the rest of the people around the fire.
Everyone fills me in on the parties I missed and tells me where they’re going to school.
Two friends from art camp are going to MassArt, and we exchange numbers so we can hang out in Boston this fall.
Maddy’s ex, Ella, is going to California, and we all groan and pester her for abandoning the East Coast. Most kids can’t wait to get off the Cape once they’re done with high school, and I get that.
I’m ready for a change too. But I’m still jealous that they got to spend their whole lives out here.
When we come down for off-season weekends and February breaks, the quiet is always so peaceful compared to the hum of summer Cape and year-round Brookline and Boston.
Maybe I’ll find a job and stay here this fall, work on perfecting my landscapes.
It’s an idea at least, and it sounds better than what my parents want, which is for me to start taking a couple classes next summer before I start college full-time the following fall.
“What about you, Sera?” Ella asks.
“Gap year, like Maddy. I’m not sure what I want to do.”
A couple people are walking by while I say it, and one of them does a double take.
Luke. Our eyes catch, and I look away, turning back to Maddy, who launches into a list of fairs and events that she wants to cook for or go to.
I’m trying to listen, but the group Luke is with has settled at the fire nearest ours and keeps turning up the music, so it’s hard to focus on anything else.
“Who are those guys?” I complain, trying to sound casual. Maddy looks over at the group.
“The baseball team. They killed it this year. Made it to state and actually won. They’re, like, the new football stars.” Before I can control it, I feel a quick twinge of pride.
“Northport had football stars?”
“Ouch, well played.” Maddy stands up and stretches. “I’ve gotta get going. I’m opening the diner tomorrow. We’re still on for the beach in the afternoon, right?”
“Definitely.”
“Great. I’ll bring the food!”
“Something edible?” I tease. Maddy’s well aware her concoctions don’t always work out.
“Bring snacks if you’re worried, but not too many, because it’ll hurt my feelings.”
“Heard, chef!”