“Is she?” my mother says.
If the rumors are true, Sylvie is not a good kid. There is a story about her and Alexis making out in a Ferris wheel while all the guys watched, and the whole group supposedly gets drunk sometimes. They are good students though, so most adults don’t suspect them of anything.
It’s hard for me to imagine Finny drunk, or liking a girl who makes out with another girl for entertainment. I wonder if he’s still shy when he is drinking, if he blushed when he watched Sylvie kissing Alexis.
I wonder what Aunt Angelina would do if she knew about Finny’s friends.
“Oh,” I say, “Sylvie is a cheerleader. She’s on student council and the honor roll. She’s too busy being perfect to be shooting up heroin on the side.”
“All right, all right,” my mother says. We stand and throw away our plastic bowls and spoons and walk out to the car.
I imagine Finny loving Sylvie, but sometimes wishing she were different, the way I sometimes wish Jamie were different. I imagine him being aroused as she made out with Alexis in front of everyone and afterward asking her never to do it again. I imagine him feeling free and confident as he drinks with his friends, feeling included with them, a part of something.
In the car, I roll down the window and feel the warm night air blowing on my face. My mother is quiet next to me. I wonder where Aunt Angelina and Finny are tonight, what they are talking about.
I imagine Finny and I sneaking out of our houses to fool around down at the creek. I imagine leaving my blinds open for him when I change clothes. I imagine his hand moving up my thigh as we watch a movie with a blanket thrown over our laps.
I imagine that even though we were friends as children, we wouldn’t have stayed children just because we were together.
13
The last day of school feels as if it is truly the last, as if I am being set free not for three months but thirty years. My scary finals are all over; all I have today are my English and health finals. I’m taking honors English in the fall, and the health final should be simple. Drugs and sex are bad; water-skiing is good.
There is hugging and squealing on The Steps to Nowhere. Sasha is the only one studying; the rest of us are more or less free. Jamie kisses me loudly and wraps his arm over my shoulders.
“Ugh, I cannot wait for today to be over,” he says.
“Me neither,” Noah says.
“You still haven’t signed my yearbook yet, babe,” I say. This is the third day I’ve asked him. He keeps saying he will do it later.
“I know, I know. Give it to me,” he says. I hand it to him and he opens his book bag.
“Why don’t you just sign it now?” I say.
“I don’t feel like it right now. I’ll give it to you at lunch,” he says. He shoves my yearbook into his bag and zips it closed.
“Fine,” I say. I’ve found it’s just easier to let him have his way on all the little things that shouldn’t matter.
“Hey, Mom says she can drive for our girls’ day tomorrow,” Angie says.
“Yay,” Sasha says between flash cards.
“Yeah, well, you know that we’re going to have a boys’ day tomorrow too,” Alex says.
“Okay,” I say.
“And we’re going to do boy stuff that you aren’t invited to,” Jamie says.
“All right, whatever that means,” Brooke says. “But we’re just going to the mall.”
“Hey, guys, let’s go to the mall,” Noah says.
“No,” Sasha says, “you cannot go to the mall. We are.”
“We can get our nails done,” Alex says.
“And our hair. I need highlights,” Jamie says.
“Oh, shut up,” Brooke says. “You don’t even know what highlights are.”
“Why is it you guys get weird every time we do something alone?” Angie says.
“Yeah, do you think we’re plotting against you?” I ask.
“No,” Jamie says, but for once neither he nor any of the others have a comeback. The boys start talking about going to Noah’s tomorrow to play some video game.
***
I love you, Jamie’s note says. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. All I want from life is to marry you and have our family. Have a good summer. With me.
I close my yearbook and stuff it back in my book bag. Jamie didn’t give it to me at lunch; it’s now the end of the day. He asked me not to read it in front of the others, so I told everybody I had to go to the bathroom before we walked to Jamie’s house. I flush the toilet even though I didn’t use it, because Brooke came to the bathroom with me. When I come out of the stall, she is staring at herself in the mirror. I wash my hands and look over at her.
“Hey, are you okay?” I say. It takes her a moment to answer.
“Yeah,” she says, “Sorry, I just zoned out for a second there.”
“It’s cool,” I say. “I can’t believe that we’re not freshmen anymore. Can you?”
“No, not really,” she says.
***
At Jamie’s pool, we play chicken-fight, climbing on the boys’ shoulders and knocking each other down. Jamie and I win, and he parades around with me on his shoulders, then suddenly drops me to make me scream. I pout; he kisses me and then dunks me. A dunking war breaks out that the boys win even though there are more of us. They high five and we roll our eyes.
We lean up against the wall in the shallow end and the boys wrap their arms around our bare waists. The sun is warm on our heads and the water. It is summer and we are free.
The pizzas arrive and we lay about eating by the pool until we think we’ll never have to eat again. We decide to ignore the one-hour rule and jump back in. The boys begin to wrestle and we stand to the side and watch them. After a while, I get bored, and I’m thinking I’ll try to get Jamie alone in his room, when I realize that Brooke and Angie have been gone for a long time. I go inside and pad barefoot across the kitchen. The bathroom door is closed. I lean my head against it. I can hear them talking on the other side. I knock.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask. There is a pause, and then I hear their voices again. Angie opens the door a crack.
“Are you alone?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say. She opens the door enough for me to squeeze in.
Brooke is sitting on the bathtub. Her eyes are red and she is dressed in her shorts and shirt again.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong?” I ask. Brooke looks down at our feet on the tile floor.