“No, they’re fine. I’m just … I don’t really know how to put it. I think I may have alexithymia today. That’s the inability to express feelings through words,” she immediately explains, knowing I won’t have a clue what she’s talking about.
“Well, I’m here if you need anyone one to talk to. You want to walk over to the hiking trail with me?” I ask.
“No!” she says, standing with purpose.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her in as calm a tone as I can even though I’m taken totally off-guard here. I don’t understand why she’s reacting this way.
“I’m not going out there! I’m not!” Margaret begins walking away swiftly before it quickly turns into a jog and then a run. I’m so stunned at how fast this exchange escalated that I don’t respond in enough time to catch her.
“Wait! Margaret! I’m sorry, I …” I call after her as she runs toward the lake. I didn’t mean to upset her. I have to find out what happened. After that first-day encounter with her snobby cabin mates, everything has seemed to be fine. I’ve watched her engage with other kids and look like she was fitting in, but maybe I wasn’t reading things right.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Miller asks, finding me in a bewildered state.
“It’s Margaret. Something happened … I don’t know,” I answer him, shaking my head, still confused by what just transpired.
“Do you want me to …”
“No, no. I’ll find her and talk to her later. I think it’s a girl thing,” I tell him.
“Okay, well … I just wanted to check on you,” he says softly. “Amy told me what happened between you and Addison …” he begins.
“I can’t talk to you about this, Miller,” I say, cutting him off.
“Why not?”
“Because. It’s too …it’s too …”
“It’s too what?” he prompts, stepping forward and catching my eyes with his.
“It’s too … embarrassing.”
Miller thinks for a moment, never unlocking his eyes from mine. “Something is only embarrassing if you’re worried about other people think.”
“So I suppose you never get embarrassed?” I challenge in my nervousness.
“No, I don’t … not anymore. One of the reasons I was never home as a kid was because I was too embarrassed about my parents. I didn’t want people to see my dad treat us all like crap, or my mom so drunk she could barely form a coherent statement. Things had to change for me, and they have to change for you, too, Kinley. Until they do, you’ll spend your life caring about what everyone else thinks, and have no idea what you think.”
“I think for myself!” I raise my voice at his accusation. “Are you saying I can’t think for myself?”
“I know you can, it’s that you won’t!” he counters. “You’re letting the obnoxious, unrealistic worldview of your sister dictate how you feel about yourself.”
“See! I knew if you found out what Addy did you would close yourself off to her even more!”
“I don’t need what she did to you to close me off to her! I don’t want her! When are you going to get that through your thick skull? You are so freaking oblivious!” he shouts.
“Well,” I begin, flustered at how quickly this conversation has escalated. “Addison and I just hit a bump in the road. We’re sisters. It’s happens.” Even as the words leave my mouth I know they aren’t true. What happened with Addison last night is worse than any bump we’ve ever hit before. And even though I know Miller is right, I just can’t bring myself to agree with him in this moment. “My sister loves me. And I feel fine about myself.”
“She’s got a funny way of showing it,” he says, disdain dripping from his lips. “And if the flat-out disrespectful words of your own sister send tears down your face, then you might need to reevaluate what feeling fine about yourself really means. You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for, Kinley. When you see that, when you see all you are … you’ll be poetry.”
Miller leaves me standing there in the grass, his words lingering and echoing in my ears. I search my feelings and look for the words I want to pummel him with, but I’m not angry and I don’t want to pummel him with anything. It’s like a light has been turned on and every time I talk to Miller he pushes the dimmer up a little more. I’m seeing things between Addy and me in a way I never have before. I might even be seeing myself differently. It’s enlightening, revolutionary, life-changing … and scary as hell. Also … I think I like it.
It takes me a minute to collect myself and realize that I need to apologize to Miller. We’ve been growing closer and if he’s as fond of our friendship as I am, I can’t expect him to not be upset or defensive about me getting hurt. I let Amy and Bridget run defense with Addy for me last night and it felt awesome. I need to let him in. I want to let him in.
By the time I get to the hiking trail the group has already left. Trying to catch up will only make me super sweaty and totally out of breath. So, I get some new shots at the pavilion of the kids playing games like Freeze Dance and Four Square, and then a couple of Cal and Alan at the climbing wall before I go over to the lake. There is always the biggest group of kids at the lake so there are great options for new photos here.
I get standard shots where the girls in bathing suits with wet, stringy hair have their arms draped over each other’s shoulders and are all smiles. I also do some posed candids. I ask the kids to keep doing what they were doing while I take their picture. They aren’t completely candid since the kids know I’m taking their picture, but they are more aware of their actions and facial expressions, so I get a bigger smile or a more exaggerated move as they dig with a shovel in the small, sandy shoreline.
Addy has looked over at me from her lifeguard post at least a dozen times in the last fifteen minutes. I want to yell to her to keep her eyes on the lake before a kid drowns, but that’s exactly what she wants me to do. She wants me to fall back into our routine, the routine where I look out for her, the routine where she gets to say and do whatever she wants, and I live my life being her puppet. I can’t do that anymore.
“Think you two will be okay?” Miller asks, walking over and catching me watching Addy pretend to care about her job.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. It’s an honest answer. Addy and I have never been in this place before. Usually Addy just says whatever she wants and I go along. This time is different though. Addy crossed a line I never dreamed she’d cross and I have no idea what to do.
“Do you think we’ll be okay?”
“Yes,” I say quickly with confidence.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says. “I was out of line.”
“You weren’t … you were right. I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain, Miller, but this has been my life: being Addison’s twin, yet living her in her shadow. I’m not sure I know how to exist without her like that, but … that’s all I want right now. It’s sad, but all I want in this moment to be as separate from her as possible.”
We stand there near the edge of the water in silence for a while. Addy keeps looking back at us from her lifeguard post, unsure if she should pose for Miller or shoot me the questioning looks she had been. It’s nice standing here with Miller. Comforting. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m also enjoying how my being here with Miller is making Addy squirm.
The sound of an old-time alarm clock rings through the camp speakers to tell the kids it’s time to come in and clean up for lunch. The speakers are placed throughout the entire camp so even the kids at the climbing wall or out on the hiking trail hear it. Moans of displeased children echo as the kids don’t want to come out of the water. It’s a little hotter today than it has been and the lake is just where these kids want to be. They’re also bummed because after lunch they have to switch to another activity.
“I gotta go,” Miller tells me, motioning to the where the life jackets and canoes have been piling up. We both notice his fellow newbie counterparts giving him the evil eye and chuckle.
&nbs
p; “Right. You better go. Thanks, Miller,” I tell him.
“For what?”
“For being my friend.”
Miller walks away and I take pictures of kids I think I haven’t gotten yet as they come out of the water. I send some of them back in to give me splashing-and-jumping-in-the-water-holding-hands shots, which makes them happy because it gets them back in the water. When I’m sure I’ve got enough shots I thank the kids and send them on their way. I’m headed up the path to the dining hall when I hear Addison call my name.
“Are you going to talk to me?” she says, catching up to me.
“What?” I ask curtly. Addy stares at me for a minute, taken off-guard once again by my new attitude.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but … I want you to stay away from Miller,” she tells me. Unbelievable! After what happened last night, of course the first words out of her mouth would be about her!
“Excuse me? Since when do you care about who I hang around? Oh, wait, that’s right! This guy has no interest in you, so the last thing your ego can handle is him wanting to be my friend!” I snap at her.
“Shh, Kinley! There are people around!” she says, looking around to see whose head may have turned to hear me declare that there’s actually a male on the planet not interested in her.
“Oh, so you care if people hear this conversation. Nice.”
“Why are you being so rude?” she asks, genuinely perplexed by my behavior.
I stop in my tracks, almost unable to gather the words to say in response to her ludicrous question. “I’m being rude?” I counter with a look that emphasizes my words. “Are you kidding me right now? After what happened last night, I’m the one being rude?”
“You were eavesdropping! You weren’t supposed to hear what we were saying,” she explains pathetically.
“That’s your defense? Who cares how I heard you! Why would you say it in the first place?”
“Kin, you know Christine and I have been concerned about you for years,” she begins. “I just want to help you to be your best.”
“How is telling your bitchy friends that I’m one size away from being morbidly obese helping me? Outside of being completely and utterly untrue, it was mean, and if you can’t see that …”
“I do see that. I mean, I see it now. I didn’t think you were there and, obviously, I wouldn’t have said it if I knew you were there.” Addy takes my shoulders in her hands.
“You are unbelievable. It’s not so much that you said it. It’s that you even thought it. Is that how you see me?” Tears begin to form in my eyes and I do my best to will them away, but one escapes, revealing to Addy just how hurt I am.
“Hey … I’m sorry, Kinley. I really am. Can’t we just forget it ever happened? Let’s move on, like we always do,” she says.
I want to forgive her, but this time it’s not the same. “I have to think about it,” I tell her.
“You have to think about forgiving your sister?” Addy takes her hands from my shoulders and crosses them in front of her, stunned and annoyed at the same time. “We’re family. We forgive and move on.”
“You dug a big hole this time, Addison, and it’s going to take a lot more than your half-ass apology to get you out of it. If you really care about me, you’ll give me some time to reconcile how I feel.” I watch Addy for a response. Her expression is hard, annoyed at me and unwilling to be empathetic. How have I gone along with this my whole life? “And just so you know: I may be able to move on, but I will never forget this.”
One of the other life-guards calls to Addison and her attention is drawn away. I use that as my opportunity to walk away but Addison calls to me. “Hey! We’re not done. Don’t walk away from me!”
I stop in my tracks again and collect my thoughts for a moment before I turn around and walk right back up to Addy. “You do not get to tell me what to do anymore.”
I don’t have any more to say and there’s nothing else Addy can offer that will change how I feel right now, so I turn on my heels and retrace my steps back up the path. I need time to process and heal, but Addy doesn’t understand that. She didn’t even get that when it became clear Mom wasn’t coming home any time soon. I cried for days, but Addy just moved on like it was no big deal. She was so cold about the whole thing and could never even try to see it from my point of view.
She’s completely incapable of being empathetic. It’s one of the many reasons she doesn’t understand my passion for photography. She can’t wrap her brain around the concept of looking through the eyepiece and really seeing what’s going on … the shape of the earth or the way the light streams through a window; capturing the most honest of moments when people don’t know anyone is watching. I’ve seen other people’s love and hate, joy and sorrow, and even passion through the lens of my camera. Addison can’t see anything but herself.
I think that’s the thing that separates Addy from Mom so much, that thing that makes Mom and I connect. We try to see the world through others’ eyes, looking out at what’s happening around us. We observe, take note, and record life.
And now I feel really dumb, like a big hypocrite.
For someone who observes life I can’t believe that I have been so blind to Addison’s selfish behavior. It’s not that I’m just now seeing that Addy is the definition of self-centeredness. It’s that only now am I seeing that I was not immune to her manipulations. I had always thought that Addy had my back, and that I was just being a good sister by going along with what she wanted. After all, I thought she only wanted what was best for me. Her cruel words echo in my head, proving me wrong.
If Addison and I are going to salvage our relationship, she’s going to have to make some major changes. The sad part is that I don’t think Addison is capable of making those changes.
Chapter 9
If anyone ever told me that my sister and I would one day be at odds and not speaking to each other, I would have told them were dead wrong. If they said I would be the one holding the cards of our speaking terms, I would have told them they were crazy. But that’s exactly what’s happening. I haven’t spoken to Addy in a week. I’d like to, but I can’t bring myself to do it. She has yet to even make an attempt at making things right between us. She’s approached me like nothing has happened and even once had the audacity to try and talk to me again about how I needed to stay away from Miller. She is utterly clueless and I refuse to let her off the hook.
At times, the last week has been kind of awkward. Cal is still sitting with Addy and the rest of her crew at meals, while those who had once been both my and Addy’s friends have chosen alliance with me. At first I felt badly about that, but Bridget and Carrie were quick to point out that Addy would be flying high from some kind of win if the tables were turned. Cal hasn’t said much. I think he doesn’t want to choose sides and I won’t make him. That’s something Addy would do, and is probably working on right now. I won’t stoop to that.
I haven’t seen Margaret in a couple days. Well, I’ve seen her, but haven’t had a chance to talk with her. She’s been with her cabin mates, and from where I was standing, she looked like she was doing okay. I still want to talk to her, though. I know all the tricks to being around people and acting like you don’t have a care in the world so I just want to make sure she’s alright.
“Hey! Kinley!” Amy calls to me. She does a little running walk to catch up to me before I round the path back to The Lodge. “Can you help me with something?”
“Sure. What’s up?” I agree.
“I need some help getting things prepped for tomorrow. Do you think you could help me?” she asks.
“What about Tiffany? Can’t she help you? Not that I mind … I’m just saying that shouldn’t she be the one helping you?” Amy and Tiffany are on Arts and Crafts duty now and I think Amy is about to either kill Tiffany or herself. They’re more opposite that me and Addy.
“She’s an idiot. I need to get in there and work it all out. The kids are working with clay and the Fe
llows got a new kiln this year. Mrs. Rogers has some experience with the kiln so she’s going to handle that part. I just want to make sure that I have a lay of the land before tomorrow morning. So … will you help me?” she explains. I see her point. I haven’t had much interaction with Tiffany, but what I have hasn’t left me with the most stellar impression of her.
“Of course.” I smile. “Just let me put my camera up and I’ll walk back with you.” I run inside and upstairs, putting my camera away in my and Amy’s closet, and grabbing a hoodie on my way out.
“You don’t mind missing the bonfire tonight?” Amy asks as we walk back toward the dining hall.
“No. It’s better that I avoid it. I’ve been editing most nights anyway,” I tell her.
“You’re okay with not seeing Cal?”
“It’s fine,” I say. I try not to feel awkward around Cal, but the bonfires are the most awkward. He’s so comfortable and at ease there. He’s in his social element and I’m just … there. And with things the way they are between me and Addy, things are even more awkward because Cal is part of her circle.
“And Miller?” Now Amy’s tone tells me she’s fishing for something.
“What about Miller?”
“C’mon, Kinley. I know you like him. Everyone knows you like him,” she tells me.
“What are you talking about? And what do you mean everyone knows I like him? I don’t like him. We’re good friends. We’re both artists and we understand each other,” I say. It’s almost all completely true. I do like him … a lot … but he just wants to be my friend, and since I’ve never had that before, I’m not going to do anything to mess it up. Besides, I’m sort of with Cal and what kind of foolish girl would I be if I didn’t ride that out as long as possible. He’ll eventually realize he’s making a huge mistake and break things off with me anyway.
As I Am Page 12