by Alexa Woods
tree. Their backs weren’t to each other, but just about.
“I, uh, I’m sorry,” June eventually said, so quietly that her voice was like
a secondary breeze. “I’m sorry that Summer has, well, that she doesn’t trust
you and that she doesn’t like you. It’s pretty obvious.”
“Hey. I didn’t have to come.”
“Why did you come? If that’s not too rude? I’m not saying I don’t want
you here. To be clear.”
Arabella nodded before she realized that June couldn’t see her. “I know
that. You would never say that and probably never think it. Even back in
high school you were so nice to everyone.” Maybe she shouldn’t be
bringing up the past, but when it sat so heavily on her, what else could she
do? It was the only thing they had in common, the one thing that would
forever stand in both of their minds, wherever they went, no matter how far
forward they ended up going.
Arabella wanted to apologize again. Properly. She realized it would be
better if she had written down a list of all the things she could think of to
apologize for. A blanket apology seemed trite and insincere.
“Can I ask you something?” June said. She shifted against the tree and
the bark rasped against her clothing. The sound was soft in the night.
“Okay. Sure.”
“You’ll answer honestly?”
“Yes.”
June sighed. “That stuff about your parents. It’s really true? You didn’t
just give us a fake address and go camp out at a friend’s house for us to pick
you up at?”
Pride was a hard thing to swallow, but Arabella had enough practice at it
over the years that she didn’t have much difficulty in getting down the sour
taste of her own ego now, with all its bruises and mars and scuffs. “I think
that if I was going to lie about something, I’d probably lie about something
much better than that. I’d want to say it didn’t happen and that we were all
doing fine. And then I’d go camp out at someone’s much nicer, more
expensive house and say it was mine.”
June gave an unexpected laugh. “Yeah. True, you probably would. Well,
now that I know that you weren’t lying about any of that, and that’s a rough
one, I’m really sorry about what happened. Can I ask you what I really
wanted to ask you?”
Closing her eyes, Arabella leaned harder into the tree, pressing her
tailbone in until it ached. Foreboding soured her stomach. She knew she
owed it to June to be honest, no matter how bad the coming question might
be. “Sure. Okay. Go ahead.”
“Why did you not say anything that afternoon? You bullied me about
everything under the sun, but the one thing you could have nailed me for,
you never did. Why was that? I’ve never understood.”
Arabella thought back to that day. She knew exactly which one June
meant. It was cold. The wind was biting. Arabella remembered that because
she wished that she’d worn her mitts, but she’d forgotten them at home. She
was very forgetful that day. She’d left her favorite sweater on the bleachers
during cheer practice and then she’d gone to get changed after and had
gabbed with all those girls she called her friends, putting in the time. It had
always been about putting in the time. She’d been a quarter of the way to
her car in the student parking lot when she remembered her sweater. She’d
thrown her jacket on over her flowy blouse. She would have just left it, but
it was her favorite. She’d turned around and walked back, never expecting
to find what she’d found.
When she realized that June was waiting for an answer, and probably had
been for quite some time, Arabella forced herself to take a breath. All she
needed to do was fill up her lungs and it would be easy to say what she
wanted to say, wouldn’t it? No, it probably would never be easy. She was so
nervous that her hands were actually damp, and she had to rub them on her
cotton pajama shorts. She glanced down, surprised to find that she was
wearing the ones with the little dogs on them. Pink with purple and darker
pink puppies. She could have sworn they were blue striped.
“You don’t have to answer that,” June said, attempting to be nice,
because that’s who she was. She never wanted to cause anyone any pain.
She hadn’t gone through her high school years like a full team of guys hell
bent on demolishing everyone and everything in their wake like Arabella
had.
“No. I-I’ll answer you. Sorry. I was just thinking about it.” Arabella
knew her voice was too small. She swallowed hard against the burn at the
back of her throat. “I could never have made fun of you for that because it
would have been extremely hypocritical.”
“Hypocritical?”
“Maybe that’s not the right word. Maybe ironic would be better.”
“Ironic?”
June still didn’t get it. Arabella cursed herself for her inability to find the
right words. “You were so open about who you were. I never got that
luxury. I couldn’t. If I had told anyone about me, I would have lost
everything. That’s all I had. I don’t know why being popular and liked and
being so…God, I don’t know. I don’t know why any of it was important,
but back then, it was. It was my everything.”
There was a scraping sound, then the click of the flashlight, and suddenly
June was right there, right beside Arabella, shining the light in her face
again. Arabella threw her hands over her eyes to try and shield them from
the bright retina burning beam.
“Sorry! Shit.” June swiveled the flashlight down. “I just had to see your
face right now. Are you shitting me? Because I swear, if you’re shitting me,
you’re going to be sorry. You think I can’t be mean? I can be mean. I can
spend all night trapping spiders and leaches and put them in your bed. Or
something. I would think of something!”
“It’s true!” Arabella yelped. “It’s not a secret now, but back then I would
have done anything to keep anyone from finding out. I was such an evil
little bratty bitch back then, but even I knew it was wrong to try to cover up
my own shit by shitting all over your shit.”
June gaped at her. Arabella’s eyes had recovered enough to see the glint
of June’s teeth flashing because her mouth was wide freaking open. “So,
you’re saying that you’re a lesbian. If I’m wrong, please don’t make fun of
me. I think that’s what you’re saying. Oh, my God, is that really what
you’re saying?”
“Yes! Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
“Oh, my God!” June turned the flashlight up to the sky, illuminating the
leaves of the tree and the branches overhead, and a set of glowing, beady
eyes higher up, staring back at them.
“What is that?” June screeched.
“I don’t know!” Arabella leaped up and ran as fast as she could away
from the tree. If something else was up there, she didn’t want to stick
around to find out the hard way. If it landed on her, that would be a hundred
times worse than the scare she’d had from the leach and from June leaping
&n
bsp; out of the tree combined.
June came huffing and chugging away from the tree, her bare feet
flashing in the wildly swaying flashlight beam. “Shit,” she squealed. “I
have no idea what that was, but I was up in the tree with it without even
knowing.”
“Oh, my God, it could have been a bear!”
“Up a tree? Not hardly. I think it was more likely that it was an
opossum.”
Arabella’s heart slowed down a few beats and she was even able to smile
at her foolish assumptions about the bear. She was thoroughly and truly a
city girl. She’d never seen an opossum in person in her life. They were
really cute on videos, though. She wasn’t afraid of them, even though they
hissed and stuff and that often scared people.
“You’re probably right.”
“Should we go back inside just in case? What if it wasn’t? It’s pitch
black.”
“Maybe we should.”
Seeing as they’d just scared each other again, they both rushed up the
cabin steps, the flashlight illuminating the way so there wasn’t any missteps
or accidents. June threw open the door and Arabella followed. They went to
their rooms silently, without saying anything further, even though Arabella
knew that June probably had a thousand more questions.
Would she tell Summer? It wouldn’t matter if she did. Like Arabella had
said, it wasn’t a secret anymore. She’d come out to her parents when she
was nineteen because she just couldn’t stand to be fake anymore. Her dad
was absolutely fine with it, her sister was okay too. Her mom, oddly
enough, took the news hard and it was a good year before their relationship
was back to being even half of what it was before, and they’d never been
that close. In fact, they weren’t close until the whole scandal involving her
dad. Arabella’s mom had to admit that she couldn’t live that lifestyle
anymore – the lifestyle of tennis and country clubs and stuck-up friends and
charity functions, throwing parties for this or that.
If there was one good thing that had come from the whole situation it was
that they were closer as a family than they’d ever been before. When they
lost everything, they still had each other. That might be tacky as glue, but it
was true for them. They’d held together. So far.
Arabella slid underneath the sheet. The room was stifling, even with the
window cracked. Outside, mosquitos buzzed at the screen. She could hear a
chirping in the night, far beyond the cabin, and wondered if it was a bug or
some sort of bird or even an animal.
What had been up there in the tree?
If it was a bear, would it try and get into the cabin?
Arabella shuddered. She’d never be able to sleep if she thought about a
bear breaking down the door and mauling them in the darkness before they
could get out and get to safety. Better to think it was an opossum and that it
had been minding its own business until they came along. The eyes had
been pretty small. Bears didn’t have small eyes, did they? Likely not.
Instead of driving herself crazy thinking about the wildlife, Arabella
thought instead about the day she and June had been talking about.
Chapter 8
High School
Arabella
Annoyed at forgetting her favorite sweater, Arabella walked quickly
through the school and out the back doors at the end of the long, fluorescent
lit hall. The school was always warm. It was like it had one temperature and
that was hot. In the summer, it was unbearable, even before school let out.
No matter how many windows were opened and how much airing out was
attempted, the whole place stank like sweaty teenagers and raging
hormones.
It hadn’t snowed yet, but the air was dry and electric, and so cold and
crisp that the snow was probably not long in coming. Pretty much the only
thing Arabella actually liked about high school was the cheer team, but she
hated doing it in the frigid weather. Just standing on the sidelines screaming
her lungs out and waving her pom poms wasn’t enough to keep the blood
flowing. By the time they did their routines to actually warm the heck up,
they were basically frigid icicles. There wasn’t anything like trying to split
and spread freezing muscles into contorted positions. As much as the other
girls hated practice or whined about nailing the choreography and having to
practice it over and over, Arabella loved it.
She kept walking, past the end of the school, out towards the track field
where they had cheer practice. The bleachers were a lot smaller than the
ones surrounding the football field in the distance. The school wasn’t
known for its track and field prowess, but of course, like most high schools,
football was a big deal. Arabella remembered leaving her sweater on the
bleachers. She’d only worn it out there because the wind was so crisp and
biting. She’d shed it when she was warmed up.
If she didn’t have cheer, she’d probably go insane. People said that all the
time, but she thought it was the one thing keeping her tethered. The one
thing she didn’t hate about the whole high school experience. This was her
last year, and every single day, she got out of bed, spent hours on her hair
and makeup and choosing her clothes, pasted a smile on her face, and faked
her way through the remaining hours.
If anyone knew how much she hated all of it, they’d probably be
shocked.
That wasn’t why she was mean. She couldn’t explain it, even to herself.
She had enough attention at home. It wasn’t that. She’d always been
effortlessly pretty and had a body that most people could only achieve
through rigorous exercise, a lot of praying, and maybe even a few plastic
surgery touch-ups here and there. Her family was well off. They’d given her
a brand-new car for her sixteenth birthday. She went on expensive vacations
with her family. She had the best clothes, got regular manis and pedis with
her mom, and always had the trendy stuff that everyone wanted. She was
smart enough. She got decent grades. Mostly B’s, which her parents were
fine with. She was captain of the cheer team, was dating a handsome
football player, and was probably going to be voted homecoming queen.
On the outside, she was like every other popular girl. Put together by a
very tenuous amount of glue that could fail at any time, exposing the gaping
cracks and the mess of churning, wretched emotions underneath.
Not only did Arabella not know why she was mean, she didn’t know why
she did half the things she did. She didn’t have any explanation for it. She
just picked an easy target and didn’t let up. It was the expected thing to do
and to be. If you were popular, you were generally also mean. That’s how
most books and movies made it seem. She was just following suit. She was
at the top of the food chain, and to get there, you had to crush your way up
without mercy.
The wind whipped past Arabella and she walked faster. Her hands were
frozen since she’d also forgotten her mitts. She stuffed them into her
pockets and felt her annoyance rise at ha
ving to walk all the way back out
here.
Closer to the bleachers, she heard a soft hum, then ragged breaths and the
wet sound of flesh on flesh that signaled someone was making out under the
stands where they couldn’t be seen. It was a popular place to go and suck
face, especially for kids who couldn’t do that at home or didn’t want to do
that at home. It beat the cramped backseat of a car, at least so people said.
Arabella had never tried it. She was actually grossed out at the way most
people in the school were so open with their displays of affection. No, not
affection. They were teenagers. There wasn’t much affection in the
desperate groping, the hot for each other handling, or the possessive grasp
the guys placed on their girlfriends to show they were their property. The
whole thing grossed Arabella out. There wasn’t anything special in it.
Maybe she was doing it wrong, because she just didn’t get it. Disgust
soured her stomach when she thought about having to go all the way with
Joe. He’d been pushing her for it for months now. She was barely able to
put him off. Soon, he wasn’t going to be satisfied with sucking her face or
groping her breasts or the things she did to him with her hands. She’d used
the whole bad time of the month excuse far too many times and it was
starting to be not so believable.
Arabella tried to pretend she didn’t hear the soft, feminine moans coming
from the spot to her left. At least she thought it was coming from the spot to
her left, but the wind must have played tricks, because she turned right to
avoid getting any eyeful of things that were private, things she didn’t want
to see anyway, and all of a sudden, there they were. The bleachers gave way
at the tall point to reveal two shapes. Those soft moans weren’t coming
from one girl, Arabella realized, but from two.
Sarah Walker, classic nerd, straight A student. That was a big surprise in
itself, but the bigger surprise? The girl tangled up with her, twisted together
so vibrantly and recklessly that they weren’t even wearing jackets or
sweaters anymore, but were stripped down to their tank tops, was June
Erickson. She had her denim clad leg thrust between Sarah’s.
Shock rippled through Arabella, and she tried to walk quietly away so
that they didn’t see her. The stupid twig she randomly stepped on from the
