“I don’t know,” I replied honestly, with a nervous laugh. “I kinda just wanted a tattoo.”
“Exactly,” he told me, nodding. “So leave now, and come back when you’ve decided. Or come back to look through these books. But I truly suggest finding inspiration in your own life. Look to your experiences, your dreams at night … pluck out images, symbols, designs. And think hard on what means the most to you now, in a week, a month, a year … and for the rest of your life.”
“Okay … uh, yeah,” I said.
He nodded contentedly. “See you around, young sir.”
“Sure,” I replied, and I scampered out of there like a scared, little bunny rabbit.
Lysander had given me a lot to think about … from what I’d understood. All in all, I thought it might do me well to first deal with some of the easier aspects of The Big Summer. Wet my toes, if you will. And try to get a feel for the plan.
Translation: I had absolutely no clue whatsoever what I wanted permanently drawn on my skin, so I was procrastinating.
. . .
When I headed upstairs into our apartment, I heard the sound of loud eighties music. As a background track, Aunt Nellie’s wonderful singing voice.
I timidly approached the kitchen, watching her twirl around as she made dinner. Her iPod was plugged into a docking station, and the countertops quivered with the intensity of the music.
Stifling a laugh, I observed as the pot of water overflowed while Aunt Nellie was busy rocking out and singing with all her might into a large serving spoon.
She struck a fabulous pose and then noticed me. Due to the fact that nothing bothered Aunt Nellie, she merely grinned at me and continued with her performance. I cheered for her and pumped my fist, screaming like a fan in the mosh pit of her concert.
As the song changed over, giving my ears a brief break in the interim, she reached for my hand and pulled me in to dance with her. Together, we worked through our extensive repertoire. We pranced around, twirling, swirling, dipping, and doo-wopping.
I steered her back to the kitchen halfway through the song, and while she danced around me, her loose silk lounging pants ballooning around her kicking legs, I stirred the pot and turned down the heat so that we would have something to eat for dinner.
I barely managed to scrape the noodles from burning at the bottom of the pot before she took me back into the dance again, and off we went.
Several songs later, and with our dinner beyond hope of repair (we would probably just end up ordering in, as usual), we plopped down on the couch and sucked in several deep breaths.
Aunt Nellie put out a hand, and I gave her an enthusiastic high five. I couldn’t get the smile off my face. In that moment, exhausted from dancing around our ignored dinner, I realized how deeply I loved her. So what if she didn’t cook wonderful meals like Hannah’s mother? So what if she spent all day long in her pajamas and was eternally betrothed to a grubby armchair? She was my family, and I was perfectly content with that.
“Long time no see,” she said.
I smiled tiredly, my eyelids drooping. I imagined my low-battery light was probably flickering its warning. “Yeah.”
“Did you have fun last night?”
“I did.”
“And at work?”
“It was a blast. I got to clean up some vomit.”
“Cool,” she said. “I can’t believe how grownup you’re getting. Just the other day, your voice was squeaking its way through puberty, and now you’re staying out all night and then going to work.”
“Aunt Nellie, please,” I told her with a laugh. “We had a movie marathon last night; we weren’t hitting up the party scene.”
“Still.”
I shook my head. “And how was your day today?”
“Well,” she said, pausing for suspense (I got the feeling that she’d been anxiously awaiting talking to me), “I had a very nice painting class. We’re covering the basics to start off with, which of course means I’m already way ahead of everyone in the class.”
“Naturally.”
“And I really like my teacher,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes and burst out laughing. “Aunt Nellie, you’re not serious!”
“He’s gorgeous, Will! So distinguished and cultured and muscly and hunky … I love me some pretty man.”
“Well,” I said, patting her on the arm and getting up to go search through the takeout menus we’d already accumulated, “I wish you both the best of luck. Just don’t pick a gross color scheme for the wedding.”
“Duly noted.”
19. Share a secret
Chapter 12
Mega-Burrito and the Bunny Rabbit
It was Wednesday, and none of us had work. The syncing of our schedules was most likely a direct result of Hannah’s intimidating nature and ignorance of the word “no.” I had to feel a little bit sorry for our employers … and I also had to hope that she hadn’t broken too many kneecaps to get her way.
In any case, the Seaside City circle of friends that I’d become a part of made use of each Wednesday for a pilgrimage to the beach in celebration of the weekly solstice.
Earlier that morning, Hannah had told me that we would all be meeting up somewhere on the beach between the Seventh and Eighth Street entrances. But of course, Hannah’s careless directions were less useful than an upside-down map. I spent a good ten minutes pacing the beach, my task made all the more difficult by the incredible number of people that managed to squeeze onto the sand. It was packed like a shopping mall the day before Christmas!
“Hey, guys,” I said when I finally reached them. I dodged a few dirty looks from the people I’d stepped on.
“Hey, my man,” Blake said, waving a hand in greeting. He and Michael had already adopted the official tanning position. I could almost see the UV rays baking into their golden skin.
“Hey,” Emma said pleasantly … and that was it. I did a double take. No comment about my awesome bathing suit? Nothing about how cute I looked?
Wow. Hannah was good.
“Here, there’s some room over here,” Daniel said, gesturing to the bit of sand next to his towel. Oh my God.
“Oh, I—”
Hannah cut me off. “No time for stuttering now, Will! If your towel isn’t down in about four and a half seconds, your spot will be forcefully removed from you by that very scary gentleman over there.”
Sure enough, the frighteningly brawny man was salivating over the empty space I was about to occupy. He looked ready to pounce. In record time, I had my towel down on the sand … and remained acutely aware of the fact that it overlapped Daniel’s a little bit.
Shrugging out of the straps of my knapsack and kicking off my flip-flops, I—whoa, for the love of all things arousing, off came Daniel’s shirt! Right there in front of me! Houston, we have liftoff!
Looking desperately to Hannah for help, I found her to be of no use; she was already laying on her back, soaking up the rays. And Daniel joined her, stretching out on the blanket with his hands behind his head, gloriously shirtless and—
No, Will! I mentally slapped myself. We are not doing this. Not here!
I sat down on the towel, hugging my knees to my chest. Behind my back, I could hear our neighboring beachgoers grumbling about me taking up too much space.
My eyes flickered back and forth between the ocean, the lifeguard tower, the boardwalk, my feet, the sky … anywhere to avoid looking at the lovely expanse of naked skin. But I am human and, as such, share the weak willpower (or complete lack thereof) of every other member of my species.
So I looked. No! I hungrily devoured the sight before me. My eyes roamed over the ridges of his stomach, the swells of his arms, and the way the five assorted plastic beads on his twine necklace rested in the dip of the planes of his chest. And when I finally managed to tear
my gaze away, I felt equal parts terrible and tingly.
I spent another few minutes going over the extensively detailed 3D model of Daniel Clark that I had just constructed in my mind and stumbled upon something funny. A precise, short scar on his stomach. It must have been a glitch in my brain’s programming, because the scar looked exactly the same as the one I had seen on Hannah a few days earlier.
Nevertheless, always the curious child that I was, I snuck another quick look, and sure enough, there it was. The exact same.
“What is that?” I whispered quietly.
“Huh?” Daniel asked, turning his head to the side and squinting his eyes in the sunlight.
I blushed. “Oh, um, you have a … scar. Like Hannah’s.”
He grinned in a way that was reassuring; I hadn’t offended him. “Hannah,” he called, “Will is curious about our matching scars.”
“If it’s private—”
Daniel laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Hannah gets a kick out of explaining it. Makes her feel smart, knowing all the medical terms.”
“I can hear you,” Hannah muttered testily as she sat up.
“I know that,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever … I embrace my ignorance.”
I shrugged. “So what’s up with them?”
“Will,” Hannah started, narrowing her eyes and making a very doctor-like tent with her fingers, “are you familiar with poststreptococcal glomerulonephritis?”
“Uh,” I said.
“It’s kidney failure,” Hannah explained, “stemming from the bacteria that causes strep throat. I had a particularly bad case.”
“Oh.”
“I contracted it when I was ten years old,” she told me. “My kidneys didn’t work anymore. I didn’t really know what was going on … it was really scary.”
Daniel looked sad. He reached out and put a hand on his sister’s leg. “It was scary.”
“But Daniel was there for me,” Hannah said, putting her hand on his and smiling proudly. “He donated one of his kidneys to me. He saved my life. And I’ll forever be grateful to him for that.”
“Wow,” I whispered, looking at Daniel in awe. “You did that for her?”
“Yeah, I did.”
I shook my head. “That’s … beautiful!”
Daniel ducked his head, embarrassed. “I did what I had to do. She’s my best friend.”
“Well, excuse me,” Blake said irritably.
Daniel chuckled. “You know what I mean, buddy.”
“You’d better back off of my girl, Daniel,” Emma warned. “I’ve already staked my claim in the best friend department.”
“Sorry,” Daniel mumbled, putting up his hands defensively.
“You better be,” Blake cautioned, smirking.
“Yeah, watch your back … punk,” Emma added. It was nice to see the two of them working together, even if it was to verbally abuse one of their friends.
As everyone settled back into tanning mode, I decided to follow their lead. The Big Summer commanded that I bronze my skin, and so it would be done. I lay back, folding my arms behind my head, and enjoyed the warmth of the giant burning fireball in the sky.
“Uh, Will,” Daniel whispered to me after a few minutes.
I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. “Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m, um, tanning.”
“Like that?” he asked quizzically, frowning at my T-shirt.
“Well, yeah.”
He wriggled closer to me and murmured softly, “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you uncomfortable?”
I exhaled slowly. “Uh … yeah.”
He smiled sadly and looked me in the eyes, frowning a little as he tried thinking of what to say. “Tan lines are like the borders of comfort, Will. The simple tint of your skin shows people that you’re not afraid … or that you are.”
“I know.”
“See that girl over there?” he asked, nodding in her direction. I followed his gaze and saw a burnt strip of leather wearing a bikini.
“Yeah.”
He laughed quietly. “Maybe it’s a bit of an extreme example, but you have to admit that that’s a very thorough tan. She’s comfortable with herself.”
I nodded.
“And that guy,” he said, pointing at a teenager wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and baseball cap, huddled under an umbrella, “is not.”
I nodded again.
Having made his point, Daniel scooted back over a few inches and mumbled, “It’s up to you the way that the world sees you.”
He was right. I didn’t want him to be right because my self-esteem already took the form of a bird trying to fly with only one wing. And I knew I was at the bottom of the awesome-beach-body chain. How could I possibly hope to hold my own against Daniel, Blake, or Michael?
But I did know that The Big Summer was about being different. I was supposed to be reinventing myself, and what Daniel had said made perfect sense. The change starts in the mirror.
And so it was, with a certain reluctance and my stomach flipping over on itself, that I peeled off my T-shirt and felt the hot rays of the sun on my bare chest.
I chanced a look over at Daniel. He was looking at me, nodding proudly. I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of my partial nudity, and he flashed a goofy smile.
Then we both returned to our tanning. I plugged in my headphones and relaxed in the heat, falling into the music and settling into that meditative state of consciousness that one does while sunbathing … the kind that puts you in danger of actually falling asleep and ending up with glowing red skin.
At one point, Daniel shifted slightly on his towel, and the side of his left foot came to rest against my leg. Needless to say, I could feel every single nerve ending on that tiny patch of skin.
After a while, my playlist came to an end, and I peacefully opened my eyes … and stifled a squeal when I saw Katie Applegate standing above me. She had one hand on her hip and one at her forehead, shielding her precious eyes from the sun.
Sitting up, I caught the eyes of Hannah, Emma, Blake, and Michael, the four of them also at attention and grimacing.
“Daniel,” Katie mewled, nudging him with her foot. “Danny-boo.”
“Hmm,” he muttered, groggily propping himself up.
“Are you going to make any room for me?” She pouted, gesturing to the clear lack of space.
“Um,” he said, looking to his friends for help. They merely shrugged, frowning up at Katie.
“Terribly sorry,” Hannah told her sweetly. “If we’d only have known earlier that you’d be coming to see my brother on his day with his friends, we’d totally have made space.”
“Pity,” Emma mused.
Blake shook his head regretfully. “Terrible.”
“Daniel?” Katie asked, ignoring the others.
“Yeah, uh, take my spot. I’ll just sit somewhere …”
She grinned as her boyfriend removed his towel from the sand and she spread her own out. Though, Katie’s idea of a beach towel was clearly far different from that of us peasants; hers was thick and fluffy, with a tag bearing an elaborate cursive logo.
As Daniel moved dejectedly from his spot, she grabbed him about the arm and pulled him down so that their lips were touching … and opening, and closing, and opening, and allowing tongue to exit and …
I had to look away. Because the acid was churning in my stomach and eating away at my heart. Because he was straight. And he had picked her!
In that moment, I felt a terrible blackness blossom in my heart … a surge of hatred for this girl. It was hard to believe that I had defended her in front of my friends. They were all right, of course. She was pure evil. And I loathed her more intensely than I’d ev
er loathed another human being. Was I being petty, possessive, and immature? Perhaps. But I knew that having her to direct my hate at lessened the hurt.
Katie Applegate lay down next to me. Her enormous straw sunhat covered half of my body in shade, and she flung her tote bag next to my head, kicking sand up into my hair. Great. Thanks, Katie.
“Um, could you move over please? I can hardly breathe,” she said, stretching out her limbs for emphasis.
A moment later, I realized that she was addressing me. I took a few seconds to recover from the shock of being honored by Katie Applegate acknowledging my existence. And then I said, “Actually, I’m really comfortable where I am. But if you’re feeling a bit cramped, you could try closing your legs a little bit. Maybe that’ll open up some space for you.”
There was a moment of poignant silence while my new friends’ mouths dropped open. Michael was blinking rapidly and looking at me with admiration.
I felt pretty pleased with myself—especially when Katie harrumphed and resigned to ignore us—until I looked over at Daniel. His shoulders were slumped, his face downcast, and his sad eyes boring holes into the sand. Still, I couldn’t say that I felt bad. She deserved it.
I tried to forget about my developing feelings for Daniel and my newfound detestation of Katie and actually enjoy my day off work. Despite it being The Big Summer … it was still summer summer. I was on vacation and therefore entitled to enjoy myself at least a little bit … right? I mean, I didn’t have to spend the whole time soul-searching and self-remodeling.
We did end up getting into the water at one point, which was nice. The sun was high in the sky and blisteringly hot. The water was cold and refreshing, with nice, comfy warm patches conveniently located next to young children or otherwise respectable adults. And though it was horribly crowded, and I ended up getting whacked in the head with a runaway boogie board, I had a good time.
Hannah and Emma were fairly cool about the whole swimming thing. They bobbed up and down with the waves, talking about this or that and wringing out their hair as it got progressively wetter.
Blake and Michael were complete buffoons, throwing themselves around, wrestling, and showing off for the girls (who showed a certain amount of interest).
The Big Summer Page 11