As soon as I got back inside, I stormed into the kitchen. There was one light on; Conrad was sitting at the table spooning into a watermelon. "Where's Cam Cameron?" he asked wryly.
I had to think for a second about whether he was being nice or making fun of me. His expression looked normal and bland, so I took it as a little of both. If he was going to pretend our fight from before hadn't happened, then so would I.
"Who knows," I said, rummaging around the fridge and pulling out a yogurt. "Who cares?"
"Lover's spat?"
The smug look on his face made me want to slap him. "Mind your own business," I said, sitting down next to him with a spoon and a container of strawberry yogurt. It was Susannah's fat-free stuff, and the top looked watery and solid. I closed the foil flap on the yogurt and pushed it away.
Conrad pushed the watermelon over to me. "You shouldn't be so hard on people, Belly." Then he stood up and said, "And put your shirt on."
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I scooped out a chunk of watermelon and stuck my tongue out at his retreating figure. Why did he make me feel like I was still thirteen? In my head I heard my mother's voice--"Nobody can make you feel like anything, Belly. Not without your permission. Eleanor Roosevelt said that. I almost named you after her." Blah, blah, blah. But she was kind of right. I wasn't giving him permission to make me feel bad, not anymore. I just wished my hair had at least been wet, or I'd had sand in my clothes, so he could have thought we'd been up to something, even if we hadn't been.
I sat at the table and ate watermelon. I ate it until I had scooped out half of the middle. I was waiting for Cam to come back inside, and when he didn't, I only felt madder. Part of me was tempted to lock the door on him. He'd probably meet some random homeless guy and become best friends with him, and then he'd tell me the man's life story the next day. Not that there were any homeless guys on our end of the beach. Not that I'd ever seen a homeless person in Cousins, for that matter. But if there was, Cam would find him.
Only, Cam didn't come back to the house. He just left. I heard his car start, watched from the downstairs hallway as he backed down the driveway. I wanted to run after his car and yell at him. He was supposed to come back. What if I'd ruined things and he didn't like me anymore? What if I never saw him again?
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That night I lay in bed, thinking about how summer romances really do happen so fast, and then they're over so fast.
But the next morning, when I went to the deck to eat my toast, I found an empty water bottle on the steps that led down to the beach. Poland Spring, the kind Cam was always drinking. There was a piece of paper inside, a note. A message in a bottle. The ink was a little smeared, but I could still read what it said. It said, "IOU one skinny-dip."
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chapter thirty - three
Jeremiah told me I could come hang by the pool while he life guarded. I'd never been inside the country club pool. It was huge and fancy, so I jumped at the chance. The country club seemed like a mysterious place. Conrad hadn't let us come the summer before; he'd said it would be embarrassing.
Midafternoon, I rode my bike over. Everything there was lush and green; it was surrounded by a golf course. There was a girl at a table with a clipboard, and I went over and told her I was there to see Jeremiah, and she waved me in.
I spotted Jeremiah before he saw me. He was sitting in the lifeguard chair, talking to a dark-haired girl in a white bikini. He was laughing, and so was she. He looked so important in the chair. I'd never seen him at an actual job before.
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Suddenly I felt shy. I walked over slowly, my flip-flops slapping along the pavement. "Hey," I said when I was a few feet away.
Jeremiah looked down from his chair and grinned at me. "You came," he said, squinting at me and shielding his eyes with his hands like a visor.
"Yup." I swung my canvas bag back and forth, like a pendulum. The bag had my name on it in cursive. It was from L.L .Bean, a gift from Susannah.
"Belly, this is Yolie. She's my co-lifeguard."
Yolie reached over and shook my hand. It struck me as a businessy thing to do for someone in a bikini. She had a firm handshake, a nice grip, something my mother would have appreciated. "Hi, Belly," she said. "I've heard a lot about you."
"You have?" I looked up at Jeremiah.
He smirked. "Yeah. I told her all about the way you snore so loud that I can hear you down the hall."
I smacked his foot. "Shut up." Turning to Yolie, I said, "It's nice to meet you."
She smiled at me. She had dimples in both cheeks and a crooked bottom tooth. "You too. Jere, do you want to take your break now?"
"In a little bit," he said. "Belly, go work on your sun damage."
I stuck my tongue out at him and spread out my towel on a lounge chair not too far away. The pool was a perfect
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turquoise, and there were two diving boards, one high and one low. There were a ton of kids splashing around inside, and I figured I'd swim too when I got too hot to stand it. I just lay there with my sunglasses on and my eyes closed, tanning and listening to my music.
Jeremiah came over after a while. He sat on the edge of my chair and drank from my thermos of Kool-Aid. "She's pretty," I said.
"Who? Yolie?" He shrugged. "She's nice. One of my many admirers."
"Ha!"
"So what about you? Cam Cameron, huh? Cam the vegetarian. Cam the straight edge."
I tried not to smile. "So what? I like him." "He's kind of a dork."
"That's what I like about him. He's . . . different." He frowned slightly. "Different from who?" "I don't know." But I did know. I knew exactly who he was different from.
"You mean he's not a dick like Conrad?"
I laughed, and so did he. "Yeah, exactly. He's nice."
"Just nice, huh?"
"More than nice."
"So you're over him, then? For real?" We both knew the "him" he was talking about. "Yes," I told him.
"I don't believe you," Jeremiah said, watching me
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closely---just like when he was trying to figure out what kind of hand I had in Uno.
I took off my sunglasses and looked him in the eye. "It's true. I'm over him."
"We'll see," Jeremiah said, standing up. "My break's over. Are you okay over here? Wait around and I'll drive us home. I can put your bike in the back."
I nodded, and watched him walk back to the lifeguard chair. Jeremiah was a good friend. He'd always been good to me, watched out for me.
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chapter thirty - four
My mother and Susannah sat in beach chairs, and I lay on an old Ralph Lauren teddy bear towel. It was my favorite one because it was extra long, and soft from so many washings.
"What are you up to tonight, bean?" my mother asked me. I loved it when she called me bean. It reminded me of being six years old and falling asleep in her bed.
Proudly I told them, "Me and Cam are going to Putt Putt."
We used to go all the time as kids. Mr. Fisher would take us, and he was always pitting the boys against one another. "Twenty dollars for the first one to get a hole in one." "Twenty dollars for the winner." Steven loved it. I think he wished Mr. Fisher was our dad. He actually could've been. Susannah told me my mother had
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dated him first, but my mother had handed him over to Susannah because she knew they'd be perfect together.
Mr. Fisher included me in the mini golf competitions, but he never expected me to win. Of course I never did. I hated mini golf anyway. I hated the little pencils and the fake turf. It was all so annoyingly perfect. Kind of like Mr. Fisher. Conrad wanted so badly to be like him, and I used to hope he never would. Be like him, I mean.
The last time I had been to Putt Putt was when I was thirteen and I'd gotten my period for the first time. I was wearing white cutoffs, and Steven had been scared. He'd thought I had cut myself or something--for a second, I'd thought so too. After that, after getting my period by t
he fourth hole, I never wanted to go back. Not even when the boys invited me. So going with Cam felt like I was reclaiming Putt Putt, taking it back for my twelve-year-old self. It had even been my idea to go.
My mother said, "Can you be home early? I want us to spend a little time together, maybe watch a movie."
"How early? You guys go to bed at, like, nine."
My mother took her sunglasses off and looked at me. She had two indentations on her nose where her glasses had been. "I wish you'd spend more time at the house."
"I'm at the house right now," I reminded her.
She acted like she didn't hear me. "You've been spending so much time with this
person--"
"You said you liked him!" I looked at Susannah for
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support, and she looked back at me sympathetically.
My mother sighed, and Susannah broke in then, saying, "We do like Cam. We just miss you, Belly. We completely accept the fact that you have an actual life." She adjusted her floppy straw hat and winked at me. "We just want you to include us a little bit!"
I smiled in spite of myself. "Okay," I said, lying back down on the towel. "I'll come home early. We'll watch a movie."
"Done," my mother said.
I closed my eyes and put my headphones on. Maybe she had a point. I had been spending all my time with Cam. Maybe she really did miss me. It was just, she couldn't take for granted that I was going to spend every night at home like I had every other summer. I was almost sixteen, practically an adult. My mother had to accept that I couldn't be her bean forever.
They thought I was asleep when they started talking. But I wasn't. I could hear what they were saying, even over the music.
"Conrad's been behaving like a little shit," my mother said in a low voice. "He left all these beer bottles out on the deck this morning for me to clean up. It's getting out of hand."
Susannah sighed. "I think he knows something's up. He's been like this for months now. He's so sensitive, I know it's going to hit him harder."
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"Don't you think it's time you told the boys?" Whenever my mother said "Don't you think," all she really meant was, "I think. So you should too."
"When the summer's over. That's soon enough."
"Beck," my mother began, "I think it might be time."
"I'll know when it's time," Susannah said. "Don't push me, Laur."
I knew there was nothing my mother could say that would change her mind. Susannah was soft, but she was resolute, stubborn as a mule when she wanted to be. She was pure steel underneath all her softness.
I wanted to tell them both, Conrad knows already and so does Jeremiah, but I couldn't. It wouldn't be right. It wasn't my business to tell.
Susannah wanted it to be some kind of perfect summer, where the parents were still together and everything was the way it had always been. Those kinds of summers don't exist anymore, I wanted to tell her.
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chapter thirty - five
Around sunset, Cam came and picked me up for mini golf. I waited for him on the front porch, and when he pulled into the driveway, I ran up to his car. Instead of going to the passenger side, I walked right around to the driver's side. "Can I drive?" I asked. I knew he'd say yes.
He shook his head at me and said, dryly, "How does anybody ever say no to you?"
I batted my eyelashes at him. "No one ever does," I said, even though it wasn't true, not even a little bit.
I opened the car door, and he scooted over.
Backing out of the driveway, I told him, "I have to be home early tonight."
"No problem." He cleared his throat. "And, um, can you slow down a little? The speed limit is thirty-five on this road."
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As I drove, he kept looking over at me and smiling. "What? Why are you smiling?" I asked. I felt like covering my face up with my T-shirt.
"Instead of a ski-slope nose, you have, like, a little bunny slope." He reached over and tapped it. I slapped his hand away.
"I hate my nose," I told him.
Cam looked perplexed. "Why? Your nose is cute. It's the imperfections that make things beautiful."
I wondered if that meant he thought I was beautiful. I wondered if that was why he liked me, my imperfections.
We ended up staying out later than I'd planned. The people in front of us took forever on each hole; they were a couple, and they kept stopping to kiss. It was annoying. I wanted to tell them, Mini golf is not where you go to hook up. That's what the drive-in's for. And then after, Cam was hungry, so we stopped for fried clams, and by that time it was after ten, and I knew my mother and Susannah would already be asleep.
He let me drive home. I didn't even have to ask; he just handed me the keys. In the driveway when we got home, I turned off the ignition. All of the lights in the house were off except for Conrad's. "I don't want to go inside yet," I told Cam.
"I thought you had to be home early."
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"I did. I do. I'm just not ready to go inside yet." I turned on the radio, and we sat there for five minutes listening.
Then Cam cleared his throat and said, "Can I kiss you?"
I wished he hadn't asked. I wished he'd just done it. Asking made everything feel awkward; it put me in a position where I had to say yes. I wanted to roll my eyes at him but instead I said, "Um, okay. But next time, please don't ask. Asking someone if they want to kiss you is weird. You're supposed to just do it."
I regretted saying it right away, as soon as I saw the look on Cam's face. "Never mind," he said, red-faced. "Forget I asked."
"Cam, I'm sorr--" Before I could finish, he leaned over and kissed me. His cheek was stubbly and it felt kind of rough but nice.
When it was over, he said, "Okay?"
I smiled and said, "Okay." I unbuckled my seat belt. "Good night."
Then I got out of the car, and he came around and took the driver's seat. We hugged, and I found myself wishing that Conrad was watching. Even though it didn't matter, even though I didn't even like him anymore. I just wanted him to know I didn't like him anymore, to really know it. To see it with his own two eyes.
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I ran up to the front door, and I didn't have to turn around to know that Cam would wait until I was inside before he drove away.
The next day my mother didn't mention anything, but she didn't have to. She could make me feel guilty without saying a word.
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Chapter thirty - six
My birthday always marked the beginning of the end of summer. It was my final thing to look forward to. And this summer I was turning sixteen. Sweet sixteen was supposed to be special, a really big deal--Taylor was renting out a reception hall for hers, and her cousin was DJ-ing and she was inviting the whole school. She'd had it planned for ages. My birthdays here were always the same: cake; gag gifts from the boys; and looking through all the old photo albums, with me sandwiched between Susannah and my mom on the couch. Every birthday I've ever had has been here, in this house. There are pictures of my mother sitting on the porch pregnant, with a glass of iced tea and a wide brimmed hat, and there's me, inside her belly. There are pictures of the four of us, Conrad, Steven, Jeremiah, and me, running around
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on the beach--I was naked except for my birthday hat, chasing after them. My mother didn't put me in a bathing suit until I was four years old. She just let me run around wild.
I didn't expect this birthday to be any different. Which, was comforting and also kind of depressing. Except, Steven wouldn't be there--my first birthday without him trying to elbow in and blow out my candles before I could.
I already knew what my parents were giving me: Steven's old car; they were getting it detailed with a new paint job and everything. When I got back to school, I would take driver's ed, and soon I wouldn't have to ask for a ride ever again.
I couldn't help but wonder if anyone back home remembered it was my birthday. Besides Taylor. She remembered; she always
did. She called me at exactly 9:02 in the morning to sing happy birthday, every year. That was nice and all, but the trouble with having a summer birthday and being away was you couldn't have a party with all your school friends. You didn't get the balloons taped to your locker or any of it. I'd never really minded, but just then I did, a little.
My mother told me I could invite Cam over. But I didn't. I didn't even tell him it was my birthday. I didn't want him to feel like he had to do something. But it was more than that. I figured that if this birthday was going
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to be like every other one, I might as well really have it be like every other one. It should just be us, my summer family.
When I woke up that morning, the house smelled like butter and sugar. Susannah had baked a birthday cake. It was three layers and it was pink with a white border. She wrote in loopy white frosting happy birthday, bells . She'd lit a few sparkler candles on top, and they sizzled and sparked like mad fireflies. She and my mother started to sing, and Susannah gestured for Conrad and Jeremiah to join in. They both did, off-key and obnoxious.
"Make a wish, Belly," my mother said.
I was still in my pajamas, and I couldn't stop smiling. The past four birthdays I had wished for the same thing. Not this year. This year I would wish for something else. I watched the sparklers die down, and then I closed my eyes and blew.
"Open my present first," Susannah urged. She thrust a small box wrapped in pink paper into my hands.
My mother looked at her questioningly. "What did you do, Beck?"
She smiled a mysterious smile and squeezed my wrist. "Open it, honey."
I ripped the paper off and opened the box. It was a pearl necklace, a whole strand of tiny creamy white pearls with a shiny gold clasp. It looked old, not like something