“Not happening,” Val said. “No way. No how.”
“Oh, come on, Val, let’s do it.” Alice stood up. “It’ll be invigorating.”
They all looked at me. I had to think fast. Did I want to be naked in front of these people? I had skinny-dipped before, with Shay in her pool, and with Seth in his pool, but never in the ocean with strangers.
“I’ll go in my underwear.”
Alice already had her clothes off and was running toward the water in her bra and underwear. Gordie threw off his LIFE IS GOOD T-shirt and khaki shorts and ran after her in his boxers.
“Come on, Val.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her up.
“Javi will kill me, Sadie. He’s really possessive. He’ll lose it.”
“Javi will never know.”
She stood alone as I followed Jean, already stripped down to his black boxer-briefs, toward the sea. I looked back and she was behind me, flinging off her blue-flowered sleeveless blouse.
It felt like the start of a whirlwind five-person romance, like we were running into something deep and exciting, something magnetic and abnormally comfortable.
“Let’s do it as a round,” Alice shouted when we were all in, neck-deep, fighting the pull of the cold, exhilarating Atlantic. “Roll, roll, roll your boat…”
“Roll, roll, roll your boat…”
In the morning, Greg O. responded to We built this for you. Hope you like it with Yeah! That’s pretty good.
It was pretty good.
Shay, on the other hand, hadn’t responded at all. When I texted her How’s it going? Did you like my picture? she wrote back immediately. Yes. So cute. Sorry! Camper duty. Xoxo Her response seemed fake, like she wasn’t interested in my picture or my story.
EIGHT
MOM DROVE UP in the middle of my shift. The wind had picked up and sheets of rain pelted the farm stand roof. Daniela and I had spent the morning dragging things inside, and my entire body ached. I was wet and cold and hungry for tortilla soup and hot chocolate.
“Mom, are you the best mom ever? Did you bring me soup?” I called out as she hobbled through the muddy parking lot in her gold high-heeled sandals.
“No. I don’t have any soup. Sorry.” She shook her umbrella. “Sweetie, I got a call from a Barbara somebody this morning. She’s a victim advocate. She wants to talk to you about the case.”
“Like what about the case? I already told the officer everything.”
“She didn’t say.” Mom picked up a melon and sniffed it. “But I suspect it’s pretty standard for her to check in. She suggested it might be a good idea to type up the story as soon as possible, just so it’s clear in your mind.”
It wasn’t clear in my mind. It was a wet, stuck-together nest of smells and sounds. I didn’t want to deal with any of it, not the incident, not the thoughts of him getting out of jail and going after baby Ella again.
Or coming after me.
“Fine. I’ll start writing it tonight,” I said, knowing full well that would not be happening.
A few minutes after Mom left with a canvas bag of strawberries and peaches, Farmer Brian and Daniela arrived with fresh eggs.
“Did you hear about Mr. Upton, Sadie?” Daniela said.
I stopped and turned. “No?”
“He passed away this morning. Poor old guy,” Farmer Brian said.
“Oh.” That was all I could say. I stood there wondering if Mr. Upton had had a chance to eat any of the peaches before he died. And then I started to cry. Farmer Brian and Daniela had no idea why I was so upset, but for ten minutes straight I was inconsolable.
I would have texted Shay, but it dawned on me that Shay had no idea who Mr. Upton was. I hadn’t told her anything about him or his suitcase.
So I texted the homegrown heroes.
I’m sad. The suitcase guy died this morning. Can we meet at Gordie’s basement tonight?
They all said yes.
“It’s not like he was my grandfather or anything,” I said when we were sitting in a circle on Gordie’s basement floor, eating pizza and talking about Mr. Upton. “I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. He was just a customer who happened to bequeath me his weird suitcase.”
“We can’t help where our feelings take us,” Val said.
“Wow, Val. That’s profound,” Alice said sarcastically.
We helped Val come up with comeback texts after Javi called her a bitch for leaving him alone again.
“How about It’s over?” Alice suggested. “I’d say calling you a bitch is a deal breaker.”
Val laughed nervously. “You’re not wrong. He and Mike are probably blasting me on the slam page right now.”
We added some comments to Greg O.’s blog and logged on to Val and Jean’s school’s slam page. It was the longest, ugliest slam page I had ever seen. It was even more disturbing to read the comments in large font on Gordie’s movie screen.
Has anyone noticed how ugly Carly looks with bangs?
Why would Miles date that fat pig?
She’s not as fat as you, Kels. We know you’re writing this.
Nikki D. was wearing long sleeves at the beach. WTF?
She’s a cutter. Like Swiss cheese.
Freak.
“Wow. I thought my school sucked,” Alice said.
I didn’t even want to see my school’s slam page. It was bad enough reading and rereading the comments about me and the incident. I could only imagine what else the gadflies and the ruffians would say about me behind my back. Sadie’s always going to be a senior wannabe. Sadie wasn’t good enough for Seth. Sadie’s scar is disgusting.
Gordie logged on as KINKY 3. He was a computer genius at school, the guy all the other guys called upon to encrypt their porn. He wrote:
I actually like Carly’s bangs.
Then he wrote:
Nikki D. has always been really nice to me.
PIERRE wrote:
Wow. If she’s fat, what does that make me?
“Good one,” Alice said.
When we logged on to Alice’s school’s slam page, we found threads and threads about Izzy and the heroin, and horrible things about how she’s sleeping with guys for drugs.
Alice got quiet.
“What should we say, Alice?” Gordie said. “I’ll say anything you want.”
Alice stared at the velvet curtain wall. “Don’t say anything. The trolls are right.”
I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t begin to imagine what Alice was going through.
We tried to agree on a movie. But that never happened. So we went back to troll-slamming.
It was addicting.