Chapter August 1, 1993
I’m writing this in bed with the little reading light clipped onto my book because I don’t want to forget tonight, even though it probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to anyone else.
After dinner, Tessa and I went out back and sat on the steps, where the wood is still warm from the sun and you can hear the waves. The mosquitoes were bad, but Tessa didn’t even notice because I swear they don’t bite her.
Tessa had somehow turned an old shirt into something adorable by cutting off the sleeves and tying the bottom into a knot that made her waist look like a pencil. Even when her hair’s a mess from a day in the sun she somehow looks perfect.
She was acting weird, though. Not dramatic weird, just quieter than usual.
She kept playing with her hair and kicking her flipflops against the step.
I thought she was going to tell me she was mad at someone or that someone liked someone else or whatever little gossip we drum up after seeing kids our age at the beach all day.
Instead, she asked me if I thought it was a bad idea to sneak out later.
I honestly thought she was joking at first.
She said this guy she’s been hanging out with—Eric Something or Other—wants her to come meet him on the beach after everyone’s asleep. At MIDNIGHT. She said it like it was exciting, but I could also tell she was nervous about the whole thing.
I know, I know. Tessa Wylie asking ME for advice about a boy. What are the chances, right?
But she asked me what I would do, which almost made me laugh because when would I ever be in that particular situation? Pretty sure not a single boy noticed my existence today.
Anyway, I had to put myself in her shoes—well, flipflops—and imagine what I would do if I were gorgeous and made an old shirt look like the cover of “Seventeen” magazine.
I would want the kid to really like me, for one thing. So, I asked her if he was her boyfriend, or going to be.
She laughed and said no, not exactly. Eric told her he doesn’t want a girlfriend (he’s on vacation for a few weeks with his family) and just wants to have fun. He lives in…Texas, I think, so that’s a long way from Ithaca.
Anyway, she rolled her eyes like that was normal and said it didn’t mean anything, that’s just how boys are. Who cares what they call it?
I told her I wouldn’t sneak out for a boy who wouldn’t be my boyfriend. I said if Eric wants her to risk the wrath of Artie Wylie if she gets caught, then he should at least be willing to come to the door, meet her mom and dad, and take her on a proper date.
She snorted.
And I didn’t get that. She’s worth a date, right? I told her that and I thought she’d wave it off or get defensive or laugh at me and accuse me of being all “Little House on the Prairie” or something.
But she didn’t. She got really, really quiet for a long time. Then—I’m not lying—she put her arm around me and said, “Thanks, Viv. That actually makes sense.” She said she didn’t want to feel stupid about it later, and that kind of surprised me because Tessa usually acts like nothing bothers her.
After she went inside, I stayed out there by myself for a little while. I kept thinking about how weird it was that she asked me. I’m not the pretty one. I’m not the boy-crazy one. But tonight she wanted my opinion, and she listened to it.
It made me feel older somehow. Or maybe just more real. Like maybe I’m not always the side person in everyone else’s story.
I think I like giving advice. It feels good to feel needed. And I’m really, really glad Tessa stayed in the house tonight.
Sweet dreams!
Viv