When My Sister Started Kissing

by Helen Frost

This summer he’s been coming to the beach

  every day. Which seems to make a lot of these

  girls happy. One day last week, he got a leech

  stuck to his ankle, and all those girls over there had

  ideas about how to get it off. Everyone seemed to enjoy

  the drama. You know? No, I don’t know.

  I sure wouldn’t want to get a leech off a boy.

  These Two Sisters

  The lake

  Listen to these two, paddling home

  in their canoe, quiet at first, then a little

  eruption of argument, another space of quiet.

  Birds fly overhead and come to rest on the water

  as the conversation begins again. So what if he is

  cute, Abigail—I’m just asking what else you

  know about him. That’s Claire.

  Abigail replies, Could you call me Abi from

  now on? Claire scowls, paddles harder. Why? I

  don’t see what’s wrong with “Abigail,” she says.

  That’s what we’ve always called you. A fish jumps

  high in the air. Abi says, I’ve outgrown that name.

  End of that question for now. Back to Brock:

  Sometimes you just know things, Abi says.

  Even though we just met, I can tell he’s nice. Plus,

  all those girls who keep looking at him can’t be

  wrong, can they? Abi smiles. Claire

  is unimpressed. He lives near that house they call

  Loon Landing, says Abi, paddling more slowly,

  looking in that direction. I remember seeing

  him at the beach last year, but we never met, she says.

  Oh, is all Claire answers. Abi says, I don’t know, I just

  like him—and by the way, you don’t have to go blabbing to

  Dad about this. Claire asks, Why not? then adds, Maybe

  you should be the one to say something … Abi. But Abi

  only smiles as they paddle on toward home,

  under hanging branches, into deep water.

  New Running Clothes

  Claire

  Abigail—Abi—has always liked to get up early

  when we’re at the lake, to go for a sunrise swim.

  Last summer, she’d swim to Anna’s Island and back.

  Not me. When we’re up here, I like to sleep in.

  But this morning, I open my eyes just enough

  to see her put on her new running clothes.

  The lake is rough today, she tells me. I think I’ll go

  for a run instead. I’ll leave a note for Dad. She goes

  out, and two hours later Dad and I, and Pam,

  are having breakfast, when Abi comes in, all smiles.

  Dad says, Thanks for your note. Why is it signed “Abi”?

  She says, Can you call me that now? I ran five miles—

  first, down the road past Loon Landing, where I saw

  someone I know from the beach, and we ran together,

  all the way to the general store. We stopped for

  a smoothie and I jogged back here. The weather

  doesn’t look too good for fishing today, Dad.

  That was clever, switching the conversation

  over to fishing before Dad asks which friend

  she ran into, or comes up with another question

  about her name change. Do he and Pam notice that

  Abi curled her hair and put makeup on her face

  before she went out running? You look happy, Abi,

  is all Pam says. I can tell you love this place.

  Wind at Our Back

  Claire

  Whitecaps on the lake today, too rough

  for the canoe. A good day to stay inside and read,

  if you ask me, but Abi wants to go to the beach.

  We could ride our bikes, she says. She doesn’t need

  me to go along—she could go by herself and see

  who’s there. But she keeps insisting,

  Claire, you come, too. What if I don’t know

  anyone there today, and I’m stuck sitting

  all by myself? Right. That would be a problem.

  I know what you mean, I say. I could remind

  her why I know, but I let it go, and bring a blanket

  of my own. We go fast on the way there, the wind

  at our backs—it will be harder on the way home.

  When we get to the beach, I look around. Brock

  is at the concession stand, that group of girls

  sitting together nearby. They look up as we walk

  past. Sit with us, a girl says to Abi. She answers,

  Thanks, and spreads her blanket beside theirs.

  They were talking to her, and not to me. What

  should I do? I don’t think my sister cares

  where I sit, as long as it’s not with her. The

  girls are talking to Abi now. I see them look

  over her shoulder at Brock and two other boys

  walking toward them. I’m glad I brought a book.

  I find a place to sit in the shade and read.

  I look around for Jonilet, but I don’t see

  her or anyone else I know. Brock is sitting beside

  Abi now. I’m sure she’s not thinking about me.

  A Little Bit Closer

  Abi

  I like this boy, Brock, and I think he likes me.

  When he says something funny he glances

  at me, and if I laugh, he inches a little bit closer.

  What if he’s thinking about kissing me? I’m not sure

  I really know how to kiss. I’ve only kissed that one time

  last summer. I wonder how many times Brock has kissed.

  We Rest, Swim On

  Claire

  Wake up, Claire, it’s the Fourth of July! Abi says.

  Want to swim to the island with me? The lake

  is calm today. I could swim out there, but home,

  with the current against me? Probably not. I’ll take

  the kayak. You swim and I’ll go beside you, I say. Abi says,

  You made it out there one time last summer. I bet

  you can swim back by now. I’ll ask Dad if it’s okay.

  Dad says, Sure, and gets the binoculars. I’ll go sit

  on the dock and watch. We swim hard, float on our backs,

  then swim some more. A breeze ripples the lake’s surface.

  Abi, like a swan in her white bathing suit, glides

  through the water. I struggle beside her—nervous,

  but also determined. We rest, swim on—and I make it

  out to Anna’s Island. We lie on the warm sand to dry,

  then get ready to start back. I don’t want to admit

  how scared I am. What if— My worry is interrupted by

  TJ in his little putt-putt motorboat. He waves,

  circles back, slows down, and shouts, Hey, you two!

  Abi says, Hey, and looks away. Hi, TJ! I yell.

  He shuts off his motor and calls, Where’s your canoe?

  I answer, We swam across. I’m proud of that, but when

  I think about swimming back … I’m not so sure.

  Good for you, says TJ. That’s hard, even one way.

  You guys want a ride home? He puts his oars in the oar-

  locks, rows in to catch our answer. Abi: No thanks, we’re good.

  Me: Okay! It’s perfect that TJ showed up just in time to give me

  a ride back. Abi looks away, combs her fingers through her hair.

  TJ rests on his oars, holding his boat steady, waiting to see

  if we’ll agree. Abi finally says, Okay. TJ rows in and holds

  out a hand to help us into the boat. Abi doesn’t meet

  his eyes—which I think is rude, but TJ doesn’t seem

  to notice. We sit together on the boat’s middle seat.

  You guys going to the fireworks tonight? he asks. We were<
br />
  planning to stay home, but that did not go down well with

  the twins. I can imagine. We’re not sure, I say. Everything

  in our house these days revolves around what happens if

  the baby comes. He smiles. When will that be? he asks.

  Any day, I say. Have you picked a name? he wonders. I say,

  Maybe Pam and Dad have. I wouldn’t know. I keep talking

  to TJ, he keeps glancing at Abi, and Abi keeps looking away.

  Fireworks

  Claire

  Some people like to drive into town for the big fireworks,

  but we always go to the smaller event here at our little park.

  Pam and Mrs. Johnson baked pies for the potluck, and we sit

  with the Johnson family, waiting for it to get dark.

  Sadie and Sophia catch fireflies in a jar, holding it close

  to Devon’s face so he can see their light. TJ doesn’t like

  being around so many people at once—that’s why he never

  goes to the beach. But he caught the biggest walleye pike

  in a fishing contest, and he steps up to claim his trophy,

  then brings it back to where we’re sitting so we can all

  admire it. Where’s Abigail? asks Mr. Johnson. She was here

  a minute ago. Dad looks around. Pam says, She wants us to call

  her Abi now. I spot her, over there by her beach friends—

  three girls, four boys. She’s laughing and talking with Brock.

  TJ is watching. I think I know how he feels—he might want to

  go over there, but he’s not sure how to join in that teenager talk.

  Everyone who hasn’t seen Dad since last summer congratulates

  him and Pam on their marriage, and mentions the obvious baby.

  Most of the year-round people, and some friends who

  have summer cabins near ours, remember Mom. Maybe

  they think it’s good that Dad got married again—that

  two daughters aren’t enough family, and he needs a wife.

  As I’m considering this, I overhear Ruth Gibson

  say, It’s good to see Andrew getting on with his life.

  We’re waiting for the fireworks to start when Abi comes back.

  (Big smiles from TJ and the twins.) Dad, she says, I want to go

  into town for the fireworks. Okay? At first, he thinks she means

  we’d all have to leave, and she’s asking him to drive us. No,

  he says, we’re settled here. I like these fireworks. She says,

  I don’t mean the whole family. I mean, some kids I know are going,

  and they asked me to go. What kids? Whose parents are driving?

  When would you get home? Oh, boy. What is Dad doing,

  interrogating Abi like this, while her new friends (and TJ)

  are listening to the whole thing? In the end, Dad won’t let her

  go, and they leave without her, so of course she’s in a bad mood.

  The twins snuggle up to her, and that seems to make her feel better.

  Stormy Weather

  Claire

  Today is a rainy, stay-in-the-cabin, cozy kind of day.

  Abi and Pam have a big jigsaw puzzle going.

  Pam finds a piece of waterfall that fits, and Abi cheers

  her on. Dad gives Abi his proud “you are growing

  up” look—I’m not sure why. Maybe he likes how

  Abi is including Pam. He gives my shoulder a squeeze

  as I sit down at the table and then he flips a pancake

  onto my plate. Outside the window, tall birch trees

  bend and sway in the wind. Looks like it’s settling in

  for a day or two, says Dad. I used to like stormy weather

  when Dad and Abigail and I would stay inside

  and make popcorn and watch movies together.

  But as the day goes on, nothing seems right. I keep

  looking for the missing Mom-chair, or reaching

  for one of her favorite books and remembering

  it isn’t here. Abi has a video that’s teaching

  her to draw people. She refuses to return the looks

  I give her when Pam says something dumb,

  such as: I know! We could make ravioli out of leftover

  lasagna noodles. Abi? Claire? Who wants to come

  and help spread peanut butter between two layers

  of noodles and cut them into squares? She can’t be

  serious. I try to keep a straight face, but then

  Dad asks, Claire, why are you being so grouchy?

  Getting Closer

  Claire

  It’s been raining and windy for two days, and we’re

  feeling cooped up—too many people in this small

  space. Pam is making a blanket for the baby,

  and trying to teach Abi how to crochet, when all

  of a sudden, out of nowhere, she announces,

  They’re getting closer. Is Abi as confused as I am?

  Dad jumps up from the table—he seems to know

  what Pam means. I’ll get the car, he says, and Pam

  starts grabbing things. What’s going on? It’s like

  they’ve made a plan to leave us both behind

  if aliens attack, and now the aliens are almost here—

  or something. Umm, Dad? I say. Would you mind

  explaining what’s going on? I’m a little confused.

  He looks at Abi and me and blinks. Oh—

  he says, Sorry, Claire. Pam meant—she’s

  having contractions. We’ve talked about this. You know?

  I stare at him. Okaaay—not aliens—it’s the baby

  who is almost here. Pam asks Dad, Where

  did we put the suitcase I packed and brought from home?

  He finds it in the front closet. Abigail and Claire—

  he says, Pam and I will be at the hospital tonight.

  I’ll ask Mrs. Johnson to stop by, and I’ll call you when the baby

  comes. Abi looks up quickly and says, You don’t have to

  call the Johnsons! And, Dad, she adds, remember? I’m Abi.

  The Johnson Family

  Claire

  An hour and a half after Dad and Pam drive off,

  Mrs. Johnson calls and says Dad phoned her

  when they got to the hospital. Why don’t you girls

  come over here for supper, she offers. I say, Sure,

  what time? When I hang up, Abi glowers at me.

  You could have asked me first. She changes her clothes.

  And then changes them again. And again.

  Tries to cover up a tiny pimple on her nose,

  puts on two layers of lip gloss. It’s just the Johnsons,

  I remind her. Come on—the rain has stopped. Let’s go.

  The minute we walk in the door, Sadie and Sophia

  jump all over Abi, and Devon wants to show

  me some animals he made out of sticks and stones.

  Whatever was annoying Abi seems to be okay.

  But when TJ comes in and says, Hi, Abigail,

  her face starts to get red, and she turns away

  to start playing with the twins again. Is this about

  the “Abi” thing? Does TJ remember that my sister

  changed her name? I say, She’s calling herself Abi now.

  Sophia runs over and pulls me down to whisper,

  TJ probably calls her his girlfriend. What?

  No way. Did Abi hear her say that? If she did,

  she’s trying to ignore it. Mrs. Johnson says, Claire,

  could you help Sadie set the table? She lifts a lid

  from something that smells wonderful, and brings

  it to the table just as Mr. Johnson brings in a plate

  of hamburgers and veggies from the grill. TJ pours

  lemonade in our glasses, and we sit down to eat.

  I love this family. We tal
k about the baby coming,

  and Sadie blurts out, We’re getting one too, next year.

  Mrs. Johnson shushes her, but smiles. Yes, she says,

  your baby and ours can play together when you’re up here.

  I say, You mean their baby. Pam and Dad’s, not mine

  and Abi’s. She starts to answer, but then Devon spills

  his lemonade, and by the time TJ helps him clean up

  the mess, the meal is almost over. Mrs. Johnson fills

  a bag with food she thinks we’ll like, and gives

  it to us to take home. We don’t need it, I say.

  They’ll be home tomorrow. And Abi says, We’re good.

  But Mrs. Johnson gives it to us anyway,

  and says, Call anytime if you need anything. I mess up

  Devon’s hair a little, hug the twins. TJ shoots a glance

  at Abi, but she’s halfway down the path. He looks like

  he wanted to say good night, and missed his chance.

  Shut Up About TJ

  Claire

  When we’re walking home, I say,

  You weren’t very nice to TJ, and Abi snaps,

  Just shut up about TJ! What? I haven’t

  said anything else about him. That’s

  the entire conversation. It makes me wonder

  about what Sophia said. Does TJ want

  Abi to be his girlfriend? That would be … different.

  But since Abi is already acting mad, I don’t

  ask more questions. Right after we get home,

  Dad calls to let us know there’s no news

  yet about the baby. How long does this usually

  take? I ask, and he says, No one ever knows,

  sometimes just a few hours, but it can take a whole day

  or even longer. Are you sure you’re okay on your own?

  We assure him that we’re fine. And we mean it.

  At least I do. In a way, it’s fun to be home alone.

  Abi goes into our room and shuts the door.

  I think she might be sleeping, so I open

  the door carefully, just trying to be quiet, not

  sneaking up on her or anything. But when I go in,

  I see something that is either odd or pathetic

  or—I decide this is it—very funny.

  My sister is standing by the window

  in the starlight, kissing Benjamin Bunny.

  Speaking in the Dark