by Nancy Thayer
Real life resumed December 26. Friends called, came to her house, took her to their house for marathon games of Monopoly or poker. Or they all went to the Dreamland to see a new movie. If a winter blizzard roared over the island—and everyone wanted one to come—they piled on their warmest coats and boots and went out to the beach to scream with the howling wind.
* * *
—
“Sebastian is disgusting!” Isabelle snarled as she and Keely walked home from school. It was spring of their sophomore year, when they needed coats in the early morning but not in the afternoon.
“Why, because he’s dating Sherry?” Keely suspected what Isabelle would say, but she knew Izzy needed to vent.
Also, she needed to know that it was true. If it was really happening.
“Because he’s having sex with Sherry!”
Her breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself to act nonchalant. “Give the guy a break. He’s seventeen.”
“I don’t care. I don’t like her. I hate it when he brings her to eat dinner with us! I can’t believe my parents allow it. They’ve got to know what’s going on!”
Keely wanted to weep. Ever since last summer when Sebastian gave her the book, she’d expected something else to happen between them. Something romantic. And he had kissed her. Twice! Once on the forehead and once—it made her shiver to remember—on the mouth.
“He’s just a normal guy,” Keely said dismissively. “What can you expect?”
“At the least, I’d expect him to date someone smart.”
Keely laughed. “Yes, because that’s what guys like in a girl. Come on, Isabelle, you’ve seen Sherry in the girls’ locker room. She’s got enormous breasts!”
“Oh, you’re disgusting, too!” Isabelle fumed. “I’m not going to get all hung up on some guy. I’m going to concentrate on my writing.”
“Me, too.” Keely noticed the Andersons’ yard, strewn with daffodils. She nudged Isabelle. “Pretty.”
Isabelle couldn’t be bothered about someone’s yard. “It’s the way Sherry twinkles her fingers at me in the hall. As if she thinks I like her. SO not true!”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Keely said, rolling her eyes at herself for using an expression her parents used, although in this case it was kind of pertinent. “School will be out soon. You and your family and your precious Sebastian”—she blushed just speaking his name—“will be traveling off in France somewhere.”
“Italy this year.”
“Whatever. Out of the wicked Sherry’s clutches.”
“I know. It’s the first time I’ve actually wanted to go on the stupid trip.”
Maybe, Keely thought, just maybe, Sebastian would bring her a present from Italy.
More likely, he’d bring Sherry one.
* * *
—
Ciao, cara! Come va?
Keely stood in the front hall of her home, grateful for the air-conditioning as she read the postcard in her hand. Her parents weren’t home yet, so she sank to the floor right there and then, allowing all her emotions to crowd in together. Happiness because Isabelle sent the card. Jealousy, as always, because Isabelle was piling up such exotic experiences for her novels while Keely worked at Clean Sweep and babysat in her free time.
Longing for Sebastian.
Disgust because she was so lame, allowing herself to daydream about him.
Also, for the first time, maybe a little spark of smugness. Keely was writing. Really writing. Any free time she had, Keely spent working on short stories and reading how-to books by famous writers. She couldn’t wait to share her fiction with Isabelle.
* * *
—
“What do you think?” Mrs. Maxwell asked Keely.
“Delicious!” Keely lied. The pasta Bolognese on her plate reeked of garlic, and the sausage Mrs. Maxwell had used had an unfamiliar, gristly texture.
Plus, Sebastian wasn’t here for their first family dinner back home on the island. He’d gone to “visit” Sherry. This year, the childhood traditions changed, because the children had changed. Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell insisted Isabelle stay home. Keely was allowed to join them.
“In Italy,” Isabelle said, “I was allowed to drink wine.” She shot an evil eye at her father.
“We’re not in Italy anymore, darling,” Mr. Maxwell reminded her.
After dinner, the girls secluded themselves in Isabelle’s room. They sat on the floor between the twin beds so no one could overhear them. It was too hot to be outside, so luxurious to be in the cool air.
“So tell me everything,” Isabelle urged.
“Wait, you tell me about Italy.”
“I don’t care about Italy! What did you do? What did anyone on the island do?”
Keely grinned. “Bliss got pregnant! She had to marry Gavin!”
“Is she going to finish senior year?”
“I doubt it. Her baby’s due in December.”
“Poor Bliss. Where are they living?”
“With Gavin’s parents.”
“I would die.”
“I’m not having sex until I’m in college,” Keely announced. “I’ve decided.”
“But what if you, like, fall in love before then?”
“That’s so not going to happen.”
“Good. Because I’m going to wait, too. I want to get really good grades. I think I might join the girls’ basketball team, too.” Isabelle made a funny face. “I’m tall, plus I’ll exhaust all my adolescent hormones that way.”
“I’m not going to do a sport. Nothing interests me. Besides, I want to keep writing. I have so many short stories I want you to read!”
“You got to write all summer,” Isabelle said mournfully. “I’m so jealous.”
Keely scoffed. “Yeah, right. While you were in Italy, you were jealous.”
“It’s true!” Isabelle stood up and stretched. “I’m so antsy these days! Are you?”
“I don’t have time to be,” Keely answered. “I’m either working or writing.”
“You don’t have to be so pleased with yourself. Come on, let’s go to your house so you can show me some of your fabulous writing.”
* * *
—
Keely was babysitting for the Cronins’ kids when someone knocked on the front door. She hesitated. Both children, Katrina and Kit, were already tucked away, asleep. But she was wary about opening the door even though it was late August and still light. She pulled back a pinch of curtain and peeked out.
Sebastian!
All at once she was so nervous she wasn’t sure she could force herself to move. But she opened the door.
“Hey, Sebastian.” She was good, so calm, so blasé.
“Hey yourself, Keely. Can I come in?”
“No. Sorry. The Cronins don’t want me having friends in the house. How did you know I was here?”
“It was really hard. I called your parents to ask where you were.”
Sebastian had called her parents? What would they think? Keely didn’t even know what she thought!
“I just wanted to see you before I take off for Amherst.”
Keely couldn’t get her breath. “Um…”
“I didn’t bring you anything from Italy.”
Her gift for sarcasm surfaced just in time. “Yeah, because Sherry would love it if you gave me a present.”
“I’m not seeing Sherry anymore.”
“Because you’re going off to college?”
“Yeah. She’s going to Tufts, not so far away. But we both want to take a break.”
“Um…okay.” What did this mean? Keely’s hopes spiraled upward.
“Look. I’d like to talk with you. Just the two of us. I really like you, Keely.”
Her heart stopped beating. Her brea
th caught in her throat. Her eyes met his and for a moment they were the only people in the world.
A car passed by. The spell broke.
“I’d like to talk to you, too,” Keely admitted, her voice faint.
“I have to leave tomorrow. But I’ll come back to the island a lot. Can I text you?”
“Um, I’ve got an old phone…” She almost burst into tears.
“I’ll email you then, okay?”
Had she entered an alternate universe? Her heart galloped like a racehorse. “Sure.”
“I’ll get your address from Izzy.”
“No, don’t. She’d kill me. I’ll tell you. It’s easy. Keely90 at gmail.”
“So I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”
“What about Christmas break?” The question popped out before she could stop herself.
“We’re going to New York again. You know the drill.”
“Right. Yeah, okay.”
“Okay.” Sebastian smiled down at her.
“You’ve gotten even taller,” Keely said.
“Older and wiser, too,” Sebastian quipped.
Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed her gently, quickly, on her lips.
“See ya,” he said, and ran down the Cronins’ walk and onto the street and around the corner.
Keely stood in the doorway, paralyzed with happiness and wonder until Sebastian was out of sight.
* * *
—
“I’m going to lose my virginity this year,” Isabelle announced.
“Why? Because we’re juniors?” Keely and Isabelle walked side by side, laden with heavy new textbooks after their first full day of school. It was as hot and humid as an August day. Who could take school seriously?
“Yeah, maybe. I just want to get it over with. With some guy I like, but don’t love.”
“You are so weird.”
“No, Keely. I’m logical. Thinking ahead. I want to make top grades. I want to get into a good college. I don’t want to be ambushed by ‘love’ and get obsessive over some guy.”
“I know. Look at Bliss. I saw her at Island Variety yesterday. She’s so matronly. She was desperate to know about school. We invited her to some beach parties this summer. She didn’t come.”
“Would you?”
“We were all in bikinis and she looks like a beach ball.”
Isabelle laughed, shoving Keely’s arm. “You’re terrible.”
“But I’m right.”
“I know. That’s what I mean. I really don’t want to lose my mind—my life!—over some guy.”
“Like that’s something you can control.” Keely bit her lip, thinking of Sebastian. She secretly congratulated herself on keeping her feelings for him private, because she didn’t get why he had stopped by at the Cronins’. It had to be more than friendship. Keely wanted to talk it over with someone, but Isabelle was her best friend, and Isabelle would flip if she knew Keely liked Sebastian.
They went to Isabelle’s house today because the badminton set was still up in the backyard. They played a few games—it was therapeutic to run around on the soft grass slamming the birdie with the racket. They ate apples while they worked on their math homework in the kitchen. When Mrs. Maxwell came in to start cooking dinner, Keely gathered up her things and went home.
Her parents were both working late, so Keely chopped vegetables for a quick stir-fry when they got home. She went to her room, woke up her computer, and checked her emails.
Sebastian.
She had an email from Sebastian. She screamed—no one was around to hear her.
She opened the email.
Hey, Keely,
So sometimes it’s easier to say things this way. I’ve been wanting to tell you some stuff, but I feel like you belong to Isabelle and I know your first allegiance is to her, so I haven’t told you everything. Because, you know, she would kill me. Or you. Or both of us. But now, off the island, in my dorm, I guess I feel free to say some stuff. I just don’t want Isabelle to know. I hope you understand.
So…it’s pretty obvious how I feel about you, right? I mean giving you the book, and then seeing you this summer. I grabbed at the chance to talk to you when you were babysitting because none of my family would be hanging around eavesdropping. But that wasn’t the best time or place, was it?
I wish I could spend more time with you. You and me, alone. I think you get me in ways no one else does. Because of your writing and my art, I mean. My pretensions to art. But more than that.
I think you’re beautiful.
I’ve written and deleted that line about ten times. I’m kind of hanging off a roof here, emotionally speaking, and I don’t know if you’ll grab my wrists and pull me up or step on my fingers. (You can tell I’ve been watching too many thrillers.)
So, can you do this? Email me and well, let’s have a conversation. And please don’t tell anyone about this, especially Isabelle.
XO Sebastian
Keely didn’t scream. She didn’t burst into tears. This moment was too profound for that. She sat there, reading the email over and over, stunned with joy.
She hit “Reply.” She wrote:
I think you’re beautiful, too.
She deleted that. Act like an adult, she told herself. Act like Sebastian’s email isn’t as miraculous as the creation of the universe.
She wrote sentence after sentence, deleting them all. Her parents came home. She shut down the computer and went out to help make dinner. She moved as if she were an imaginary Keely, a dream Keely—a beautiful Keely.
Later, she emailed Sebastian.
Wow, Sebastian. Thanks for the compliment. I’d love to have a conversation with you. I’m definitely ready to grab your wrists and pull you up onto the roof.
I think you’re beautiful, too.
XO Keely
She pressed “Send.”
Keely waited until midnight for a reply from Sebastian, but nothing came. Nothing the next day, either. Paranoia crept over her. Had Sebastian been fooling around, playing with her, and now making fun of her? She couldn’t concentrate on her homework. She couldn’t even eat.
Two days later, his email came.
Sorry not to answer sooner. College is tougher than high school. I don’t have time to do much but study.
But thanks for your compliment. Glad you want to have a conversation. Afraid it will be short now that I’ve been loaded down with course work.
Let me know how you are.
XO Sebastian
What? Keely thought. The emotional temperature of his two emails was totally different. Was it only college courses that made him shortchange his email? She burned to talk with Isabelle about this, but of course she never would. She never could.
She didn’t send a reply to Sebastian. She needed to figure this puzzle out. Days passed and her grades were sinking. She wrenched her mind out of its obsessive daze and forced herself to concentrate on her homework.
Isabelle was busy with homework and girls’ basketball. She and Keely talked and emailed, but Keely noticed a distance growing between them. Of course they didn’t have as much time because of school, but Isabelle was absentminded, even cold toward Keely.
Keely decided the entire Maxwell family was insane.
She wept into her pillow every night, when not even her parents could hear her.
* * *
—
The first Friday night in October, a gale force wind and a full moon slammed the island, exploding into the air with crazy ions.
Isabelle phoned. “Keely, come to Surfside with me. I’ve got to be there!”
“Pick me up now,” Keely said.
On the way to the beach, Keely and Isabelle talked about school stuff. Keely’s ruffled emotional fur smoothed out. Isabelle was still her best frie
nd, just so busy.
At the beach, waves reared up and plunged down, whipping their tips into frenzies. The sea pounded, the wind wailed. The moonlight transformed the girls and the entire world into silver. As they had done so many times before, Isabelle and Keely danced on the sand, screaming and laughing and running along the jagged shoreline until they were breathless. They fell down at the edge of the waves.
Isabelle burst into tears. She reached out toward the white froth, as if to pull it up over her, and sobbed.
Keely knelt next to her. “Isabelle! What’s wrong?”
“I hate myself! I hate my life! I want to die!”
“What? How can you say that? You have everything! You’re beautiful and smart and popular—”
“I’m in love with someone and he doesn’t even know I exist.”
Keely was stunned. “In love? Who’s the guy?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s too stupid. He’s way out of my league.”
“How old is he?” Keely asked. Her heart swelled with sympathy for Isabelle. She could understand. She was in love with Sebastian, who seemed to be playing a kind of game.