About Last Summer

by Patricia B Tighe

Kenzie glanced over her shoulder. The others were still in the kitchen. “Alejandro’s fault, I assume?”

  “Yeah. He told me to micro-manage everything.”

  Kenzie lifted a spoonful of her cookies and cream. “Which you did incredibly well.” She slid the ice cream into her mouth and closed her eyes briefly. “That is so good. Sure you don’t want any?”

  “Nah. Still too jittery. I wish I could go jog around the house or something.”

  “You can if you want.”

  I smirked. “I don’t want to that badly.”

  Kenzie chuckled. “I know what you mean, though. After I’ve been in a performance, I can’t relax for hours. Guess it’s the adrenaline.”

  “Yeah, and wondering when it’s all gonna fall apart.” I lowered my voice even further. “Molly knows.”

  “What!”

  “Shh.”

  Kenzie looked over her shoulder again. No one had noticed her near-shout. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I couldn’t. After I talked to her, we went straight to dinner and then to the garage.”

  Kenzie jutted out her jaw in her normal “tell me” look. So I summarized my talk with Molly. “But she said she won’t tell anyone, unless they ask her, of course.”

  “Of course,” Kenzie said.

  “So I figured I’d keep being Gabriela.”

  “Good.” Kenzie’s spoon clinked against the side of her bowl as she scraped up the last bit of ice cream. “I’m so glad you’re not giving up. Looks like you’re in it to win it.”

  I laughed. “That’s really the stupidest expression.”

  Kenzie grinned, but then her forehead creased. “It is surprising that no one else has caught on,” she whispered. “You and the evil one have had a lot of whispered conversations.”

  “Are you calling yourself evil?”

  “Ha, ha. You should probably try to stay away from him. Because if no one else, Amanda is sure to get suspicious.”

  “You’re right. I’ll try, but sometimes it feels like he’s everywhere at once.”

  Kenzie set her empty bowl on the coffee table. “Okay. I’ll try to help more. It’s just that this stupid play is so distracting.”

  “I know.”

  The group from the kitchen wandered into the living room, laughing at something Geoff had just said. Noah wasn’t with them. A sense of relief flooded me. I could enjoy a little time without being on my guard.

  It became impossible to sit anymore. I wandered over to the living room window and stared out at the rectangular patch of light on the dark lawn. I’d played Uno with the group and then watched as Kenzie, Molly, and Geoff played Ticket to Ride with his parents. Amanda and Haley had been gone for over an hour, and there was still no sign of Noah. I chewed on my lip.

  Where was he? And why in the world did I care? Well, the first question was easy enough to answer. If I knew where he was, I would know when he planned to blow up the ground beneath me.

  The voices of the game players became a low hum as I played the second question over and over in my mind. Did I care? Should I care? Noah had been making me do stupid stuff in an effort to embarrass me, which made me want to put him in a chokehold. Right. So much for thinking I should apologize to him.

  But for a couple of moments in the storage closet earlier that day, it had been like no time had passed at all. Not so much that we were in love again, but that we were friends. Friends who could joke around without strange expectations getting in the way. But then he’d accused me of having tons of boyfriends, and it fell apart.

  I was just so tired of it all. And I couldn’t see any way to get rid of the weirdness between Noah and me—except by maybe talking it out. But I wasn’t sure I was ready to be yelled at. And he was clearly still angry—the micro-managing order was proof of that.

  I turned my back to the window. So ridiculous. We should just talk about what happened last summer. Maybe then he’d let go of his anger, and we could go on as friends. Well, probably not friends. But, at least, not enemies.

  Where was he anyway? I rubbed my forehead. And where were Amanda and Haley?

  “Do you have a headache, dear?” Gamma asked from her chair nearby.

  I practically launched myself backward through the window. Why didn’t I ever realize when the old lady was around? I forced a smile. “No, I am fine.” Lighten up on the accent a bit.

  “Are you sure? You were frowning.”

  “Just a little tired,” I said, looking back at the group bent over the board game. Gamma’s gaze bore into the side of my face. But there was no way I was meeting that gaze. The woman could see way too much.

  “He’ll come around,” Gamma said.

  I gripped the windowsill for support. “Pardon?”

  “Noah. That’s who you were thinking about, wasn’t it?”

  Seriously? Gamma had figured it out too? I stared at the woman’s sweet, lined face, and wished I had stayed over by the game players. The situation was getting crazy. Like Noah and I had suddenly become everybody’s favorite reality TV show. “Uh—”

  “Gamma?” Geoff asked, without looking away from the cards in his hand. “Did I hear you say ‘Noah’?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you seen him?” he asked.

  “Yes, a while ago, though. He went out the back door, carrying his guitar.”

  Geoff grunted. “He probably won’t be back for a while then.”

  True. When he played guitar, Noah traveled to another world. I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed away from the window. “Excuse me,” I said to no one in particular and left the room. I eased out the front door and dropped into one of the huge wooden rocking chairs that lined the porch. The sounds of a faraway guitar floated through the air like a feather that refused to land.

  I exhaled, relaxing into the sound, wishing I was sitting across a campfire from him, watching his fingers dance across the strings. A sudden pain left me pressing a hand to my chest.

  The realization of how much I’d missed his music, missed him, left me almost gasping for air. Why here? Why now? I massaged my breastbone with the heel of my hand, trying to rub the ache into nonexistence. Nothing could change between us. I’d made my decision last summer. It wouldn’t be fair to act like we could start over.

  I set the rocking chair into motion. Forget all of that. Just listen to the music. I let the strumming sound wash over me for several minutes until my pulse returned to normal. Then the sound dipped too low for me to hear. I leaned forward, straining with everything I had, but it was no good. A few notes rose up to tease me, then dropped away again.

  I was being stupid. It was just Noah playing guitar. And I wanted to hear it better. There was no special meaning behind it. None. I rose, jogged down the steps, and headed around the side of the house.

  Noah

  The back door closed with a thump behind Amanda and Haley. A huge exhale puffed out my cheeks. Finally. They’d been sitting there for more than half an hour—talking, laughing, and trying to rope me into conversation. I mostly nodded to whatever they said while trying to focus on my guitar. Why else would I have come out here alone? They were just too young to get it. Or didn’t want to.

  A light breeze glided across my skin. I set the guitar on my lap and stretched my arms, releasing the tension in my shoulders. Maybe I could start again. Find that place in the music where nothing could penetrate. No noise, no body aches, no emotions. Just the music, getting lost in the music.

  I straightened the guitar and let my fingers pick out a couple of scales. Always best to go back to the beginning. It cleared my mind like nothing else could. I fiddled with the notes of one of those Celtic tunes my parents liked, then let myself go. I strummed the raucous melody hard and loud, but even as I played, something nagged at the edge of the music. Some inclination, some—what?—desire, need, made it hard to lose myself in the song.

  I broke off abruptly, shutting off the sound with my hand against the strings. I stuck the pick between my teeth
. Maybe I should just play whatever song wanted to be played. I let my fingers rove over the strings, not thinking, just playing. And then my chest grew hot and too full as though there were something trying to get out. I inhaled a shuddering breath. What the hell was that?

  And all at once I knew.

  I’d been playing Gabby’s Song.

  The one I wrote for her last summer. The one that had surged out from somewhere deep inside, making it the easiest melody I’d ever written. I swore, and the pick flew out of my mouth, disappearing off the side of the deck.

  Great, just great. I stood, planning to go find it, then changed my mind. Nope. Too dark. Maybe I should quit playing for tonight anyway. It wasn’t distracting enough. Instead, it was like my whole being was plotting against me. Making me think about Gabby even though I didn’t want to.

  I sat back on the edge of the chair. But where could I go? I didn’t feel like stumbling around in the dark. I definitely didn’t want to play games with everybody else. And sitting around in the bedroom would probably make it all worse.

  No. I’d stay out here and try again to let the music in.

  I stretched one leg out and dug around in my pocket for another pick. Nothing. I did the same with the other pocket. There was something … yes! I pulled out a lint-covered pick and blew on it. Not my favorite—too thick—but whatever. It was here.

  I was three measures into a different Celtic song when a sound broke my concentration. A footstep? Probably not. I frowned and kept playing. But somehow, the shades of darkness shifted. I squinted. Someone stood on the blacktop where we shot baskets, half hidden by the side of the deck.

  My heart rate picked up. There was only one person it could be. The others were inside, and Amanda didn’t go anywhere without Haley. I kept playing, just more quietly. “You can come out,” I said. “I know you’re there.”

  Gabby’s voice came from the blackness. “How?”

  I waited until she reached the bottom of the steps. “A shadow moved or something.”

  “Oh.” She stepped up and sat on the stair just below the deck’s floor. “That sounds familiar.”

  Crap. I’d been playing her song again. I purposely plucked the wrong string, the flat note twanging out like a slap. “Haven’t played it in a while.” Idiot, idiot. You played it a few minutes ago. If she was outside, she heard it.

  She leaned back on her elbows and faced the backyard. “It’s still good.”

  I could’ve switched songs. I so wanted to. But a perverse need to show her just how great the song could be filled me with determination. So I let myself fall completely into the music, each note ringing out with precision and aching sweetness.

  Finally, when my chest was so tight I could barely breathe, I stopped. My body still rocked uncontrollably forward and back, the last notes reverberating into the night.

  She said nothing. Just sat there as if she deserved the whole performance.

  And I was caught. I wanted to jump up and go inside. But I also wanted to lean toward her. Remember how much you liked that last summer? Do you still? I had to be the biggest fool between here and whatever the hell river ran through Texas.

  She sighed, and it broke through the Gabby-cloud in my mind. “What’re you doing out here, Gabby?”

  She looked over her shoulder at me, but I couldn’t see her face in the darkness. Just her soft voice floated out. “Why didn’t you play games with everybody?”

  I picked idly at the guitar strings. “I’m tired of games. Especially ones I can’t win.”

  “You should’ve come. It was fun.”

  Yeah, fun. Would’ve been real fun to watch her talk like Gabriela, listen to her laugh, and stare when she smiled. Before I could stop myself, I began my “pit” song, the angry one that had made me stay in the pit and then helped me climb out of it. Strange how it had done both.

  The song rang out, sometimes loud, sometimes whisper-quiet, but always sad. There was nothing I could do. At that moment, I had to play it. And so it went. The ups, the downs, the pain. All of it carrying through the air like a message being delivered. Just as I finished, a breeze swept through the trees in the distance, sounding like hissing applause.

  “That was beautiful,” Gabby said. “What’s it called?”

  Cuts and Gouges. “Doesn’t really have a name yet.”

  “It’s haunting. Like it grabs hold and doesn’t let go.”

  I plucked random notes again, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

  “When did you write it?” she asked.

  “Not sure. Last September, I think.”

  “Is it about—”

  “Why’d you come out here?” I pressed the strings flat against the guitar.

  “Just wanted to.” She looked away, and almost a minute passed before she spoke again. “I’m sorry you hate me.”

  Warmth raced into my chest, but I shoved it away. She wasn’t sorry for dumping me, just my response to it. Did I hate her? No. Not if I was honest with himself. I really, really wanted to. I just couldn’t. “I don’t hate you,” I whispered.

  “But you want to hurt me.”

  “Not working though, is it?”

  She twisted until she faced me, her knees tucked up against her chest. “What do you mean?”

  “You always come out okay. No matter what I do.”

  “Not true.”

  “Guess we’ll just have to disagree about that one.”

  She shook her head. “Can’t we just get along, Noah? We’re only here for a few more days.”

  “Sorry. I’m not as good an actor as you are.”

  “Being nice to each other doesn’t have to be an act.”

  What? “This entire week is an act. Do you even listen to the things you say?”

  She shot to her feet. “Do you?”

  Good. I’d ticked her off. Way better than her pretending to be nice. I launched into the loudest strumming I’d ever done. Obnoxious, but who cared?

  Gabby stamped down the steps and, with her hands over her ears, faced me. I could just make out her lips moving, but of course, couldn’t hear a word.

  I stopped playing. “What?”

  “That’s infantile.”

  “Glad you liked it.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Her voice broke, and she stared off into the darkness.

  A twinge of regret stung me. I almost ran down the steps to pull her into my arms. But she straightened, putting her hands on her hips. There it was again. That ability to change emotions in a blink. All signs of a great actress. And I needed to remember that I couldn’t trust anything she said or did.

  “Really?” I asked. “My bad.” In a rote motion, I threaded my pick into the strings at the guitar’s neck. I stood slowly. “I guess that’s because I never know what you mean. I don’t know who you are anymore … if I ever did.” I headed for the back door, but as my fingers closed on the handle, I turned back. “And I don’t think you know either.”

  Gabby

  I stormed off toward the trees. What was that supposed to mean? I knew who I was. He was the one who was hard to read. Like when we were looking for costumes in the storage closet. One minute he was fun, nice, like we were good friends. Then, the next he was so angry he looked like he wanted to shake me.

  Why did people have to be so stupid?

  Why did he have to be so stupid? I had even apologized. Apologized! And that was his response? That he didn’t know who I was? I reached the edge of the yard and stopped. Heading into the forest alone at night was an invitation to dinner for zombies and serial killers. Not to mention animals.

  I walked along the edge of the lawn, my quick steps disturbing the quiet of the night. When I reached the end of the grass, I turned right and followed the line of the yard toward the house, and then continued all the way around until I was back at the trees. I paused, listening. A rustling came from the forest, so I headed for the house, slower this time.

  All I wanted was to get through this week without
giving up on the challenge. But maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should just forget it. Change my plane reservation and fly home. Yeah, right. Wouldn’t my parents just love that? Kenzie wouldn’t be too pleased either.

  But, so what? The outcome of the week was pretty inevitable. I would fail. I wouldn’t be able to keep up the Gabriela persona. More people would find out. Everybody would know. And I’d have to face them. Have to explain. Well, maybe Kenzie would help with that. But still. Who wants to tell a bunch of basic strangers that you’d just spent the week lying to them?

  I shivered and walked to the back steps. I sat and hugged my knees to my chest. Maybe Kenzie was right. I just quit things. It was the way I was. Whenever stuff got too hard or too scary, I figured it was time to cut my losses and get out. Better for everybody that way. Safer. Then no one could judge me one way or the other.

  An ache grew inside me, welling up until it sat heavy in my throat. I slid my hands into my hair. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted this Gabriela thing to work. It was why I’d asked Kenzie to give me a challenge. I wanted to prove I wasn’t a quitter. That I could see something through to the end. No matter what.

  So, I had a choice. Tell everybody the truth or continue with the lie.

  And what about Noah? If I kept being Gabriela, would our shared past end up ruining it? Probably. From the way he was acting and from what Molly said about his year, I had obviously hurt him more than I realized. Which was really crazy. How could a guy like him be so hurt over someone like me? He must have girls after him all the time. It just didn’t make any sense.

  So back to my choice.

  Would it be easier to quit? Definitely. Did I want to? No.

  I stood and walked a few paces into the yard. The cloudless sky swirled with stars, making it seem like anything was possible. I laughed out loud. Who did I think I was, Jiminy Cricket?

  Maybe not, but a wish couldn’t hurt. I stared at that blanket of stars and chose the brightest one winking down at me. “I wish I were stronger,” I whispered, “so I could make it through the week and finish Kenzie’s challenge. I wish I could figure out how to make Noah feel better, to show him how sorry I am.”