by Alia Rose
She rolled her eyes. “I’m an artist too, you know. Just a different kind. I need inspiration and creativity. It’s the same thought process. And you—” she pointed at me, “—need a new muse.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but she put her hand up. I was tempted to grab it. “And please, pick a happier one.”
I sighed. “You kept your word on being honest and blunt.”
She smiled and shrugged.
I kept my eyes on her, noticing her two dimples. “Do you want to go for a walk?” I asked her.
She looked up from her cup. “Sure.”
We walked along the entire length of the boardwalk and talked. For the most part I stayed quiet, letting Amy do the talking. I thought about the other night, how she had said she understood my not letting her in. I wondered if it had to do with her not letting people in. I could tell she had a wall up, just like me, because of the subjects she talked about. She didn’t get personal. She talked mainly about swimming and drawing, and said nothing about family. I didn’t blame her; I never brought up my family if I could help it.
When we reached the end of the boardwalk, Amy checked her phone. She looked at me and said reluctantly, “My shift is about to start.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah,” she said, beginning to walk away. She stopped and faced me. “I’m going to the beach tonight.” She tilted her head slightly. I watched her face as she said this. I knew it was her way of offering to hang out, and she stood there for a minute longer, her face unreadable as always.
I finally nodded. “I’ll be there,” I said just as she turned around and walked away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Amy
For the next couple of days, I met Seth at the beach every night. We fell into a routine, getting smoothies just before closing and sitting on the beach. Depending on the night, we might also swim. It was weird that I had only known him a couple of weeks, and now I spent practically every night with him.
The evenings always started out the same, with us sitting on the sand. Then whichever one of us was more bold would start the conversation and our night would go from there. Our conversations mainly revolved around swimming, music, and art. We talked about childhood experiences in Shelby but only vaguely, never mentioning our families. Maybe to some people this would have been odd, but I understood why. If you had a complicated family, you avoided talking about it. It wasn’t until the night before my stepdad’s Fourth of July party that I mentioned my mom wasn’t speaking to me. It sort of slipped out, and I hoped Seth hadn’t noticed that detail. No such luck.
“Why isn’t she speaking to you?” he asked, stretching his arms over his head.
“Because I’m going to Chicago and I didn’t tell her until graduation,” I said, hoping he would leave it at that.
“Wow, how come?” he asked, running sand through his fingers.
I sighed, watching the sand fall out of his hand. “It’s complicated.”
“How complicated?”
I felt like telling him that that was my way of saying I didn’t want to talk about it, but instead I said, “My dad lives in Chicago, and she feels like I’m leaving her to be with him.” I stretched out my legs, digging my feet into the sand. “She’s very…” I trailed off, trying to find the right word without sounding too mean. “Dramatic?”
“So she’s jealous,” he said.
“You could say that.”
“You can’t really blame her, though; you’ve been her only family since your dad left, and now you’re leaving too.” He looked out to the water.
“Well, she won’t be home alone,” I said, defending myself. “She has my stepdad.”
“True,” he said in a flat voice. I looked up. His face held no emotion, but something was different. It went away just as quickly as it had come and he said, “My mom was the opposite.”
I was silent. This was the first time he had mentioned his mom. I was surprised but curious. “How?”
He laughed to himself. “She was crazy when I was a kid. Always told me I needed to go off on my own. She was convinced I would be or do something great with my life.”
“That’s how my dad is, which is probably why I get along better with him.”
He nodded and looked at me. “Ready for a swim?”
I groaned but followed him into the water anyway.
When I woke up the next morning, I knew it was going to be a bad day. First, my whole body ached from swimming the night before, and from Seth tackling me as usual. It had seemed to become our thing, and it drove me crazy how close he’d get to my face. It was a feeling I hadn’t really ever experienced before, and I was starting to wonder if he was ever going to kiss me. A part of me had a feeling he knew what it did to me.
Second, I could hear my mom arguing with John. And then I remembered: It was July fourth.
I walked downstairs to the kitchen where my mom had her head in the fridge.
“Where is the sour cream?” she mumbled. “I know I bought some.”
I crept past the fridge and poured myself some coffee. I looked over and John met my eyes. He shook his head and smiled. I smiled back, looking over at my mom. I thought about Seth saying not to blame her. I hadn’t tried to talk to her now that she was in a better mood because I didn’t want to make it worse. John had told me that the flowers and breakfast had worked.
“I’m glad,” I had told him.
“Yeah, me too.” He had smiled. “I told her it was your idea.”
I swallowed. “What?”
“Well, I didn’t want to take all the credit,” he said. “And anyway, she wasn’t mad. She just looked away and I thought she was going to cry, but her eyes just watered and she smiled.”
This had shocked me, but now, looking at my mom trying to find the sour cream, I realized she was just waiting for me to make the first move. So I turned to her and said, “I can go pick some up, Mom, if you want.”
I could tell she was surprised. “Thanks, that would be great.” She turned back around and grabbed a piece of paper off the fridge. “I also forgot to buy this stuff,” she said, handing me the note.
I took it, looking it over. “Okay.”
“When does the party start?” I asked John.
“Around six,” he said, looking at my mom, who was putting things all over the counter.
“Please be back by three at the latest. I have to make everything,” my mom said.
I nodded, putting my coffee down. “Sure, no problem.” I walked out of the kitchen and went back to my room. She wasn’t happy with me, but at least she was speaking to me. That had to count for something.
After picking up Kelly and driving over to the supermarket, we walked into a crowd.
“I feel like I’m in an airport,” Kelly said, looking at all the people hurrying through. She was right. The lines were curling off, causing traffic to block the entrance.
“So you and your mom haven’t talked in, like, a month, and now she sends you shopping?” Kelly said, pushing the cart.
“I offered. Her letting me was her way of apologizing.”
“So you guys are okay now?”
I put two tubs of sour cream in the cart. “Not really.”
Kelly sighed heavily. “What else does she need?”
“Chips,” I said, checking the list. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, my parents went to the future preggo-in-law’s to celebrate.”
I raised my eyebrows.
She shrugged. “I told them you needed me. You need me, right?”
I nodded. “My mom is going to be crazy.”
When we got back to my house, the kitchen was turned upside down, and my mom didn’t even notice when we walked in. I set the bag of stuff on what counter space I could find. My mom had a cigarette in one hand and was stirring some kind of salad together. We watched her, probably thinking the same thing: look out for ashes in the salad.
&nbs
p; “Mom?” I said. She looked up.
“Oh, thanks.” She went back to stirring.
“Do you need any help?” I offered.
“Nope!” she said, squeaking a little at the end. I looked at Kelly and motioned her with my head to go upstairs.
After enduring two hours of socializing with guests and eating four hot dogs each, Kelly and I left with a plate of food for Sarah. My mom watched me leave, giving me a death look. Obviously, I wasn’t totally forgiven yet.
Sarah opened her front door, glanced at the plate and back at us. “So I wasn’t invited.”
Kelly rolled her eyes, knowing Sarah’s sarcasm. She was always invited but hated family gatherings, so she always turned down the invitation. Kelly and I had fallen into a routine of making Sarah a plate and using it as an excuse to cut out early.
“Trust me: you didn’t miss out on anything,” I assured her.
“So, is there a reason why you guys are bothering me on this festive holiday?” She stood in front of her doorway, with one hand leaning against the door frame and the other on her hip.
“We should see the fireworks together!” Kelly exclaimed, excitement clearly in her voice.
Sarah looked at her. “No,” she said in a flat tone.
“Oh, come on!” Kelly said, raising her hands. “We never do anything!”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “What is there to do?”
“Watch fireworks,” I chimed in.
“Oh,” Sarah groaned. “Not you too.”
“You’ll survive,” I told her.
“I’ll buy you a smoothie,” Kelly added.
Sarah pressed her lips. “Fine.” She opened the door wider, grabbing the plate of food out of my hands.
At around nine o’clock we made our way toward the beach. We picked the spot at the edge of the dock, closest to the water, without actually being in the water. I would have rather sat on the beach and stretched out but Kelly kept going on about “this spot.”
“I’m telling you—last year when Kevin and I watched them here, it was perfect. The perfect spot,” Kelly said, nodding her head. Sarah looked at me and rolled her eyes.
“It better be, Kells,” Sarah threatened her. “I would have been fine watching them on TV.”
“Trust me,” Kelly assured her, handing Sarah the smoothie she had promised her.
“I’ll be back. I’m going to grab one too.” I went over to The Shack, ordering a large mango banana smoothie. I looked around the dock, which was filled with people. It was one of the few holidays that really got everyone out. Most people in the town kept to themselves for most of the year, but you could always expect a crowd on this day. I casually looked around for Seth but didn’t see him. After getting my smoothie, I pushed past the crowd back to the bench. I could see Sarah looking for me, and I continued toward her when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Seth.
“Hey,” he said, holding a smoothie and wearing a bright red shirt.
“Festive, are we?” I smirked.
He nodded. “I love the Fourth of July.” He shrugged and smiled. “Are you watching the fireworks?”
“Of course,” I said, looking over my shoulder, my eyes scanning the dock. I could see Sarah looking at us. Our eyes met. “I’m with some friends,” I added, wondering if I should extend an invitation to him.
He nodded. I opened my mouth to ask if he wanted to join us just as people began cheering for the fireworks to start.
“Um, I’ll see you later?” he yelled over the crowd before I got the chance.
I nodded and hurried through the crowd. I made it back to the bench just as the fireworks began. I could feel Sarah looking at me, but I ignored her and looked at the dark sky lighting up.
To me, fireworks were a big deal. According to my dad, I’ve been watching them since I was two. My mom didn’t like fireworks; they were too loud and gave her a headache. My dad, on the other hand, loved them. I remember sitting on his shoulders watching them while he explained how they worked and what made them different colors. Once all the fireworks in Shelby had finished, we would continue sitting there and watch the fireworks from the other towns that were still going on in the distance. We would stay there till almost one or two in the morning, just waiting until the last firework flickered away. Remembering this made me miss him.
“Kelly, I’ll admit,” Sarah said, “this is a good spot.”
Kelly smiled, pleased with herself. I looked up at the blue firework disappearing over my head. People cheered as four came up at once and sparkling and crackling followed after that. I closed my eyes, taking it all in, and just listened to the boom, the clap, over and over again.
Toward the end of the fireworks, the band began to play the national anthem, causing everyone to sway, sing along, and cheer louder. It was beyond corny—most small-town traditions are—but it had grown on me over the years and now I looked forward to the big finale. As it played on, the fireworks got bigger and prettier. As always, they saved the best for last.
By eleven, the show was over and the crowd had thinned. Kelly and Sarah lingered before walking back.
“Are you coming?” Kelly asked me.
I shook my head. “No, I think I’ll hang out here for a little while.”
Kelly nodded, giving Sarah a look she thought I didn’t notice. Sarah just shrugged. They walked away and I turned back to the sky. It was completely black except for a few stars dimly twinkling. I waited for the sounds of fireworks from far away. I leaned forward against the dock railing and stretched out my arms along its length, I closed my eyes, hearing a faint sound. I thought it was more fireworks until I realized it was footsteps. I repositioned myself, folding my arms under my chin. The footsteps got closer and I looked to my left to find Seth leaning against the railing.
We stood there in silence until I finally heard the fireworks. I motioned Seth to follow me as I walked down to the beach. I sat down at the edge of the dry sand and listened to the distant boom, clap, and then the waves roaring as they crashed ashore. Together, the sounds formed a rhythm and it made the prettiest music.
“Wow,” Seth whispered.
“Isn’t it?” I nodded.
We sat in silence, just listening, not wanting to interrupt it. When it died down, I knew it would be at least half an hour before another town’s show started.
“My dad and I used to sit here and listen to the fireworks all night. This was the one thing I missed when we didn’t spend our summers here. When my dad left, it was just me sitting here, listening,” I said. I looked at him and he looked back at me. He gazed at me intensely and I looked away, playing with the sand.
“My mom loved fireworks,” he said softly. He was quiet then and I looked at him. There was a sad look in his eyes.
“Loved?” I asked carefully.
He nodded. “She died when I was sixteen.” He didn’t look at me as he said this, just gazed into the water, waiting for the music to begin again.
I stayed silent. I guess I should have said I was sorry, but I never found comfort in those words when my dad left. It never made me feel better, and I doubted, from what I knew of Seth, that it would comfort him. Instead, I took a deep breath and did something else.
I waited until the fireworks resumed and then I gently placed my hand on top of his. His hand was cold, which I hadn’t expected, but I kept it there anyway. I felt him look at my hand and then at me, but I didn’t return the look. I just relaxed my tensed shoulders and continued to listen to the waves, the fireworks and our steady breathing. And as the night ended, sometime in between, I felt him squeeze my fingers and hold on.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Seth
“So, guess what?” I said to Amy. She was sitting in her lifeguard chair, bent over a book with her legs crossed underneath her. She had a yellow sundress on and was wearing a straw hat.
“What?” she asked, not looking up and continuing to read her book. This was just one of the many things I had learned about Amy in the
past few weeks: you could never tell if she cared about anything, really. Only in very rare moments would she say or do something that indicated any type of emotion.
“I got a job.” She looked at me, taking her sunglasses off. She was surprised.
“Where?”
“Conner’s Club,” I said, shielding my eyes from the sun so that I could look at her.
“Oh,” she said, going back to her book. I reached up and grabbed it out of her lap.
“Hey!” she protested, reaching down for it.
I stepped back out of her reach. “When do you get off?”
She narrowed her eyes. “In an hour.”
“Okay,” I said, walking away.
She cleared her throat. “My book?”
I looked back at her and shrugged, smirking. She rolled her eyes and gave me a dirty look.
Conner’s Club had to be the most popular club in Shelby. It was the largest in town and allowed eighteen-year-olds in with a no-drinking wristband. It was also Will’s dad’s place. After bumping into Will at the restaurant, I reached out to him and spent the Fourth of July with him and some of his friends I didn’t know. He mentioned that the club needed some help and told me to stop by after the holiday.
When I walked in, the lights were low; it was empty and smelled like old beer. The bar was off to one side, near the entrance, encircling a large dance floor. There was a stage in front of the floor, and I wondered how often they had live bands. To the left of the dance floor was, by the looks of it, a restaurant. It was raised off the floor and separated by a short wall. It looked added on. I couldn’t remember a restaurant being part of the place.
“Can I help you?” a voice called out from the bar. I looked over, and the guy came toward me. I was surprised to see it was the blond lifeguard. Then I remembered Will had a younger brother, and as I looked at Paul I felt like an idiot for not recognizing him sooner. He looked equally surprised.
“Man, I didn’t know it was you. Was your hair always that blond?” I smirked.
Paul laughed. “Yeah, I thought that was you at the beach. But it’s been awhile, so I didn’t say anything.”