Chapter 3 Don’t Make Impulsive Decisions （…This Might Be a Bit Too Late）
To absolutely no one’s surprise, actions have consequences, and on August first, I have to deal with a whole list of them.
For starters, I’ve barely gotten any sleep.
Thanks to my annoying little brain full of its annoying little thoughts, I lay awake for most of the night, tossing and turning and unable to relax a single muscle in my body.
With the amount of stressing I did, you’d think I was being sent to my death today rather than some silly summer camp named SMASH!
Though I suppose that, if you look at it poetically, I am dying today—the old me is, at least.
Luckily, I’m not a poet.
Another consequence I’m not too happy with is the fact that the drive from Willowmoor to Bloomdale will take an hour and a half. That means that for the next—I glance at the GPS—hour and twenty-five minutes, I’ll be stuck in this car, trying not to groan whenever I get stress-induced cramps.
I sink a little in my seat and put one hand over my stomach, using the other to pointlessly scroll through my phone.
Somehow, without thinking about it, my fingers open my chat with Daniel.
It looks the same as it has for three weeks now, his four text messages from the morning after the party still unanswered.
Daniel:
hey
i am so sorry about last night
it’s honestly all a blur to me now
but i really did mean it when i said there should be no hard feelings between us
so i’m sorry if drunk me ruined that
I want to tell him it’s okay, want to reply that I get it and that I forgive him. We could move on to our next chapter—the one in which I win him back and we fall hopelessly in love—but I can’t. Not yet. Because for the time being, my forgiveness would be a lie.
So, I still haven’t replied.
Before I close the chat, I reread Daniel’s messages one more time.
I know his words by heart at this point, but seeing them on my screen still makes me want to throw my phone out the window.
Or, even better, my whole existence. Instead my hands tighten around my phone until my knuckles are white, as if I’m hoping I can squeeze every bit of life out of it.
“You okay?” Noah asks from next to me, a slight crease between his eyebrows when I turn his way and drop my phone.
“It’s nothing I’m not used to. I get my period every month, you know,” I lie.
In reality, I was on my period last week, but Noah doesn’t know that, so it’s an easy excuse.
Since I really don’t feel like admitting the thought of summer camp is making me physically ill, I straighten my back a bit, trying to give him a forced smile through another uncomfortable shot of pain.
My brother takes a sip of water, his short brown hair already clinging to his forehead from sweat.
Dad’s black car is an oven at this point, despite the air-conditioning working its ass off to make the temperature more bearable, and with the sun still out, it’s not bound to get better anytime soon. Florida summers are brutal.
Noah puts his water bottle back in the cooler, then turns to me. “It’s going to be fun, Ellie. Just…trust me.”
I know I’m not the best liar, but seriously? How did he see through my lie that quickly?
I thought I’d feel prepared for this. I really, really did, but even though the last consequence on this mental list of mine was inevitable the moment I promised Daniel I would come along months ago, it’s somehow still the thing that has caught me off guard the most. Because right now, I’m actually on my way to beach volleyball summer camp.
“Noah is right, sweetie,” Mom chimes in, turning to look at me with a smile from the passenger seat.
“We realize how big and scary new things like this are for you, but stepping out of your comfort zone is going to pay off.” Her lips part again as she hesitates before saying, “You know, you were such a happy child before middle school—always laughing as loud as you wanted and talking everyone’s ears off.
” Her smile falters. “It’s been so sad to see you lose that light you used to always carry.
I really think SMASH! is exactly what you need.
A place to be yourself with people who will show you how much that is worth.
” She swallows, her eyes glazed over with emotion.
“I hope you can find your sunshine again, my love.”
I look away, having to break our eye contact as the ache in my heart becomes too much to face her. “I hope so, too.”
When I took some distance from my parents, I thought I was just protecting them.
During my time in middle school, when I was being bullied, they had to deal with so much.
Calls with the school, appointments with my therapist, and that’s not even including my almost-daily mental breakdowns.
Mom always told me how much it broke her heart to see me like that, so I…
I thought that by locking everything up inside me, I’d spare her some hurt.
That as long as I pretended to be fine, she wouldn’t have to worry about me at all.
But I never considered how it must’ve been for her and Dad to see how their daughter locked herself away.
Maybe Daniel isn’t the only reason I should let go of my rules. Maybe it’s about time I do this.
Mom reaches for my hand, and when I give it to her, she squeezes. “We’re so proud of you, Eleanore.”
Dad hums in agreement from behind the steering wheel, glancing at Mom for a second before turning away, only to then look back at her again. “Are you really crying over our daughter going to a camp named SMASH!, Carolyn?” he teases.
“Finally!” I exclaim, glad to see the conversation take a turn that doesn’t make the air around me feel so heavy. “I’ve been waiting for someone to address the name!”
Mom shakes her head, quickly wiping away the little tear that was starting to leave her eye. “I think it’s a fun name! And I’m not crying. My eyes are just…sweating a little.”
“With this heat, I honestly could believe that,” Noah says, sweeping some of the sweat off his forehead once again.
I reach for my bottle of water, somehow resisting the urge to pour it all over me so I can cool down a bit more, even if just for a moment. After a good sip of water, I take another look at the clock. An hour and twenty minutes left in this car slash oven.
Surely I will survive.
Given the fact that I’ve decided to join a beach volleyball camp, you’d think I wouldn’t mind a little sand between my toes, but let’s get one thing straight right now: I very much do.
I’ve barely set foot on the beach when a shiver goes through me.
This sensation should be such a small, barely noticeable thing, but there’s something about the way the tiny grains of sand scrape against each other that I feel in every single part of my body.
It travels from my toes to my belly and from my shoulders all the way to my brain, scratching it in the most unpleasant of ways.
And I have a whole two weeks of this feeling to look forward to. Just…great.
I consider turning back around and running after Mom and Dad’s car in hopes of them taking me home with them, but I know Noah wouldn’t let me. And besides, I don’t think I’m physically capable of running that fast, but oh well. A girl can dream.
My brother is to my left, his feet strolling through the sand as he is seemingly unbothered by one of the worst feelings in the world. “Are you ready for your life-changing summer, Ellie?”
I lift my gaze from our feet to his eyes.
In this light, his irises are a brighter blue than usual, the gray in the blue-gray eye color we share becoming less evident with the sun shining on our faces.
It’s not the same shade as that of the sky above us or the ocean that’s approaching, but it’s still blue.
As I take in both him and our surroundings, it’s impossible not to feel like he belongs here.
Even though we look alike, I can’t imagine the same is true for me.
Still, I say truthfully, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We near a crackling campfire surrounded by dozens of teenagers, and I can already hear some of the chatter and laughter from here. It feels very peaceful, and as I take a deep breath and let the evening air fill my lungs, my heart rate starts to slow down.
Until it picks up again when someone lets out a ridiculously loud scream.
“IT’S NOAH! OH MY GOD!” the person yells, and just like that, all heads whip in our direction.
For a second, everything is completely silent, and the next, a group of screaming people are running across the beach so they can throw themselves into my brother’s arms. They’re so fast that I can barely even catch a glance of their faces, and I doubt they’ve noticed my existence at all.
As I stand there, a few inches away from the group, I turn to one of the people who came along with them but hasn’t joined in on the hug, either. She’s Black and is wearing a deep red hijab. When she notices that I’ve noticed her, she gives me a knowing smile.
“First year, too?” she asks, at which I nod. “Nice to meet you. I’m Yasmeen, she/her.”
No one has ever introduced themselves to me with their pronouns before—almost everyone at school thinks it’s weird or unnecessary to do so—but something about it instantly warms my heart. “Ellie,” I tell her, the corners of my mouth lifting automatically. “My pronouns are she/her as well.”
Before the two of us get to say anything else, Noah breaks free of his friends with a laugh and walks back to me. He turns to the group. “Everyone, meet Ellie. My sister,” he tells them.
“Welcome to SMASH!” A white girl with short, dark red–dyed hair and a nose ring smiles up at me.
“This is Max,” Noah lets me know, but a second later Max is already gone, screaming and running away to hug another new arrival. “Well, that was Max,” Noah says now. Four other people rush after her as soon as they’ve welcomed me, telling me their names so quickly that I can’t process a single one.