The Summer I Drowned

by Taylor Hale

  “Okay,” I say, and Miles’s hopeful eyes meet mine.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re right. Leaving on bad terms doesn’t feel good. What we were when we were kids meant something.”

  Before I have a moment to react, Miles wraps his arms around me. He’s strangely cold, but I hug him back, only because I’m leaving tomorrow.

  “You were my best friend, Liv,” he says. “I was so excited to reconnect with you this summer.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t go great. We’re just different people now.”

  Miles frees me from his arms. His blond hair looks fluffy under the yellow kitchen lights. “Do you think you accomplished what you came here to do? The whole scared-of-the-water thing, I mean.”

  “No . . . I failed hard.”

  “Then you know what I think?” A sudden smile plasters his face. “I think you should stay.”

  “What?”

  “Stay in Caldwell. Just for a few more days.”

  “I can’t. My parents are getting me.”

  “Then convince them to stay. There’s a motel, cottage rentals. Your parents obviously know the area.”

  I laugh, not because it’s funny, but because West had suggested something similar. The sea glass creeps back into my mind.

  “Liv?”

  I snap out of it. “My parents probably won’t go for that.”

  “You came here to conquer your fears, right?”

  Miles places a firm hand on my shoulder, and that bad taste returns to my mouth. But his eyes are kind, and his smile is gentle, and there are good memories. Miles and I playing in the water and meeting up every day after school. Being partners on a class project in the third grade. Picking leaves out of his curly hair.

  “Stay a little longer,” he says. “Conquer your fears. You can do it, Liv.”

  Miles leaves the room, and I lean against the kitchen counter.

  Maybe he has a point. Maybe it would be possible to try again, but with my parents’ support this time. Maybe they should have been here all along, and then I wouldn’t have felt so unsafe and scared here.

  In fact, I think Miles is right: I’m not ready to leave yet. I want to stay.

  17

  The next day, I wait on the front porch for my parents with Keely, my suitcase packed beside me. Mom texts that they’re five minutes away.

  “I can’t believe you’re going.” Keely’s eyes fall to the freshly mowed grass. “This summer was such a disaster.”

  “It wasn’t all bad.” I nudge her. “We had some fun. Like watching movies and stuff. And I’m glad you made me buy that dress.”

  Keely laughs, but there’s a sadness in it. “Yeah, I guess. But this is all my fault for drinking so much. I should’ve just hung out with you instead of trying to impress those stupid guys. I’m sorry, Liv.”

  “It’s okay. It’s more my fault for sneaking out. Are you still going to hang out with Shawn and them?”

  “I don’t know.” She tugs at a loose string on her yellow sundress. “I’ll still chill with them, but I’m so done with Shawn.”

  I know Keely well enough to see when she’s not telling the truth—somewhere inside her, for reasons that I don’t get, she still likes Shawn.

  “I’m sorry, Keel,” I say. “But who needs boys, anyway? You totally don’t.”

  She shoulders me with a grin. “Easy for you to say when West is in love with you. Have you guys done it yet?” My face is instantly aflame, and Keely slaps my arm with a huge laugh. “Oh my God, your face! Chill out, I won’t bug you too much about it. But be honest: was it good?”

  My lips twitch into a grin. “It was good.”

  We both sigh and look up as sparrows flock from an oak into the clear afternoon sky. Roger and Sun come outside, just as my parents’ rental sedan pulls up the avenue. Even though I don’t want to go, I’m relieved at the sight of my parents getting out of the car. I hug Mom first—she doesn’t give me a choice—then Dad, and feel at home for a fleeting moment.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Mom grabs my face.

  “Mom, I’m fine,” I grumble.

  She smothers me in another hug. Dad shakes Roger’s hand and says, “Thank you for everything, Rog. We can’t tell you how much we appreciate it.”

  “It was no problem. Keely loved having Olivia here.” Roger places his hand on Dad’s back and leads him away. “But there are some things we should talk about before you go.”

  They all go and talk by the birdbath.

  “Yikes.” Keely rocks on her heels. “Think you’re going to be in trouble?”

  “I don’t know. It’s more the disappointment that makes me feel horrible.”

  “Bigger yikes.”

  Mom and Dad are giving me the look when they come back over with Keely’s parents. Roger told them some of what happened on the phone, but I imagine he just filled in any remaining blanks.

  “Time to go, Olivia,” Dad says.

  With a nod, I face Sun and Roger and hold my hands together. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate you putting up with me.”

  Despite everything, Sun’s smile is warm. “You’re welcome, Olivia.”

  I hug her, then Roger.

  “Maybe next time, you girls can have the summer you wanted,” Roger says.

  “I hope so. Thanks, Roger.”

  My parents and I walk away. I catch Keely’s eyes once more before I get into the back of the rental car and shove my suitcase to the other side. It has that new car smell, unfamiliar and neutral. Dad gets behind the wheel while Mom takes the passenger side.

  “Oh honey,” Mom says. “What were we thinking sending you here without us?”

  “Mom, I’m fine.”

  Dad rubs his eye beneath his glasses. “You’re not fine, Olivia. I was wrong about everything, we never should’ve left you here.” He looks at Mom and mutters, “She broke all of Roger’s rules, and some of our own.”

  And there it is, the crushing disappointment. Before the accident, letting them down wasn’t as big of a deal; I was always worrying them when I was a kid by swimming too far out into the sea and climbing trees. But now it’s different.

  “It’s her mental health we need to worry about,” Mom whispers as if I can’t hear them.

  “Then let’s get her back to Dr. Levy so she can do her job.”

  “We need to be a support system for her right now.”

  “So what, we just don’t punish her for sneaking around at night?”

  “I don’t know, Allen.”

  Their back and forth raises the frustration in me until I snap. “Guys, stop!”

  “Don’t speak to us like that,” Dad warns.

  I sink into the seat. “Sorry, it’s just—I can hear you. So please stop talking about me like I’m not right here.”

  My parents sigh and stare out the window at the sunny day.

  “I know it was stupid to sneak out,” I say, “but I had my reasons.”

  “And was a boy involved in those reasons?” Dad asks without looking at me.

  “Maybe, but that’s not the point. The point is, being here has been hard, but it’s also been totally amazing.” A smile spreads across my face at the good memories. “I mean, I swam. For the first time since I was twelve, I actually swam. It was only one time, but still. I can actually walk along the beach now and not be scared. I went on a boat and everything.”

  They share a concerned look.

  “So please don’t make me go yet,” I say. “I’ve come so close to being able to cope with my fear. And I have friends here, I have a life. Can’t we stay for just a bit longer? Rent a place?”

  “You want us to stay?” Dad laughs sarcastically. “Olivia, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I’m serious.” I focus on Mom. She’s always been easier to de
al with than Dad, and even though he hates to admit it, she’s the one who makes the final decisions. I take a page from Keely’s book and bat my eyes. “Please? I swam, Mom . . . you can’t say that isn’t big for me.”

  Sighing, Mom touches Dad’s arm. “We do have Greg watching the shop. We could afford to stay somewhere for a couple of days.”

  Dad catches me in the rear-view mirror. “Who’s the boy?”

  I draw a breath. “West.”

  “West? You mean Miles’s brother, West.”

  To my parents, West is just “Miles’s brother.” Miles used to come around the house all the time, but West and I were only ever together at the beach or the Hendricks estate. To them, Miles is still my childhood best friend. A jolt of guilt zaps me.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Mom says. “I always thought you would end up with Miles, if anyone from Caldwell at all.”

  “Yeah, and Miles was a way nicer kid,” Dad mutters.

  “West is different now, Dad. He’s good.”

  Red dots Dad’s cheeks. I’ve never had a boyfriend, period, so I have no idea how he’s going to react.

  “If you don’t believe me,” I say, “let’s find somewhere to stay tonight and have West over for dinner.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I’ll leave this one up to you, Carrie.”

  Mom fidgets with her long brown hair before she groans. “I hate when you two put me on the spot. We’ll stay for one more night, two at most. Okay?”

  “Deal,” I say. Dad grumbles.

  Relief flows through me as we drive toward downtown. My summer isn’t over yet, after all. I still have time to swim again—but next time, I want to do it in the ocean, all on my own.

  There wasn’t much available on such short notice with Airbnb, but Mom found a cottage along the water with a wraparound porch surrounded by the sea. The wind blows through my hair from the deck, my elbows propped on the railing. Seagulls squawk and the waves lap against the sand as the sun descends into the ocean, making the horizon a swollen ball of light.

  Inside, my parents are setting up the pizza boxes Dad ordered from Sergio’s. It was his favorite place to eat when we lived here. They bought some clothing and supplies while we were downtown, but only enough for a couple of days, and they told only Keely’s family where we would be.

  When West’s Corvette revs nearby, I run to him as he parks alongside the pastel-blue cottage. As soon as he gets out of his car, I’m in his arms.

  “Hey.” He lifts me into a hug and smooths his hand over my hair. “You’re really staying?”

  “Not for long, but still.” I smile wide when he sets me down. “We can be together for a couple days at least.”

  West kisses me, just as Dad clears his throat behind us, standing in the doorway, and scratches behind his ear. He says, “You coming in for pizza or what?” and lets the door shut behind him. We follow, but West stops me by pulling on my hand.

  “Wait. He’s not going to bite my head off, is he? Angry dads are not my specialty. Guess I’m not always the ideal choice for their daughters.”

  “Well . . .” A look of horror flashes across West’s face. I laugh. “Don’t worry. My dad’s harmless, he’s just not used to me having a guy around. But once he sees how great you are, he’ll come around.”

  We go inside. The cottage is dinky and humid, but it has two bedrooms and a wooden round table that’s only a little wobbly. Board games are stacked onto the shelves in the living room next to an old box TV, and everything has that cabin smell—musty, but something about it feels like home. And it’s close to the water, which is surprisingly fine.

  West shakes Dad’s hand with a nervous smile. Dad returns it with too much aggression for my liking, but West holds his ground. When he goes for Mom’s hand, she surprises him with a short hug.

  “The last time I saw you, you were up to my shoulder.” Her smile touches her eyes. “How are you, West?”

  “I’m okay, thanks.”

  “Hope you like pepperoni,” Dad says.

  “That sounds awesome.”

  We all sit and grab slices. I slick my socks against the bumpy linoleum floor and glance around the table. I’ve never seen West so nervous, his face damp with sweat.

  “Olivia told us you were really there for her this summer,” Dad says. “I suppose we should thank you.”

  West swallows his pizza before he speaks. “She was there for me a lot too.”

  Mom rests her chin on her hands, where she has multiple rings stacked on each finger. “This town has brought us a lot of bad luck, but we’re glad Liv had you to rely on.”

  “How’s your family these days?” Dad asks. West and I stiffen—crap, I forgot to tell him not to bring them up.

  “They’re all right,” West says. “I’m not actually living with them anymore.”

  “That’s a surprise. Any particular reason?”

  West looks even more nervous, so I chime in and say, “West is a mechanic, Dad. He works at the body shop.”

  Dad’s eyes flare the same way they always do when someone brings up cars. “A Hendricks kid working as a mechanic? You’re full of surprises.”

  “Only an apprentice,” West says, “but I’m on my way up.”

  I can tell Dad’s trying to be that protective father, but the facade is sliding off. “I like cars myself, but I had to sell my ’75 Mustang when we moved away from Caldwell Beach. Not much point having a car like that in New York City, and where parking’s criminally expensive at that.”

  “Sorry, that sucks. Did you see mine out there?”

  “Must’ve missed it while you were—never mind.”

  “It’s a ’68 Corvette.”

  Dad’s shoulders square. “Might need you to give me a tour of that one.”

  “Sure, I could show you right now if you want.”

  They both set their slices down and are out the front door in seconds. Mom and I look at each other, dumbfounded, before we both laugh.

  “Looks like they have something in common, after all,” Mom says.

  “Yep.”

  Mom’s smile melts, concern taking over her face. “Are sure you’re okay, Livvie?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, because I really am fine. I always am when West is near. If I’m stranded out at sea, he’s the island over the horizon and the lifeboat that carries me home. Will I be lost without him?

  Mom and I are done eating by the time Dad returns with West, laughing like old buddies. Dad was bound to be swayed eventually—at least the awkward part is over now.

  Dad ropes us into a game of Settlers of Catan, even though Mom and I hate board games. He and West spend most of the time talking about cars, and Dad tells him long-winded stories about his early twenties when he dreamed of being a race car driver. Dad narrowly beats West at the end of the game, but I suspect West let him win.

  “Well, it’s getting late,” Dad says. The clock above the stove reads 11:43 p.m.

  West stands. “I better go.”

  He shakes Dad’s hand and hugs Mom before I walk him to the door. I tell my parents to give me a minute and follow West into the humid summer night, shutting the door behind us. Finally, with a moment to breathe, I jump into West’s arms. He hugs me back.

  “That went better than I thought.” He sets me down, but I keep my hands on his shoulders as he holds the curve of my torso.

  “I knew they’d love you.”

  “You give me too much credit.”

  We fall quiet. The wind has picked up, and the waves roar now. I crane my neck back and look at the band of the Milky Way that spreads across the entire night sky. Soon, I won’t have any of the three things I love in front of me: the stars, the ocean, and West.

  The ocean. I never realized it until right now, but I do still love it. I always did. Even if the thought o
f being under water still terrifies me.

  “Hey, so I wanted to give you this.” West reaches into his pocket and slides something cold into my hand. “I know a pocketknife is a shitty gift to give your girlfriend, but I know you feel unsafe sometimes, and I don’t know.” He laughs. “Maybe don’t tell your parents that I gave you a knife, but I wanted you to have it.”

  I smooth my finger along the surface of the knife’s sheath. A pattern of waves is engraved into it. I press a button, and the knife pops out.

  “Whoa, okay.” West closes it and encases my fingers around it. “Don’t go flashing it around, okay? It’s just to help you feel safe. Carry it in your purse or something.”

  I totally do not need a knife, but I love that he’s giving me a present. “Thanks, West. I like it.”

  He grins. My skin goes up in flames when he grabs my hips beneath my shirt and backs me into the wall. “Wish you could come home with me,” he whispers, pressing into me, and I stare at his mouth.

  “I wish I could too. But if I sneak away from my parents, they’ll get pretty mad.”

  “I know, and I’m not going to make your parents hate me already.” He kisses me. “But hey, if you’re staying for a few days, you should come up to the estate for a barbeque. My dad called me earlier. We’re still not on the best terms, but he’s throwing a big party for the whole town the day after tomorrow, and sometimes he likes to have me around for show, even though Beatrice would rather keep me buried. You should come with me.”

  I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that look on his face, like I’m the only thing he can see, even with so many stars above us. “Sure,” I say. “If I can convince my parents, I’d love to be there with you.”

  “Cool. Goodnight, Olive.” He places another electric kiss on my lips. I don’t want to be away from him, not even for a minute, let alone for months and months and months. But we have a little more time together. Worrying is a waste of it.