The Summer of Impossibilities

by Rachael Allen

  “Want a sandwich? Yes, I’m starving.” I grab a plate and take a ludicrously big bite so I don’t have to answer any questions.

  After I leave Heidi’s, I go to the carriage house, and then it’s shower/dinner/SBDC. We don’t have a full-on meeting, we just play cards for a little bit while we wait for it to be optimal Sneak Out to Parties time. Which is good, because I’m not really ready to tell everyone how badly things are going on the youth minister front. Just being with the three of them makes me feel better though. More hopeful. I’m meeting a girl tonight, I tell myself. Zoe, her name is Zoe, and it’s going to be awesome. All I have to do is survive this card game and then sneak out of the house and steal a boat. What could possibly go wrong?

  Skyler

  I still haven’t talked to my mom, yet. I know. I know. I was totally going to and I had all the research done and everything, but it feels like it’s always the wrong time. Like things are so fragile, and I’ll be the one to send the house of cards crashing down.

  But then I saw her smiling after dinner, and it was definitely one of her real smiles, not one of her putting-on-a-brave-face smiles, and I feel like tonight is the night. Plus, I’m going to see that boy at the party tonight, and I want to be able to tell him, hey, I’m working on doing a thing that’s just for me, and I have something to look forward to now, and by something to look forward to, I definitely mean softball, not you.

  I dance into the kitchen, where Scarlett is telling Mama that we’re all pretty beat so we’re going to turn in early. Perfect! Scarlett knows I want to play softball again, and she can back me up if I need help.

  “Hey, Mama, I need to tell you something!” I say brightly. I’m totally nervous, but whatever, “Fake it till you make it” is a thing.

  “Oh, good! You’re both here,” Mama says, setting down a wine opener. “I need to tell you something too.”

  Um, well, okay. I was hoping to get it out fast like ripping off a Band-Aid, but she seems like she’s in a really good mood, which can only help my situation.

  “What is it?” asks Scarlett. Skeptical. Always skeptical.

  “Your dad and I have been talking, and he’s going to come out tomorrow evening, and we’re going to go to dinner and talk.”

  She’s smiling so brightly, and her eyes shine like glass. Maybe that’s why she can’t seem to see the face my sister is making.

  “A date,” Scarlett says. “You are going on a date with the man who cheated on you and destroyed this family.”

  Mama’s shine shatters. “Scarlett—”

  “No. You know what? I have tried to be supportive, and I have tried to keep it together, but if you’re hell-bent on fucking up all of our lives, I can’t do this.”

  “Scarlett Elaine Kaplan-Gable.”

  “You can quadruple name me all you want—”

  “Have a little respect—”

  “Not for him!”

  “He says he’s sorry. He’d do anything to make it right.”

  “I literally can’t even with you!”

  I get upset when people yell at each other. Always have. I get upset when I’m trying to say something important and nobody listens. I get upset about a lot of things, but I tamp them all down because I have to be the strong one. I can’t let this send Scarlett spiraling.

  I put my hand between them like I’m waving a flag. “Scarlett and I are going to the carriage house. We can talk about this later when you’ve both calmed down.”

  I wrap my arm around my sister and walk her out of the kitchen. She seems like she wants to yell eighty billion things over her shoulder at Mama, but she mostly complies.

  “Skyler, you can let go of me,” she says as I pull her across the grass.

  “Okay, but if you turn around, I will drag you into the carriage house by your feet.”

  She doesn’t try to turn, but she does do a lot of yelling. “UGH! Can you believe them?!”

  “Nope,” I say. “Not even a little bit. But we are going to a party tonight and we are going to have fun and you are going to blow off steam and everything is going to be okay.”

  I’m not totally sure if she’s listening to me. She seems pretty transfixed by her phone.

  “Scarlett?” I say.

  “Let’s go to that party.”

  Ellie

  “Shh! you’re being too loud.”

  “Well, I can’t see anything!”

  “Ow. That was my foot!”

  “Sorry!” Sky whispers.

  It was my foot, and honestly, I don’t even care. You know why? Because I’m just sneaking out of the house with my new friends to go to a party, no big deal.

  “Y’all!” hisses Scarlett. I didn’t realize that word could have such authority. “We are about to have to slip under the porch where our moms are sitting and drinking wine, and this time we don’t have Journey for cover, so I need you to get it together.”

  We do. We try reallyreallyreally hard. We slide along the house with our backs to it and we don’t make a sound.

  Our moms’ voices carry down to us. My aunt Adeline is telling a story in her loud, Southern drawl. “Skyler came out just fine, but the doctor had to REACH INSIDE ME and pull Scarlett out. Let me tell you how fun that was.”

  Skyler mimes vomiting into the bushes, and I try not to giggle.

  Then, Momma chimes in. Something about second-degree tears and thirty-seven stitches and not letting my dad anywhere near her after, and—

  “Ohmygosh, did she just say ‘vagina-specific PTSD’?”

  It comes out, I can’t help it. I clap my hand over my mouth while Scarlett shoots laser beams at me with her eyes.

  Sorry, I mouth.

  We all stand there, frozen, but luckily the moms don’t seem to have heard me. They’ve moved on to talking about these things that are like maxi pads but they turn cold when you shake them, and OMG PLEASE REMIND ME TO NEVER HAVE CHILDREN EVER.

  We tiptoe under the porch, right underneath them. I can tell by the way the other girls are grinning that they feel as badass as I do right now. It’s not like Momma never lets me go to parties (when I actually get invited to one), but I definitely have to confirm that there will be a parent there and that there won’t be any drinking. Skyler and Scarlett have the same rule, and Amelia Grace’s mom is even stricter. So, secrecy.

  There’s a pretty rough stretch where we have to go right across open grass, and Amelia Grace does a secret agent–style forward roll, but the lights are off at the dock and there are more than enough shadows to hide us. We can’t take the real boat, unfortunately—it would make too much noise—but I feel like a lot of CIA operatives use paddleboats in all their most harrowing maneuvers.

  We pile into the paddleboat. Quiet as a mouse, stealthy as a dying elephant. Seriously, I thought we were going to tip this thing for a hot second. And then Skyler and I take the foot pedals, and she teaches me how to handle the rudder, and we sail off into the moonlight to a Gatsbyesque floating party.

  This is seriously the best night of my life.

  Scarlett

  I am so angry, I could set things on fire with my mind. Why is she doing this? I get that you don’t get to choose if someone cheats on you, but you do get to choose how you respond to it. Ideally, with a rage level that could melt glass.

  I resist the urge to kick the paddleboat, mostly because Amelia Grace is sitting next to me and I want her to think I’m a nice person.

  Mama came over to the carriage house and tried to talk to me more before we snuck out. She said Daddy’d be staying at an Airbnb in town, but she also said we’d “see how it goes,” and just, fuck no. I am not staying here if there’s even the slightest possibility that he’s staying here, so I told her I’d sleep over at my friend Kayleigh’s house so I don’t have to see him. She said that was fine, but she looked super wounded about it. Then she asked me if I’d been cutting, and just, fuck all the way off. No, I haven’t. Not that you’re helping matters.

  I get out my phone and text
Kayleigh about tomorrow. I should probably text Reese too because tomorrow is our six-month anniversary, and he was going to come out here and we were going to go to Los Lobos, but now I don’t know. Also, I have an Instagram update. Carter. And Reese. Having milkshakes at the diner. And they’re with a group of people just like last time, but you know what? I don’t care. Between that and my parents, it’s all too much. Because all I can think is Carter plays softball and sings in school musicals and is student council treasurer. And she doesn’t have any scars. Why would he want someone like me when he could have a girl who floats on clouds?

  Kayleigh texts back that they’re not at the lake this weekend, but I can use their spare key and stay in the guest bedroom anyway. I type back, thanks. And then I’m staring at the picture of him and Carter (Really? Do their faces need to be that close together? And who takes selfies with other people’s boyfriends anyway?), and I don’t know what comes over me, but I dash out a text to him:

  Hey, can you pick me up from my friend Kayleigh’s house tomorrow? I’ll send you the address. It’s empty right now, but I’m gonna stay in their guest room so I don’t have to see my dad when he comes over.

  I hesitate before I type the next line.

  And you should spend the night.

  Skyler

  Sandbar parties make me think of some fantastical world lived entirely on boats and in starlight. The party shines like a beacon even from a long ways out. But as we get closer, it starts to take shape. Boats and people and music and lights and shadowy spaces to fall in and out of love.

  Scarlett

  I don’t get why everyone freaks out over sandbar parties. It’s really just a bunch of boats tied together and people drinking PBR while calf-deep in lake water.

  Ellie

  This sandbar party thing is totally and completely fabulous, and I am taking approximately one million pictures for my Instagram feed, of which I will post maybe two (it’s important not to look thirsty). Also, there is no place in the world more perfect for a first kiss. I’m certain of it.

  Amelia Grace

  It’s kind of weird the things rich people do for fun. I mean, the party looks cool, don’t get me wrong, but still. Weird.

  Skyler

  We finally get close enough for someone to reel us in and tie off our paddleboat. Ellie is pinging with excitement beside me. The tricky part is getting from our tiny boat onto a big boat, but some guys pull us up without anyone landing in the water.

  The second Ellie is on semi-solid ground, she starts craning her neck in every direction.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Looking for you know who.”

  “Voldemort?”

  “No, your boat driver.”

  “Oh.” I feel like I have swallowed a lot of hot chocolate very quickly.

  Ellie leans into me. “Do you see him yet?”

  I shake my head. “No. Wait, yes! Okay.” I whisper to Ellie, “He’s standing over there by the giant ice block thing. Look. Don’t look! Sorry. I mean, he’s right there, but don’t look like you’re looking.”

  Ellie whistles. “He certainly isn’t lacking in the pulchritude department.”

  “Shh. What if he hears you?”

  “He’s not gonna know what it means.”

  I glance over again. He appears to be drinking from the ice block.

  “So, what do you want to do?” I ask. “It’s your first sandbar party.”

  “Um, creepily watch while you hit on your boat-driver man, obviously.”

  I look again. His face looks so much less tight and guarded tonight. I think about how good it would feel to go over there and talk to him and escape everything that happened with Mama and Scarlett.

  “I definitely need to introduce Amelia Grace to my friend Zoe first.”

  Amelia Grace

  I should probably find Skyler so I can find Zoe. But Scarlett was like, “I need a drink. Stat.” And she doesn’t like beer, so I felt like it was my duty to hop from boat to preppy, white guy–filled boat with her looking for something that wasn’t PBR or Corona. We somehow ended up on a dilapidated pontoon boat with three girls wearing ultra-short jean shorts and cowboy hats.

  “Hey, y’all!” yells one, hugging me like we’re long-lost sisters. “Y’all want a drink?” Drank.

  “If you have anything that’s not crappy beer, I will give you my firstborn child,” says Scarlett.

  “We got sweet tea vodka, and we’re getting shitcanned!” hollers another girl. She swings the bottle over her head.

  Scarlett flashes a wild grin. “Sounds good to me.”

  They pour her a shot and hold their glasses toward the moon. “To gettin’ shitcanned!”

  Not drunk/wasted/plastered/tipsy/tanked/sloshed/intoxicated/hammered. Shitcanned.

  And I know it’s weird, but I feel the biggest flood of relief. I can breathe in a way I couldn’t when we were on those blinding-white speedboats with the boys in polos talking about playing golf and getting lit. I am among my people.

  Ellie

  So far, we’re one for three. We have successfully located Sky’s boat-driver boy, but we still haven’t found Zoe or any boys I might be interested in kissing. I keep an eye out though. Some friends of Skyler’s offer us drinks. My stomach tightens at the thought of being the only person not drinking, of people noticing, but the cooler has nonalcoholic options too, and Scarlett’s not around to show off for, so I crack open a can of grapefruit LaCroix. Well, technically it’s pamplemousse-flavored because that’s what it says on the side and that’s the French word for “grapefruit.” I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel at least twice as fancy.

  I pull out my phone. Take a sip of my drink. Mmmm, pamplemousse. The best part is how LaCroix fills you up even though there’s no calories. Maybe it’s the bubbles or something. I know we’ve only been here for, like, twenty minutes, but I really want to check Insta and see if my floating party post has a gajillion likes yet. 2,044. Not bad!

  But then a Discord notification pops up. It’s a DM to me and Riley. From Autumn.

  “Hey, Sky, I have to take care of a tennis thing. Can I catch up with you in a minute?”

  Skyler smiles at me. “Sure.”

  She heads off toward another boat, and I stop and lean against the railing of this one and pull up my phone again.

  Autumn: Hey, I wanted to talk to y’all about Emily Rae.

  Riley: What’s up?

  Autumn: I had kind of a weird thing happen when I was scrimmaging with her the other day. Ellie, what really happened at the tournament?

  My first feeling: Ohmygosh, someone else finally sees it too. And Autumn of all people. She’s Emily Rae’s best friend.

  My second: Autumn DMed ME. I feel warm down to my toes. I’ve always wanted to be part of a private Discord gossip chat. I’m flooded with this weird sort of giddiness as I type my reply.

  Ellie: She lifted her finger to say it was out when it was definitely in.

  Riley: But everybody can make mistakes like that every now and then.

  Autumn: But with Emily Rae, it’s more than that. Right, Ellie?

  Ellie: I mean, yeah. It just happens too much. And too, like, obviously.

  Autumn: So, you agree that she’s cheating?

  It’s hard to come out and say it so strongly, even though I know it’s true. But, you know what? Yes. I don’t need to be friends with stupid Emily Rae and her stupid lack of integrity.

  Ellie: I think she’s the biggest effing cheater I’ve ever played tennis with.

  Scarlett

  I throw back another shot and decide it would be a good time to check my phone again.

  Oh! He’s texting. I watch the three little dots at the bottom of my screen. And watch them. Ohmygosh, I have never seen him take this long to send a text in the entire history of our relationship. Is he writing a novel? Finally, a text!

  Does this mean what I think it means?

  Ha, I think I broke his brain because it to
ok ten minutes of typing to produce that sentence. I snicker into my fist, thinking of him sitting there with his phone, typing and deleting and deleting and typing. But when it’s time to text back, I hesitate.

  Yes.

  He texts me back, again with the long pause.

  Three smiley face emojis.

  That is it. I mean, they’re the kind with the really big grin, but I all but told you I was going to have sex with you, and you can’t even reply with actual words?

  You’re in charge of planning the date, tho, I text.

  This time I don’t have to wait for a reply.

  Already on it. It’s going to be perfect.

  I smile. I’m doing it. My parents’ relationship may be falling apart, but I am making this work. I look up from my phone to see Ellie clambering over the railing. Also stumbling. Oops, and almost falling. I rush over and hold out my arms so she doesn’t face-plant. She grabs my wrists.

  “Thank you,” she says, smiling.

  As she lets go, her eyes remain on my forearms for a second too long. Widen in a way I’ve seen too many times before. I brace myself, but she doesn’t ask me how I got them or try to offer any weird advice.

  “That could have been bad,” she says, before going over and saying hi to Amelia Grace.

  It is maybe a little bit possible that I should give her another chance.

  Amelia Grace

  “How you doing?” I ask Ellie.

  Scarlett and our new friends are doing another shot behind me.

  Ellie shrugs. “Good, good. I’m, uh—” She glances at her phone, then shoves it in her pocket, fast. Stands up straight. “I’m looking for my first kiss.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  She blushes.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant. You seem like someone who would have had a first kiss already. I also did not mean that to sound bad.” Geez.