She peered through the eyepiece. “I want to see the crack in the moon. Or butterscotch Mars.” Erin’s grandfather had suggested Mars was more butterscotch than red. He had known everything about the universe. Together, they had written songs about living in Jupiter’s hurricane for a hundred and fifty years and imagined gravity on the moon.
“Erin? We have the room to ourselves. Lalitha promised not to interrupt our stargazing.”
“You said Jupiter.”
“Jupiter-gazing, fine. Whatever,” Ben said. “Can you just relax a minute?”
She tripped on her way to the cushy sofa and fell into Ben’s arms.
He laughed. “Happy birthday, my beautiful birthday girl.”
Erin tried to ignore the distinct taste of beer as Ben’s tongue darted into her mouth.
“You’re so warm,” he said, reaching up the back of her shirt.
Erin grabbed a cup—Ben’s, hers, she wasn’t sure—and spat into it. She had too much saliva in her mouth. She spat again. Better.
Ben stroked her back and unfastened her bra. Their routine now on autopilot, she kissed him. Who cared about the Quigleys when she had Ben? He loved her.
Ben pulled her shirt over her head.
Trying hard to focus as he tugged on her shorts, Erin said, “I need to slow down a little.”
Ben fanned a handful of condoms onto the table and reached for her again. His hands ran over her back, up her neck, and into her mass of tangled hair. His kisses elicited a flip-flop in Erin’s belly, but the flop didn’t feel quite right.
Ben maneuvered Erin into a supine position and lay on top of her.
Despite Erin’s enthusiasm, Ben felt too heavy on her stomach. She pushed him over and crawled on top of him.
He groaned. “Yeah, I like that!”
Erin kissed his belly and bit his T-shirt as she had the first time he’d said he loved her.
“This is like the perfect day,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Happy early birthday.”
“Thanks.”
Someone knocked on the door.
“We’re looking at the moon.” Ben grabbed Erin’s butt and she giggled.
He put his hand down the back of her underpants, squeezing her right butt cheek. Quickly, she sat up to make the room stop spinning. Too fast.
Ben pumped his hips upward, and it reminded Erin of dressage lessons long ago.
“Could you stop a minute?” she said. “Little dizzy.”
Ben propped up on his elbows. “Sure, yeah.”
They ignored more knocking.
“I need to stay upright, I think.” Erin coughed and spit in the cup again. “I think I’m okay.”
“If we’re not going to, you know, maybe I could sit in the chair and you could … play?”
She should have said no.
Sitting in the armless chair, Ben pulled her hips toward him. Her stomach flipped over again in a way that had nothing to do with Ben.
Kneeling on the floor, she felt queasy. “I’m feeling a little not right.”
She spat in the cup again and felt better. Just too much saliva in my mouth.
“I like it when you unzip me,” Ben said.
A zipper would have been easy, but his button fly was another matter altogether. Even her most intense focus could not force her hands to do the work.
She focused on speaking clearly. “Got to be you.”
Ben grabbed her hands and laughed. “Sweetie, how many drinks did you have?”
“Maybe two? And a half. An then jus fruit.”
Ben unbuttoned his pants.
More knocking.
“Give us a minute. Or ten. We’ll come out when we’re done.” Ben cringed. “Can you lick your hands or something?”
Erin licked her hands, but they dried in an instant. “Vaseline?”
Ben glanced from one end of the spinning observatory to the other. “Like, from where?”
The look on his face suggested they were both thinking the same thing, but Erin knew she shouldn’t put anything near her mouth.
Erin opened her mouth to apologize—and spewed pink vomit everywhere.
“The hell?” Ben shot from the chair, wiping the pink from his jeans and crotch.
Erin fumbled to the door. More pink stuff was on its way up.
FORTY-THREE
Jade and Marama stared at Erin.
“I was drunk. Like, fast drunk. Hairy Buffalo tasted like red Kool-Aid. Do you even have Kool-Aid? It was super sweet, so I couldn’t really taste the alcohol. And it had tons of fruit floating on top, and I just kept eating it, but Lalitha’s brother had soaked the fruit in vodka overnight, so it was super alcoholic.
“I ran into the hall and vomited everywhere. Everyone saw me, and everyone saw him. And everyone had video. I vomited until I passed out on Lalitha’s bathroom floor. Because my vomit was all over his, you know, general area, people assumed my mouth had been right there. And they started calling me Gag Reflex.”
“That is revolting.”
“Thanks, Marama.”
“No,” Marama said. “I mean, yes, it was probably nasty to have vomit everywhere. But why didn’t Ben do something? If you were close to vomiting, you were too drunk to consent to whatever it was you two were doing. Why didn’t he stop when he knew you weren’t right?”
Erin hadn’t thought of that.
“And the way people reacted is disgusting,” Marama said. “Why didn’t you say something? Just tell the truth?”
Erin said, “The thing is, if you say ‘No, no, no, I don’t have a gag reflex, I was just drunk,’ then you’re someone who can’t hold her liquor. It’s just another thing they’re going to talk about.”
Jade said, “Who is this Ben wanker, anyway?”
“My very ex-boyfriend.”
“What happened to him?”
“He ghosted and got a new girlfriend.”
Marama’s eyes narrowed. “You know what you should have said? You should have said his penis wasn’t long enough to trigger your gag reflex.”
Erin felt the left side of her mouth curl up. “That would make me no better than him.”
“Yeah, but at least it would make him look just as bad as you.”
“Thanks.”
“Fuckwad,” Jade said, and Erin smiled.
Marama said, “Ignore that girl and her phone. If she comes by again, I will spew on her.”
Erin’s friends surrounded her for the rest of the meet. She lost the 200M, won the 100M, but considered Marama and Jade her true winnings.
FORTY-FOUR
Erin texted Lalitha on the way to drop off Felicity at the airport.
Litha: Is that good enough? Can you come home? I MISS YOU.
Erin: Miss you, too. Still have to stay through December.
Erin: Plus, what would I do there? Can’t swim. Can’t start classes mid-semester.
Litha: Won’t you be starting mid-semester in Jan?
Erin: Maybe I will take a vacation until second semester starts.
Litha: Maybe we BOTH can take a vacation!
Litha: NYC, we’re coming back!
Erin: Or Fiji
Litha: Hawaii!
Erin: Keep dreaming. I have to say good-bye to Felicity.
Litha: ♥
Erin:: One more thing.
Erin: Please send Claudia’s contact information.
Litha: What now?
Erin: She never called me, and I want to talk to her.
Litha: Wait, why?
Erin: Long story. All good.
Erin: Talk soon.
Erin: ♥
At the airport, Erin hugged Felicity good-bye. She wished she could fly instead of enduring another eight hours on the road with ice cream punnets.
Felicity said, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
Felicity touched Erin’s arm lightly. “Erin, this is a major accomplishment. You aren’t just the fastest in the meet, you set two national r
ecords. Among all racers. Ever.”
“Yeah. It’s great.”
Felicity frowned. “You don’t seem remotely excited.”
Erin shrugged.
“What’s the matter, love?”
Erin stared at the ground. “I’m New Zealand great, not American great.”
Felicity set her jaw.
“That didn’t come out like I meant it to. I just meant it’s not the same here as in America.”
Felicity took stock of her luggage. “I’ll see you at home, then.”
“Felicity?” How could Erin remove the foot from her mouth? “Here’s the thing.”
“No, here’s the thing, Erin.”
Ear-in. She wanted to plug one ear to prevent any ear-out.
“That is the weird dichotomy of America: kids get awards for participating. Everyone gets a trophy! Everyone gets a medal! Have a ribbon, even if you’re the very worst player ever.”
Erin agreed. Only winners should receive trophies.
“Everyone gets a prize, so your prizes mean absolutely nothing. Except the big prize. National champion. Olympic champion. World champion. Well, there’s only one of each, Erin. Everyone wants to be the very best, and anything less is not enough. Why can’t you feel proud of your accomplishment today? Acknowledge how hard you’ve worked and for how long, and be proud of that work? No matter what it means to anyone else.”
Erin couldn’t look at her.
“I think you’re setting yourself up for a long and unhappy life. If you feel proud only when you’re the very best, you never will be proud. If you’re happy only when you’ve beaten everyone else, you will never find happiness.”
Felicity gently turned Erin’s chin and stared into her glassy eyes until Erin looked away. “I’ll see you at home.”
Erin watched Felicity walk into the airport and straight to the terminals without any security whatsoever.
Erin told herself Felicity didn’t know how it felt to lose something she really, really wanted. Or to be upstaged in her own pool.
Erin could claim national champion on her Columbia application, but being champion of a tiny country wouldn’t change her life.
She joined Percy in the car. “Are you sure it’s safe for Felicity to fly? There was no security or anything. Couldn’t a terrorist hijack the plane or something?”
“Not likely in New Zealand,” Percy said. “If you were going to hijack a plane, you’d better do it somewhere closer to wherever you wanted to be.”
Erin wasn’t sure where she wanted to be. She didn’t want to return to Wheaton. She mostly didn’t want to be in the tiny house in Christchurch. She wanted to be settled in her great life, fifteen years from now.
“The general rule here is: if your plane is big enough to reach Australia, go through security. Otherwise, hop aboard.”
Of course. Because kiwis were all so happy. Most hijackings were for or about the United States, and what hijacker is patient enough for a flight that long?
Percy zoomed back toward the house on stilts. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Seem pretty blasé after such a huge accomplishment. Something else going on with you?”
New Zealand good, not American good.
Erin reached for the next truth in line. “I’m not sure winning the championship will make any difference to colleges, is all.”
“Can’t help you there. Hey, want to get pizza for our crew? We’ll have a proper celebration tonight.”
Hairy Buffalo and Ben were still too front of mind for Erin to consider any sort of celebration.
Tears welled in Erin’s eyes as she stepped inside Lalitha’s house. They had been swimming together since elementary school; surely their friendship could withstand Erin’s fall from grace.
“Erin?” Lalitha’s tiny sandals slapped the hardwood floor as she rushed to embrace her friend. “What is it?”
“Everything is ruined,” Erin said.
Lalitha held her at an arm’s distance. “Is this about those damned Quigleys barging into our pool? Their timing is shit. That is a truly lame pre-birthday surprise.”
“You think so, then? I’m off the team?”
“Maybe? Probably. I’m so pissed I could spit.”
“Spit, Li? Really?”
“I’m so pissed I could drink.”
Erin squared her shoulders. “Right. Where’s the alcohol?”
“Atta girl.” Lalitha taped a sign to the door—COME ON IN!—and led Erin to the kitchen where a mountain of junk food covered the double island. Five towers of blue plastic cups flanked a pyramid of soda cases.
Lalitha raised three fingers in mock salute. “I solemnly swear I will not swim relay with any of the damned Quigleys.”
“Don’t martyr yourself for my sake.”
Erin had reacquainted herself with the Quigleys’ times, so she knew any Quigley would guarantee her relay team a berth at States.
“I’m speaking on principle, Erin. How do we know they won’t throw a race to spite us?”
“You’re flirting with conspiracy theories, Li. They’re not trying to ruin our record.”
“Damned Quigleys.”
Erin whispered, “You’re not helping.”
“Ah, but I do have something that will help!” Lalitha withdrew a vat of pink liquid from the fridge. “This is special for you! I couldn’t buy wine coolers or ciders because I sort of exhausted my brother’s patience with the beer. But this is something special that Anil drinks at U of I. It has some vodka in it. And strawberry stuff, so it tastes good. Three pounds of fresh fruit, too, so it’s kind of healthy? I guess? He calls it Hairy Buffalo, which I find hilarious.” Lalitha filled a plastic cup and garnished it with extra fruit.
Any alcohol was a fine alternative to beer, so Erin poked a pale-pink pineapple chunk floating on the surface and took a swig. “Li, you’ll still love me if I’m off the team, right?”
“Are you kidding? For life. And tonight, you are going to drink that, party with friends, and feel all better. Tomorrow we can work up a plan to send those damned Quigleys back where they belong.”
“Still? We’re still talking about this?” Ben wrapped his arms around Erin’s waist from behind.
She faced him and forced a smile. “Hi.”
Lalitha said, “You two are too cute. Birthday pic! Gimme your phone!” She snapped photo-booth pics of them, cheek to cheek, forehead to forehead, lip to lip.
Ben looked beyond Erin to Lalitha. “Did you tell her yet?”
“It’s your surprise, Loverboy.” Lalitha pulled something small from her pocket and passed it to Ben, who palmed it.
A dozen guys swarmed into the kitchen, offering Lalitha and Erin cursory hugs before pawing through the snack mountain.
“Keg is tapped on the back porch,” Lalitha said, handing each of them a plastic cup as they filed toward the back door.
Erin glanced between her best friend and boyfriend. “Tell me!”
Ben and Lalitha shared a conspiratorial look.
Ben wrapped his arms around Erin again. “For your birthday, I convinced—”
“We convinced!”
“Right,” Ben said. “Lalitha’s mom is letting us—you and I—use the observatory tonight.”
Erin’s heart leapt. Studying the night sky had been a nightly affair at her grandparents’ lake house; it took the universe to a whole new level of intimacy. And Lalitha’s mom rarely shared her observatory, let alone allowed an unsupervised visit during a party.
Lalitha’s mom was very protective of her ten-thousand-dollar telescope, so Erin was dubious. “Did she really say it was okay?”
Lalitha shrugged. “I’m not saying she did. And I’m not saying she didn’t. Suffice it to say the room is yours for the night. Wipe down any parts you touch. And don’t touch anything but the telescope. And not the lens or the eyepiece. She is very particular, okay?” Her piercing stare darted between Ben and Erin until their eager nodding convinced her they would
behave.
“Good. When you’re done, lock the door, come find me, and put the key back in my hand. Got it?”
“Got it,” they echoed.
Ben shouted, “Happy birthday!” and voices echoed all around. He rested his hand on Erin’s hip. “What are you drinking tonight?”
“Hairy Buffalo. Really, really sweet, but light-years better than beer.” Erin sipped the sickeningly sweet Pepto-colored beverage.
“Maybe we finally found a drink for you!” Ben whispered, “And at midnight, we can really celebrate your birthday. Nothing stands between you and me and the best night of our lives.”
Erin sucked in a wisp of air as Ben’s fingers ran along her upper thigh. She’d rather skip the socializing and head upstairs immediately.
FORTY-FIVE
After swimming year-round for half a decade, the end of swim season left Erin with a gaping hole in her schedule. Felicity asked her to meet Pippa after school most days, so that killed an hour.
At Ilam Primary, parents chatted on benches circling the playgrounds. Erin untied Grandma Tea’s ring from inside her bag and slid it onto her left middle finger as young siblings wrestled on playground equipment until school was out. Erin eavesdropped on moms’ conversations as kids climbed up a row of posts and leapt into a sandpit.
Pippa burst from room 12, bounded toward Erin, and greeted her with an enormous hug. Erin tried to hold Pippa at arm’s length. Hanging off a big sister could make Pippa look clingy and ruin her reputation for years.
She refused to hold Pippa’s hand as they walked toward the bus stop, where several dozen other Ilam Primary kids lounged in the grass in uniform.
On the Metrostar, they squeezed into adjacent seats and Pippa’s attention turned to Erin.
“Do you have a story of your life for me today?”
One afternoon, Erin had talked about singing with her grandparents, and now Pippa wanted a story every day: about summers in Michigan or her old friends or life in Wheaton.
Pippa’s rose-colored glasses were almost charming. She reminded Erin of herself at ten. Pippa would have loved summers in the U.P.
Erin held up her left hand. “Today I want to tell you about my ring.”
Antipodes Page 15