Snowpeak99: well, thanks. i’ve gotten really into it. i was actually planning on spending the summer doing it.
Snowpeak99: i think that wins the dork contest.
Mollypop: please. you’re talking to a girl who spends her day sorting clothes.
Mollypop: so i guess the house swap wasn’t on your agenda either.
Snowpeak99: nope. it wasn’t.
Snowpeak99: but it’s turning out to be a really good summer.
Mollypop: yeah…i think so too.
13
Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold.
—W.B. Yeats
“Hi, Mom,” Molly said, coming into the kitchen after work. A vase of fresh flowers stood in the middle of the table.
“Well, look who’s here,” Laura said, taking a tray out of the oven. “Just in time for some brownies. Oh, and this just came for you.” She handed Molly a small padded envelope.
Molly took one of the warm brownies and sat down to open the package. Her stomach fluttered when she recognized the return address in the lefthand corner: it was her own.
It was from Charlie.
She put the brownie back, took the envelope, and stood up. “I’m going to change first, then I’ll be back down.”
She ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, gripping the envelope between her fingers. She got to her room and sat in the middle of the floor, just like she always did in her own bedroom on the shag carpet, and opened it. A card and a small, thin, flat package, gift wrapped in colorful balloon paper, spilled out. She read the card first.
M
So you always have your stars.
P.S. You have my permission to put them on my ceiling.
C
Her heart started beating faster as she carefully unwrapped the package. She was dying to tear it open, but she held back to savor every moment. She had never gotten a gift or a card or anything in the mail before from a boy. She removed the final piece of tape, revealing a packet of glow-in-the-dark stickers, almost exactly the same kind her father had bought her all those years before.
Her heart stopped. She felt a well of tears spring up, but they got caught somewhere in her tightening throat, unable to come out. She suddenly couldn’t breathe. What’s happening to me? She took a deep breath, trying to dislodge the tears, but it only made it worse. She looked back down at the packet of stars and picked them up. Holding them in her hand, she read Charlie’s note again. It was the only thing that calmed her. He was the only one who could calm her.
Her lungs reopened, and a big breath came out, followed by a slow stream of tears, only she wasn’t sad at all—she was happy. That’s when it hit her, when she finally figured out what was really going on: she was falling in love.
She looked back at the locked drawer, then at the shoe box on top of the bookcase containing the key. She was dying to know more about Charlie, to know everything about him. Especially now, with her heart so full of longing. Besides their e-mails and instant messages, this room and what was in it were Molly’s only real connection to him, the only tangible things of his she could touch.
She got up and carried the desk chair over to the bookcase. She hoisted herself up, reached for the box, and rummaged around inside it until she felt the key. She put it in the lock but hesitated before turning it. She knew that it was wrong, that she of all people should know the value of privacy, but she couldn’t help herself. She turned the key until the lock clicked and pulled the drawer open.
There was nothing there. Just some old mail and magazines it seemed like Charlie had swept in there at the last minute to be sorted and tossed when he got back. All that buildup for nothing. Part of her was relieved—she didn’t much like the idea of prying—but a bigger part of her felt disappointed. She had wanted to find something, anything to bring her closer to Charlie.
She was about to close the drawer and lock it up again when she noticed the corner of a photograph peeking out from the back. She reached in and pulled it out.
It was a picture of Sylvia and Charlie. She felt a few quick jealous pangs seeing him in the arms of another girl but at least it was over between them. She was certain of that. More important, Charlie was hot. And not just in the eye-of-the-beholder way. No, Charlie was hotter than that. He was the most handsome guy she had ever laid eyes on, even if it was only a picture.
Molly pulled the drawer open wider where there was a loose, spilled pile of more photographs. She had been wondering why Charlie didn’t have any pictures of his friends anywhere in his room; now she’d finally found them.
She grabbed a handful and sat down.
Oh. My. God. Her insides tightened as she flipped through them. Charlie had his arm around a different girl in every picture, each girl just as pretty if not prettier than the next. The corners of the photographs were bent and indented, like they had each spent time in the empty frame on his desk.
The sense of elation she had felt moments before was replaced with a leaden heart. She was furious with herself for having opened up so much, for even thinking she had a chance with him, for letting herself get so carried away. It was foolish and unlike her and she should have listened to Sylvia because she was right—Charlie was a player, and players never changed.
She collected the pictures off the floor and put them back in the drawer. She was about to close it when she suddenly picked up the card and packet of stickers and put them in too. She shut the drawer tight before locking it and returning the key.
• • •
“You’re sure it’s going to come off?” Charlie asked the tattoo artist, who was hunched over her stool, putting the finishing touches on the lotus flower she had drawn on Mia’s wrist. She had already completed Heather’s, also a lotus flower. There was no hesitation in making their decision—they both wanted that exact tattoo because it matched the permanent one on Celeste’s left ankle.
“Oh, just chill, Mr. Mountain Man,” Celeste interjected. “It’s henna. They’ll wash off in two days, three max, right?”
“Totally,” the artist said. Her matted, dreadlocked hair was pulled back in a purple tie-dyed bandanna, and her hands were covered in a delicate, intricate pattern in the same orange henna she’d used on Charlie’s sisters. “That’s the beauty of it. Nothing’s permanent.”
They were in the middle of the Venice boardwalk, surrounded by burning incense, street musicians, and vendors like this tattoo artist, selling everything from healing stones to paintings of the view in front of them—the Pacific Coast. Charlie had expected to hear this kind of spiritual jargon here but for some reason what the tattoo artist said made him think about Molly. He wondered if she’d gotten the stars yet; it had already been three days since he’d mailed them.
“See? You might just have to learn to trust me,” Celeste said.
“You just love the hero worship,” Charlie teased.
“This might be a good time to remind you that you asked to join us.”
That wasn’t entirely accurate. Celeste had already been taking his sisters to the beach and she’d asked Charlie if he wanted to come. It was the hottest day of the summer so he said yes. “That’s when I thought we were going to the beach. You know, the sand, the water. Right next to it wasn’t what I had in mind.”
“So impatient!” Celeste chastised.
When Mia’s tattoo was finished, they resumed walking along the boardwalk. A few blocks down, Charlie could see what looked like an outdoor gym—literally an entire gym—outside. “What is that?”
“Muscle Beach,” Celeste explained as they approached.
“Fitting name.” It had every kind of free weight imaginable, along with about a dozen extremely built, oversize men lifting them—teeth gritting, veins popping on full display. Charlie had never seen anyone that muscular in person, only in those power-lifting competitions he occasionally saw while flipping channels on TV.
Heather scrunched her nose in disgust. “Ewww. It’s so gross!”
“That
’s what you look like, Charlie,” Mia said, darting away in a fit of laughter before he could catch her.
“That was a good one. Congratulations.”
“I thought it was pretty funny,” Celeste said with a smirk. She led them onto the sand, right past the perimeter of the gym. That close, a dank musk hung in the air, the combination of heavy cologne and sweat. One of the weight lifters noticed Celeste and whistled as she walked past, igniting an onslaught of catcalls from the other musclemen.
She didn’t turn her head or act like she heard them but Charlie saw the smile creep onto her face and read her look of satisfaction. It was clear that he and his sisters weren’t enough—Celeste needed the whole world to notice her.
“What about here?” Without waiting for a response, Celeste dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes at one of the only empty spots next to the beach volleyball courts, where four games were in progress. A bunch of kids were camped out all around the courts, tanning and cheering on their friends.
Charlie stood, still holding his towel. With the tide low, the beach stretched on for hundreds of feet beyond them, much of it empty. “What about closer to the ocean?”
“It’s more fun here,” Celeste said, laying out her towel in full view of the main court, where four shirtless guys were engaged in a heated game of two-on-two.
Charlie ignored her and started heading down toward the water. The voices on the boardwalk gradually gave way to the sound of crashing waves and seagulls flying overhead. He took off his shirt and dropped his towel on a section of hard-packed sand not far from the lifeguard shack and ran the rest of the way down to the ocean. He went in up to his knees and stared out at the expansive horizon, seaweed lapping around his legs as the waves receded around him.
“This is as far as I go.” Celeste had followed him down and was standing a few feet behind, right at the water’s edge. “Do you realize how polluted this water is?”
“I’m glad I could tear you away from the game,” Charlie said, coming out of the water.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the only one they idolize.”
He looked back toward the beach, where his sisters were laying out their towels on either side of his. He was surprised, not so much that they felt that way about him but that Celeste was the one to remind him.
He went up to join them. They spent the next hour building a massive sand castle, while Celeste lay out in the sun. Despite all the shopping and the tattoos and the fascination with Celeste, he was relieved to discover that his sisters were still just eleven-year-old girls.
“Can we get some ice cream?” Heather asked, spotting a man selling it from a cart farther down the beach.
“Want some?” he asked Celeste.
She shook her head no. Charlie pulled a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to Heather. “You go with her,” he told Mia. “And I’ll have…Rocky Road. If they don’t have it, just vanilla.”
Charlie adjusted his towel so he could see them as they went.
“That’s weird,” Celeste said, pulling her towel next to his. “Those are Molly’s favorite flavors.”
Charlie stiffened. In all this time, they had never talked about Molly. He wasn’t sure what Celeste did or didn’t know about their relationship, but he erred on the side of caution and assumed it wasn’t much. After all, she hadn’t mentioned Molly in so long. Maybe Molly really was that private—so private, she didn’t even share things with her best friend. For some reason Charlie preferred it this way, keeping things separate. It was almost as if whatever was happening with Molly existed in its own universe, where regular life didn’t get in the way. “Not surprising. They’re only two of the most popular flavors in the world,” he covered.
“You should even out that farmer’s tan of yours,” Celeste said, lying back down on her towel. “Don’t worry. I can see the girls from here.”
Charlie looked at the contrasting colors of his skin. She was right. His arms, all the way up to his biceps, were a rich, golden brown, while the rest of his torso and shoulders were pasty white from the countless hours he spent on the trails.
He leaned back and lay down next to her. He could see the curves of her body from the corner of his eye, the way her chest heaved up and down with each breath. She was wearing the same pink bikini she’d had on that day at her father’s house.
“Doesn’t this feel great?”
Great? No. It felt confusing. Completely confusing. He was totally attracted to Celeste, like, physically. But it was Molly he went to sleep and woke up thinking about. She was the one he wanted to share things with, wanted to know better. Why?
He concentrated on the sun’s hot rays beating down on him, warming his entire body. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
“See? I know how to appreciate the simple things in life.”
A few minutes later, Charlie glanced over at Celeste. She had fallen asleep and now her leg was leaning against his. She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, with the small sun freckles dotting her nose and forehead. He wondered why she couldn’t always be like this, so calm and natural.
He left her leg there until he saw his sisters walking toward them, their hands full of ice cream.
• • •
Snowpeak99: there u are.
Snowpeak99: been waiting for u all night.
Snowpeak99: cheese is here too. he says hello.
Snowpeak99: molly? r u there?
Mollypop: yeah.
Snowpeak99: did you have a good night?
Mollypop: yup.
Snowpeak99: that’s good.
Snowpeak99: is everything ok?
Mollypop: why?
Snowpeak99: just asking.
Snowpeak99: u don’t seem yourself.
Mollypop: i’m fine.
Snowpeak99: okay.
Snowpeak99: but if there’s anything u want to talk about…
Mollypop: how many girlfriends have u had?
Snowpeak99: what do u mean?
Mollypop: just forget it.
Snowpeak99: i don’t want to forget it.
Snowpeak99: i’m gonna answer you.
Snowpeak99: i’m just wondering where this is coming from.
Snowpeak99: cuz you seem mad at me or something.
Mollypop: i’m not mad at you.
Mollypop: i’m mad at myself.
Snowpeak99: can u explain what’s going on?
Mollypop: i let you convince me you were different.
Snowpeak99: what? molly, you have to tell me what you’re talking about.
Mollypop: i saw those pictures of you with all your girlfriends.
Snowpeak99: the ones in the drawer?
Mollypop: yes.
Snowpeak99: ok, so, i’m going to ignore the fact that you went through my locked drawer for now.
Snowpeak99: i know how it must look, but you have to believe i’m not like that.
Mollypop: it doesn’t matter anyway.
Snowpeak99: it does matter. it matters a lot. i want to explain. Because i think i finally figured it out.
Snowpeak99: for whatever reason, i have an easy time meeting people but it never turns into anything real.
Snowpeak99: because i’ve never met a girl i can relate to.
Snowpeak99: except for you.
Snowpeak99: u have no reason to believe me, i know.
Snowpeak99: but i really like you, molly.
Snowpeak99: a lot.
Snowpeak99: r u still with me?
Mollypop: yeah, i’m here.
Snowpeak99: i mean it, molly.
Snowpeak99: it’s different with you.
Snowpeak99: you have to trust that and judge me by my actions.
Snowpeak99: not by my past.
Mollypop: ok…i’ll try.
14
With one breath, with one flow / You will know…
—The Police, “Synchronicity I”
She consulted the map a third time before leaving the main trail. The path wasn’t much
wider than her bike and was easy to miss, but the turnoff was next to a small patch of yellow wildflowers, just like Charlie had told her it would be. She had practically memorized his e-mail, and it ran through her head as she braved the terrain of thorny bushes, scattered rocks, and branches.
Charlie hadn’t told Molly where she was going, but he had gone to the trouble of hand-drawing a map, scanning it into the computer, and sending it off with the e-mail that had been waiting for her when she woke up. He even drew in details like the cluster of flowers by the turnoff and a tree stump she would be passing farther down the trail. The only vague part of the map was the destination. The trail zigzagged its way around the mountain, ending at a spot marked with an X.
You’ll know you’re there when you see it. Leave the bike and walk through the opening. Lie down and listen to the song I’ve attached. Besides me, you’re now the only person in the world who knows about this place. Keep it sacred.
She pushed her way through the thicket. Two months ago she would never have believed she would be up and out this early on a bike, trusting some guy she’d never met, riding blindly toward who knew what. But this was the closest they’d come to being on a date, out in the world. Even though they were hundreds of miles apart, this ride was still something that only they would ever experience, together or apart.
There wasn’t a chance in the world that she was going to miss out on it.
I’ve been thinking about you all night. He had really written that. To her. She needed to keep repeating it to herself, over and over like a mantra. They were the words she had longed to hear from someone, anyone. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve it now, but it felt good. Good enough to get scratched up and down her legs—good enough to keep going, destination unknown.
I’ve been thinking about you all night.
The truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking about him either.
After a few near falls, Molly was finally convinced that the path was so narrow and the bushes so thick on either side that they would cushion her if she really was going to take a major spill. She released the brakes and let the hill carry her along until it leveled out into a forest of pines. She wove her way around the trees, breathing in their fresh, stimulating scent, until she reached the other side of the mountain and rode out onto a clearing in front of a large cluster of rocks. A few hundred feet beyond, the hill dipped back down into a canyon of stone and trees.
In Your Room Page 11