“No, you’re okay.” She smiles. “I’ve just been really focused on tennis and friends and . . . tennis. You’re also not really supposed to go around kissing people if you’re Muslim, so there’s that too. And there’s definitely guys I think are hot, and sometimes it’s fun to wonder if today is the day I’ll meet someone and that thing that happens for people will happen for me, but for now I’m just happy being me.”
“Oh. Well, I think that’s really cool.”
She grins. “Thanks.”
We look out at the lake, bats swooping across the sky every now and again to snatch a mosquito.
“Hey, Amelia Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“Has it ever happened for you? That thing that hits people?”
I watch Scarlett laughing in the moonlight.
“Yes.”
Ellie
I have completely lost Skyler. I hop from boat to boat to boat trying to find her. I’m just wading through the water in the middle in case she’s hanging out there.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. And then again. And again. I try to focus on searching for Sky, but it. Will. Not. Stop. Vibrating.
I type in my password. I expect the onslaught of pings to be coming from my DM with Autumn and Riley.
But they’re all coming from the main tennis server.
Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no.
Someone has screencapped our DM convo and posted it to the General channel.
Autumn: Oh, hai, just wondering how some people can be such sore winners:
Ellie: I think she’s the biggest effing cheater I’ve ever played tennis with.
I click to view the replies.
Autumn: Bitch should know I always get receipts.
Underneath are the screencaps of the rest of our conversation.
Stephanie: WOW. Just wow.
Macy: Holy. Shit.
Holy shit is right. I feel like I can’t breathe right now. Autumn is Emily Rae’s best friend. I know this. How could I have been so stupid? I keep scrolling. I can’t pull myself away.
Emily Rae: I just think teamwork is SO important and seeing comments like these after knowing how hard we’ve all worked to build team unity is really hurtful and wrong. Thank you so much to everyone who has reached out to me personally. It’s been a pretty freaking terrible night, but your messages are the thing getting me through it. I love my academy girls
Her post has dozens of likes. Almost everyone at the academy. And then the replies:
Stephanie: We love you so much, Em! I’m so sorry this is happening to you.
Macy: this is so fucked up but we got your back gurl! #strongertogether
Autumn: Emily Rae for President!!!
Riley: Here for you, Em
That’s the one that almost breaks me.
Skyler
I find Zoe on my way to find Amelia Grace.
“Hey!”
“Hey!”
We are the kind of friends who squeal when we see each other and hug extra tight.
“You have to come with me to find my friend!” I say.
Zoe shrugs happily. “Okay.”
She follows along behind me as we hop from boat to boat. I love how easygoing she is. And how cool she always looks in her sundresses and gray hair (but not old-people gray, the cool kind). Also, she likes science and she’s really funny. So she’s basically perfect for Amelia Grace, right?
We find her on a rusty pontoon boat at the edge of the party. A girl in a camo bikini top helps us onto the boat. I run right up to Amelia Grace.
“Hi! This is Zoe!”
I stand there while they blink at each other. I’m sure they’ll start falling in love any second now.
“I’m Amelia Grace,” says Amelia Grace.
“I’m Zoe,” says Zoe. “Oh. I guess she already said that.”
“OKAY, I HAVE TO GO FIND ELLIE NOW, BYE,” I say.
I am nothing if not stealth.
Amelia Grace
“Well, that was awkward.”
The girl I just met, Zoe, does this laugh/blush combo. She has a really beautiful smile. “Yeah,” she says. “How do you know Skyler?”
“Oh.” How to explain this without telling her all the things? “Our moms are best friends, so we’re staying at the lake house with them this summer.” There. The low-drama version. “And you go to church with Skyler, right?”
“Synagogue,” says Zoe. “Skyler and I do Jewish youth group stuff together in the summer, but I think she goes to a Christian church sometimes too.”
“Oh, right.” I kind of remember that.
Neither of us says anything for a second. Zoe tucks her hair behind her ears but then pulls it back out and kind of fidgets with it.
“Hey, so, I just got new shoes and my feet are killing me,” she says. “Do you, uh, want to go dip our feet in the water?”
She glances up at me, quick like a rabbit. Her cheeks turn pink again.
Ohmygosh, she’s nervous. A girl. Is nervous. To be around me. It makes me feel special and interesting and kind of like I might throw up.
“I’d love to,” I say.
Scarlett
Amelia Grace is talking to Zoe. Not that I care. I look around, but my sister has already vanished, so I don’t even get the pleasure of telling her how much it doesn’t bother me.
Why did she even ask my permission anyway? I’m in a relationship. And I’m pretty sure I’m straight.
Zoe and Amelia Grace go to the back of the boat and dangle their legs in the water. I don’t know why I’m watching.
They look cute together, like they’re supposed to be a couple. Their bodies arc toward each other, even though they’re just talking.
I pull out my phone to text Reese again.
Ellie
Do I apologize? Take it all back? Or do I stand by my initial (and entirely true) assertion that Emily Rae is, in fact, a big effing cheater?
I feel sick. I sit and watch as the replies keep coming. I am every academy girl’s Friday night. Come one, come all, there’s carnage and it’s fresh.
I type things and delete them. Type and delete. Nothing I say can fix this.
I can feel my blood pressure rising. And then I see Skyler coming toward me, and it hits me. I have real friends now. Well, one real friend, at least. Why am I doing this to myself?
I type out a response, one that is more concerned with expressing the honest contents of my heart than making people like me, and this time I hit send.
Ellie: Friendship is important. Team unity is important. But so is integrity.
I’m sorry for what I said and how I said it. But I think it’s important that we examine ourselves and how we’re playing to make sure we’re being our very best, in all areas.
My fingers have barely finished moving when the replies start coming in.
Autumn posts a GIF of a garbage truck. On fire.
Autumn: Actual footage of Ellie’s apology.
Macy: just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse
Stephanie: Nice, nice. Way to double down with your trash-fire apology.
Autumn: Right? Pretty sure real apologies don’t contain the word “but.”
“Hey!” Skyler is bouncing in front of me. “I don’t want to brag, but I think Zoe and Amelia Grace are totally going to fall in love with each other tonight!”
“That’s awesome!” I squeal. (Well, attempt to squeal. It’s hard to summon a true squeal while you’re staring down an internet drag.)
“Right?!” Sky squeals enough for the both of us and gives me an excited hug. Then she blushes. “Sorry. I just really love hugs.”
I realize my fake smile is probably not the greatest right now. “Ohmygosh, me too!” I rush to say. “Totally a hugger.”
I glance down at my phone again. My post has two likes. Sadia and Heather. And a lot more replies.
Emily Rae: Saying friendship is important after writing what you did is really crazy in this context.
Autumn
: You wouldn’t know friendship if it bit you in the ass.
Skyler starts acting all fidgety. “Oh! He’s here again!”
We’ve somehow ended up back on the boat with the ice luge where boat-driver boy is the once and future king of all the shots. I watch her watching him. He’s stumbling this way.
I think about the messages eating up my phone. They’re wrong. I CAN be a good friend.
I gently push Skyler so that she runs into the boat driver.
Skyler
“SKYLER!!!!” Boat Driver yells and spins me around in an almost-hug.
“Hi!” I say when he puts me down. And then, I don’t know, there’s something about his excitement that unleashes something in me, and I just blurt it out. “Guess what! I’m going to start playing softball again!”
He frowns and cocks his head to the side. Right. I guess I didn’t exactly connect the dots for him. I check to make sure his friends are still in the background by the ice thing before I go all, Remember that offhand thing you said that changed my life?
“During the Great Canoe Rescue, remember?” I say. “You were talking about how having something to look forward to can get you through?”
The blankness is still in his eyes. Oh, gosh, he has no idea what I’m talking about. I would like to melt through the floor of this boat now. Or apparate. Apparition should really be a thing.
“Shit, I can’t even remember two hours ago.”
It is then that I realize how much he’s slurring his words. And also that he smells like a distillery.
“Oh,” I say.
“I’ll see you around,” I say.
“Wait, Skyler, wait. Don’t go.” He wraps a sloppy arm around me. “I’m sorry. I’m just like, I’m just like, so crossfaded right now.”
A tan boy with bright red highlight things in his hair grabs Boat Driver by the elbow. “Sorry, I’m just gonna collect him.” He says it to me, but he glances at Ellie.
“Wait, noooo.” Boat Driver hangs on to me like a sleep-deprived kid.
My sister appears out of nowhere, and I have never been more grateful to see her.
“This party sucks. You wanna go?”
“Yes, please,” I say, removing his arm from my person.
“Wait,” he slurs. “Where you going? You know what?” he calls after us. “You’re so serious all the time. You should smile more.”
Scarlett flips him the bird without even turning around.
Sometimes I love my sister so much it’s hard to put into words.
Skyler
Today, we breakfast like French people. Brie and croissants and honey and preserves and fresh berries and café au lait. It makes me feel the absolute fanciest. Scarlett would probably feel fancy too if she wasn’t so hungover.
The moms are still inside, so it’s just us girls rehashing the party from last night.
Amelia Grace pops another raspberry in her mouth. “Zoe wants to go to Duke, did she tell you that? And she wants to major in physics.”
“That’s so cool,” I say. I already know both of these facts about Zoe, but honestly, it seems to be giving Amelia Grace such joy just to say Zoe’s name, and, hi, I’m not going to crush that.
“She’s going to be away at some kind of serious science camp for a while, but she said she’d text me when she gets back.”
“That’s awesome!” Not to brag, but I totally made that happen.
I go to squeeze some honey over my brie, but I can’t get it open.
“Hey, Ellie, can you get this for me?”
“Sure!”
She seems really excited to help, and she does it in half a second, which is good because no one notices, but bad because it means it was easy enough that I should have been able to do it myself.
“Ughhhh,” says Scarlett.
We all turn to look at her.
“Sorry. My head hates me this morning. Also my stomach.” She lays her head down on the table.
Ellie nudges me. “How did things go with your boy? The conversation looked . . . interesting.”
“Who are we talking about?” Scarlett is like a wolf that’s smelled blood.
“Just a guy,” says Ellie.
“The one you flicked off as we were leaving,” I add.
“Ew. That guy?” Scarlett tears into him. Viciously. Sometimes I hate how sarcastic she is. And other times she uses it to eviscerate someone who totally deserves it and it’s my favorite thing about her.
She pretends to fall off her chair. “I’m sorry. I’m just like, I’m just like, so crossfaded right now.” It is honestly a spot-on impression. And it makes me feel at least 50 percent better about thinking that I shared a connection with that loser.
“What’s ‘crossfaded’?” asks Ellie.
And at that exact second, our moms arrive.
“Crossfaded?” says Mama, pulling up a chair.
“Umm . . .” My eyes go big. Crossfaded is getting drunk and high at the same time, such that you are “crossfaded.”
My sister clears her throat. “Crossfaded is kind of like a mixture of balayage and ombré, such that your hair is crossfaded.”
“Oh, that sounds gorgeous,” says Heidi, who came over with Val to have brunch with us this morning.
“Yeah, I’ll have to ask for it next time I go to the salon,” says Mama. “You girls are the best at keeping me up on my style.”
We try to hold in our giggles, but Amelia Grace is even worse than me, and she has to play it off by pretending she’s having a coughing fit.
“Are you okay?” asks Heidi.
Amelia Grace nods. “Hey, did you show Val the bookshelves yet?”
Val gets all excited. “They are AMAZING. I thought you were just going to assemble some Ikea stuff. I can’t believe you built those out of nothing so they’d be just perfect for the room. I feel like there’s a word for that.”
Amelia Grace grins. “Bespoke.”
They chatter on about nursery ideas before Heidi sets down her fork and groans. “I am SO hungry, but then I eat, and it’s like there’s not enough room for any food because the baby is taking up ALL the space.”
“When are you due?” asks Aunt Neely.
Heidi pats her belly. “Four weeks.”
“You know Neely used to be a midwife?” says Val.
“I think that’s so cool,” says Scarlett. Just as Heidi says, “You don’t do it anymore?”
“Sometimes I’ll act as a doula or a lactation consultant for women at church who need help, but that’s about it these days.”
Heidi’s eyes light up. “Oh, we’re still looking for a doula. And I know there are some ladies on my mom board who need lactation help.”
They launch into a discussion about breastfeeding, all of the grown ladies, but also my sister who has seen every episode of Call the Midwife at least twice and who asks Aunt Neely if she needs an apprentice. The rest of us take it as our cue to leave as quickly as possible.
I go swimming with Ellie, slow and easy, not pushing. After, my hands are feeling so good that I decide to do some practice pitches against the net my dad set up out back. I do it when the moms go out for lunch at Los Lobos, just to be safe. I don’t want them to see me, or worse, for Daddy to see me when he comes for their date. Throwing feels good. I don’t need my family. I don’t need some new cute boy. I just need me.
I’m still up in my me-and-only-me feelings as I’m walking down to the dock to dip my feet in the water before dinner. I slip off my shoes and pad across the weathered boards in my bare feet. That’s when I see it. A rock in the leftmost corner, right where the dock ends and the water begins. I swear it wasn’t there yesterday.
There’s a blue piece of construction paper underneath folded in half. I pick up the rock. SKYLER, the paper says. So I open it.
Skyler,
I’m really sorry about what happened at the party last night. Well, about what my buddy, Andres, told me about the party last night. I actually don’t remember a whole lot. This is pro
bably not helping my case.
Look, I know what you must think of me, but I swear I’m not like that. If you want to give me another chance, there’s a party at Nate’s house tonight—it’s the big blue one off the corner of Horseshoe Island. I promise it won’t be like last night, just some people playing pool and stuff.
Please be there?
Bennett
Ellie
I think about checking Discord. I know, I know, I said I wouldn’t. But I’m out here on the dock all alone with my lunch, and my phone is calling to me. I wonder how many likes Emily Rae’s posts have now. I type in my password. Flip to the Discord app.
You know what? I don’t need to do this. I take a picture of my avocado on toast and post it to Instagram instead. #healthy eating #goals
There. That’s better.
I bite into my twelve-grain toast with avocado spread. Isn’t it weird how food just tastes better when you know it’s so good for you?
I hear footsteps on the dock.
“Whatcha doin’?” Skyler sits down next to me.
“Oh. Um. Just posting my lunch to Instagram.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh, is it for your goal?”
My g—? Right. That goal. “Um, not exactly.” I start blushing, I can’t help it. “But that’s a good point. I should get started on that.”
“Do you need any help?”
“Totally!” I don’t actually know what I’m doing, but she looks so happy at the idea of helping that I jump at the chance.
“Cool. So, what do we do?”
Good question. Despite what Scarlett thinks, my Be More Authentic campaign is going to consist of a lot more than no-makeup selfies. Anyway, I already do those.
“I’m not even totally sure yet,” I admit. “I’ve already made some changes. Like, I used to spend all this time on Insta, just looking at photos and thinking about how to do workouts better and eat healthy, but it’s hard because fitness bleeds into thinspiration and body goals and then I started looking at all this thigh gap and pro-ana stuff.”
The Summer of Impossibilities Page 16