Chapter 6 14 Years Ago
CHAPTER 6
14 YEARS AGO
September
MSN Messenger
Lia: How did the start of school go? It’s been so busy for me.
Wes: It’s fine, other than math, but I’m making some friends in my class, finally
Lia: That’s great!
Wes: None of them likes to read like you though, so don’t think you’re replaced.
Lia: Speaking of, just finished chapter 3, I can’t believe Aline would treat McKenna that way!
Wes: Keep reading, it only gets better!
13 YEARS AGO
June
The last school year had been terrible. I joined Model UN with my closest school friend, Zainab. At first I’d enjoyed having a friend with me, but then our mothers started comparing us and it felt like we were competing on their behalf. When it was my turn to deliver the closing speech, I froze. Meanwhile Zainab flourished. My dad had never looked so disappointed. But when Zainab registered for the debate team for the upcoming year, my parents still insisted I join as well. They didn’t seem to get why I hated public speaking or why when other people looked at me, my face steamed red and my words flew back down my throat until I choked. They thought that I should be loud and opinionated at school, even though at home, I was expected to be quiet and obedient.
As the year came to an end, I vowed I would be ready for debate next year. I wasn’t going to let my parents down. My free time was now spent reciting practice debate speeches to my audience of old stuffed animals.
I couldn’t wait to get back to the cottage. Wes had become a daily fixture, a faceless internet friend who I told almost everything to. We talked about school, plans for the upcoming summer and the books we’d been reading. The only things I couldn’t bear to discuss were the scenes in his grandmother’s romance novels that made my face red and heart fast. We stayed up late at night and messaged almost every day, except for the evenings when Wes went out with his friends or when I had Model UN or law school interest club meetings. But now, on the drive to the cottage with my family, I worried that we would be awkward in person.
“Do you think it will be weird to hang out with someone we haven’t seen for a year?” I whispered to Mel in the back seat.
“You’re overthinking it.” Mel slapped my restless shaking leg. “We were just there last summer. Besides, you’re always messaging him.”
My sister stayed in touch in a cursory way. Wishing him a happy birthday, following him on our new social media accounts.
“What did you say, Mel?” my dad asked. My sister and I were in my dad’s car for the ride up. He’d worked extra overtime this year and sprung for a second vehicle so my mother would have a car at the cottage while he was in the city working. I’d never seen my mother more pleased at a present.
“Nothing,” I said. My dad wouldn’t have liked to know how much time I spent messaging Wes, even though there was nothing to feel guilty about.
“You girls and your nothing,” my dad said from the front seat, twiddling with the radio. He gave us a small smile through the rear-view mirror, but his eyebrows were knit together.
Our tires crunched on the gravel when we turned down our driveway, our mom’s car already parked ahead. My foot shook faster as the anticipation wound in my belly. I’d told Wes we’d be coming up sometime today, but he wouldn’t know the exact time we would arrive.
I wasn’t prepared for the tall, tan figure walking to the car once we’d parked.
“You made it!” Wes said as I got out of the car. He ran his hands through his too long hair. The dirty blond had lightened to strands of gold against his sunned skin. He’d clearly been outside a lot, already enjoying the summer. Even though my natural skin tone was darker, I felt pale and wasted from spending my days behind a computer screen.
“We did,” I said, a wide smile cracking my face. I was struck by how I had to look up to see him now. His eyes flicked downwards, as if taking in my changes too. Though I hadn’t grown in height, I had grown some curves. And after crying to my mother about how the other girls stared at the dark black hair on my legs in gym class, I’d finally been allowed to get my own razor.
Wes reached his lanky arms out as if he were going to press me against him, but I retreated, my eyes darting to my dad as he got out of the car.
“Hello, Mr. Juma,” Wes said, his voice cracking down into a pleasing baritone. “Let me help you with your bags.”
“I’ve got them.” My dad slid out of the car, stretching his neck. He intentionally busied himself with opening the trunk and hauling the bags inside.
Mel and I exchanged quick glances before she grabbed Wes into a hug. “Hello, tree,” Mel deflected from our father’s rudeness. “Have you been working out?”
Wes blushed, shaking his head. “Just some landscaping.” Wes had started to do the lawns for a few of our neighbours for extra cash since his mother had to take some time off work. The doctors called her symptoms fatigue, but Wes worried it was something more and threw himself into work to help.
His physical labour showed. There were impressions in his wiry forearms where muscle had fought its way through. My eyes felt compelled to trace every line. The view made my throat dry and I kind of wished he could go back into the computer screen where I wouldn’t be intimidated.
“I’ve been waiting for you guys to take the boat out. Wanna go?” Wes smiled broadly, and I grinned back.
“Hang on,” I said. “I’ll tell our parents.” Mel had taken to saying our parents were more lenient with me. But in my mind, Mel somehow got away with things that would be impossible for me. Coming home late from school, seeing R-rated movies and going out after being grounded.
When I peeked my head into the house, my parents were unpacking groceries. “We’re going to take the boat out.”
“Enjoy, beta,” my mom said, perched in front of the refrigerator loading in the curries, samosas, kebabs and marinated meat she’d prepped and frozen at home.
My father shook his head, handing my mother a bag of oranges to arrange on the fruit bowl on the counter. “Already running off and forgetting about your family?”
“Karim, leave her be,” my mother said. “Some sun, with adequate sunscreen, mind you, will be good for her.”
My father manoeuvred his rounded body around my mother, his face stern. “Just be sure to not waste too much time on the riff-raff here. You need to practise your public speaking. We don’t want a repeat of the last Model UN, mm? Especially with the debate team next year. That’s not how you get into law school.”
I paused, taking my father in. Unlike last year, there was a heavy set in his jaw and his jowls seemed tired. “Dad, I promise I’ll practise. It’s only a short break.”
Taking in my earnest look, and my mother’s exasperation, he relented.
Mel and I were in the pedal boat and Wes was in the kayak. I stayed quiet as Mel steered the conversation and Wes updated her on the past year. It was mostly things I already knew.
Even though I was excited for the summer, my mind kept looping back to the last Model UN showcase. The way my father’s face had fallen when it was clear I was no public speaker. The heat on my cheeks and the awful, tight feeling in my chest as the audience’s eyes bored into me.
“Earth to Lia,” Wes called, splashing me with an oar. “Where has your mind gone?”
“Oh, nothing, just thinking about school,” I said. I hadn’t told Wes yet about how badly I’d messed up Model UN.
“At least school’s out for now.” Wes’s voice was forcefully cheerful.
“What ended up happening with math?” I asked, looking at him from the side. The glint off the water reflected in his eyes.
His smile dropped. “I passed but barely. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with it next year. And we don’t have money for a tutor.”
“What about your dad?” Mel asked.
“We don’t talk much anymore.” His eyes clouded over. “If I don’t get my grades up, I’ll never get a scholarship and get out of here.”
“He should want to help. You’re his son.” The defence sprung from me automatically. I couldn’t imagine why his father wouldn’t do everything for his child.
Wes didn’t answer. He paddled forcefully, splashing himself and blinking hard. I looked away so he could gather himself, pretending to be engrossed in a gaggle of ducks. Maybe I had prodded at an unhealed wound.
Mel looked at me speculatively and then turned to Wes. “You guys could trade, you know.”
“What do you mean?” he asked her, wiping the water off his face.
“Lia is great at math,” Mel said. “All the Kumon my parents make us do.”
“Wes, I’m happy to help you. Seriously.” I tried to catch his eye but he paddled ahead of us so I could only see his profile.
“She’s great at everything,” Wes said, tilting his head down.
“No,” my sister said. “No one is great at everything. Lia is so freaked out about this public speaking thing that she’s been practising non-stop and I’m going to poke my eardrums out soon.”
“You said you didn’t mind.” I jabbed my sister with my elbow.
“I didn’t mind when I thought it was, like, now and then. Not incessant. At breakfast, when we’re in the car, before bed. In my nightmares.”
“Oh, okay.” I shrank.
“That’s not what I meant. I just meant that maybe this could be a good trade. Math for debate skills,” Mel backtracked. “Besides, I need to get volunteer hours this summer, so I’ll be busy at the library.”
“I don’t mind helping,” Wes said, letting Mel and me catch up to him.
“It’s a fair trade,” I said, wiping the sweat from the back of my neck. Part of me rejoiced at the idea. I would get to spend more time with Wes.
“We have a deal,” Wes said, paddling close enough to stick out his hand. I shook it and he gave mine a squeeze that I felt all the way to my chest. Things would be okay.
Two weeks later
After a morning of floating around until my voice was hoarse from practising debate, Wes and I steered the pedal boat towards Secret Island. We’d taken to stopping there for lunch. I’d brought sandwiches for us, as a thank you to Wes for listening to me for an entire morning. I was starting to recognize how tight the Forests’ household budget was, especially now that Ms. Forest was working part-time, and I was cognizant of the snacks I pilfered freely from their pantry. When I’d mentioned it to my mother, she’d handed me extra cookies and samosas to leave at their house, with the admonishment to “not tell my father.” It was his money, after all. Even if it was her labour that went into making them.
The clouds swooped in to cover us from the sun, and the breeze from the lake kept us cool. We’d brought over blankets and cushions on our various treks to the island and we set up our picnic on the grassy knoll, sun and fresh air coasting over our skin, our elbows and knees inches apart.
“I think we made good progress today,” Wes said around a mouthful of corned beef. He was always hungry at lunch, having built an appetite after waking up early to do the lawns so we could get out on the water by mid-morning.
“I hope it’s enough.” I frowned, curling my knees into my chest. Average wouldn’t be good enough. “My parents expect me to be the best on the team.”
“What’s the worst that can happen if you fail?” Wes asked, leaning forward, a sliver of sunlight streaking across his right cheek. “They’ll understand, they’ll love you anyway,” he reassured me.
Our gazes connected and I admitted, “Sometimes it feels like they won’t.”
“That’s impossible. You’re this amazing person.” Wes leaned in further towards me so that our elbows touched. I tilted my head towards him. The light danced off his eyelashes in long golden rays. The realization that he was beautiful in every way coursed through me. I leaned away under the pretense of taking a sip from my water bottle.
“So, am I becoming an excellent debater, or what?” I asked lightly. “What did you think of my argument that it should be harder to get a divorce because it encourages people to make hasty decisions?”
“It’s a good argument,” Wes said slowly, brushing crumbs off his tattered jean shorts. We both watched them fall into the strands of wild grass. “But you don’t really think that, right?”
I stared at him. My parents were strongly anti-divorce. They seemed to think that people here took relationships lightly. Sleeping with each other before marriage, getting married and divorced, same-sex relationships, interracial relationships. My mother and father would gossip about his co-workers with gleeful disregard at the dinner table, and I would watch my sister shrink as she gave up on trying to justify why some people might be different from our parents. I didn’t know how to change their minds, only how to distract them by bringing up school and our futures, topics sure to switch the subject.
“No,” I said finally. “I don’t agree with it but it’s a debate. You have to be able to argue both sides. It doesn’t mean I believe in everything I’m saying.”
Wes visibly relaxed. “My parents still haven’t managed to finalize their divorce. They can’t agree on anything and Mom can barely afford the lawyer. I wish it was easier.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked and then immediately backtracked. “Not that you have to tell me if you don’t want to—”
“The short story is that they got married when Mom found out she was having me and my dad felt trapped,” Wes said, eyes shadowed. “Mom and me were something he never wanted. He made it clear we don’t add value to his life.”
The words sparked electric anger. It was inconceivable that someone could make my best friend hurt like this.
“And he’s right,” Wes continued. “I fucked up at school and now everything is on the line.”
“You are my best friend, and the best person I know.” I propped myself up on my knees so I could look him eye to eye, clasping our hands in between us. “And you’re going to prove your dad wrong.”
Wes looked at where our fingers were intertwined and swallowed. I hated this, that someone who was meant to love Wes was tearing him apart. I recognized how lucky I was. Even if my parents pushed me, wanted more from me, they dreamed big for me. They thought the best of me.
We were quiet on the way back from Secret Island, but it was the kind of quiet that I relished, focusing on the feel of the waves against the boat, the air that tasted like freedom, and the steady way Wes steered us. Halfway home, Wes handed off the steering stick to me, and even though we initially went in a circle and almost got caught in the weeds around his dock, I managed to get us safely to shore.
After we shucked our life jackets off, I suggested we practice algebra.
The Forests’ house was empty when Wes opened the door. He pulled out his scuffed cellphone to scour his messages. “Looks like my mom’s working a late shift.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “Let me grab my textbook.” Wes gestured for me to follow him up the creaky wooden staircase.
I had seen the outside of his room a couple of times, but I was always conscious of Ms. Forest downstairs. Wes didn’t seem to register that I was entering his room , even though I was hyperaware of every detail as I stepped in. The lemon and pine scent I associated with Wes. The double bed with a navy coverlet tucked in the corner of the small room. The pair of socks hanging from the side of his hamper and the nightstand table stacked with books ranging from The Art of Travel to Ender’s Game and Dreaming of You , the latter tipped over on its front to save the page. The desk in the opposite corner of his bed with a beat-up laptop and a math textbook stacked on it, next to an expensive-looking watch box. Above it hung a bulletin board littered with to-do lists, pictures of international landmarks like the Eiffel Tower and the pyramids, along with photos of Wes with people I didn’t recognize.
“Hey,” I said, pointing to a photo of Wes standing in between a girl and boy around our age. She had green eyes and the flippy hairstyle that all the cool girls at school had, that my hair promptly rejected by exploding into a frizzy triangle. The guy next to her had the same colour eyes but a bigger smile. “Who are they?”
“Oh, that’s Andrea and Jake, they’re twins.” Wes put his hands in his pockets. “Andrea was the first friend I made here. Their mom works with mine at the grocery store.”
Of course he had other friends. Probably cooler ones. “They look fun,” I said weakly, trying to ignore the bitter taste coating my mouth. “Why aren’t you hanging with them this summer?”
“I see Jake at work; we do some of the yards together.” He shrugged, looking down. “I’d rather spend time with you during the summer. I’ll see them at school.”
Part of me triumphed that I won the summer, but the reminder that our friendship wasn’t part of our real lives stung. And the more I looked at the photo, the more possessive Andrea’s arm on Wes’s shoulder appeared. “Should we get back to math,” I mumbled, unable to pry my gaze from the photo. “That’s why I’m here, right?”
Wes took his hands out of his pockets, coming closer to me. His startling blue eyes were serious. “Sometimes I worry that you think people will only like you if you do something for them, but I’m friends with you because I like you.”
I bit my lower lip and said nothing. He’d hit the nail on the head. My parents and teachers liked that I did what I was told. My classmates appreciated me for my contributions to group projects. Their care felt conditional.
“You’re my best friend, Lia. I talk to you every day. Even more than my friends here.” His smile was especially bright against his summer tan, and his nose was covered in freckles from our long afternoons out on the boat. I loved those freckles. They were proof of the time we spent together.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat, backing away from him until I was by his bedside table. “You’re right.” I picked up the book he had propped open. “So, what are you reading?”
I turned the book to the page that Wes had saved when a vise grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand up above my head. “Hey,” I protested. “I just wanted to take a look.”
A creeping blush crawled over his neck and when I realized how little space there was between us, my cheeks heated. Wes still held my wrist, his face bent down close to me. “It’s embarrassing,” he said, snatching the book from me with his other hand only to pull it overhead and out of my reach. Something about his vulnerability gave me courage and, instead of pulling away, I stilled.
“Why?” I asked, laughing. I was suffused in his nearness, the warmth from his body, the way our breathing seemed to sync so that our chests ever so slightly brushed.
“It’s…uh, like a kissing scene.” He shook his head, ears blazing red.
“Oh, come on. Thanks to you, I’ve read tons of those scenes. Give it to me.” I jumped up, trying to snatch it from him. I stumbled as I leapt, falling flush against him. He dropped the book to the floor so he could curve his arm around my back to steady me. My hands fluttered to his shoulders as I braced myself on him, his fingers still locked on my wrist. His eyes drifted down to my face, to my chest against my clingy tank top, and he swallowed thickly. My pulse drummed in my neck, all my nerves overloaded by sensation.
I forgot that we weren’t supposed to be like this. He was everywhere, firm and warm in a way I’d never experienced before and instinctively I moved into him. My whole body tingled. He inhaled sharply. I turned crimson, realizing what I was pressed against.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling away, his grip on my wrist loosening. I bent, picking up the book and placing it on his nightstand. He was static, hands clenched as if to stop them from reaching.
I manoeuvred carefully so that I wouldn’t accidentally touch him as I moved to exit the room.
“You know what. I forgot that I’m supposed to help my mom with dinner,” I said, my peppy voice belied by my steaming red face.
“Lia,” he started, ears hot. “I’m sorry for—”
I raised my hand to stop him before he could apologize. “Don’t worry about it.” My laughter sounded fake even to my ears. “I’ve attended sex ed. I know it’s not about me; it’s just hormones and contact and whatever. It’s not like you’d ever think about me in that way. Anyway, I gotta go.” I raced out of his bedroom, almost tripping down the carpeted stairs.
“Hey,” he called behind me. “Can we talk?”
Shaking my head, I pulled open the front door. I didn’t want to talk about how he felt up against me, solid and good in a way that wouldn’t be right with a friend. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Wait—” Wes started, but I was already crossing the lawn.