“I don’t want to lie to them.”
“You wouldn’t be lying,” she said. “My old camp counselor is in charge now, and she said we can work there if we want. We just have to go meet with her before camp starts in two weeks.”
“Becca, that’s amazing! Is there drama stuff there Isabel can do? Then we can all be together.” I was getting excited enough that the idea of asking to stay home seemed less scary than it had just a few minutes ago.
“I signed up for a drama camp in San Francisco,” Isabel said. “I’m not about to spend that much time in a pool with you losers. My hair will turn green.” She blew us a kiss, which took away some of the sting of her calling us losers, though I already knew she was kidding. Isabel said stuff like that all the time.
“We’ll just have to find a way to live without you,” Becca said. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before swim tryouts.”
I felt a wave of nausea. Swim tryouts. Becca and I had been practicing all year; keeping our schedule was one of the reasons I didn’t want to go on vacation. But I had no idea whether we’d be good enough. What if one of us made it and the other didn’t? I’d never been in that high-pressure a situation before, and just the thought of it made me anxious. The only way I’d feel better was if I spent the summer practicing, and for that, I had to be here.
And then a new fear kicked in. What would happen if they spent the summer without me? They’d been friends first; I’d met Becca through swimming, and Isabel through Becca. Though the three of us were close now, I’d always felt like it was temporary, like they could go back to being a twosome at any time. They’d done it before, after some stupid fights in middle school, and I remembered the ache of that loneliness. What if they had an amazing time with me gone, and didn’t want me back? My thoughts started to spiral. What if they saw the zit and decided they didn’t want to be seen with me at school? I was being ridiculous; I knew. It was just one zit.
“Don’t worry,” Becca said. “Your freestyle is amazing, and we’ll keep working on your butterfly. We’ll be great. We just have to make sure we aren’t separated this summer. You have to sell it.”
“I will,” I said. “I promise.”
When I woke up the next morning, the horrible monster zit had multiplied by five. I asked my mother to go to the store and get me some benzoyl peroxide, like I’d seen advertised on TV. I didn’t ask her about staying with Becca; instead, I stayed in the bathroom and practiced putting makeup on by myself. It was a disaster.
The day after that, there were ten. They were hard and red and they hurt. I kept looking at myself in the mirror, hoping I was imagining them. But they didn’t go away. I got back in bed and stayed there all day, trying to avoid envisioning showing up for my first day of high school looking like this.
With every day came more angry red bumps, throbbing away under my skin. The benzoyl peroxide didn’t do anything. Becca called, and I told her I had a weird summer cold so I could avoid seeing her. I knew Becca probably wouldn’t think the zits were a big deal; she’d be sympathetic and supportive, like she always was. But behind her support would be that pity, and I couldn’t bear the thought of it. And Isabel—Isabel wouldn’t want to hang out with a monster. Not if it would interfere with her social life. Becca would have to choose, and why would she choose me? She and Isabel had the history; all I had was swimming.
Maybe the monster face was just a summer thing. Or maybe Mom could help me find a doctor who could give me medicine to make the zits disappear. Or she could teach me enough about makeup that I could hide them myself. I just needed some time. I realized I wasn’t just avoiding asking Mom about staying with the Walkers; I’d decided I wasn’t going to ask at all.
Once I had so many red blotches on my face that my freckles had all but disappeared, I called Becca. “Mom said no,” I told her. “I tried as hard as I could.”
“That sucks,” she said, not bothering to hide her disappointment.
“I’m sure Isabel will be fine with it.”
“Don’t say that.” Becca knew I worried sometimes that Isabel just tolerated me. “She’ll miss you as much as I will. Have a great time, and make sure to find somewhere to practice. And I’ll make hair appointments for us when you get home.”
“Sounds great,” I said, though I couldn’t imagine cutting off all my hair with this face. I’d worry about that when the time came.