Josh was waiting for me by the bonfire. Caroline stood off to one side, her arms crossed over her chest. She was laughing.
The fireworks were reaching their peak now. I could hear “The Star-Spangled Banner,” its tinkly notes rising and falling with each boom and crash. In the midst of all of the noise and color, I told myself I had to look at Caroline Dawes. Every other time she’d been mean I’d let her words just sink down over me, like a blanket shaken out by the corners. But this was going to be different. Whatever she said to me, I would take head-on.
I remembered Isabel, the day she’d taken me home and begun to set me straight. And I saw her tap her temple with one finger, her face close to mine, saying: Believe in yourself up here and it will make you stronger than you could ever imagine.
And my mother’s words: Being self-confident doesn’t necessarily start inside. It starts with the rest of the world, and leads back to you.
Then, with one huge, spectacular explosion, the fireworks were over. And the crowd cheered and clapped, whistling with appreciation.
I stood up straight, put my shoulders back, and looked at Caroline Dawes.
This seemed to throw her. I looked at her hard, focusing on the white and brown of her eyes. They were just normal, nothing more. She didn’t look away, but I didn’t expect her to. We stared at each other for what seemed like a very long time as everyone started to pack up and walk to their cars. The show was over.
“Hey,” I heard Josh say. He took a few steps toward me. “What took you so long?”
“I can’t believe you,” Caroline said to me in her snarky voice. She was really too pretty a girl to be so ugly. “You don’t belong here.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. Just being there was enough, for now.
“She’s a slut,” she told Josh, and I watched how her mouth twisted with the words. “Everyone knows it at home.”
And Josh glanced at her, then at me. I suddenly realized I didn’t care whether he believed her or not. I didn’t care what happened next. I had faced the enemy. The rest of the battle was just details.
“You’re pathetic,” she said to me, and started to turn away.
“And you’re such a bitch,” I said back. And I laughed, surprised at how my voice sounded, strong and steady. “I feel sorry for you, Caroline.”
“I hate you,” she snapped.
“You should get over that,” I told her. And I imagined Isabel, eyes closed, saying these same words. “It’s unhealthy. Just let it go”
Her mouth fell open.
I felt someone beside me. “Come on,” Isabel said, closing her fingers over mine. “We’re going.” Caroline looked at her, the way pretty girls do at girls who are much prettier.
“Okay,” I said, and I smiled at her. We started to walk off but Josh ran after us.
“Colie,” he said, and beyond him I could see Caroline still watching, her friends all around her. She was talking angrily, the words spewing out. I didn’t have to wonder what she was saying about me. I’d heard it all before.
“Yeah?”
“I, um, I’m sorry about my cousin,” he said. “We’re leaving tomorrow night, but maybe I can call you or something?”
Beside me, Isabel shuffled her feet in the sand. I could see Morgan crossing the dunes, the blanket folded neatly in her arms.
“I work at the Last Chance,” I told him, as Isabel tugged me away. “You can find me there.”
“I,” Morgan said as we bumped down the dirt road toward home, “have no idea what happened tonight.”
“I’ll tell you everything later,” Isabel said to her, patting her knee. “But it was very, very cool.”
When we pulled into the driveway, the headlights lit up the front porch, where a man was sitting on the steps. He stood up and squinted at us.
“Oh,” Morgan said, one hand flying up to her mouth.
“Oh,” Isabel groaned. “Great.”
“Mark!” Morgan shrieked, hardly even pausing to stop the car before she got out and ran across the grass, up the steps and into his arms. We were rolling toward the beach until Isabel reached down and yanked up the e-brake. “I thought you were back in Durham tonight.”
“Plans changed,” he said. “I wanted to surprise you.”
We watched from the car as they kissed, a movie-style kiss that lasted for a long time.
“Great,” Isabel grumbled. “Now where am I supposed to go?”
“Come over to Mira’s.”
“Nah. I think I’ll just take Frank up on that clambake on the sound side. I can walk from here.” She got out of the car and held the seat for me, then reached down and salvaged the last of her beers, tucking one in each pocket of her shorts.
“Hey, Isabel,” Mark called to her through the dark.
“What’s up, Mark,” she replied tonelessly.
“I want you to meet Colie,” Morgan said, taking him by the hand, leading him down the steps and over to me. As he got closer, I saw he looked just like his picture. Not everyone does. He was tall and tan, very athletic, with short black hair and white teeth that seemed to glow in the dark. “Colie, this is Mark. Mark, this is Colie.”
“Hi,” he said. “Morgan’s told me a lot about you.”
“I’m going,” Isabel announced. She was already halfway down the driveway.
“Where?” Morgan called after her, but Isabel didn’t answer.
“Some clambake,” I explained. “With that guy she met at the fireworks.”
“So that’s where you were,” Mark said, slipping his arm around Morgan’s waist. She had the goofiest smile on her face. “I missed everything.”
“No you didn’t,” she said suddenly. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a box, then opened it and shook something out into her hand. “Got a match?”
Mark handed her a lighter and she flicked it, then held the long object toward the flame, stepping back as it erupted into a shower of sparks between us.
“The sparklers,” I said. I’d forgotten all about them.
“Happy Fourth of July,” she said to Mark, and he kissed her.
I started toward Mira’s, wanting some time alone to savor everything that had happened, from the Chick Night to my triumph over Caroline Dawes.
“Colie, stay and light these with us,” Morgan called after me.
“I should go,” I said.