East Coast Girls

by Kerry Kletter

  Hannah moved back into the room she shared with Maya, climbed under the covers and stared into the swell of darkness. She wondered what it would be like to go on a date again, if it was as daunting as it seemed. Not that she’d ever go on one. She just wondered.

  * * *

  In the morning she heard Blue tiptoe in and then bang her knee on the edge of the bed. “Ow!” Blue hissed.

  Hannah sat up.

  “Sorry!” Blue said. “I was just seeing if you were awake.” Her shoulders were drooped, her expression like a basset hound. “I’m so humiliated.”

  Maya stirred, sat up yawning. “What time is it?” She looked between Hannah and Blue.

  “I’m having flashbacks of what an asshole I was to Jack,” Blue groaned.

  “Hey now,” Maya said. “Some girls play hard to get. You were playing hard to like. It’s just a twist.”

  Hannah and Blue stared at her.

  “I’m just saying maybe he likes the challenge,” Maya said. “Sheesh.”

  “I think I’m going to throw up again,” Blue said suddenly, sprinting out of the room.

  A moment later there was banging on the bathroom door. “Renee,” Blue said. “Open up, I’m gonna hurl.” A pause. “Are you puking in there?”

  Hannah and Maya exchanged a look. They heard the thunder of feet down the stairs, the front door flinging open, Blue running out. The guttural bleat of retching coming from both inside the house and outside it.

  “Is Blue...in the driveway?” Hannah asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe the front lawn?” Maya said.

  They listened more closely.

  “Driveway,” Maya said. “You can hear it hitting the pebbles.”

  Hannah gagged.

  From the bathroom, a loud retch from Renee.

  Maya turned to Hannah. “This reminds me of that time we ate that bad chicken and—”

  “We don’t need to talk about that.”

  Renee emerged from the bathroom and appeared in the doorway looking pale. “Pregnancy,” she said. “All of the hangover, none of the booze.”

  Hannah patted the bed and Renee sat.

  “So...” Maya said.

  “So...” Renee said.

  “You really are pregnant,” Hannah said.

  “It would seem so,” Renee said with a sigh. Her eyes were glassy from vomiting or sadness or both.

  “And that asshole is cheating on you,” Maya said. “I could’ve told you all Darrins are dirtbags.”

  “You said they’re all good in bed,” Hannah pointed out.

  “From all the cheating,” Maya said as if it was obvious. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  Renee shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I wanted you guys to think I was...who I wished I was. Surprise! I’m a failure at everything.”

  “Him being a cheat has nothing to do with you,” Hannah said.

  “Part of me knows that,” Renee said. “The other part of me—the part of me that wants to fix it and stay with him, I guess—is unconvinced. I know that should be a no-brainer but...nothing ever feels that simple when you love someone. Pathetic, huh?”

  “Very,” Maya said.

  “Says the girl who’s losing her house,” Hannah pointed out.

  “I like to think of it as giving the house to a bank in need,” Maya said.

  “Hey, what happened to Blue?” Hannah said.

  They listened. Silence.

  “Blue!” Maya called.

  Still nothing.

  They got up, went to her last known location in the driveway. The elderly couple across the way saw them searching and pointed politely to a body in the grass.

  The girls approached Blue, who was lying on her back, one arm strung over her eyes. “Who’s up for breakfast?” she said, without moving.

  “Not you,” Hannah said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re light green.”

  “But she was forest green a half hour ago,” Maya pointed out. “Also, I have bad news.”

  Blue squinted up at her.

  “We have tickets for the whale watch in an hour.”

  MAYA

  Maya insisted they make a quick stop at the farmers market for breakfast just as they’d done twelve years before. There they browsed the kaleidoscope of shiny fruits picked from nearby fields, sampled the thick loaves of butter-brushed bread and gourmet jellies in homemade jars, ogled the chocolate scones and crumble-crust pies, everything fresh and sweet, the tastes of summer. They made their selections, and Maya coerced Blue into buying her an everything bagel with cream cheese. Then they all sat cross-legged on the grass, people watching amid the bustle of morning traffic in town.

  Mostly they were quiet, letting the day wake them slowly, fixed on their coffee and food. Maya noticed Blue holding her fist to her mouth as if she might be sick again.

  “Blue, eat something,” Maya said.

  She held out a piece of her bagel. Blue glanced down. Suddenly her eyes bulged and her cheeks ballooned like a pufferfish.

  “Oh no,” Maya said, yanking the bagel away.

  Blue’s face settled back. “False alarm.”

  “You’re in bad shape, my friend,” Maya said, but Blue wasn’t listening. She was staring off into the distance, her mind carried elsewhere.

  Maya followed her gaze to a quaint old restaurant across the street with a for-sale sign on the front.

  “I used to love that place,” Blue said wistfully. “Best fried shrimp ever. And Nana always let me order two desserts. Can’t believe they’re selling it. The hipsters will probably turn it into a bowling alley.”

  “Or something French and overpriced,” Hannah said as she peeled a banana and took a bite.

  “Or a fedora shop,” Renee said.

  “The freaking fedoras,” Maya said. “What is with that?”

  “Literally no one looks good in a fedora,” Renee said.

  “I mean, I do,” Maya said. “But I get your point.”

  “What they should really do is turn it into a bar,” Blue said. “There’re no good divey bars in town.” As soon as she said it, she gagged again.

  “Maybe not a good time to be thinking about alcohol,” Maya said. “What time is it?” She grabbed Renee’s wrist to check her watch. “Crap! We gotta go.”

  They gathered their trash, fled back to the car. Blue trailed them, one arm covering her eyes, the other outstretched to ward off the sun. “I’m going to die,” she moaned repeatedly to no one in particular.

  Maya took Old West Lake Drive to the docks, passing the sleepy bay, the wind soft through the open windows, the morning light wan and tired as a mother before coffee.

  “Look,” she said as they passed Surf Lodge. “Scene of the crime.”

  “Ugh,” Blue said, without looking. “Kill me.”

  Maya and Hannah exchanged pitying glances in the rearview mirror.

  “I have aspirin if you need it,” Hannah said, rifling through her purse and showing Blue the bottle.

  “Got anything for self-loathing?” Blue asked.

  Hannah seemed to consider this, handed her a pastry.

  The air changed as they neared the docks, salt thickened and fishy. They passed the bait and tackle shops, the dilapidated restaurant where old local fishermen hunched over the dark bar to day drink.

  Maya parked in the lot and then they dashed toward the boats, their beach bags bouncing, their flip-flops nipping at their heels.

  “Too much running!” Blue groaned as she pulled up the rear.

  Soon the old wooden planks were underfoot, the bay sloshing and slurping beneath them, the squawk and glide of seagulls overhead.

  Just ahead of Maya, Hannah stopped abruptly to gape at an enormous, lifelike great white shark hanging by the entrance, its jaws
open, mouth painted blood red. “Uh...”

  “Cool!” Maya said, dragging Hannah along before she could have second thoughts. “I hope we see a live one today. Look! There she is!” She pointed at an old white boat with aqua trim bobbing and creaking against the timbers, the words Viking Star painted across the cabin. It was already loaded with tourists in beach gear and binoculars, a scrawny teenage deckhand untying the line from the docks.

  “Wait!” Maya called to him just as they reached the boat.

  He paused, held out his palm, eyed them impatiently. “Tickets,” he said.

  Hannah bit her lip, looked nervously out at the water. “Is it safe?” she asked.

  “Put it this way,” he said. “If you were actively trying to die, whale watching probably wouldn’t be an efficient way to do that.”

  Maya laughed. “I like you. Are you single?”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “He’s twelve, Maya,” Renee said as she handed him her ticket.

  “Seventeen,” he corrected her indignantly.

  “I can’t personally think of a more efficient way to die today than whale watching,” Blue said, shuffling up behind them, her face scrunched with misery. “Bury me at sea, please.”

  “It would be an act of compassion,” Maya said to the deckhand. She turned to Blue. “I’m not convinced you’re not already dead. I’ve seriously never seen anyone that color before. Your face is like a mood ring the way you go from green to gray.”

  “What mood is this?” Blue said, holding up her middle finger.

  Renee laughed, looked sympathetically at Blue. “You sure you want to go? It’s only a four-hour wait in the car.”

  Blue gave a thumbs-up. Continued her slow death march onto the boat.

  Suddenly Maya felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned.

  “Looking for me?” he said.

  It took a second for her brain to catch up to the skip in her heart. “Holy shit. Andy!”

  The night came back to her in a rush—her chest pressed against his strong back as they rode on his motorcycle, the two of them lying side by side beneath a ceiling of stars, tumbling together into the swimming pool—that blissful, scary suspension of the fall. The way his kiss felt a little bit like love.

  A small, feathery spin in her stomach. And with it, surprisingly, a swell of relief. Like a wrong had been righted, an unnatural separation fixed.

  “What are you doing here?” She was nervous. Which she never was. She ran her hand self-consciously through her hair, remembered she hadn’t combed it before she left.

  “I work here,” he said. He stepped up to her, just close enough into her space that she could feel the way he towered over her. She looked into his eyes, acutely aware of her body’s desire to breach the inches between them. “I was hoping you knew that and came looking for me.”

  “We’re looking for whales, actually,” she said.

  But he was staring at her and she was staring at him and it seemed like words were in the way and neither of them were really listening.

  Crap, she really liked him.

  He leaned in closer. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “You would have missed me,” she said.

  “I already did.”

  She smiled, looked away.

  “Guess this means fate has decided,” he said.

  “Could be coincidence,” she said with a shrug.

  “Hey, lady,” the deckhand called. “You in or out?”

  Andy arched an eyebrow. “Good question,” he said. “You in or you out?”

  She smiled, called to the deckhand, her eyes still on Andy.

  “In,” she said.

  Andy grinned. Time stopped. Just for a minute.

  “You should probably give me your number,” he said.

  “We’re leaving in the morning.”

  “You’ll be back.”

  She laughed at his confidence. “Give me your phone.”

  She put her number in.

  “Okay, then,” she said.

  “Okay, then,” he said.

  They gazed at each other for one more lingering moment and then she hopped onto the Viking Star and blew him a kiss.

  She joined her friends at the stern as Andy stood watching. The deckhand threw the coil of ropes onto the dock and the boat rocked and bounced off the old tires on the pilings. Hannah grabbed Maya’s hand nervously and squeezed.

  There was a sudden swirl of white water as the motor purred, growing into a frothing wake. The diesel engines hummed, low at first as the boat moved slowly from the dock and then changing pitch as the captain hit the throttle. The horn blew as they slid into open water, the white sun flashing on the ocean. The wind picked up as the shore receded, Andy on the docks growing smaller, waving one last time before walking away. Something in Maya’s chest fizzed, reached back to him like the boat’s wake.

  They moved starboard, their faces pitched toward the sea. Hannah took a deep breath, let go of Maya’s hand.

  “You all right?” Maya said.

  Hannah clutched the rails. “Trying to tell myself this is fun,” she said. “Like falling down the ski hill stoned. What about you? You’re looking a little flush.” She laughed at her own teasing, her hair whipping across her face as the boat picked up more speed.

  Maya scoffed, tried to make her smile smaller. It seemed so embarrassingly big.

  “You always get the guy,” Blue said, staring queasily into the water. “It would probably make me sick but—” she paused as the boat heaved over a small swell, looked like she might retch into the ocean “—I already am.”

  “Please,” Maya said. “I never want the guy. I’m a free bird, baby.” But she didn’t feel free. She felt the tug of longing, of Andy back on the docks, pulling her into port. She was surprised by how nice it was. How much it caught her off guard, introduced her to a part of herself she didn’t know was in there.

  “I remember that feeling,” Hannah said, reading her thoughts.

  Their eyes met. Hannah smiled lovingly, but Maya could see the sadness.

  She wanted to say something, to apologize, to take back everything that had just happened with Andy so Hannah wouldn’t have to see it, be reminded of what she’d lost.

  “I’m gonna hurl,” Blue said suddenly. She ran off the deck, pushing sightseers out of the way with such force that Maya pictured them being thrust overboard in her wake.

  The other three looked at one another.

  “I’ll go,” Renee said.

  “Guess we won’t be seeing her again this trip,” Maya said as she watched Blue disappear down the stairs, Renee at her heels.

  She turned back to see Hannah headed toward the ship’s bow in her big sun hat and glasses. She seemed determined, white-knuckling the rails as she went, passing a mother and her toddler feeding bread crumbs to the seagulls. The birds glided along at the boat’s pace, dive-bombing to snatch the crust out of the kid’s hand as he squealed in fearful delight.

  Maya watched Hannah reach the front, square herself against the expanse of ocean as if issuing a challenge. She saw her lift her face to the sun as she held her hat. There was something so poignant and solitary and heroic about her in that moment. At this distance Maya could see the whole of her—how the bubbly feeling inside Maya once belonged to Hannah: romance, innocence, hope, all taken in an instant. Hannah turned as if she could sense Maya watching her. She smiled and waved. Look at me! she seemed to say. I’m doing it! Maya smiled back, felt a pang. She forced herself to forget about Andy, put him away. She had to.

  She joined Hannah at the bow.

  “It’s so pretty out here,” Hannah said.

  The salty wind pattered their faces, the boat cutting across the sparkling water like scissors on a cloth.

  “When I saw you before with Andy,”
Hannah said, “it reminded me of how good life can be. Like, not just pleasant or fun but that really euphoric good, you know? That juicy...” She reached out her hands as if trying to grab at something. “I don’t know...center of it all.” She laughed. “What am I trying to say? I’m babbling. Just maybe that I’d forgotten that.”

  Maya stared out over the ocean. She didn’t know how to respond. It didn’t feel right that she got to have the juicy part.

  “I thought I was protecting myself. Being so conscious of all the bad things that could happen,” Hannah said. “But I’m beginning to think that anxious voice in my head isn’t even mine. It’s those men. It’s like they’re everywhere, around every corner in my brain, dangling a new fear, saying, ‘We’re out there. We’re going to get you again.’”

  Maya turned. She could feel Hannah’s eyes behind her sunglasses, searching her face.

  Hannah gave her a small smile, looked out on the water, let go of the rails. “I know I shouldn’t be talking about it. That we don’t talk about it. It’s just... I’ve been waiting for them to go away. I think I secretly hoped that if I just came here, if I...stepped out of my comfort zone, they would stop. But I get now that they’re not going to. I just have to know what they are, live over them, in defiance of them. Be brave, I guess.”

  The boat lifted over a wave and Hannah squealed and reached out desperately to clutch the rails again, which made them both laugh.

  Maya wondered if she herself had ever been brave. She always thought she was, but then, life never felt as hard for her. She glanced back at the dock but it had slipped out of sight, only open sea in every direction. She imagined Andy standing exactly where she’d left him, waiting for her return. It wouldn’t work anyway, she thought. Long distance relationships never do.

  Renee found them at the bow. “Blue’s begging everyone who walks by to throw her overboard,” she said.

  “That’ll teach her not to binge drink,” Maya said.

  “I think that’s only half of what’s making her sick,” Renee said.

  They all got quiet.

  “Well,” Renee said. “See any whales?”