The Swap

by Megan Shull

Pulling out of the Sportsplex, I feel like I’m leaving everything behind. My worries about my dad, about hockey. I don’t know why, but I feel a hundred pounds lighter. The day is warm for September. The sun is bright. Summer has these glamorous big, black oversized sunglasses on, and all the windows are down. Red hair is blowing all over the place. Hers and mine. Leaping up and dancing as the wind blows past us. Summer reaches out, pushing a button on the dashboard.

  “Let’s open the sunroof and get this party started!”

  Her hand moves to the stereo. She turns the volume up until I can actually feel the vibrations moving through my body.

  “Who is this?” I ask through the wind, over the music.

  “What?” Summer shouts back, and we both start hysterically laughing, because our hair is going crazy and all the windows are down and I can’t hear a word she’s saying over the sounds.

  “Who is this?” I repeat, louder, through my laughter. Summer’s red hair is swept up and flying behind her like a cape. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the side of the car. My hair—Elle’s—is flying too. I smile really big. The air feels so good.

  “Who is this?” Summer laughs. This time I can hear her. “You know, silly!”

  “I do?” I’m practically shouting.

  Summer shoots me a grin. “The Beatles!”

  We turn into a gravel parking lot full of cars. The sign says LUNA’S in three-foot-high red scripty letters. The building is kind of a shack, with one of those window counters. But if it’s a shack, it’s a popular one. We walk across the pebbly lot toward the line of people stretching down around the corner of the building: moms, dads, babies in strollers, sleepy college kids, old people. We fall in line too.

  “This place must be good,” I say, excited.

  Summer props up her sunglasses, pulls me in, and kisses me on the head. “Must be? You headed too many balls out there today, silly! We’ve only come here a hundred times.”

  “Oh, yeah, right,” I say.

  “So are you getting the usual?” she asks.

  “Yeah.” I nod. “The usual.”

  I hope the usual is something good, I think to myself, as we get closer to the front of the line. I know it’s crazy, but I’m already hungry again. Starving. And my stomach kind of hurts.

  “What about you?” I ask Summer.

  She winks. “Oh, you know my thing.”

  I nod and laugh again, stepping forward to the walk-up window.

  “Hey, Summer!” says the girl. Her face lights up when her eyes land on Summer. The girl is kind of short and pudgy, with a sparkly diamond in her nose. “Hi, Ellie!”

  “Hi.” I grin back. I love how everyone loves Summer. She has this way of making everyone around her feel special. Something about her energy, it’s almost impossible to describe. She just has so much life in her. I watch her step up to the window, and I feel kind of proud. For this second, it’s like—she’s with me. She’s my mom.

  “Ellie, you remember Janie Tate, right? She babysat you.”

  Janie Tate blushes. “Well, that was a long time ago,” she tells me, with a big smile. “But you sure were one cute baby! You used to have the most precious little baby-doll ears!” She pauses. “What can I get you two mamacitas?”

  Summer puts her arm around my shoulders. “I’m going to have a coffee, dark roast, thanks, and yes, I will definitely get a vanilla ice cream cone. And you?” Summer looks at me. Janie Tate’s waiting with her pen and pad.

  “Um, I’ll have, uh—” I stall. I scan the menu up above the window.

  “French fries, please, and, uhhh, a vanilla milkshake?”

  Summer pulls me in tight, her voice tickles in my ear. “Same order every single time. We’re two totally predictable peas in a pod.”

  Ha. I guess Elle and I think alike.

  It only takes, like, a minute. “Here you go,” says Janie Tate, handing Summer her coffee and her cone. “And for Ellie.” She hands me my shake with a straw and a ridiculously huge paper basket of crispy, hot, golden fries.

  Summer lingers at the window. “You want some vinegar, too, right, hon?”

  “Sure, yes, please!” I grin. That’s totally a Canadian hockey-trip thing. How does she even know that! I think, and shake my head. Vinegar and fries. Best combination ever. I’m not even shocked anymore. Really. This day is getting better by the second.

  It’s hard not to eat in the car. I’m staring at the fries and I want to inhale them. But we have come to an agreement. We are going to wait and get to the “spot.” Wherever that is.

  Summer’s kind of a rebel. She ignores all the rules. She shines me a smile, turns the music up loud, and we barrel down the smooth roads through the sun before finally turning down a long, bumpy dirt lane. Gigantic fields of yellow sunflowers are on either side. I’m kind of in suspense, looking all around. Until—

  “Wow,” I say when I realize where we’re going. Down the hillside, through the tall trees, I can see it right in front of me, stretched out for miles.

  “The lake,” I say aloud in the car, gazing straight ahead.

  I love the lake! It’s cold and deep. My mom used to bring us. Not to here, since I don’t know where “here” even is. Same lake. Just, like—a different spot. My brothers and I would all race to swim out to the raft and play King of the Mountain, shoving each other off a hundred times. Jett and Gunner would pick me up by my feet and my hands and literally have a contest to see how far they could hurl me. Ha! We’d stay out there all day until we were totally sunburned and exhausted. Then my mom would stop for ice cream or pick up Lombardi’s pizza. I don’t mind thinking about those memories. It actually feels good. Lately I’ve been worried that I was starting to forget. Forget, like, the little things.

  We stop at the lake’s shore, because if we drove any farther we’d drive right into the water. I follow Summer down a well-worn dirt path, and in twenty or so steps we are standing together, looking out at an endless stretch of shimmering blue-green water.

  “I like being here,” I say, mesmerized.

  I feel Summer’s hand smooth over my hair. “I love it too, hon. Especially with you.”

  I look around—the water, the faint green hills across the lake in the distance. This is totally the coolest little hidden spot, tucked away. I’d never find it in a million years. I’d never even know it was even here.

  We sit shoulder to shoulder on the warm, smooth rocks, a few feet from the water. Summer’s holding her “mmmmmmm . . . truly amazing cup of coffee.” I’m working on my extra-thick vanilla milkshake.

  The sun is blazing.

  There’s not a cloud in the sky.

  This spot is completely quiet. No sailboats. No Jet Skis. The water is so clear it’s see-through. A giant pool as far as you can see. I dig into the fries and polish off the milkshake. Neither of us says a word. The view is doing the talking.

  I ditch my turf shoes, my shin guards, and peel off my striped pink socks. Summer kicks off her flip-flops, and the two of us lie straight back on the hot stones, our feet dipping into the cool lake water.

  “Feels good.” I sigh.

  “Mmmmm,” agrees Summer. She takes off her shades and shuts her eyes.

  I watch her for a moment, smiling. Then I copy the same pose. The warmth of the sun feels good on my face.

  We lie like that, side by side, solar panels soaking up the heat and the quiet for a long time. And when Summer finally talks, she talks up into the sky. I feel her hand rest on mine. “You know, at some point we’re going to have to talk about last night, right?”

  “Yeah.” I whisper, and open my eyes.

  I watch a hawk, way, way up, soar and swoop over the water.

  “Soooo?” Summer asks again. Her voice is warm. There’s a lightness.

  “Um . . . ,” I start. But . . . what do I even say? This wasn’t about anything she thinks.

  I exhale loudly.

  I feel Summer squeeze my hand. “I see you’re having a hard time starting, so I
’m going to give this a shot,” she says, pausing. “I think this was a little bit about you and Sassy, and a lot about your dad.”

  At first I’m like, wait, how did you know? But then I quickly remember she’s talking about Elle’s dad, as much as I wish she could somehow make me understand mine.

  I keep my face to the sun. I bite down on my lip to stop myself from saying anything dumb.

  “So, yeah, this Sassy thing, I just—” Summer hesitates. I glance at her just as she looks at me. “Honestly, honey—I don’t need to know the details of what happened. All I really care about is that you feel safe. That you know you can talk about anything with me, even when it’s hard.” She smiles softly.

  I look back up into the sky. I shut my eyes.

  “It’s not just middle school,” Summer goes on. “Trying to change other people is a waste of time. It took me a long time to learn that. Figuring out what matters and what doesn’t.” She exhales. “It’s not easy—”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. I think I get it—I didn’t have to beat the snot out of Porter Gibson. I don’t always have to fight.

  “And it’s hard, right, I understand. Believe me. Every bone inside of you wants to take the bait, but when you don’t—it feels so good.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I guess that’s what I did today in soccer?”

  “Exactly! I saw it.”

  I peek at Summer as she’s talking. Her eyes are closed, but she’s smiling. She pauses for a long moment and squeezes my hand. “I want you to know how much I believe in you.”

  I breathe. I don’t even care that’s she’s talking about Elle. I feel this overwhelming attachment to both of them.

  There’s a hushed quiet, then Summer laughs lightly and says, “Not done yet.” Big breath. This time she turns and waits for me to look. “Running away like that. You scared me. That’s not okay. That’s not safe. And—”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. My voice kind of cracks from the lump in my throat.

  “I just—” I start. I don’t even know what to say. I don’t have words.

  “Ellie, honey, it’s okay. I don’t expect you to be perfect. You’re going to make mistakes. My god, you’re twelve years old. I want you to make thousands of them! That’s how you learn, right? That’s how you grow.” Summer smiles softly. Her eyes are so green. She’s like this mixture of wildly rugged and graceful at the same time. The way she talks, the way she listens.

  “You’re such a great kid, honey. I love you so much. I just want you to live your life, and go after your dreams and—” Summer gets really quiet again.

  “For a long time, with your dad—when he left, it happened pretty fast. It was hard. I kind of checked out for a while.”

  Summer stops, and during this pause, suddenly all I can think about is my dad and how much he must miss my mom—I guess I haven’t thought of that.

  Neither of us says anything for a long time.

  “Honey,” says Summer. “I feel tremendous sadness when I think about how much you must miss your dad. When he first left, it didn’t sink in. And . . .” She trails off. She exhales. “I had a hard time accepting it.” Summer tightens her hand around mine. “Sometimes we miss people, and it’s beyond words.”

  All I can think about is my mom. I squeeze my eyes to try to hold back the tears. I turn away, I try to hide it.

  “Oh, honey, pushing away those feelings doesn’t work. Let it out. It’s okay. It’s part of being human.”

  I slowly turn back to Summer. I can’t keep the tears in, and I finally just let them fall. Summer cups her hand against my face. Her smile grows even wider as she looks at me. I watch one lone tear trickle down her freckled cheek. She looks beautiful.

  “Honey, what I want to say too—” She stops, breathes in deep, and sits up.

  I sit up too.

  We both look out at the water.

  “I know it hurts and things change and it’s overwhelming sometimes, but at some point—I simply refused to let what happened between me and your dad stop me from living. I promised myself to live my life as I want to, to say whatever is on my mind, to not let what anyone else thinks stop me. To have fun.” She pauses and wipes the tears running down her cheeks. “Life is precious,” she says, giving me that kick-ass Summer smile through the tears and wrapping both her arms around me in a big huge hug. I adore her. The way she makes me feel. Like everything is going to be okay. Like I can do anything.

  Then, in true Summer style, she suddenly jumps to her feet and exclaims, “What are we doing sitting here! Let’s go swimming!”

  That’s Summer. She can talk you into anything. I don’t even think about it, really. We both strip down to our bras and underwear and run barefoot and squealing into the icy cold water. I think this will be one of my favorite moments ever. Does that sound crazy? With someone I’ve only known for three days? But it feels like forever. We run through the water whooping with joy, crying, and laughing. We dive in and swim out into the deepness.

  51

  ELLE

  WHEN I WAKE UP ON top of Jack’s bed—not under the covers—I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping. And yeah, I’m nervous. I get up and tiptoe along the white strip of tape balance beam and quietly open the door one tiny inch, peering out. I don’t really hear anybody until—

  “Bud,” calls out Jett. “That you, man?”

  What is he, telepathic? I thought I was quiet. My heart kind of leaps. Also? I don’t want The Captain to come up here and yell at me. I quickly shut the door, return to the bed, and do a belly flop, burying my face in the pillow.

  “Bud,” Jett repeats. I glance back at the door. I see him in his glasses, peeking in. “You okay?”

  He walks into the room in his USA Hockey T-shirt and sweats, his eyes all bright, carrying a plate of food and a glass of milk.

  “Dude, do not spill this. You know this is major house rules violation, like—I’m seriously risking my life here.” He stops next to the bed, looking down at me with a huge toothy grin. “Buddy! Good to see that smile. I made you an omelet.” He sets the plate and the glass carefully on Jack’s desk.

  “Thanks,” I answer. “But I’m not really hungry.”

  “Not hungry?” Jett flops right on top of me, pinning me into submission. “You have a game tomorrow, man,” he whispers. “You need fuel for the rocket!”

  He’s playing with me. I get it. I don’t fight it. Jett’s body draped over mine feels like a giant human blanket. Also, I love him. He’s like a big teddy bear with a lot of muscles, and I can’t see his face, but I can tell by his voice he’s trying to cheer me up. Jett always smells good, he smells like . . . the way the shampoo smells when you’re standing in the shower and you pour it out into your hand.

  He digs his elbow into my neck. “C’mon, little man, what’s up, bro? No fight left?” He sits up, laughs softly, and rubs my buzzed head. I watch him stand, walk a few steps, and fall backward like a tree onto Stryker’s bed. I roll over onto my back. We both stare at the ceiling in silence.

  Jett sighs loudly. “How are you feelin’, buddy?”

  I shrug. “Been better.”

  “Listen, bud,” he says. “I don’t know what The Captain said for you to snap like that, but I know what it feels like when you think you’ve let him down.”

  I can see out of the corner of my eyes that he’s watching me from across the room. I don’t look. I keep my eyes on the ceiling.

  “You’re brave, bud. You showed some stones. There’s no shame in that.” Jett pauses for a moment. “You said some stuff that, to be honest, I’ve wanted to say. Not gonna lie. We all have, bro. I usually just keep my mouth shut.”

  I turn and finally look at him. He grins with his eyes. “Look, bud, I’m old enough now to realize this—you just have to accept him for who he is. He’s not gonna change. Not that it makes his crap okay, but—” He pauses for a moment. “He’s hurting too, man. I know we don’t talk about it, but ever since . . . ever since Mom . . .” Jett’s voice w
avers.

  There’s a minute of silence.

  He gets real quiet.

  “I know he can be tough, bud. But everything he does is for us. We’re all he has.”

  I don’t even know what to say back. I never even thought of it like that. I take a really deep breath. We look at each other across the room.

  “Dude.” Jett’s face brightens. “What’d he say to you anyway that got you so heated?”

  “Pretty much he thinks I suck,” I answer.

  Jett laughs. “Well, that sounds real familiar.” He cracks a smile. “He’s told me that before, once or twice. Bud, you should know by now, he’s never satisfied. He’s a maniac. But he’s our dad. He loves you, man.”

  “Well, he has a funny way of showing it.” I mumble that.

  “Dude, it’s like the four of us, man. One minute we’re fighting, the next minute we’re best friends. Shake it off. People are going to say what they’re going to say. Me? I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. I told you, bud, you have to learn to let it roll off you. Be yourself and have fun.”

  “Easy for you to say,” I sigh. “You’re so—”

  “First of all, you’re nuts!” he cuts me off. We exchange a smile. “Second of all.” Jett’s eyes light up. “Dude, when I watch you on the ice . . . I don’t think I have ever seen someone with the kind of talent you have. You can’t teach that. The truth is, you’re better than any of us. That feeling of proving yourself all the time? Use it. Let it drive you. Accept everything outside your control and go harder. Don’t think about tomorrow, just think about right now.”

  My insides kind of leap, and all I can think of is how much I wish Jack was here too. That he could hear this somehow. That he could know.

  Jett gets up, stands, and looks down at me. “Look, man, it happened. It’s over with and—”

  “And what?”

  Jett shrugs it off. “And don’t be a knucklehead. Eat some grub,” he tells me, eyeing the plate of food he brought me. “And let’s go shoot some pucks, little man.”

  “But The Captain, he’ll . . . I mean, aren’t I in trouble?”