by Sarah White
“Your purple bikini,” he answered, springing onto my bed and grabbing the remote. When I just stood there, curious if we were headed to the beach or a friend’s pool, he continued, “You know, the one with the little fringes.” Nolan moved his hand in a weird motion, trying to show me where I’d find the fringes on my bikini top. I giggled and threw my towel at him.
“Thanks. I didn’t know where the fringes were.” I rolled my eyes. “Why that one?” I rested my hands on my hips, watching as he rolled my towel into a tight ball.
“Because I like it,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer, then he threw the towel back at me. “And because we are going to the beach,” he finished as I spun around and retrieved the bikini from my top drawer.
I closed the door behind me and gave myself a small bolus of insulin since those Kisses had helped bring my blood sugar up. Not wanting to keep Nolan waiting long, I rushed through putting on my bikini and headed back out to my bedroom, holding my towel and pajamas. Tossing my pajamas into the dirty clothes hamper, I spun around, catching his gaze for a minute before he looked away. His eyes didn’t linger or heat; they seem to bounce off my own before fixing on the show he’d been watching. I let myself stand for a minute at my dresser, turned away from him, and closed my eyes to focus on relaxing the painful clench of my insides.
It wasn’t the first time I’d felt disappointed by his clear lack of interest in me romantically, but the deeper I fell in love with him, the more it seemed to hurt. When I could put a smile back on my face, I turned around. His attention was still on the TV as I made my way around my bed to my closet to grab my sandals. I slipped the sundress in my hand over the bright purple material of the bikini and wiggled my toes beneath the small leather straps of the sandals now aligned at my feet.
“We’ll drive through somewhere for breakfast,” he said casually.
“Is it too early for tacos?”
“I don’t think it could ever be too early for tacos. Especially not for a girl who eats Kisses for breakfast.” The TV went black as he stood up and tossed the remote onto my bed. “Come on, Sugar.”
After saying a quick good-bye to my mom, we made our way out to Nolan’s car and headed toward our favorite Mexican restaurant. “Thank God, the sun is finally coming out again. I can’t take that gloomy weather,” Nolan said as he held his hand out his open window, palm up. He turned to me and smiled. Nolan had always been a summer person. He could only tolerate rainy days for so long before he was dying to get back out to the beach or back onto the baseball field beneath the bright rays of the big yellow orb he practically worshipped. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Do you remember that story Mr. Sax read to us the first day of our freshman year in Honors English? The one by Isaac Asimov.”
“‘Rain, Rain, Go Away.’” Nolan laughs. “That was such a twisted story. I remember thinking we were going to be in a boring class all year and was totally dreading it and then he introduced himself and opened with that crazy story. It was awesome!”
I laughed, softly remembering the way the class had been so quiet you could hear the swish of the page as Mr. Sax turned it as he read. The story is about a family that is made of sugar. They’re invited to a carnival by their neighbors on a nice day. When it begins to rain, the neighbors watch as the family melts away. We had all been on the edges of our chairs, waiting to see why the family was acting so strangely. Nolan and I went home and looked it up immediately, ordering more of his work on Amazon.
“Honestly, you would think they are . . . ,” I started.
Nolan joined me and together we finished, “. . . made of sugar and afraid they would melt.”
I looked at Nolan and noticed he was rubbing absently at his shoulder.
“Is it hurting?” I asked, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice.
“Not too bad. I think I might have slept on it wrong.” He let his hand drift back onto the steering wheel, but it seemed like his face was pinched as if he was in pain.
“Maybe we should go back home and make an appointment with the doctor.” He had a lot riding on his shoulder being in good enough shape to pitch his game.
“No. It’s fine. It’s just sore.” I could see the hope in his eyes and maybe a shred of doubt. I wouldn’t hold him to it because I knew he wanted his words to be true. He needed them to be. His scholarship to college depended on his ability to pitch for their team. There were many times over the years he’d let me pretend to be in a better place with my health than I really was; I’d give him this afternoon.
“Okay.”
“If it’s not better by tonight, I’ll go on Monday,” he promised.
I nodded and then put my feet up on his dashboard, hugging the bottom of my sundress around my thighs. “All right.”
“But if you don’t get your feet off my dash, you can walk home right now,” he teased, reaching out with his bad arm and nudging my feet from the dashboard. We both laughed and the somber mood dissipated and our usual playful atmosphere returned.
“How are you going to boss me around when we’re on separate campuses?”
He gave me a curious and worried look. “Are you having another ‘dysgeographic’ moment? I know you thought that the Gulf of Mexico was only in Mexico, so you might not realize this, but USC and UCLA are not impossible distances apart.”
“Are you ever going to let me forget that?” I covered my face with my hands. That was the most embarrassing day ever. “It is named the Gulf of MEXICO,” I said emphatically.
Nolan laughed so hard he could barely speak. “You were so sure.”
“Why would I assume it stretches all the way to Florida?” I answered, as if he was the idiot instead of me.
“Makes perfect sense,” he deadpanned. “And if the distance between our schools is too much, I’ll just boss you around over the phone. Problem solved.”
“I hope you aren’t this mean to your new friends in college,” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest in mock offense.
“It’s okay if they don’t like me. Why would I need any new friends when I’ve got you? After all, you’ve got all the answers I’ll ever need.” Nolan reached across the seat and nudged me playfully with his hand. I pretended to ignore him and looked out the window. Laughing, he announced, “Five Reasons You’re Still Smarter Than I Am.”
I giggled as I turned to look at him again. The moment he saw my smile, his shoulders relaxed. I loved making lists with him, all kinds of lists, but the lists he made about me were always my favorite.
Seven
MY FEET SANK into the warm sand as Nolan and I made our way down to the shore. We spread out two towels and then left our bags on top of them. The heat from the sun kissed my shoulders as I slipped my cover-up off and dropped it into my oversized tote. Nolan held his hand out to me. “Give me your kit and I’ll put it into the cooler bag I brought.” I did as he asked and then stood, twisting myself slightly so I could reach the spot where my pump was connected to my body. I rotated it every three days, but I tried to keep it where any scarring would not be as noticeable. That’s why that day it was just below the top of my bathing suit bottoms. I squeezed the small latches and pulled the connector needle from the cannula housing and slipped the disconnection cover in. He waited for me to wind the loose tubing around the pump and then took it from me to also place in the cooler. My pump was waterproof, but I hated taking chances with the salt water and sand.
I could hear the voices of a few of our friends approaching. When I stood up again, I took a minute to tug on my bottoms to make sure they covered the last site I had used, as it was still a bit bruised. You couldn’t always see where my pump was last, but if you pressed just hard enough, you’d feel the bumps and dips from where it had been. Over the years, scar tissue had built up just beneath the surface.
“Zie, you’re good,” Nolan said quietly. I didn’t really talk much anymore about how my disease made me feel different, but I still had a few tells. Leave it to my
best friend to see one. He smiled at me, then waved at the group of approaching friends, shouting, “What’s up?”
Regan, Nisha, and Declan made their way across the hot sand to our towels. We welcomed everyone with hugs or fist bumps and watched as our patch of sand grew into a small towel city. The girls quickly stripped down to their bathing suits and I felt a little jolt of envy seeing how they didn’t have to worry about hiding a port beneath their suits. Snacks were secured in the cooler and sunscreen was applied. As the beach began to fill up with tourists and locals looking to soak up some of the early summer rays, we all settled into our spots on the towels to get some sun.
“Did you invite Henry?” Declan asked. We all turned and saw another group of kids making their way down the beach from the strand. I watched as Nolan’s shoulders tensed when he saw his least favorite teammate. He and Henry were like oil and water, but they were forced to get along on an almost daily basis.
“This should be fun,” I said under my breath, and Nolan bumped my shoulder with his. “Maybe they’ll put their towels down somewhere else.”
“I’ll try to play nice.”
I knew he would. It wasn’t in his nature to ever give anyone a hard time. I was still watching him when his face lit up with a smile. I turned to see who had captured his attention. “Erin’s here?” I asked.
Nolan turned to me with a bright smile. “Yeah. I thought it would be cool if she got to know everyone better. She’s actually Henry’s cousin. Isn’t that nice?” The last words were said in a way that told me he thought it was anything but nice that his love interest had a direct connection to the guy he couldn’t stand to be around.
“Lovely,” I said flatly as I crossed my arms.
“Obviously I have the worst luck in the world. What are the chances they would run into each other here?” he asked as we watched Erin give Henry a hug and point to our group in a way that made it clear she was inviting Henry and his friends over to sit with us.
My towel was next to Nolan’s, and by the time Erin made it to our group, the only place she could lay hers out was at the end of all the others. I didn’t want to give up my space, but it seemed like the right thing to do. “Hey,” I said as she finished applying some sort of lip gloss. “Maybe you and I should switch spots. I need to catch up with Nisha.”
“Are you sure? That would be great.” She slid her oversized glasses to the top of her head. “But only if it’s not too much trouble. I don’t want to put you out. You were here first.” She looked sincere as she said it.
“It’s not a problem.” I smiled and then grabbed my towel and moved it down by Nisha’s. That earned me a grin and conspiratorial wink from Nisha, who thought I was trying to play matchmaker to Nolan and Erin.
“So what do you think of Erin?” she asked when I flopped down next to her.
“She’s nice.” The thing was, she did seem nice. As much as I would have loved to have a concrete reason to not like her, she always came across as friendly. “Hey, did you see the last episode of The Bachelor?” I asked. My attempt to change the topic worked, and soon Nisha, Regan, and I had not only dissected all the drama that had happened on the group date on that week’s episode, but had also analyzed The Walking Dead, and of course the latest HBO miniseries we were all hooked on. I promised not to give away the ending even though I’d read the book it was based on.
My stomach growled and Nisha laughed. “Let’s get a snack. I’m starving too,” she said. The three of us got up and headed down to the cooler and our bags that were stacked around the speaker and beneath the one sun umbrella Nisha had the foresight to bring. I reached for my kit while everyone else dived into the snacks they brought. As I was checking my blood sugar, I watched my friends eating and laughing together. It felt fun and perfect. I was going to miss days like this after we graduated.
After clipping my pump on quickly, I covered myself for what I’d chosen to eat, and then once the dose had been administered, I tucked my pump back in the cooler and put my kit away. Erin was just finishing a cookie by the time I came over and sat next to Nolan and opened my bag of mini cookies.
“Do you want one?” I asked Erin as she looked at my snack. I’d calculated enough insulin for the whole thing, but I’d just eat something else if she wanted a few. I didn’t want to be rude.
“No. Sorry,” she said, looking away. “I just thought diabetics weren’t supposed to eat sugar.”
I actually got that all the time. I shook my head. “When you eat sugar, your pancreas makes insulin. When I eat sugar, I just have to give myself the insulin. Obviously I can’t go crazy and eat my weight in sugary products, but I can have some cookies here and there. I need to sometimes if my blood sugar is low.”
When Nolan was finished with his cookie, he brushed his hands on his board shorts and jumped up. He offered his hand to Erin and pulled her up too. Since I was still eating my snack, I waved off his offer to join them. I watched as he and Erin headed down to the water, a few of my other friends in tow. Nisha waited around for me, sitting down beside me on the towel and watching as our group dipped their feet in the waves at the shoreline.
“Do you think Henry and Nolan will learn to get along for the sake of Erin?” Nisha asked with a hint of mischief in her voice. We looked down to the shoreline at our friends splashing each other as the waves rolled in. As if perfectly on cue, Henry cocked his arm back and unleashed a huge wave of salt water right in Nolan’s eyes as he was trying to help Erin up. I could tell even from our distance that Nolan gave Henry a sharp look as he wiped the water from his face.
“No,” I answered with a sigh. “I think that ship has sailed.” I crumpled up my empty snack sack and shoved it into the small bag we were keeping our trash in. “Come on. Let’s go down there before someone gets themselves drowned.”
“What’s the fun in that?” Nisha asked with a laugh. We both got up and headed for the waves and our friends.
By the time lunch came around, my shoulders were a bit red and my fingers were pruned from spending so much time in the water. We all headed up to our towels and decided we’d pack up our stuff and head to a pizza shop on the pier. In a rush, I clipped my pump onto my bathing suit bottoms to save the time of unwrapping the tubing before reattaching it to the site on my skin, and then I pulled my sundress over my head.
“Do you ever get tired of wearing that thing?” Henry asked, his eyes on the lump at my side where my dress had caught up on my pump. “It’s probably hard to hide all the time.” It wasn’t even his words that stung, it was the look on his face as he said them. I was used to people being curious. I was used to people not always being educated about my disease, but the only thing that hurt was when they were disgusted. There was nothing disgusting about it, but I couldn’t help but feel shame anyway.
I was flustered as I tried to think of my response. My hands immediately tugged at my dress and then fidgeted with my pump to try to move it to somewhere more inconspicuous. “No. She gets tired of the ignorant assholes who ask stupid questions.” Nolan’s voice wasn’t harsh, but it was laced with a warning that was very clear.
Henry laughed as he shook his head. He knew better than to challenge Nolan, especially in front of all of us. He told me, “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just curious.”
“It’s fine,” I muttered under my breath.
“It’s not,” Nolan told me quietly as we walked up to the pizza place.
“I think a lot of people wonder about it.”
“Wondering is different than being disgusted. He’s an idiot.” Nolan bumped my shoulder with his and smiled. I tried to smile back, but it fell flat.
“Some days it doesn’t bother me.” I told him honestly. “And some days it feels really unfair.”
“I get it.” And I knew he did. He didn’t need to say another word.
I promised myself I wouldn’t let it ruin the rest of my day. I tried not to focus on where my pump was in relation to my clothing, or if anyone was notici
ng it, but Henry had turned a spotlight on something that I already felt self-conscious about when I was in my bathing suit. It made me hate Henry a little more than I already did.
Eight
IT HAD ONLY been a week since we’d all spent a day together at the beach, but the weather was beautiful and it was easy to be reminded of the warm sand and refreshing waves. “I still think we should have gone to the beach today,” Regan said again.
She, Nisha, and I were around the table drinking chocolate shakes. The movie we’d just gotten out of had been funny, and the perfect way to spend a Saturday morning.
“I got enough sun last weekend,” Nisha said. “Besides, we’re going to the beach tonight.”
“A bonfire isn’t the same thing as lying out,” Regan said, rolling her eyes.
“Are you going to meet up with Charli tonight?” Nisha asked mischievously.
I looked to Regan and watched as her cheeks flushed red. She’d had a crush on Charli for the entire year. Last weekend they were supposed to meet up for coffee but Charli had to cancel last minute when she had to spend time with her dad on a weekend that was typically her mom’s. “Maybe,” Regan answered with a shrug. She quickly sucked her straw into her mouth so she couldn’t answer a follow-up question. It didn’t deter Nisha.
“So are you going to meet up with her for dinner, then?” Nisha’s spoon froze over her shake; a large drop of whipped cream fell from it and landed with a splat back into her cup.
Regan shook her head. “No,” she answered. “Charli has some very severe food allergies. She has to carry an EpiPen. She said it’s really hard to eat out. She’s allergic to soy, which is pretty much in everything. Lots of places don’t even know they’re cooking with it so it can be very dangerous. She told me she has to call ahead and get the ingredients to every menu item.” Regan’s eyes met mine. “It reminded me of you, Mackenzie. She said people often tell her that things are gluten-free like that should be enough for her. They don’t take the time to learn about her condition. I know people do that to you too.”