I climb up the tree, careful to skip the most rotted steps. Her dad already replaced the ones that ripped off after I fell, but I don’t trust the rest of them. If I learned anything today, it’s that even things that look great on the outside can be total crap underneath.
Seeley’s window is closed when I get to it, the airconditioning probably making the place subarctic as usual, but I can still see her through the curtains. I crouch down to get a better view, watching her sketch away in her pad. Her dark hair is pulled away from her face with four brightly colored clips, and she’s in her favorite gray tank top and kitten pajama pants.
She looks up at me and smiles the kind of smile that you could just fall into forever and still never get sick of. I take a breath and smile back, sliding the window open and crawling inside. My foot gets a little tripped up on the sill, and I land on the floor with a less than graceful thump.
“Hi, Elouise,” Seeley’s dad calls from the other side of the closed door, and I laugh as I dust myself off before going to join Seeley on the bed.
She pulls out one of her earbuds and hands it to me. I pop it in, stretching out next to her and resting my head on my arms. It’s a song I’ve never heard before, quiet and slow; a sad man singing a sad song to the whine of his guitar. She’s drawing her two favorite superheroes kissing, and watching it all come together with this man crooning in my ear feels kind of . . . perfect.
I scoot a little closer, loving the way her arm brushes against mine as she sketches, so warm and alive, and I imagine her creativity sparking through her veins like magic. I don’t know what I did to deserve her.
Seeley finishes up, dropping her pen onto the pad and pinning it between the two covers. Her laugh comes out like a quiet huff. “What are you staring at?”
“You,” I answer honestly. I roll to my back, which pulls the cord of her headphones tight against my face. Awesome.
She smiles again and pulls it out of my ear, taking hers out too and tossing them up on her nightstand. “How was work?”
“Hot,” I say.
“How was your thing with Jessa?”
“Strange.” I bite the inside of my cheek, deciding how much to divulge. “Honestly, it was kind of a disaster. One second she was promising me all the free fries I could eat, the next she was accusing me of faking being your girlfriend, and then she was back to begging me not to tell anybody what I saw.” I tip my head to see Seeley better. “Did you know her mom used to be a waitress?”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, I didn’t either. Bananas, right? I can’t picture Mrs. Holier-Than-Thou walking into Dylan’s Diner, let alone working in it.”
“No, back up. Jessa said she knows we’re faking?”
“Not really knows, more like suspects.”
“Shit, this isn’t good.” Seeley starts messing with the clips in her hair, like she does whenever she gets really worked up.
I watch her for a second, narrowing my eyes. “Why are you freaking out?”
“This is bad. If she tells Nick we’re faking and he believes her, it’ll blow any shot you have with him.”
“I actually still kind of feel weird about the plan anyway.” I flip onto my stomach and prop myself up on my elbows. “But we shouldn’t be worrying about this tonight, tomorrow is your—”
“I don’t want to talk about my grandma.” She huffs. “What do you mean you still feel weird? This isn’t more woe is me stuff, is it?”
I sigh. “It feels like I’m being all manipulative and sketch.”
Seeley laughs. “That’s because you literally are being all manipulative and sketch.”
“What should I do?”
“We have to break up, I guess.” She grabs her sketchbook again and starts frantically drawing another figure. I can’t tell yet what it is, but I can tell by the way her pencil digs into the paper she’s upset.
“We don’t have to,” I say.
Her head snaps up. “What do you mean?”
I can’t really place the look on her face, but it makes my brain feel kind of itchy and warm. “I don’t know. I think breaking up right now is a bit of an overreaction. I don’t think we need to, yet. Let’s stick a pin in it and see what happens.”
Seeley goes back to sketching, creases forming on her forehead. “Stick a pin in it?”
“Yeah, I mean we have your grandma’s thing tomorrow, and then we have the fireworks and the bake sale all coming up. I think we should take a minute and think about how everything should play out, you know?”
“Okay.” Her hand freezes for a second, and then goes back to shading the curve of what I think is going to be a flying shield. “I mean, if that’s what you want.”
“Cool,” I say, flipping around so my head is on a pillow. I pull out my phone and check on our fund-raiser. “Hey, look, we’ve been shared sixteen times and got some new donations.”
“What are we up to now?”
“Eighty-seven dollars.”
“Great, only one million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and thirteen dollars to go.” She sighs and sets down her drawing, crawling up the bed to lay beside me. She reaches over and flicks off the light. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day. We should get some sleep.”
I don’t say anything, but I can feel her still looking at me. I move closer again, making our arms touch.
“Good night,” she says. Her voice pitches up at the end like it’s a question.
I feel like I should say something deep here, something important and relevant that will carry us through all the weirdness of tomorrow, but when I open my mouth, all that comes out is: “Night.”
CHAPTER 28
Funerals are weird.
First there was the viewing, and what a mind trip that was. Everything smelled strange and a little off, and you have to stand really still while people walk up to you, pretending like they know you. Everyone, and I mean everyone, tries to hug you. I think half the time the hugger was mixing me up with Seeley, and the rest of the time I guess they didn’t care. I went along with it either way, because it seemed like the right thing to do. Eventually my dad showed up, and it was such a relief to see him that I pretty much collapsed into him.
Next came the service. I sat with Seeley and her family on one side, and my dad on the other. I tried to remember all the appropriate times to say “and also with you” and stuff like that, and when to kneel and when to stand, and half the time I got it wrong. And Seeley was right next to me, but she might as well have been a million miles away.
After that was the gathering. This basically meant that everyone went back to Seeley’s house and ate sandwiches. When they left, Seeley’s mom did the dishes alone, even though I offered to help.
I heard her crying twice.
So that’s what funerals are like. They hurt.
I used to sometimes think it would be better if my mom was dead, like if she’d been taken away from us instead of leaving by her own choice. But no, I was wrong. After today, I know I was wrong. Leaving is better. Leaving is definitely better.
Which is exactly why I’m sobbing into a pile of postcards when my dad comes upstairs to tuck me in. He scoops me up and carries me into bed, like he did when I was little, and I watch him clean up the mess through heavy-lidded eyes. He shoves one into his pocket as he heads out the door, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. The tears come again, but this time, I’m careful and I’m quiet and I don’t bother anybody.
CHAPTER 29
“Tonight’s gonna be the best.” I’m standing beside the carousel, waiting for Seeley to finish cleaning up her station so we can leave.
She shakes her head as she wipes off the last of the horses. “I don’t know why you’re getting all excited about a few fireworks and a bunch of fair food that you can literally eat here every day.”
I widen my
eyes in mock horror. “Don’t you dare trash-talk the fireworks at the commons!”
“Who’s going tonight anyway?” Her eyes flick back over to the diving area, where Nick is practicing flips on the trampoline. “Just us?”
“Has it ever been just us at the fireworks?”
Seeley rolls her eyes. “Okay, who, then?”
“Everybody, pretty much. Us, Nick, Jessa unfortunately, probably Seb, maybe Craig, Marcus, some girl from housekeeping, and I don’t know, like the whole town. Are you new here, See? Everybody goes to Founder’s Day fireworks.”
It’s true, they do. It’s our only chance to see fireworks without having to watch them on TV or drive forty-five minutes. See, our town is way too cheap to put on a full Fourth of July fireworks display, especially not one that rivals other towns, so we just let them all have it and combine ours with Founder’s Day the weekend before. I mean, nobody truly expects an epic fireworks display in June, right? We’re all just willing to take whatever we can get, which more often than not is about two dozen fireworks, fired off one at a time, several minutes apart, from Mr. McClellan’s field.
It never occurred to me that it was weird until last year, when Nick was still new and couldn’t believe he had moved to a town that didn’t put on their fireworks show on the actual holiday. He even made a shirt that said “The Fourth of July is THE FOURTH OF JULY” and wore it in protest.
But, judging by how many times he asked what the plans were for tonight, I think he’s ready to fully embrace the practice this year.
Seeley groans, tossing the rag over her shoulder. “I just don’t feel like dealing with a ton of people.”
“We need this, Seeley,” I whine. “You need this. Trust me, you’ll have a good time. I’ll make sure of it.”
She sizes me up for a second and then rolls her eyes. “Fine, but you’re buying the snacks.”
“Deal.”
* * *
• • •
The grass itches and tickles my feet where they hang over the edge of our too-small blanket. I try to keep them still anyway, focusing instead on the sight of Seeley pulling cotton candy by the handful out of a sticky plastic bag. I had meant to bring paper to make a petition for the park, but I forgot. Seeley says her sketchpad is way too expensive to use, so at this point, we’ve sort of all just resigned ourselves to eating junk food and people-watching. There are worse things, I guess.
Nick and Jessa showed up a half an hour or so ago, and now we’re all kind of huddled together on a pile of overlapping blankets, Nick looking relaxed and happy, and Jessa coiled tighter than a rattlesnake. She’s being extra nice to me tonight too, which makes me feel all weird and twisty inside.
Seb and Marcus only showed up long enough to drop off their gear, and then took off to find this new girl they met at the park today. I’m tentatively planning to resent them forever for abandoning me in this cesspool of awkwardness, but we’ll see how the night goes.
Seeley grabs another chunk of pink fluff and tries to throw it in my direction, but Nick snatches it from the air and makes a big show of eating it. I grin and nudge him with my foot before rolling onto my back to stare at the darkening sky. It’s barely dusk, so we have a bit before the fireworks start.
“It’s gonna be really weird to not have the park next year,” Nick says, because of course he can’t just let us stew in this totally uncomfortable silence without putting in his two cents. “Who knows where we’ll end up or what’s gonna happen.”
I sit up, frowning as I look at him. “Next summer is going to be miserable, probably, if we don’t do something about it. People aren’t even sharing my posts about the GoFundMe anymore. It’s like they don’t even care! Literally everything I read about making your page go viral says that it has to be successful in your own community first.” I tilt my head back and glare at the sky. “Our community sucks.”
Seeley bumps her shoulder against mine. “You promised me a good time, remember? No whining.” Seeley tugs her backpack onto the blanket beside us and pulls out two bottles of what appears to be very flat Sprite. “And speaking of a good time . . . ”
“Warm soda?” I arch my eyebrows. “Wow, you’re really living on the edge.”
“Ha, drink up.” She twists the cap off hers and takes a swig, coughing a little as she swallows.
I grumble and follow suit, doing my best not to choke as the bitter taste of soda mixed with alcohol scorches its way into my belly. “Holy crap.” I cough. “What is this?”
“Sprite.” She smirks, and I raise my eyebrows. “Plus a healthy serving of vodka.”
Nick chuckles and scoots up on his elbows. “Hey, share some with the rest of the class.”
“You are such a dork,” I say, but then he blushes, so I reach over and mess up his hair. Jessa frowns so hard I can feel it in my bones. Too bad, Jessa, you brought this on yourself. Sort of. I guess. I don’t know.
Seeley nudges the bottle back to my lips. “Drink up, girlie.”
“I have to drive later,” I say. “I shouldn’t.” I don’t even know why I’m fighting it. It’s not like I’ve never had a drink before. Well, okay, only once and just beer, but still. It counts, right?
Seeley tugs on the various necklaces that dot her neckline, running one of the charms up and down the chain. “We can walk this whole town in thirty minutes, Elouise. We’ll leave your car here if we have to, and you can crash at my place.”
I snort. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk.”
Seeley frowns and starts picking at a dandelion beside us. “I just need to not think tonight, okay? I need a night of . . . nothing.”
I scrunch my forehead. “Seeley—” But she just sighs and takes another sip.
Nick takes the bottle from my hand and raises it for a toast. “To friends, fake Fourths, and feeling nothing.” He leans forward to tap it against Seeley’s, and everybody laughs except Jessa.
Nick offers her the bottle, but she shakes her head, so he passes it back to Seeley. I intercept it, curious to taste the plastic his lips just touched. It doesn’t taste like anything, just regular old plastic and a little bit of booze. I sputter as the liquid slides up my nose, sending a bolt of pain shooting through my head. Alcohol plus nostrils does not equal a good time. “You win, vodka.” I cough again. “You win.”
“Lightweight.” Nick laughs, and then Jessa smacks him on the bicep. I stare a beat too long at the rising red mark on his arm, and then I turn toward Seeley and take another swig. She’s lying on the blanket with her arms raised over her head, like she’s adrift on a little fleece raft in an ocean of grass. She looks at me and rolls her neck from side to side, smiling when there’s an audible pop.
“That cannot be healthy,” I say, feeling a little warm, a little tingly as the alcohol soaks into my bloodstream.
“You know what’s not healthy?” She opens one eye and snatches the bottle from my hand. “How slowly you’re drinking that.”
I giggle, an actual honest-to-god giggle, and drop onto the blanket beside her. We’re close enough that I can feel her body heat, warm and damp on this, the hottest of nights. I flick my eyes to the spot on her shoulder where her freckles match the constellations in the sky, and I smile. I get lost in her skin, sipping my drink and mapping the stars on her arm while everyone else talks and eats and laughs around me. I roll to my back and stare up at the sky. I count three shooting stars, but Seeley insists one of them was a plane.
She smells so good up close, like flowers and sunblock, and I realize that, if I stuck my tongue out right now, I could probably taste her perfume . . .
Which, okay, wow, that’s a weird thought. How drunk am I? I lift the bottle, my eyes widening to find it significantly emptier than when it was handed to me.
I jolt up, staring into the lights of the food truck barely fifty yards in front of me.
>
Nick says something to me that sounds a little bit like “Welcome back,” but I can’t be sure because everything’s gone a little fuzzy, a little spinny now. This is not great. Pull it together, Lou. Focus.
There’s grease and sugar and fried dough all around me, the unmistakable scent of small town summer. I breathe deep and try to forget about any other smells that I might be smelling, like my best friend’s skin or Nick’s deodorant or Jessa’s scowling face. Wait, you can’t smell a face. You know what I mean. God, I hate vodka. I’m never doing this again.
“Are you gonna puke?” Nick asks, scooting back away from me.
“She’s not going to puke.” Seeley props herself up on her elbows, concern etching lines into her forehead. “Are you?”
I shake my head, but that makes my stomach flip. “Stop talking about puking.”
Seeley sits up, leaning forward to take a good look at me. “You need to eat something.”
“I like popcorn,” I say, because my brain is hazy now and also because it’s true. I scrunch up my face and drop back to the blanket. “Oh my god, I don’t like this anymore. Someone invent a time machine. I need to go back and stop old me from opening the bottle.”
“You’re an adorable drunk, Elouise,” Nick says, leaning his face over mine. “Do you want me to get you popcorn?”
“No, you are the adorable one,” I mumble, and then, because I want to be sure to hate myself in the morning, I stick out my finger and boop him on the nose. Like, I literally even say “Boop.” Somewhere, in the tiny last sober corner of my brain, my dignity is screaming.
Nick crinkles his forehead, and a little bit of hair slips into his face, which, being the Good Samaritan that I am, I reach up to push back. Nick looks surprised, and Seeley sort of gasps, and then I shut my eyes, all smirky and snuggly feeling.
“What the hell, Elouise,” Jessa shouts. And oh, I forgot she was still there.
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