She said, “My mom says I can only invite four friends to my party.”
A volcano bubbled inside me, ready to spew rage about how unfair her mom was.
Then she said, “So, um, I’m sorry you can’t come.”
Wait. Me?
I was so shocked I just sort of said, “Okay.”
All my feelings came after. I put them in an email to Ames.
The next day, I saw McCloud holding hands with Billy. She didn’t meet my eyes then either.
And I heard her giggling and telling Anne Florkowski, “Well, it’s not like I could invite her. I want this party to be really awesome, and she’s so negative. Especially about Billy.”
Anne nodded conspiratorially. “She’s a total fun vampire.”
So, that was it. There was something wrong with me that made McCloud and the other girls not want to be my friend. I shouldn’t have let so much of my darkness show around her. That was stupid.
I went home that day, and I knew biting my lip wasn’t going to be enough. I kept tossing and turning in my bed, replaying everything. Eventually I snuck down to the kitchen and got a knife. The sharp ones scared me, so I picked a dull one for cutting steak. I ran it across my forearm until it made a straight red line, not quite bleeding. I ran it across my arm until McCloud disappeared.
Afterward, I put a Band-Aid over it and hoped my parents wouldn’t notice at breakfast. They didn’t. What they did do was laugh with my sister over Saturday morning pancakes while they told me they were taking us to a county fair that night. THE county fair. And there was no way I was getting out of it.
Some things you should know: County fairs smell terrible. And they’re always hot as balls. And dusty. And the rides look like they’ll collapse if you so much as breathe on them funny. I don’t see why anyone would ever want to go.
I decided it was important to share these thoughts with my family. “It’s really hot out here.”
“You know what’s good when you’re hot?” my dad said. “Cheerwine funnel cake.”
“Ew.” Cheerwine tastes like Coke mixed with over-sweetened cherry cough medicine.
My dad laughed at me. “Are you sure you’re my child?”
Which is something he never, EVER says to my sister.
I sighed. Loudly. “How much longer are we staying?”
Maybe if I complained enough, we could leave sooner. Like, before I ran into McCloud.
“Are you kidding?” my sister said. She and my dad went off about everything they love about county fairs, culminating in gratuitous high-fiving. I wish I was joking, but that’s how my sister is. Her soul is made out of cotton candy and lilac petals and fresh-cut peonies and soap bubbles and silk pajamas. It’s pretty and delicate, but I kind of get the feeling it would melt and disappear if I dumped enough water on it.
She and my dad decided we’re, like, contractually obligated to go to this funnel cake stand Sky spotted, so Mama and I grabbed a picnic table. I took advantage of this opportunity and laid my head down.
“I really don’t feel well,” I said. “I think it’s the heat.”
Mama patted my arm. “We don’t have to stay too much longer. Don’t put your head on the table. It doesn’t look sanitary.”
I rested my head on her shoulder instead. Moms really go for that, especially once you’re older and don’t snuggle much anymore.
“Aw, sweetie.” She touched my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
My eyes flicked to the order-up window, where my sister was doing some sort of weird little shy person dance. Then they flicked to the line for the haunted house. McCloud. Was there.
I watched as she and Anne and three other girls who used to be my friends laughed and sipped lemonade slushies. Billy had missed the joke because he was too busy trying to rub McCloud’s arm without her dad seeing. (Spoiler alert: He failed. Miserably.) I narrowed my eyes. What did she see in him?
Mama followed my gaze. “Oh, look! It’s the Harrises. We should go over and say hi.”
“I really don’t want to.” I said it fast and through clenched teeth.
“Scarlett Elaine, what is the matter with you? You love McCloud.”
“Mama, please.”
McCloud still hadn’t seen us, but all she had to do was turn her head. I was begging and my face was desperate. Mama got up from the table, and she didn’t notice. If she dragged me over there, it was going to look so bad. Like I was trying to use Mama to crash the party and shame McCloud into asking me to the sleepover.
“I’m just going to say hi to Mrs. Harris. You can stay here if you don’t feel like going over there.”
She started walking toward the haunted house. I grabbed her arm just as she was squeezing past Sky.
“I need to go home. I need to go right now!”
“Scarlett!” she hissed.
A burst of inspiration hit me. “I just started my period! I’m bleeding through my shorts! I CANNOT STAY HERE ANOTHER MINUTE.” I screamed it as loud as I dared. Contorted face. Flashing eyes.
Her face softened. “Why didn’t you just say so, sweetie?”
I looked at my feet. “I was embarrassed.”
You know who else looked embarrassed? Skyler and the two boys standing next to her. Like, the embarrassment equivalent of being mortally wounded. Whatever. Better them than McCloud. I risked glancing at the haunted house again—did that line never move?!
“Order up!”
Skyler walked back to our table silently, her cheeks as red as Cheerwine. Mama and I followed.
Mama touched Daddy’s shoulder. “Babe, we need to go.”
He scrunched up his face. “But—”
She bent down and whispered a lot of things in his ear. His face turned white. “Yep. We can go.”
And then it was over. We were walking away, and McCloud and her stupid friends and her stupid boyfriend never had to know I was there. I took one last look at her over my shoulder. Watched her bump her hip against Anne’s. That’s where I would have been standing if they didn’t find me so catastrophically wretched to be around.
Sky walked along next to me, eating her funnel cake with dainty fingers. She didn’t offer to share any.
“I’m really glad we’re leaving,” I told her. “This was the worst fucking day.”
Her head snapped in my direction. I’d never seen her eyes so sharp before.
“Why do you always have to do this?”
The edge in her voice made my breath catch.
“What?”
“This is the perfect day. We’re at a carnival. Why is it so hard for you to just be happy?” Every sentence was a punch to the gut. She shook her head like she was figuring things out. It gave me a second to regroup.
“Carnivals—” I said.
She cut me off with the wave of a hand. “No, you know what it is? You’re a ruiner. You ruin things. That’s all you’re good for.”
She stalked off toward our van before I could say anything back. Laid across the backseat and pretended to be asleep so she didn’t have to look at me. I did the same thing on the middle seat so my parents wouldn’t see me cry.
I got it now. It wasn’t just McCloud. Or Anne. Or their stupid group of friends. It was me.
I am damaged.
I am toxic.
I take beautiful things and screw them up. I seep into cracks and break things to pieces. My soul is made of dark and violent truths, and my brain is a fountain of hurt and pain turning me angrier, drearier, darker.
There is something permanently wrong with me.
And the worst part? I don’t think it can ever be fixed.
Ellie
I pull out my phone while I wait. It’s 11:56. We’re supposed to be meeting at midnight. The witching hour. But so far I’m the only witch here. If I end up waiting in this loft all alone—
Nope. Not even gonna let myself think about it. I pull out my phone. At least my be-more-authentic-on-Instagram campaign is still going strong. Except, suddenly it isn�
��t. My mouth goes dry. They found me, the academy girls. I mean, it’s not like my account is a secret. I want people to find me, and, you know, follow me. But none of the academy girls have ever commented on my posts before. And I know for sure Emily Rae wasn’t following me two weeks ago.
When they say you’re not supposed to read the comments, this is why.
Mace678: don’t buy this girls’ love and light bullshit for a second. some people are only caring about their own stuff. i play tennis with her IRL, so i know
EmRae03: She basically tried to break up our whole tennis academy with her drama queen attitude. Love how she’s playing the victim on here.
AutumnJoy15: “Recovering” from food issues, my ass. Why don’t you go throw up your cheeseburger, Ellie?
Just when you think it can’t get any worse.
I set down my phone. If I read any more right now, I’ll start crying, and the girls will be here any minute. I hope.
I hear the sound of footsteps downstairs, and I’m embarrassed by how much my heart leaps. There’s the creak of the ladder. And then Amelia Grace’s head.
“Hey,” I say. It’s a word and a sigh of relief at the same time.
“Hey,” she says. “Sorry we’re late.”
We.
Because Scarlett climbs up after her, and then I’m looking for Sky next.
Only, she’s not there.
“Hey.” Scarlett winces as she meets my eyes. “Skyler’s not coming.”
“Oh.”
“She said she was gonna hang out at the big house and watch Great British Bake Off with Mama.”
Right. She doesn’t have to give me another chance just because I want her to. I guess I can still apologize to the other girls, though. I’ve hurt them too.
“I’m really sorry about the notebook,” I say. “And I’m sorry I lied. Especially when we’re supposed to be ‘no-holding-back, salt-in-the-wound honest.’ Being more authentic on social media wasn’t my impossible thing. I mean, I have actually been trying to do that, but my real goal was something else.” I take a deep breath. This is beyond mortifying. “I wrote on my paper that I wanted to get you guys to be my best friends by the end of the summer.”
There. It’s out there. And I’m still a real girl and not a human puddle of embarrassment. Mostly.
Amelia Grace cocks her head to the side and looks at me with sad, puzzled eyes. “Why would you think that’s impossible?”
“Yeah,” says Scarlett. “I just don’t understand why you felt like you had to do that to get friends.”
I should tell them all the gory details. A simple apology isn’t enough. But there’s another way. A horrifically awful, embarrassing way. I can’t even say it without cringing. I have to force each word out of my mouth.
“If you really want to know, come to my tennis tournament this weekend.”
Next, I go find Sky. Not because I think she’ll want to listen to anything I have to say, but because I still owe her an apology.
She’s tucked up on the couch with her mom, watching people make hazelnut dacquoise.
“Hey, Sky?” She narrows her eyes. I backpedal. “Skyler. Can we talk for a second? I think you have the wrong idea about me.”
Aunt Adeline announces she needs a cup of tea and scurries off to the kitchen. I sit on the couch beside Skyler, and she doesn’t move, so I take this as a sign to plow ahead.
I clear my throat. Skyler doesn’t—won’t—look at me.
I think about telling her all of it. How I’m the biggest loser and everyone hates me. Showing her the comments on Discord and Insta. My throat starts to close up at the thought. Maybe not the whole truth.
“I’m really sorry I hurt you. When I wrote what I wrote, all I meant was that I thought it would be the hardest to get Scarlett to like me and that if the rest of you guys liked me, she might give me a chance. I wrote your name down first because I thought you were really kind to me, Skyler. Not because I saw you as a stepping-stone to someone else.”
She meets my eyes, and I try to send her 80 billion telepathic messages. I haven’t told her everything—the worst things—but I’ve told her enough that I feel completely naked right now.
“It wasn’t just that,” she says. “Scarlett always gets so much attention from my family, so it hurt for you to pick her too, especially when I thought you really saw me. And there was that list you wrote about me. Chanterelles, softball, blue nail polish. Do you even like any of that stuff? Because you can just be friends with Scarlett. You don’t have to pretend to like a bunch of dorky stuff for me. It’s fine.”
“What? No! I wish you didn’t see that. Ugh, everything I say or do comes out so wrong. Do you think you could come to my tennis tournament this weekend? I feel like it might help you understand.”
She hugs a throw pillow to her chest. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, well, great. Um, I’ll leave you alone now.”
She doesn’t ask me to stay, but I guess that’s the best I can hope for.
Amelia Grace
Scarlett grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd of people on the dock. I know it’s just so we won’t get separated, but it still sends shock waves through me.
“Where are we going?”
“I want to jump off the top of the dock!” she yells. We squeeze past some guys mixing drinks on a table, and she snags a shot and throws it back without breaking her stride. She’s been like this all night.
We make our way up the stairs to the second story of the dock behind Cooper’s house, where there’s a waterslide and a platform for jumping.
“We don’t have our bathing suits,” I say.
“So? We’ll jump in with our clothes on.” Her eyes are wild. She starts taking off her shoes.
“Is everything okay?”
Her face crumples. “I broke up with Reese yesterday.”
“Oh.” It’s the only thing that comes out. Those are life-changing words. They could shift the tectonic plates of who we are to each other. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Of course, it doesn’t mean that she likes me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I don’t even want to think about him. He’s the worst. I just want to feel free, like I can put this whole thing behind me.” She steps up onto the jumping platform and grabs my hand again. This time she laces her fingers through mine. “Please? I really want to do this with you.”
Her hazel eyes are searing into mine, and I’m trying not to hope, but this feels like it means something big.
I kick off my flip-flops.
“One. Two. Three!” she yells.
We take a flying leap together and crash through the water. She doesn’t let go of my hand.
Our feet just touch the bottom of the lake, and we rocket ourselves back to the surface.
Scarlett throws handfuls of water up in the air like glitter. “That. Was. Amazing!”
It is then that I realize how much she’s slurring her words.
“Let’s get you back to dry land,” I say. This time I grab her hand and help her along. Thankfully, she lets me.
We collapse on the sand and stare up at the stars. Tonight is so wonderful, I don’t think anything could make it more perfect. Scarlett pushes herself up on her elbows. Leans over me.
“I’m, like, so lucky to have you. The luckiest.” Her hair falls forward when she says it and hits me in the shoulder. “Ooops.” She tucks it behind her ear. “But, seriously. I’m just like, there’s people who are lucky, and there’s people who are lucky.”
Her arm is getting tired of supporting her weight, and her face keeps getting closer to mine. “We’re gonna be in each other’s lives forever, okay?”
She definitely says forever with extra r’s, but I don’t care. This is happening.
Scarlett leans closer. Smiles like she knows something I don’t.
Then she sighs. “Ugh. I really have to pee. Don’t move, okay?”
I wouldn’t dream of it.
She runs off to
ward the house. I gaze out at the lake in stunned delight. I think she was going to kiss me. I touch my lips like they’ll be able to tell me.
I look up at the house even though I know she wouldn’t be coming back that fast. I decide to run up to the dock while she’s gone so I can get our shoes and phones and stuff. There’s a text from Zoe.
Hey, I’m back from camp! Can I see you tomorrow?
I sit down on the sand where Scarlett left me. I don’t know what to say back. This feels like the start of something with Scarlett. I don’t think I’m imagining it. But if she kisses me, should I kiss her back? She’s had an awful lot to drink. Maybe I just kiss her back long enough so she knows I’m not rejecting her? I don’t want to ruin things.
I put my phone down. I hate the idea of hurting Zoe’s feelings, but this thing with Scarlett, it’s huge.
I look over my shoulder again for Scarlett. It’s been a few minutes now. I thought she would—
She’s there, on the other side of the party. Dancing on a picnic table in her bare feet. She pulls a boy with shaggy blond hair up so he’s dancing with her. I’ve never even seen him before. And then she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.
I look away, fast. Of course she wasn’t interested. I’m a hopeless dreamer for manufacturing things.
I text Zoe back: Can’t wait.
Ellie
I have never felt so nervous before a tournament. Momma and I came early for warm-ups, and I told the girls to come later, but the minutes have ticked by so quickly, and later is now, and I can’t help but look at the stands. Every. Freaking. Second. Skyler isn’t here yet. I didn’t exactly expect her—I only mentioned the tournament to her a couple days ago—but the tournament’s in Augusta, and it’s only about an hour away. So, I hoped.
And then I see Scarlett coming down the sidewalk in a short black skirt, a Mother of Dragons tee knotted at the waist, and heart sunglasses. My entire body relaxes. Until she shakes her head.
“She’s not coming?”
“No.” She gives me a sad smile. “And Amelia Grace couldn’t make it either, though that has nothing to do with you.” A storm cloud crosses her face for a second.
The Summer of Impossibilities Page 22