Summer Doesn't Last Forever

by Magdalene G. Jones

  “All right,” I slowly stand.

  “Great,” he leads the way to the duck-taped squares.

  He picks up a ball and tosses it to me. I bounce it back to him.

  “How much do you remember?” He asks, catching it.

  “Umm,” I shrug. “Bits and pieces. If I’m honest, I’m just horrible at playing. My eyesight kinda throws off my depth perception.”

  “All right,” he passes it. “Practice.”

  We start slow. Several other kids try to join us, but Amias waves them away.

  “In a minute, guys,” he promises. “I’m getting you some new competition.”

  Two boys watch me and roll their eyes, stalking away. I nearly miss Amias’s pass.

  “Maybe this was a bad idea,” I mutter, bouncing the ball back with shaking hands.

  “Tarni, stop worrying. Are you having fun?”

  “ . . . yes.”

  “Don’t bother with how bad they think you are.”

  We keep passing, keep playing. My confidence grows, and I let Amias call people to join us. I move into the “knight” square and . . . I’m spiked out right away. I walk to the back of the queue with a fake sigh. Moments later, Amias joins me. I quirk an eyebrow.

  “Maybe I wasn’t the best person to teach you,” he messes with his hair. “I’m not that great.”

  I laugh, “Well, I think you were just right to teach me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “No one else could have taught me to have fun with this game.”

  We stare at each other for a moment. The line moves forward, and Amias nods to the court.

  “Get back in there. Pawn.”

  I laugh, taking the position, “Seeing as you aren’t even on the board yet, peasant, you shouldn’t talk!”

  “Oh, just you wait, Tarni Bird! You are going down!”

  :•─.•─:•─.•─:•☾☼☽•:─•.─•:─•.─•:

  I stand in the hot shower, letting the water stream over my head and turn my hair into a waterfall. I stare at my feet. Soap bubbles swirl around the drain. I wonder what bubbles would feel like if they were human-sized . . .

  A knock sounds at the bathroom door, “Tarni, hurry! We’ll be late for dinner!”

  “I’m coming, Genevieve!” I promise.

  I turn off the water and reach for my towel. How long have I been in here . . . ? I wrap my towel around me. Then put my hair in a second one. (Lifehack for girls with curly hair. Don’t rush the drying process.) I step back into my room. And freeze.

  Genevieve lounges—as per usual—on her bottom bunk, reading (also as per usual.)

  What isn’t usual is her fancy outfit. She wears a navy blue, knee-length dress. And an elegant braid holds her red hair. She’s pulled her fringe out of her face.

  Maya, on the other hand, sits at the vanity. She wears a bright red dress that belongs in a vintage film but matched with fluffy, blonde pigtails. She sits perfectly still as Abi—dressed in a classic black and pink polka dot dress—does her makeup.

  “Tarni!” Abi grins but doesn’t look up from her work. “Very good. I took the liberty of setting out your outfit on your bed. Go ahead and get dressed. Then I’ll help you with your hair and makeup.”

  “I’ll do hair,” Maya raises her hand, but otherwise doesn’t move.

  “Certainly, certainly.”

  I glance between my roommates, “What is going on? Is there a party I didn’t know about?”

  “Nope!” Genevieve stands up, brushing her dress flat. “You got ditched by a boy. Therefore, you must feel and look like the queen you are.”

  “Breakup 101,” Abi finishes Maya’s eyeshadow.

  “It wasn’t a breakup -,” I start.

  “We don’t care,” Maya peers at her reflection. “You feel depressed, your confidence levels are low, and that is unacceptable. We, as your girlfriends, have a right to fix that. So get your butt in that fancy dress, and let’s get you ready.”

  “Ready for what?” I laugh, picking my dark purple, high-low dress off my bed.

  “Pain. Because beauty is pain, and I have high heels for you,” Abi picks up the shoes and shoves them in my face.

  Thirty minutes transform me into a more elegant, sparkly version of myself. Abi does my makeup as Maya fusses my hair into half-up perfect curls. I force my tough feet into Abi’s creamy heels. And I stand before the mirror, ready for a girl’s personal war—proving herself to herself.

  We walk out of our bungalow and towards the dining hall, my stomach twisting with nervousness. I cling to Genevieve’s arm.

  “I feel stupid,” I mutter under my breath as we pass a group of fellow campers.

  “Wow,” one of the girls stares at us. “Where are you headed?”

  “Dinner!” Maya punches a fist in the air.

  Everyone laughs. Genevieve pats my hand.

  “Tarni, don’t bother with what they think. Are you having fun?”

  A strange sense of déjà vu comes over me. I nod and hold my head a little higher. We saunter (because sauntering is about the only thing you can do when you are fourteen, clumsy, and in heels) up to the dining hall. I clutch Genevieve’s arm tighter, nervous despite myself. Abi—in typical Abi fashion—half-skips up the steps.

  And, naturally, trips on the last one.

  Abi yelps, barely catching herself. She sits down hard. We laugh, following more carefully. Drew and one of his friends open the door. And freeze.

  “Wow,” Drew stares at Abi.

  He blinks several times; his mouth gaped slightly. He shakes himself and offers Abi a hand.

  “What angel did you steal this getup from?”

  “Did you just give me an angel compliment?” Abi takes his hand and stands, dusting herself off.

  “You’re right. That did sound pretty lame,” Drew chuckles and looks at the rest of us. “Where are you going?”

  “Dinner!” Maya cheers again.

  “Right on,” he whips out finger guns. “May I be the first to say you ladies look lovely tonight?”

  He bows but keeps gazing at Abi. Abi’s smile broadens. She curtsies, holding a hand over her heart.

  “I am so grateful you have sisters. You have so much more awareness than the average male.”

  Drew and his friend both laugh. Drew straightens.

  “Thank you, I quite agree,” he holds open the door.

  “Weren’t you going somewhere?” Maya glances between Drew and his friend.

  “Well, I just remembered that I didn’t have dessert,” he bows Abi through the door.

  Maya, Genevieve, and I exchange quirked eyebrows. Drew narrows his eyes.

  “Not a word,” he growls as we follow Abi.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I beam innocently.

  I get into the queue, ignoring the stares and whispers surrounding me. I look extra as all get out, but it is too much fun to care. And as long as I don’t spill anything on my nice dress, that will remain the case. With my plate and drink in hand, I walk over to our chosen table.

  “Hello, everyone!” I call.

  “Hey!” Several people wave.

  Amias grins and gestures for me to sit next to him, “Did Jeff fail to inform us about a party?”

  “No party,” I promise, sitting. “The girls just decided to be extra tonight.”

  “Ooo,” Abi turns away from Drew. “A party! We should have a party. I’ll ask Jeff.”

  She pats Drew’s arm, stands, and runs over to the leaders’ table. I chuckle.

  “Drew looks a little starstruck,” Amias whispers.

  “I can’t tell if Abi is oblivious or remarkably smooth,” I take a bite of my lasagne. “I am also bad at determining whether she’s blushing.”

  “It is a little more subtle,” Amias straightens again.

  I nod. And smile as Rachelle walks over—with Lena, of course. Rachelle purses her lips.

  “I am so mad that we didn’t think of this, Lena,” she gestures to my roommates and me. �
��Why didn’t we think of this?”

  “We aren’t as creative as we should be,” Lena fakes a sigh and winks. “You look great, Tarni! All of you girls do!”

  “Thank you,” I fuss with my skirt.

  Abi rushes back across the dining hall, “Jeff said yes! We can have a party in the lounge area!”

  “A party?” Lena perks up. “That’s it, Rachelle. We can’t be less impressive than the fourteen-year-olds.”

  Abi and I laugh.

  “Too bad your boyfriend isn’t here to see you all done up,” Rachelle smirks.

  Lena rolls her eyes and starts tugging Rachelle away. “Oh, come on. You must help me with my makeup.”

  “You know, it’s harder for me to do your makeup as I’m used to doing my own. And I have Asian eyeballs,” Rachelle warns.

  “Well, seeing that you are famous enough as a makeup artist to be on YouTube, I have faith in you.”

  “Lena, if you love me, you will never mention that atrocious video again.”

  Our table laughs again, and I shake my head.

  The news of the impromptu party spreads through the dining hall, and several others leave to get dressed up. I watch Abi brush her braids out of her face multiple times as she chats with Drew. Maybe she isn’t as composed as I thought . . . I squint at her dark face, searching for an extra glow.

  We finish dinner and march towards the main hotel building. Genevieve and Amias walk at my side, and we listen to laughter and chatter swell through the air.

  “Tarni!”

  I look up. Brynn and Kelly wave, hobbling over in silver and gold party looks. Their makeup sparkles in the fading sunlight. Brynn tosses her arm over my shoulders, freeing me from Genevieve.

  “You look so pretty!” She admires my dress. “This was a great idea.”

  “It was Abi’s, not mine,” I point over my shoulder.

  Brynn glances at Abi and her brother, talking near the back of our group. She smirks and gives me a wink. I smirk back.

  We walk into the lounge area, which is still relatively empty. Genevieve hurries over to the speaker setup with one of the leaders. After a moment, the “Pride and Prejudice” soundtrack fills the room.

  “Oh, heck no,” Brynn shakes her head and marches over to Genevieve.

  Amias follows her, and I laugh as the trio debates music selection. More kids filter into the room, staring awkwardly at the “dance floor” in the center of the room.

  A minute later, a folksy ballad with African drums fills the room. And the awkwardness flicks away. Several kids whoop. A pair jumps onto the dance floor, breaking into a dance so good I wonder if they practiced it. Drew licks his lips and glances at Abi.

  “Want to dance?” He tries to sound casual.

  Abi’s grin grows, and she tucks a pink braid behind her ear, “Sure.”

  They walk into the center of the room. Drew puts his arms around Abi, staring at her like there’s no one else there.

  Did Adam ever look at me like that? I lean against the wall, biting my lip. Did I ever look at him like that?

  No.

  I swallow but then smile at the crowd of attempting dancers. Kids with wandering and weary hearts. Just like me. Dancers whose feet have trodden through the dust of life, leaving blood in their footprints. And have healed, or haven’t, but find themselves here of all places. At a dance party in Marathon, Greece, with African drums thundering to the beat of their wild, wild hearts.

  So messy.

  So beautiful.

  And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  I tap my foot to the music, my smile growing brighter. Amias walks across the room and stands beside me.

  “I feel underdressed,” he gestures to his grey shirt and blue jeans.

  I laugh, “And I feel overdressed.”

  “Nah. You look . . . nice.”

  “Nice?”

  He nods, shifting his feet, “I mean . . . beautiful. You look beautiful.”

  Shyness floods my face, “Thank you.”

  We fall silent. I smooth the front of my dress.

  “Are you . . . ?” Amias clears his throat. “Are you planning to dance?”

  “Depends,” I glance at him. “Are you planning to ask me?”

  “You know, I’m considering it.”

  I chuckle.

  “Should I pretend to be asking you?” He walks over and takes my hand.

  I laugh again at the reference to the scavenger hunt, “Should I pretend to say, ‘yes’?”

  “Should I pretend to start dancing with you?” He slides his arm around my waist.

  “Should I pretend to find this charming?”

  “Yes, please.”

  We giggle like the kids we get to be and half-walk half-waltz over to the dancing crowd. Amias twirls me around, and I yelp in surprise. I squeeze his hand tighter, grinning at his grin.

  Oh yes. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.

  Chapter Seven: Fading Summer

  “Come on, Tarni,” Drew yells from the water below. “It’s not that bad. Eventually.”

  I glower at him, but I doubt he can tell. It’s Sunday, and the sun hangs low in the sky. Almost a week has passed since our impromptu dance party fun. Most of the kids whose parents are nearby—including Maya and Abi—have gone into Athens or other historical sites for the afternoon. Leaving our dwindled group to entertain ourselves.

  So, because my friends are sadistic idiots, they decided that jumping into the cold springs would be a great idea.

  “This is so dumb,” I mutter, shifting on the stone bridge above the freezing pool.

  The noise of the waterfall and the crowd of swimming, freezing kids fill my ears.

  “Don’t doubt yourself,” Genevieve calls from between chattering teeth. “Just jump!”

  “I hate heights!” I clench my fists.

  “It’s not bad,” Brynn waves my worries away.

  “It’s hitting the water that gets you,” Amias nods, hugging himself.

  I raise my eyebrows, “Not helping.”

  “My bad.”

  I stare at the water as if it will warm under the heat of my glare. I rub my feet on the rough stone bridge.

  “The water is only getting colder,” Drew outright lies.

  I shake my head and turn away.

  “Tarni,” Amias cups his hands around his mouth. “If you jump, I’ll get you coffee. Outside the resort.”

  That catches my interest. I face him, chewing my lip. The coffee at the resort was all right, but just that. And if anything can sway me, it is good coffee. I sigh, already regretting my decision.

  “Blackmailer,” I climb onto the edge of the bridge.

  “You know it!” Amias cheers.

  My heart quickens as I gaze at the water. I take one more breath, relishing the warmth on my skin. And leap forward. I wrap my arms around my knees, butterflies stirring through my stomach as I fall.

  Free.

  Then I hit the water.

  The butterflies freeze and die. Cold hits my skin like a brand. Its ice traces through my spine, aching through my brain. I shove off the bottom of the pool and break through the surface, gasping.

  “Oh. My. Gosh,” cold tries to seal my throat. “Cold.”

  “Yep,” Kelly floats on the top of the water.

  “Give it a minute. You’ll be all right,” Brynn promises.

  I eye her, shivering violently. Cold beyond numbness burns my brain.

  “It’s fun,” Genevieve swims over and wraps her arms around me.

  “I question your . . . sanity,” I grit my chattering teeth.

  “Be patient. The cold will fade.”

  “Hmm. Well, you’d better fulfill your bribe,” I point a trembling finger at Amias.

  “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?” He pouts.

  “The same kind of person who uses bribes.”

  “Fair point.”

  I chuckle, despite my freezing bones. I inhale deep gulps of air. Even my lungs feel
like they are icing over.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Drew scoffs.

  “Shut up, Andrew Harrison,” I shoot back.

  “Hey.”

  “So, Drew,” one of his friends swims over and puts his arm around Drew’s shoulder. “How about you and Abi, hmm?”

  “Oh yes,” I grin a little too widely. “Tell us all about Abi.”

  Drew groans and hides his face in his hands, “You are impossible.”

  “Payback,” I shrug.

  “Have you said anything?” One of the older girls with us asks.

  “No,” Brynn rolls her eyes.

  “Because he’s an idiot,” Kelly bats water at her brother.

  “She knows,” Drew splashes her back with a scowl.

  “Don’t count on that,” the older girl shakes her head. “Girls are horrible at measuring the depth of someone’s feelings for them.”

  “Why, though?” Drew leans against the bank.

  The girl nods her head from side to side, “There are a variety of reasons. Girls are told from young ages that it is an extraordinary thing to have feelings returned, while it is normal for boys. Then it is easy to play mind games with ourselves over whether we are reading signals or being self-obsessed. Then, of course, everyone regardless of gender can obsess over how worthy of care they are.”

  Amias pats Drew’s shoulder, “We all have insecurities. And in something as deep and powerful as romance, those insecurities feel even bigger.”

  “So, you should talk to her,” Genevieve taps her nose.

  “I’ll think about it,” Drew crosses his arms. “Why are we talking about this anyway?”

  “Because we’re cold. And you called me a baby,” I shiver even though my body has gone numb.

  “And we’re a bunch of bored, drama-loving high schoolers,” Drew’s friend gives him finger-guns.

  “Gee, love that,” he grumbles.

  “You asked,” Brynn winks.

  We keep swimming for several more minutes. But then the cold starts burning through our numbness. I bear it for a while longer, then clamber onto the bank. Amias, Drew, and Genevieve follow me.

  “Cowards!” Kelly yells after us.

  “Courage is not synonymous with intelligence,” I grin over my shoulder.

  “Ouch!”

  We laugh, stumbling over our numb limbs. We gather our towels and sit in the fading sunlight. I clutch my towel around me. Shivering.