Any Place But Here

by Sarah Van Name

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Not, like, frequently. But a couple of times at parties, sure. Patrick dared us to, so we did.”

  I stared at her. She glanced at me and laughed again, a little more self-conscious this time. “Jesus, June, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like we hooked up. It was just one kiss a few times. I mean, you’re drunk, someone’s there, it’s human nature to kiss them, right? I’m still straight. So is she. And Patrick doesn’t mind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That is not what I was worried about,” I said.

  “Then what’s the big deal?”

  “Nothing. It’s not—it’s nothing.” I wished it weren’t raining so I could roll down the window and get some fresh air. “I just felt bad about it, yesterday.”

  “Oh, well, don’t feel bad. I really don’t care.”

  It knocked the breath out of me. I knew it would’ve been better to stop talking, but I couldn’t. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Ashleigh.”

  She sighed impatiently. “Well, June, I knew you’d judge me, and I didn’t want that.”

  “I’m not judging you.”

  “Yes, you are. I can tell. And it sucks, okay? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  She drove in silence the rest of the way to Patrick’s house, and with the rain rolling down the windows, I congratulated myself. I had gotten what I wanted. She didn’t think it was a big deal. She wasn’t going to ask any more questions.

  It felt awful.

  We got to Patrick’s house, and he let us in the side door, wrapping a possessive arm around Jess’s waist as she leaned in to kiss him. “Where’s the tequila?” she asked as soon as she came up for air. It was eleven thirty in the morning.

  Ethan played bartender that day, and when I asked him quietly for seltzer with lime, he didn’t ask any questions. Jess and Patrick disappeared into his room around one, and Ethan and I listened to music and played chess with Patrick’s parents’ beautiful, rarely used marble chess set. It was one of those two-person tables with drawers for the pieces and the board in the top, and sitting there by the window, playing chess in silence on a gloomy gray day, I felt pleasantly adult. The pieces were smooth and cool under my fingers. As we put them away, I found an extra queen rolling around in the drawer, her crown simple and rounded like a beret. I slipped her into my purse.

  * * *

  “You are bad at this game.”

  Candace laid down her last card and smiled. Bryan cursed, which sounded kind of funny in his twelve-year-old voice.

  “I am bad at all games,” I told her. Apparently, since I’d left, my family’s traditional movie nights had been replaced by game nights. Over the course of the last week, Candace and Bryan had patiently taught me their three standard board games, all of which were complex, three- to four-player odysseys with opaque rule sets. Now, it was Saturday night, my last night at home, and I had begged them for relief. They relented. We were playing Uno. Which I was bad at, but at least I understood the rules.

  “I don’t understand how this happened,” Bryan said as he gathered up the cards and expertly shuffled them. “We’re both so good at games.”

  “In all things, I am the exception to this family,” I said wearily.

  “We love you.” Candace reached across the table to give me half a hug.

  “Yeah, things are a lot more boring with you gone,” Bryan said. He started dealing the next hand, sliding the cards across the smooth tabletop.

  “When do you leave again?” Candace asked.

  “Tomorrow after lunch.”

  “Couldn’t you stay later? Mom said we could go out for ice cream if we can get all our homework done.”

  “I have to get settled in at Oma’s. Thanks, though.”

  Candace sighed as she picked up her cards, and on the table beside me, my phone buzzed. There were a few messages on my group text with Sam, Kitty, and Claire about their last-night-of-break plans—mostly nice dinners with family, so they were comparing restaurant menus. And one from Jess: are you SURE you can’t come out tonight???

  positive, I replied.

  ok but are you sure, came the response. because it’s gonna be at Ash’s house and you know how she lives way out in the woods? it’s v spooky but in a fun way.

  I hesitated. Before December, I would’ve said yes. It wouldn’t be that hard. My bedroom window opened onto the roof, and years ago, I had learned how to shimmy down onto the edge of the first-floor porch swing, dropping from there onto the ground. Getting back up was harder but not impossible, especially with a boost from Jess. My parents had discovered me gone once, but that was over a year ago now, and I doubted they’d check on me in the middle of the night this evening.

  But then I pictured Jess and Ashleigh kissing in a crowded basement, and I didn’t even want to try.

  “June, come on,” Bryan said, nudging me. “It’s your turn.”

  I picked up my hand. It was hard to tell with this game, but I was pretty sure I had terrible cards. I picked up a two and immediately played it, which seemed to be a legal move. Then I peered at my phone screen again.

  “Come on. Don’t look at your phone,” Candace protested. “You said you’d play with us.”

  “I have shitty cards,” I retorted.

  “We all have shitty cards,” Bryan said, which made me smile. Cursing was new to the twins this year, and I found it delightful, the practiced, deliberate carelessness with which they pronounced the words. “That doesn’t mean we can’t pay attention.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I texted Jess a quick I honestly can’t I’m so so so so sorry. She responded immediately with several sad faces, and I put my phone facedown, switching it on silent. But as we played, her texts still nagged at me. I wanted to pick up my phone and say something. I just didn’t know what.

  Bryan yelped in excitement, holding up his last remaining card. I still had four cards in my hand.

  “Fuck,” Candace swore, then quickly glanced at me to see my reaction. I couldn’t help but smile as Dad walked into the kitchen.

  “Candace!” he said, but he didn’t look that shocked.

  “Sorry, Dad.”

  “Time to clean up for dinner. Your mom ordered pizza.”

  “Yes,” the twins muttered in unison. Bryan played his last card and won. I glanced at my phone.

  Ethan: gonna miss you tonight, it was good to see you this week

  Kitty: actually looks like the cafeteria is closed tomorrow for dinner but we could get dessert at harold’s at 8 if you and your grandma are having dinner early? or we could just go ahead and do dinner, ms nolan could come

  Claire, in our group text: Y’ALL YOU WON’T EVEN BELIEVE IT BUT THIS RESTAURANT HAS OFF-MENU RISOTTO BALLS

  Jess: ugh

  After dinner, the twins disappeared to play video games, and I was left at the table with my parents, half a veggie pizza between us. All three of us were still eating—the twins had finished dinner fast, excited by the promise of whatever level they were about to attack—but the mood was different with my siblings gone.

  Earlier in the week, all of us had been eating chicken enchiladas at this table when my dad had said, too casually, “So, June, do you know if there are any interesting summer session classes available at St. Anne’s?”

  I had put down my fork. “You can’t be serious.” I might’ve still been the slightest bit tipsy, though ever since the day of the kiss, I had been drinking a lot less.

  “Wait.” Bryan looked back and forth between me and our parents. “June is staying in Virginia over the summer?”

  “You can’t,” Candace said. “Right, Dad? Mom? Why are you asking that?”

  “I am not,” I said deliberately, “staying in Virginia over the summer.” I looked hard into Da
d’s eyes. He shrugged.

  “I was just wondering,” Dad said.

  “I am not staying in Virginia over the summer,” I repeated.

  Mom said, “Honey, we know,” and Bryan, anxious to break the tension, started talking about the upcoming student council vote to change one of the theme days in Spirit Week.

  I had not been alone with my parents since. Now, I swallowed my bite of pizza and took a sip of water and waited.

  “So,” Mom started, which was about what I had expected. I never knew the exact words she was going to use to tell me she was disappointed in me, but they usually started with so. “It’s been really great having you home this week,” she continued.

  “We miss you very much,” Dad added quietly. “You know, if you ever want to come back just for a weekend, we can absolutely arrange that.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. With AP exams and the SAT coming up, it was going to be a busy few months. “But I miss you, too. And the twins.”

  “They’ve been thrilled to have you here,” Dad said, smiling. “They asked if they could have the whole week off school to spend time with you.”

  “The week after spring break?” I laughed.

  “Yeah, we told them there was no chance.” Mom smiled, too, and it felt for a moment as if we were all on the same side. But then she glanced at Dad, trying to communicate something silently, and I knew the other shoe was going to drop. I kept my breathing calm and tried to prepare myself to hear them tell me to stay in Virginia over the summer. Since that dinner, I had prepared a defense.

  “We wanted to talk to you about this summer. Your father and I have discussed it, and we really think—”

  “I’ll get a job here,” I burst out. “I’ve already looked online, and it’s a little early to send out applications, but I was thinking I could be a barista. Or I can try waitressing or hosting. I could find a place that wasn’t too far from your work, so you could drive me, or if it’s in the evenings, I could borrow a car maybe. Or I can learn the bus system.” I took a breath and continued. “It’ll help me put away some money for college. I could spend more time with the twins. And just, overall, I love Oma. We get along a lot better than I thought, and school is okay. Sometimes it’s really good, actually!” I was going off script, babbling. I paused for a moment and got myself on track. “But I miss home a lot. I miss the twins and Jess. I really, really want to come home for the summer.”

  I folded my hands in front of me and exhaled.

  They blinked.

  “Well,” Dad said, adjusting his glasses. “This is a surprise.”

  “I know you want me to stay in Virginia, but I really want to be here,” I said. It sounded like pleading, and I was reminded of my conversations with my parents before they sent me to St. Anne’s in the first place. I pushed away those memories. “I miss home. Can you get that? No matter how nice things are in Virginia, I miss home. And this summer and next summer are the only times I’m going to get to be here for months at a time ever again.”

  “June,” Mom said gently. Amusement and sadness battled on her face. “We miss you, too. We were going to suggest you get a summer job here. At home.”

  “Oh.”

  My dad looked like he was struggling not to laugh. “You made the case quite convincingly.”

  “Wait,” I said, still trying to internalize this shift. “The other night at dinner—”

  “I was just saying it was an option,” Dad said, putting his hands up. “Truth be told, your mom and I are looking forward to having you home for the summer, so we didn’t love the idea, either. We just thought, since your Oma says things are going well up there, we’d talk about it. But clearly, it’s not something you want.”

  “Getting a job here sounds great,” Mom said. “I can help you with applications in a month or two.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.” All my built-up anxiety dissipated, and I laughed a little in relief. “Well, cool. Thank you.”

  My parents both started laughing, too.

  Candace poked her head around the corner. “What’s funny?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I’m coming home for the summer,” I said.

  “Well, yeah, I knew that. That’s not funny.”

  “No,” Mom sighed between giggles. “It’s not.”

  “The boss we’re fighting is too hard,” Bryan announced as his head appeared next to Candace’s. “Will you guys come and play that new game with us? The one with the giraffes? June, we’ve been playing it with four people, but it’s way better with five.”

  As Candace and Bryan walked me through the new game, I flipped circles from green to red and back again, moved my little clay giraffes into and out of the nine segments on the board, and tried to stay focused. The rules were complex and confusing; no matter how I tried, I always did the wrong thing. But I didn’t mind. Somewhere in the woods, in Ashleigh’s house, Jess was dancing and flirting and drinking, and I was here at home, losing at a game I didn’t understand. I should have been sad. Instead, I could only feel grateful.

  Fifteen

  I hadn’t wanted to admit that I missed Virginia. Wanting to go back to Oma and school felt like a betrayal to Jess, to the twins and the trappings of home. But as Dad pulled up in front of the condo and Oma waved at me from her balcony, the river glittering beneath her, something inside me split open, a stone piercing the surface of still water. I wanted to be here. It wasn’t home, not exactly, but it was right.

  I took a picture of the school from the passenger seat and texted Claire, Kitty, and Sam, I’m back!!!!!! Their responses were immediate.

  “What are you smiling at?” Dad asked as he parked.

  I looked up from my phone. “Just my friends. They’re happy I’m back.”

  “I’d love to meet them.”

  I looked at my father carefully, trying to figure out if he was skeptical. But he seemed genuine. Just like Mom a week earlier, he had been entirely pleasant on the drive, not raising the issue of the summer even once.

  “Maybe at the end of the year,” I said.

  Dad helped me start a load of laundry and chatted with Oma before leaving. After he left, the only noise in the condo was Eleanor Roosevelt’s snoring. Oma sat down at the kitchen table and looked at me across the room.

  “How was your spring break?” I asked her.

  “Boring. Nice. I did a lot of prep for the Garden Club meeting tomorrow; I think we’re going to plant cauliflower. How about you?”

  “Same, kind of. Minus the cauliflower.”

  “I notice that you’re not as depressed to return as you were when you got here in January.”

  I looked out at the river and the redbrick buildings of St. Anne’s. Girls were moving around on the lawn, with one intrepid group having laid out a picnic blanket in a vain attempt to sunbathe. The sun sent pale warmth through the window.

  “I’m not going to say I missed it here, but…”

  Oma smiled, and I remembered a question that I had nearly forgotten in the wake of last night’s discussion with my parents. “Hey, before I left, you said if I didn’t get in trouble over spring break, I could have a nine o’clock curfew on weekends. You weren’t just saying that, right? Because I didn’t get in trouble this week.”

  I did not mention that I had, in fact, been drunk half the days I was gone. I held my breath as she paused for a moment and then nodded.

  “Yes, I think that’s fine. I still want you back by sunset on weeknights, though, unless you’re studying in the library.”

  “Thank you,” I said in a rush. Sunset was getting later and later anyway. “And for the purposes of the extended curfew, does weekend mean Friday through Sunday, or Friday and Saturday, or Saturday and Sunday, or…”

  Oma rolled her eyes. “Friday through Sunday. But do not abuse this, June, I’m warning you. And you still have to tell me where you ar
e.”

  “I never go anywhere interesting.”

  “June.”

  “I promise.” I hesitated before continuing. “Does that mean I can go to Harold’s with Kitty and Claire for dinner tonight? An early dinner. Like five o’clock?”

  Oma laughed. “Back for an hour and already leaving again. Fine, but you’ll have to let me walk with you. I slept in, and Ellie didn’t get a walk this morning.”

  Seeing Kitty and Claire walk up to Harold’s hand in hand, I couldn’t stop grinning; they looked so happy. When they spotted me, Kitty waved and Claire threw open her arms. It was comforting to know that even if things had changed at home in some indefinable way, this here, these two, were the same as they had been when I left them. Granted, it had been a week rather than two and a half months, but still.

  Over pancakes, we caught up on one another’s spring breaks. They had both gone home and spent most of their time sleeping, reading, and hanging out with their parents. Kitty had a lot of pictures of her toes in the sand with the ocean in the background. Claire and I groaned in envy.

  “What did you do, June?” Kitty asked, spearing a blueberry with her fork.

  “Hung out with Jess and some of our old friends and my family. I learned a lot of board games. It was pretty boring. But nice.” I wasn’t exactly unwilling to tell them the entire truth—Kitty, especially, I wanted to talk to more. I just didn’t want to do it there, in Harold’s, under the cheerful yellow light with breakfast for dinner spread out in front of us. “What’s Sam up to tonight?” I asked, trying to change the subject. After we had settled on this time after lots of discussion in our text thread, he hadn’t said anything, and I hadn’t been sure if he was coming or not.

  “It’s Justin’s birthday tonight,” Claire said. “I think they’re doing a dinner with his family. Sam sends his regards.”

  Kitty gave me a look, and I couldn’t tell what she meant by it. I stared fixedly at my plate. What right do you have to ask about Sam when you can’t stop thinking about Jess? I imagined her saying. But when I looked up, she hadn’t looked away, and what I saw in her eyes was mostly pity.