After dinner, we walked down to the arcade, a building in the main part of town that’s old and musty but still kind of fun. “Want to play pinball?” he asked, and I was glad to do whatever, but it turned out I was pretty good at this machine called Eight Ball. When Joel ran out of quarters, I cashed in another three dollars and we played for ages, winning replays until finally those quarters were done, too.
“You want something to eat?” Joel asked, pointing to a snack bar. “Candy bar or some fries or something?”
“No, thanks,” I said, thinking I didn’t want anything on my teeth in case he kissed me again.
“How about we split a Coke?”
“Okay.”
He ordered it and I looked around the room, wondering what it would be like if this was where I lived and I got to hang out here. Kids were playing air hockey and foosball, which I was good at because we had one in the game room at home and I’d been practicing. “You play?” I asked, pointing.
“Yeah.” He offered me the Coke and I took a sip, thinking that his lips had been right on that straw a second ago. His expression was quizzical when he tilted his head. “You do?”
“Yes. My dad taught me. He’s into all kinds of games.”
“Cool.” He eyed the table, where a row of quarters waited. “It looks like a lot of people are in line to play. Let’s go outside. If you won’t be too cold.”
“Nope.” I had my rain jacket over a sweater. Even if it poured, I’d be fine. Joel, on the other hand, only had a jean jacket. “You’re the one.”
He took my hand, right in front of everybody in the room, and led me toward the door. “I’ll be fine.”
I wondered if everyone saw it, that a boy liked me, that he was holding my hand. I felt every inch of it acutely, the flatness of his palm, his long fingers. We walked without speaking down the covered pavement by the shops. Rain poured overhead, and I could hear the ocean.
My blood seemed hot, and under my hair, my neck was burning up. I wondered if we would kiss again, if he wanted to. And just then, he looked over his shoulder and drew me into an alcove that led to the stormy beach. It was empty.
He tucked me up against the wall and, with his eyes dark and liquid, asked, “Can I kiss you again?”
I nodded, and he lowered his head and our lips locked. We kissed for a long time, just our lips, and then sometimes Joel kissed my neck, which turned me on so much that I even made a sound. When he was doing that, he slid his hand under my sweater until he touched bare skin and kept kissing my neck. Everything in my body felt alive, wild, free, and I put my hands under his shirt, too, opening my palms to feel his waist. It was hot and silky.
He found my lips again and pressed our bodies together. “You okay?”
I swallowed, already missing the taste of his mouth. “Yeah.”
He smiled. “Me too. You taste good.”
“So do you.”
I lifted up on my toes and kissed him again, pressing our chests together. He held his hands on my waist. “I think I need to walk you back home.”
“Okay.”
We held hands all the way, talking about color and light and things I never dreamed I’d talk about with a boy. At my grandma’s driveway, he kissed me again, lightly. “See you soon, Phoebe.”
I nodded, and watched him walk away, lean and loose limbed, and I thought I would never feel so alight again in my life.
In fact, it was a very long time.
Wednesday before Thanksgiving
Dear Suze,
Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was a busy day! I went to Seaside with my grandmother to get groceries and when we got back, I helped her cook. She says cooking is really important and that I need to learn to be good at it. Good food is important for your body, and serving it beautifully makes an ordinary day festive. That’s nice, right? My mom doesn’t care about dinner. We usually only all sit down together once in a while, and my dad doesn’t really cook, so he makes TV dinners when he’s the one who is home. I love it when I’m here and we eat together every night, even if it’s just soup and bread, which it is a lot.
Joel came over when we got back and stayed for dinner, which was Amma’s mac and cheese, which he ate so much of that he had to lean back and burp at one point, which made us all laugh. Amma says he’s a growing boy and is going to shoot up.
After dinner, we walked downtown and played pinball at the arcade and talked about art stuff, like how to do shading on living things, and what our favorite paint colors are (mine is alizarin crimson, his was a color I think is so ugly, yellow ocher).
I wish you’d been with us. I could feel you like a ghost all night. I wish I knew how you were doing.
Love,
Phoebe
Sunday after Thanksgiving
Dear Suze,
I am so sorry I haven’t had time to write! ! ! ! My mom and dad came on Wednesday and we’ve been doing family things, even my mom, who seems weirdly happy. She got a promotion at work, with a lot more money, and she always likes making more money. We ate like pigs and played a million games (I won Scrabble three times!) and hung out. Joel went somewhere with his mom, so I talked to him on the phone, but we didn’t get to go anywhere again.
I’m leaving the diary so you can read it and write in it, but PLEASE call me as soon as you can. Amma said you can use her phone and she’ll pay, no problem.
I MISS YOU SO MUCH! The good thing is, it’s only a month till Christmas vacation and I’ll see you then.
Love,
Phoebe
November 29, 19—
Dear Phoebe,
Joel told me he kissed you. I can’t believe you guys did that! Like I didn’t even exist. Like it didn’t matter that I was imprisoned in my room for the entire Thanksgiving vacation and no one even cares. You hung out with each other like I don’t even matter. I’m so so so so mad at you!!!!!
I’m not going to be in the play. My dad forced me to quit. I couldn’t stop crying when I told my teacher.
I’M SO MAD AT YOU!
Suze
[PAGE TORN OUT]
Dear Phoebe,
My dad imprisoned me for the whole week. It killed me that you and Joel hung out the whole time and painted and went to the beach and had fun and I was STUCK IN MY ROOM. I wanted to cut my hair but I was too scared, so I cut some ribbons in my skin, on my thigh, where my dad will never see them.
I hate my life. I hate my dad. I hate that I’m stuck here in this house for five more years until I’m 18. I wish I could run away like GO ASK ALICE, but I don’t know where I’d find some older guy to let me live with him.
I wanted to be in the play so bad, and now I can’t do it. I wanted to BE WITH YOU during Thanksgiving and now you’re back home and that makes my heart hurt SO BAD. I miss you. I wish you lived here.
[PAGE TORN OUT]
December 1, 19—
Dear Phoebe,
I am fine. Don’t worry. I’m glad you and Joel had fun. He told me he kissed you, which you might have said. I don’t know about this diary right now. I’ll try to call you, but I don’t know when.
Love,
Suze
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Eleven
Phoebe
After we drop Suze off at her house, Jasmine and I have rest time. Not that she likes it that much, but I’m attached to my naps. When I’m refreshed, we head down to the studio. I can tell she’s restless. Art is great for a couple of hours, but she and Maui are bouncing off the walls. Looking through the windows, I see that the rain has stopped. “Why don’t you go play outside?” I suggest, swishing a paintbrush in water.
“Finally!” She pulls on her hoodie and Maui jumps up, grabbing a stick he dragged inside earlier. Jasmine takes it. “Let’s play fetch,” she says and leans in. “That means I throw it, you bring it back, okay?”
I chuckle. “Don’t go too far.”