Was it truly possible?
Chapter Five
By the time Sunday rolled around, one thing was clear. I was in over my head and could maybe do well to ask for a little guidance. I didn’t have a ton of reliable options, but I knew of one who wouldn’t let me down.
“I need advice,” I said to my brother from the steps in front of the shed. Clay lay flat on his back underneath the old tractor. That thing hadn’t worked in two years. I had no idea what made him think he could get it going now.
He stuck his head out and showcased a streak of grease across his chin. “Good thing I’m brilliant. Lay it on me.”
“I need girl advice.” This was a big step for me, and I braced myself against his reaction.
He quirked an eyebrow.
“Can we skip the shocked older brother heart-to-heart?”
“If you want.”
“I do.”
“Got it. So…you’re into a girl. Not a total surprise, by the way.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that statement, but let’s press on.”
“What’s the question? I’m a pro.”
I sighed. This was uncharted territory between Clay and me, but I was keenly aware of the fact that he did really well when it came to women and dating and was likely the perfect person to come to. Plus, his heart was as big as his ego, so he’d definitely be willing.
“There’s a girl I like.”
“I gathered that.” He swung his legs around to face me from his spot in the dirt and swept the blond hair out of his eyes. “Does she know it?”
“I think it’s safe to say yes.”
“Does she like you back?”
“Again with the affirmative.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I met his gaze. “I have no moves.”
“Well, you do say things like ‘affirmative.’”
I tossed a towel at him.
“Just ribbin’ ya.” He took a moment with what I’d said and then, reaching a conclusion, gave his head a firm shake. “Impossible. You’re related to me. You have to have moves.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the arrogance. “While I see how that might be troubling for your legacy, it’s true.”
He hopped to his feet and moved toward me with purpose. “Nah. It’s not moves you’re missing. It’s experience. You’re new at this whole romance game.”
“Also true.”
He rolled his shoulders as if gearing up for battle. “Give me the details. Let me know what I’m working with.”
“I don’t know that I want to go into all—”
“Stop wussing out. Have you kissed yet?”
I covered my eyes because it was the only way I’d make it through this. “Yes,” I said quietly and scrubbed my face before refocusing. “But that was two nights ago, and I haven’t seen her since. And we didn’t talk about it. At all. And now I have no idea what the next step is, or if I should take it or—”
“So here’s what you’re going to do.”
“Maybe I should get some paper,” I said, and glanced around for options.
“No, you little scrapper, just listen to me.” He ruffled my hair encouragingly. “You can do this.”
“Says the expert who’s never home on a Saturday night. Ever.”
“There’s a reason for that.” He paused. “A girl, huh?”
“Yes, a girl.” I rolled my eyes. “Are you going to help or not?”
“No, I am. I definitely am.” That seemed to usher him back on track and he refocused. “So the next time you see this girl, the department store one, I’m guessing.” I cringed at his accuracy. “You’re going to work on little touches. Every chance you get.”
“I’m going to need you to be more specific.”
He took a seat next to me on the steps and gestured toward himself and out again. “Come up with little ways to initiate contact. Nothing works better than serial contact. When you walk past her, maybe give her shoulder a little squeeze or hang on an extra second or two when you hand her something. Little touches let her know you’re into her.”
A lightbulb flew on. “Oh, my God. She does that! That exact thing!”
“Well, then it seems she has a few moves of her own. You’re in luck.” He grinned.
“Who has moves?”
I whirled at the sound of my mother’s voice. Mayday.
“The girl this scrapper is crushing on.”
I didn’t even have a second to throttle him, and God, did I want to.
“Ohhh! This is exciting! Which girl does she have a crush on?” my mother asked eagerly and rubbed her hands together in anticipation. Say what?
Clay shrugged. “I’m guessing the department store one, though she’s yet to confirm or deny.”
“Margaret, you have feelings for Courtney?” my mother asked proudly.
You’d have thought I’d just announced I liked spinach.
“Wait,” I said, struggling to keep up. “Did we not just skip a step? A very big step. A monumental one.”
“What is everyone doing out here?” my father asked, rounding the shed in his work coveralls.
“Your daughter is finally coming out,” my mother told him gleefully.
Was this really happening? It was, wasn’t it?
“Well, that’s great!” my father said, thumping me on the back. “We wondered when it would be.”
Clay held up his hands. “I mean, I thought it was possible, but didn’t know one hundred percent.”
“Well, how could you?” my mom said. “You’re not her mother.”
“Or her father,” my dad said, looking pleased with himself.
“Yeah, but I’m her brother. I pick up on stuff, too. Like when she stared at that photo of Jennifer Lopez I had on my wall in high school for way too long.”
“Good point,” my mother said.
I stood. “Am I even here right now? Can you guys see me?”
My mother kissed my cheek. “Of course we can. I’m sorry, sweetheart. We’re just celebrating a little here. Oh! We should all go out for pizza.”
“No. No going out for pizza. And shouldn’t I get to be in charge of this conversation?” I said in exaggerated outrage. “Because it’s kind of important to my history as, you know, a person.”
“Of course you should,” my mother said and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Take it away.”
There was a long silence as I tried to figure out what the hell to say. This was so not what I had planned on.
“So…I like a girl,” I said quietly, doing my best not to toe the dirt. “And I realize now that this is not the surprise I thought it was going to be or whatever, but it’s the truth all the same.” Silence. I nodded once awkwardly. “So there’s that.” Sensing that I was done, my mother broke into applause, and to my shock and horror, my father and brother joined right in. They were applauding my coming out? Embarrassed and reeling, I stomped into the house.
“You guys are such weirdos!” I yelled over my shoulder. But they were my weirdos, and I loved them. The sound of the applause followed me into the house, only adding fuel to the remarkable blush I felt heat my cheeks. I made sure to slam the door for effect, but underneath the bravado, I was smiling.
And I’m pretty positive they knew it.
I was officially out, I thought as I lay on my bed staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars I’d glued to my ceiling in the third grade. That knowledge brought with it a certain confidence. And maybe it was time to put that confidence to work.
*
“Whoa,” Berta said when I joined her at her locker for what would be the last day of my junior year. “What is happening here?”
“What?” I asked nonchalantly. I knew exactly what.
“You look…amazing,” she said, turning so she could give me a full once-over.
I smiled at my cousin and enjoyed that little boost to my ego. “Thank you. I thought I’d put in some effort since it’s the last day of school and all.”
“So this is a celebratory look?”
“Yes. That is exactly what this is.” In all honesty, I hadn’t done a ton different. But something about the events of the past week had me wanting to go the extra mile. So I’d worn my hair down, which was a rare occurrence all on its own. But I’d also tamed my hair into subtle waves with the use of a product I’d swiped from my mother’s bathroom. Then I’d added some lip gloss, and bam—there was an extra spring in my step. I liked the way I looked. It mirrored the way I’d been feeling lately.
“And this has nothing to do with you spending time with Melanie and her minions at the beach? Because if I’m being honest, it feels that way.” She slammed her locker and I passed her a disbelieving look as we headed off to class.
“Melanie? What? No way. You realize that’s impossible. You have to trust me on this.”
“I will. I just…miss you is all. You’re so different lately.”
I paused and turned to her, realizing that I had been a little MIA. “I’m sorry about that. I miss you, too. We should do something this week. Want to?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.”
We said good-bye and headed to our respective first periods.
The day went by in a haze of raucous teenagers anxious for summer freedom and teachers doing what they could to keep them contained until the final bell. Amidst it all, there had been no Courtney. Her desk sat noticeably vacant in history class.
“Beringer, where’s your friend?”
I glanced at Travis, who waited for me outside history. “I actually don’t know.”
“She’s in the office,” Melanie said strolling past us. “Withdrawing.”
Instantly, we were both following her. “What, leaving school?” Travis asked.
I shook my head, not understanding. “Why?”
Melanie turned calmly. “Listen, I’m just saying what I saw. Her father is asking for her records. She’s out of here.”
I didn’t wait around for more and took off to the front office. No sign of Courtney or her dad anywhere. I dashed outside just in time to see a black Town Car exit the parking lot. What the hell was going on?
I called Courtney’s phone, but it rolled immediately to voice mail. I hung up and fired off a text. You’re leaving?
But it went unanswered.
The remaining hours of the school day existed to torture me as I watched the seconds tick by with excruciating leisure. The clock hated me and I hated it. There’d been no word from Courtney, no explanation, but the news of her departure sure did spread fast. One kid thought she’d been caught with drugs. Another heard she would be commuting to a private school an hour away. It was Netta who broke the news to me.
“I’m sorry to say that her parents are getting a divorce. Her mother has decided she doesn’t want to be married to her father anymore,” she told me from her porch that afternoon. She had the same blue eyes as Courtney, and today they held sadness. “Courtney is moving back east with her mother.”
“For good?” I asked, my heart heavy like lead.
“I’m afraid so. They stopped in to say good-bye an hour ago before heading to the airport in Santa Barbara.”
“She didn’t say anything to me. Nothing.”
She shook her head. “It all happened very quickly, and Courtney hasn’t had the easiest time, as you can imagine. I’m sure you’ll hear from her once she catches her breath.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Netta.”
“Sweetheart, can I get you a soft drink or something to eat? We can commiserate together if you like.”
I forced a smile, because she really was one of the nicest people. “No, but thank you.” I gave her a hug. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“Me, too, Margaret. I was so happy to have her here. We were going to catch up on the time we’d missed.”
“Maybe she’ll be back one day.”
She nodded, her gaze falling to the ground. “That would make me happy.”
I gestured behind me. “I better get home, but I’ll stop by next week to say hi, if that’s okay.”
She seemed to perk up at the idea and her smile returned. “I would like that very much.”
“See you then. Bye, Netta.”
“Good-bye, Margaret. Give my best to your parents.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turned and descended the steps as the summer I’d looked forward to, planned on, faded like the waning sun behind the clouds. But more than that, my heart ached for Courtney, for what she must have been going through. Just when she thought she’d found stability, a place she could settle in, it was yanked out from under her yet again.
This weekend there would be gatherings, barbecues, and sales all over town in celebration of the end of the school year. Tanner Peak had a way of going all out when it came to ushering in new seasons. The day I’d been waiting for all year was here, and yet it didn’t matter in the scheme of things anymore. Celebrating was now the furthest thing from my mind. With a heavy heart, I headed home, thinking of the girl who wore plaid skirts and boots. Who was smart and kind and beautiful. Who’d affected me more than I would have thought possible, but seemed a little lost herself.
No, the summer I’d longed for didn’t seem to matter as much anymore. The edges seemed duller. Courtney Carrington had sparked my life into color, and now that she was gone, everything else felt bleak and gray.
Chapter Six
The third summer
“We have a year of college behind us,” Berta said thoughtfully. “Does that seem possible to you?” She sipped from her hazelnut latte housed in a giant mug. Steam rose grandly from its center.
“We are, in fact, sophomores now,” I said in amazement and took a pull from my iced coffee in a boring plastic cup. While I was a little jealous of the glorious mug Berta held with both hands, I was unable to stomach hot beverages in the midst of the warm summer temperatures, something I planned to work on. It was good to have goals in life.
It had been two weeks since Berta had returned to town from UC Santa Barbara and I’d taken my last exam at the community branch just outside of town. We were free of college for the summer, and the future now loomed in front of us, big and bold. The world was ours to explore for the next three months.
Berta sat back in the oversized armchair alongside the window at Bag of Beans, Tanner Peak’s newly opened coffeehouse. The competition for business between Beans and the well-established café had been fodder for the town’s new Facebook page. The youth of Tanner Peak were all about the converted cottage full of couches and the fancy espresso drinks. However, the older generation stood by the traditional cup of joe found at the Berry Good Café. Lately, I’d started every morning at Bag of Beans and enjoyed how much busier it was now that many of my old classmates had returned to town from school. “How crazy is that?” Berta asked. “We’re seriously growing up.”
“Is it strange that I already feel it? The impending responsibility that will come with actually graduating in three short years?” Well, two and a half for me. I planned to graduate early.
Berta tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head. “No, because I’m going out of my mind with all the things I need to accomplish before August. Moving from a dorm to an apartment is going to require a ton more stuff. I need to shop and shop like it’s my job.”
“Luckily you were born with a prominent retail gene.”
She pointed at me. “There is that. You’re good at seeing the bright side of things, Maggie. I appreciate that about you. Then there’s your uncanny ability to detect cookies in the vicinity.”
“That cookie thing took years of work.”
She pointed at the sincerity on her face. “Nothing but gratitude.”
“I’m just making sure you get it.”
“Ladies,” Travis said, settling next to us with what looked to be a dessert masquerading as coffee. He didn’t ask if he could join us, but that was just Travis.
“Aren’t you supp
osed to be applying for jobs today?” Berta asked him between sips.
He gestured to his coffee imposter. “My precursor to rejection.”
I shook my head. “You won’t face rejection and you know it. This town loves you. There are parades in your honor.”
He perked up and smiled. “They do, don’t they? Parade would be nice. Just sayin’.”
I shook my head at him and laughed. “I’d start organizing promptly, but I’m sure it’s in the works.”
The last two years had been a big one in terms of our friendship. Travis and I had found a common ground that summer before our senior year. Courtney Carrington and her brief visit had brought us together in a sense. As annoying as he could be on one level, he was actually kind of a cool human on another. Who knew? Along with that newfound friendship, something interesting had happened. The social hierarchy I’d always known high school to be crumbled, and the senior class spent our last year…being people. Maybe it stemmed from the knowledge that it would be our final year together. Regardless, we chilled the hell out and did crazy things like sitting at different lunch tables in the cafeteria. It was a few unique months of wonderful madness.
And now it was all behind us. We’d scattered to various parts of the country and returned, all with tales to tell of all the growing up we’d done. The levels of life we’d conquered.
Well, all but me and Travis. I’d remained on the farm but commuted to Santa Barbara City College for classes three times a week. Travis, however, had jumped straight into the world of employment, working full-time at Amundson’s Hardware. Though he was now ready to move on, quite literally, to greener pastures.
“I’m looking for work where I can use my hands,” he explained. “Tired of ringing stuff up at a register. Construction, farming, firefighting. Something with an outdoor component so I could put these magnificent puppies to work.” He flexed six different ways and I laughed at the fact that he cherished his muscles so desperately. Travis, in my opinion, was an enjoyable cliché sent to brighten my life and entertain me endlessly. The fact that he was totally on board for the teasing made him the best sport ever. I was keeping him.
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