When We Collided

Like I would forget a request like that. I still don’t quite understand their connection. I know they eat breakfast together some mornings. And I know that, last week, as Officer Hayashi was leaving Tony’s, he pointed at me and said, You be good to that girl. Then he patted the handcuffs on his belt all menacingly.

“Hey, Vivi!” someone calls from closer to the water. I’ve lived in this town my whole life, and Vivi has more friends.

“Be right back,” she says, kissing my cheek. “Don’t move, okay? We’re talking more about my anthropomorphic birthday party. Isn’t that a great word, anthropomorphic? I’m not sure if I said it right, but who the hell gets to decide how people use language anyway? I could make up my own language if I wanted to; there’s no council that certifies these things, and . . .”

“Viv,” I say. “Someone called for you.”

“Oh, right!” She kisses me on the mouth this time, hands on either side of my chin, before running off.

I sit by myself without even looking around for someone else to talk to. I had weird motivations for coming here tonight. It wasn’t to have fun. I guess I wanted to represent my family. Like, look, we’re okay. Two of us are here. I even have a girlfriend. But all that feels stupid now. We’re not okay, and there’s no point in pretending. By the time I finish my beer, I’m ready to go home. I’ve made an appearance; I’ve said hi. I don’t have a happy face, but even my I’m-okay face is tired.

Vivi startles me out of my introspection, back by my side and pulling at my hand the way Leah does. “C’mon, c’mon. It’s time for skinny-dipping!”

It takes me a second. I’ve heard skinny-dipping happened at a bonfire a few years ago, when I was too young to attend. “What? No.”

“Yeah! Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun.” She taps my nose with the tip of her finger and glances intentionally downward. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Is she serious? Or teasing me to get a reaction? I can never tell. “Viv, there’s no way I’m getting naked in front of everyone I know.”

“Oh my God, Jonah.” She rolls her eyes, and I feel like the parent of a teenager on a sitcom. “It’s dark! And you’ll be in the water. No one will even see.”

“Yes, they will.” Most of the time, I feel drunk on Vivi. Light-headed and wanting more, more, more. But then there are moments where being with her feels like a cruel hangover. Or maybe it’s just that I am cast in the role of Buzzkill. “And I don’t want everyone here to see you naked either.”

“Okay. I’ll keep my underthings on, then. For you. Out of love.” Before I can tell her that’s not really what I meant, she’s off and running, already peeling off her shirt. I want to yell at her to stop, please, that this is weird. But the words feel like gunky oatmeal in my mouth, stuck to my tongue. I don’t want to be this deadweight, un-fun guy. It’s just that I’ve never seen Vivi wear a bra that isn’t lacy and totally see-through, and I don’t want other people . . . you know, seeing through it. I want to be the only one who sees the colorful flower tattoo on her side—the one that she hates.

There’s a group of at least ten people at the edge of the water, stripping down. Even more run down to the shoreline when they realize what’s happening. Seeing a big group of naked people is surreal. My instinct is to look away because staring seems wrong. The guys are stark naked, but most of the girls are keeping their underwear on. Vivi’s right; it’s hard to see in the darkness. As the group runs into the water, they’re a nude blur.

Of course, everyone on the shore is encouraging them. I’m relieved that Naomi left. Because there’s probably nothing weirder than your sister seeing your girlfriend almost naked. Resigned, I find my spot on one of the logs. They’re well into the waves, and I sigh.

“Hey.” A slim figure appears between me and the bonfire, and I look up to find Ellie smiling down at me.

“Hey.”

“So, my dad tells me you’re testing out some menu changes.” She sits next to me on the log, adjusting her skirt beneath her. “He’s really proud.”

“Thanks.” Proud—like a dad. I don’t really know how to feel about that. Which reminds me.

“Hey.” I drop my voice even though no one is really close. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

She nods.

“Do you know who owns the restaurant? Like half your dad, half my dad? And what now? Since my dad is—”

“Yeah, it’s fifty-fifty. Your dad’s half went to your mom.” She smiles the tiniest bit. “I overheard. When your brother gets in as much trouble as Diego used to, you get really good at eavesdropping.”

“So have you, um . . . heard your dad say anything? About how the restaurant is doing?”

She considers this, really mulling it over. Her brows drop and her lips pinch together. “No. But he’s seemed stressed, and I’ve walked in on a few conversations where my mom and dad abruptly stopped talking. I figured it was about my brother’s new girlfriend or something. Why?”

Emery Lord's books