“I guess I thought things were going to be different between us this summer,” he continues. “Like, I came with all these plans, that just the two of us would hang out, but then you didn’t want any part of that.”
“That’s not true,” I say quietly.
“It is.” He scratches his cheek, classic Bennett nervousness. He doesn’t get nervous often, but when he does, it’s really obvious. “I had to force you into the swimming lessons. And every time I ask if you want to pick up the dogs together, you make some excuse. And you’re so busy talking to Calvin all the time that you ignore me.”
“I came to Seagate this summer thinking the same things you did. I spent all year thinking about you.”
“You did?” he asks hopefully.
“Yes. But then I realized I need you to be my friend,” I say. “That’s really what’s most important to me.”
“Well, what changed?”
I try to think of how to explain it. “I don’t know what changed. I guess I just like us being us, the way we’ve always been. It’s what feels natural to me. I don’t want that to change. Not even a tiny bit. Everything seems to be changing around us … I guess I’d like for our friendship to stay the same. It’s one of my favorite things about my summers at Seagate.”
Bennett nods slowly, as if understanding.
But there’s something else I need to say. “If you like me so much, then why did you tell Calvin to go for it when he told you he liked me?”
He shakes his head, frustrated. “Okay, first of all, I don’t know how you know that. And second of all, what was I going to say? He’s my friend, too.”
“I know,” I say.
“Besides, I thought you liked me, so it didn’t matter if Calvin liked you,” Bennett says.
“I do like you, Bennett. I like you as a friend. You’ll always be my friend. Okay?”
“Okay.” He gets up and turns his Mets cap brim from front to back. “Talk to you later, Remy.”
I watch him walk down the steps of my front porch, the way I’ve watched him so many times before. And I know he’s not leaving for good, but for some reason it feels that way.
I stay out on the front porch until Dad comes and tells me that it’s dinnertime and I should get excited because this frittata is going to be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.
Amazing frittata or not, I don’t have the heart to tell him that I’m not hungry.
The next day, it feels as if everyone is ignoring me at Dog Beach.
Everyone but the dogs. They’re still happy to see me, jumping up to give me kisses, wagging their tails, running in circles around me.
And Lester stays by my side the whole day. We had this long chat after the Larry Park performance, and he’s been running away less. I guess his owner was right—he really does understand English. Sometimes owners say things about their dogs, and we listen and smile, but we don’t believe them. But in this case, Lester’s dog-dad was right.
Lester needed someone to understand him, and I guess I’m that person. I’m not sure the cocker spaniel understands me as well as my last dog, Danish, did, or as well as Marilyn Monroe does, but he sure comes close.
It also seems as if Calvin knows that something’s up but doesn’t know what, exactly, or what to do. I’m not sure how he can seem so in tune and smart sometimes and other times seem completely clueless or distant.
“Hey,” he says, sitting at the edge of my lounge chair. Lester is on one side of me, and Marilyn Monroe is on the other, and I’m staring at the ocean, letting my mind wander.
“Hey,” I reply.
“So, listen, I need to talk to you. I think Micayla told you that I liked you. And, no matter how you feel, I just don’t want anything to get weird,” he says, picking at the skin near his thumbnail.
I sit up. “You haven’t made anything weird.”
He nods halfheartedly. “Yeah, but we’re a group of friends, and you and Bennett have your own thing going on, and I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”
“You’re not in the middle. And Bennett and I don’t have anything going on.”
“You don’t?”
“No. But you’re a person, too, Calvin. You can have your own feelings and opinions. Why don’t you tell me how you feel?”
“I like you,” he says.
“And I like you, Calvin,” I say. This is a rare moment when I’m not second-guessing what I’m saying. “I like talking to you. And I like listening to you talk. I like hanging out with you.”
“Okay.” He smiles. “Me too.”
I laugh. “It’s good you like spending time with yourself.”
“You know what I mean,” he scoffs. “I like all of those things about you.”
I say, “Okay, good.”
Then Calvin kneels down and says, “Lester, want to come play Frisbee?” Lester’s on a leash attached to my lounge chair. He looks at Calvin and then turns away. “C’mon. Join the fun.” He frees Lester’s leash.
Finally the cocker spaniel agrees and follows Calvin over to the other dogs.
I get all the midmorning treats ready and play back that conversation in my head. So, Calvin and I like each other.
Now what?
Bennett is across the beach, giving Potato Salad a belly rub. For a few seconds, our eyes meet. He shrugs. I shrug.
It seems that we’re having a conversation with our eyes, but I’m not entirely sure what we’re talking about.
All I want to know is that everything is okay between us, that no matter what happens, everything will work out. That we’ll always be Bennett and Remy. A friendship that started at the very beginning and went on forever.
I wonder if that’s too much to ask. Maybe life is a series of events, and you can’t know if things are always going to be okay. It’s just one more thing I can’t plan for.
I’m walking Atticus and Rascal home when Claire comes up behind me. “Here’s the thing.” She sniffles. Sometimes she jumps right in and starts conversations in the middle. I guess that’s what happens when you know someone will listen.
I’m not entirely sure what I’m expecting her to say, and my stomach twists with anticipation.
“I feel like the whole world around me is just going on as if nothing has happened.”
I nod, so she’ll know I understand what she’s saying.
“It doesn’t seem fair.” Tears trickle down her cheeks; she rubs them away with her palms. “How can the world just go on like normal when my parents aren’t together anymore?”
I know she’s not really asking me for the answer. But it feels as if I should know it. I wish I did.
“It seems like everything should stop,” I say. “Like no one should have the chance to be happy ever again.” I look at her. “Right?”
She sobs. “Right.”
“Like everyone in the entire world should know how bad you’re feeling. And it doesn’t make sense that everything around you seems exactly the way it was before all this happened.”
She sobs and sobs and sobs. “I’m so sad, Remy! I don’t want it to be this way.”
I put my arm around her and we walk that way for a while. I think about what Mr. Brookfield said: One foot in front of the other. Eventually you will get somewhere. And even though I’m not saying anything, I feel as if I’m helping a little. I listen to the soft patter of our flip-flops on the pavement, moving forward, and I know that together we will get somewhere.
The Seagate Centennial Summer celebration is three days away, and the whole island is excited. At least that’s how it feels to me.
All the Adirondack chairs have been taken off the lawn by the ferry terminal to make room for the carnival rides and booths. The temporary stage has been set up way back on the lawn. It’s perfect, really. That way everyone who’s watching the performances also has a view of the ocean.
Mrs. Pursuit asks all the volunteers to meet her there so she can discuss how everything will work.
On my walk over, I think abo
ut what I’m going to say to Calvin. Maybe I should tell him that I don’t know what to do now that we like each other. Or maybe I should ask him if he wants to go to Sundae Best this afternoon. Or is that too much like a date? Whatever. There’s never a wrong time for ice cream.
When I get to the lawn and sit down on the grass with the rest of the volunteers, I turn around every few minutes to see if Calvin’s coming up the path. But there’s no sight of him. Did he forget? I check my phone. Nothing. Maybe he thinks I can handle getting all the information and that I’ll tell him about it later.
Finally Mrs. Pursuit starts the meeting. She hands out a little map of where everything’s going to be on the lawn and asks if we have any last-minute changes.
“Hi.” Bennett plops down on the grass next to me. He’s out of breath.
“Oh, hi,” I say.
He starts scratching and scratching a mosquito bite on his ankle. “Calvin’s stuck at home. Something about his mom having a rough morning. She had another fight over the phone with his dad.” He squints. “So he asked if I could come and get the information for him.”
“Oh.” A tiny part of me sinks like one of those weighted rings we throw to the bottom of the pool, only to have to swim way down to get it. I wonder why Calvin didn’t ask me to get the information.
“It’s okay, Remy.” Bennett laughs. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” I say a bit defensively.
“So the rides will be brought in tomorrow, the booths will be put in place after that, and you’re welcome to set up your booth any way you’d like,” Mrs. Pursuit says. “Be creative! I know you will be. Seagaters always are.” She looks down at her papers and then back up at the crowd. “I think that’s about it. Go enjoy the sunshine. Oh, one other thing. Is Remy Boltuck here?”
I stand up and wave. “I’m here.” My nervous laugh squeaks out.
“Great. Anything we need to know about the performances?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. We’re all set.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
After that, everyone mills about, chatting and discussing plans for their booths.
“So, you and Calvin are really running a wedding booth?” Bennett asks me, standing up and brushing the grass off the butt of his shorts.
I nod and stay sitting for a few more seconds.
“Kind of weird, no?” he asks, looking down at me.
“Well, yeah,” I admit, and I finally stand up. “He suggested it. I guess it was on his mind because of the situation with his parents. And he saw one at a carnival once and thought it was kind of funny.”
“Oh. Got it.”
“I’m going to pick up Marilyn Monroe at my house, then Lester and Oreo,” I tell him. “See you at Dog Beach?”
“Yup.”
Even though we’ve kind of said goodbye, we keep walking together, which feels a little awkward.
“Why do you look so worried?” Bennett asks.
“I do?” Now I’m all self-conscious. As if he told me that the back of my dress was stuck in my underwear.
“Yes.”
“I feel like you’re mad at me,” I say. “And I really hate that feeling.”
He groans. “I’m not mad at you. Come on.”
“See? Now you’re mad at me because I think you’re mad at me.”
He shakes his head, half frustrated, half amused. “Seriously. Stop.”
I know I’m annoying him. But sometimes even when you know you’re annoying someone, you can’t stop doing it.
“I just didn’t want to lose what we had.” I keep talking, even though I know I should stay quiet. “I was trying so hard to keep everything the same that I actually made it different.”
“You can’t stop things from changing, Remy.”
“So then why do you still seem annoyed at me?”
“Because I like you. As more than a friend.” Even though he’s talking about something nice, the words come out sounding snarly. “Because I’m annoyed that you wouldn’t give us a chance, just because you were worried about losing our friendship.”
I don’t respond. He has a point, but I’m not sure I agree with him.
“My mom was always so scared of losing this ring she loved that she never wore it. She kept it at home in her dresser drawer,” he tells me. “It was the stupidest thing ever. What’s the point of even having the ring if it stays in a drawer?”
I think I understand what he’s saying. “That’s pretty dumb,” I mumble. “And your mom’s a smart lady.”
“Sometimes you have to take a chance,” he says.
“You’re right,” I say.
“I’m mad that you wouldn’t give us a chance. And I still like you. Like you, like you, I mean. But I’ll always be your friend. No matter what.”
After a few moments of silence, we start to walk in different directions to pick up all the dogs. I keep thinking about what Bennett said. I didn’t want to give him a chance, because what if it all fell apart and we lost what we had? But I know in my heart that there’s another reason, too. I started to like Calvin. And you can’t always help who you like. It just sort of happens to you. The same way you can’t help who your parents are, and if they stay married or if they get divorced.
There’s so much that we don’t have any control over.
And that just seems so hard.
I look up at the sky, half expecting to see storm clouds looming in the distance.
On the way to Dog Beach, I stop at Mornings to pick up some croissants. We all need some cheering up, especially Calvin and Claire.
I place the croissants on one of the lounge chairs and let all the dogs off their leashes. Well, except for Lester, who’s acting feisty today.
“Who’s on Lester duty?” Micayla asks.
“I guess me.” I smile. “We seem to get each other.”
“That makes sense,” Micayla replies. “You both kind of like running away.”
I think about her words, but I’m not totally convinced she’s right. “I know I avoid change, but I haven’t been running away as much lately. I’ve actually been opening up about my feelings. Especially with Calvin. Don’t you think so?”
“Kind of.” She pulls up the lounge next to me and lies down. We watch Calvin and Bennett in the ocean with the dogs for a while. Every few seconds we see Oreo’s black and white body pop up from the water.
His swimming has really improved.
“What do you mean, kind of?” I ask.
She waits a few seconds to talk. “Well, I still feel like you’re avoiding how you really feel about Bennett.”
“Stop already, Mic.” Frustration seeps out, even though I don’t want it to. “My feelings changed. I can’t help it.”
“So then it’s fine for me to like him?”
It should be fine, but it’s not. And I have no idea what to do about that.
“Why aren’t you answering me?” she asks.
“Because I don’t know what to say,” I admit. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t seem fine to me. But I don’t know why.”
She shakes her head and gets up to go help Calvin and Bennett with the dogs. Tabby and Potato Salad are growling at each other.
“Hey,” Claire says, holding Ritzy in her arms. “Someone forgot to pick her up today.”
“Oops.” I look over the schedule. “It was me.”
“I know,” Claire scoffs. “You’re too busy thinking about my brother and not focusing on your responsibilities.”
Her words sting.
“Sorry.” I refill the water bowls, mostly so I don’t have to look at Claire. I know I messed up, but she doesn’t have to be so mean about it.
She puts Ritzy down and gives me an angry look. “Honestly, Remy, I love you, but it’s hard to be around you right now.”
“What? Why?”
“You like my brother and he likes you.” She scowls. “It’s not okay. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t plan it like this
,” I admit. “Honestly.”
“So what? That doesn’t change it. How come everything has to change around me, and I have to just go along with it?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, even though I’m not sure I am.
“Uh-huh.” She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” She walks off and joins the others, too.
How can Micayla and Claire both be so angry with me on the same morning?
Later that day, after all the dogs are home, I turn around with Marilyn Monroe and head to Daisy’s for a treat, just the two of us. It’s drizzling, but I don’t even bother to take an umbrella. I’ve gotten so used to the rain this summer that I barely feel it anymore.
“We need some quality time,” I tell Mari. “Right?”
She yips.
I get her one of Daisy’s specialties, the doggie fruit salad: crunchy pieces of kibble in the shape of different fruits. She loves it. And I get a strawberry smoothie. We stay there for a while, hanging out, just the two of us.
“Everyone hates me,” I whine to her.
She whimpers and goes back to her doggie fruit salad.
“I guess I messed up,” I say. “It’s weird to like your friend’s brother.”
Mari finishes her fruit salad and hops up into my lap while we wait for the check.
“It’s easier to be a dog,” I tell her. “Humans make things all complicated.”
She nuzzles my neck and gives me a million doggie-lick kisses. Maybe she’s saying that she thinks being a human is pretty great. Or maybe she’s saying that dog life really is better. Or maybe she’s simply the only one who understands me.
Calvin and I make a plan to meet at the grassy lawn to help set up. He’s the only one in the group who’s not mad at me at the moment, and I’m excited to spend some one-on-one time with him.
It’s a little weird that we had that whole “we like each other” talk and then haven’t hung out since. Maybe he doesn’t know what to do about it, either. It’s not as if there’s any rule book to follow or anything. There’s no way to prepare for these feelings.
On my walk over, the whole island feels off. There aren’t many people around. I chalk that up to the fact that they’re probably already busy setting up booths, or they’re home preparing for the big day. Or maybe it’s the weather.
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