Underwater

Later, I would kiss him underneath a street lamp.

His tongue would taste like beer and his hair would smell like the handmade waffle cones from the ice-cream shop where he worked.

It would all be so perfect.

And then it would be gone.

Standing at my front door with Evan was nothing like that. It was just a night. There were no streetlamps or friends. There were no promises of anything.

He had pushed back on his heels. “Well, thanks for watching my video.”

“Thanks for showing me. It was cool.”

I wanted him to stay. Would he think I was crazy if I asked him to do that? Just say it, I thought. My mom and Ben would be at the birthday party for a while still. It would be easy to hang out. But I didn’t say it. I didn’t say a word.

Even though that music was playing, there was a silence between us.

“Do you think you’ll be back at school soon?” he asked.

I knew I had to tell him. “I don’t really go to school. I do school here. On the computer.”

“Whoa. That’s so cool.”

He didn’t get it. He looked at me like I was something special. Like I didn’t need school because I was better than that.

The front gate pounded shut, the clash of metal echoing through the courtyard. It made me jump and retreat farther inside. Evan looked down below and held his hand up to wave.

“It’s my mom,” he told me.

She came up the stairs. She wore a flowy skirt and a blouse that floated out behind her. She was tan. She was pretty. She was tall, but not as tall as Evan. Like him, she looked like she’d just stepped off the sand. But when she got closer, I saw her under the brightness of the porch light. I saw something else. I saw dark circles under her brown eyes and the exhausted slope of her shoulders.

Evan leaned in to hug her, then introduced us when they broke apart.

“Morgan, Janice. Janice, Morgan.”

Evan’s mom stifled a yawn, then held her hand out to me. When I took it in mine, I could feel the bones through her skin.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t come by to introduce myself,” she said. “Things have been…” She paused, searching for the right word, finally settling on “busy.”

I told her I understood even though I didn’t. I had no idea what it was like to be busy anymore. My life before was busy all the time. Every second I lived had something in it. But not now.

“I need a shower,” she announced. “I’m glad I finally met the neighbors. Or, well, one of the neighbors.”

She ruffled Evan’s hair the same way I do to Ben, only she had to stretch up to reach him. He looked embarrassed. And then she headed inside, the screen door slapping shut behind her.

“Well, that’s my mom.”

“What does she do?”

“Everything.” Evan sounded tired just thinking about it. “My aunt’s having a rough time, so my mom took over running her restaurant while she works through some things. She knows what to do because their parents owned a diner when they were growing up. But the hours aren’t easy. My mom’s always there instead of here.”

“You must be lonely.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s okay. I understand why she has to do it. And it’s a job. We couldn’t exactly move here unless she had one.”

I probably could’ve asked a whole bunch of questions that would’ve convinced Evan to tell me his whole life story, but I didn’t want to sound like Brenda. Sometimes it’s nice to know someone without having to talk all the time.





chapter nine

Brenda comes at one p.m. just like she said she would. She always does exactly what she promises. She’s wearing leopard-print workout pants and a sweatshirt. She has on running shoes like she is going to compete in a 5K for rock stars instead of just trying to convince me to walk to the mailbox.

“Nice jeans. Does this mean you’re ready?” She says this like she’s known I’d go all along.

Of course, I can feel all the things I can’t control happening to my body. My erratic heartbeat. My armpit sweat. My stomach cramps. I know Brenda can tell because she puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, anchoring me.

“It’s okay. We can start right here,” she says.

I look at her standing outside my door like it’s no big deal. It seems so simple. Why can’t I go? Why can’t I just cross the threshold and step outside? I think hard. I can’t do it. I turn my back to her to head inside. She grabs my shoulder and urges me back around. There’s something about the way she regards me right then. It’s in the shift of her hip and the squint in her eyes.

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