Something I'm Good At: A Sol del Mar High Novel

by Caroline Andrus

I shrug. “Wait for my next opportunity to ask her out, I guess. In the meantime, I’m going to keep trying to get to know her and hang out with her.”

  “Try not to scare her off. She seems nice.”

  I shove her lightly again and try to hide my smile.

  8

  Summer

  Repetition is my life these days. Wake up achy and stiff, go to school, come home and have dinner with my family, go to my room and do homework, then try—and usually fail—to sleep.

  Tonight is no different, except it’s a rare night with Dad home in time for dinner. I take my seat at the table with my parents and Mandy, going through the same motions as every other night. Mom is dishing food onto her plate. Dad is trying to hide his phone in his lap, working even at the dinner table.

  I swallow my pills and fill my own plate, pushing my food around and picking at it. I force down a bit so my pills don’t sit in an empty stomach. I don’t have much of an appetite tonight, but I make an effort, to keep my parents off my back. I don’t have to try too hard because Dad’s attention has shifted from his screen to Mandy, his expression confused.

  “Is that all you’re eating?” he asks.

  “I’m a vegetarian now,” she tells him. “It’s wrong to eat cute little animals.”

  “Huh.” Dad drops it and returns to his own dinner.

  “What did Rachel say?” Mom asks.

  “Hmm?”

  “Rachel? You were going to ask her about having a slumber party this weekend.”

  I roll my eyes. “Mom, nobody calls it a slumber party.”

  Mom shoots me a glare. “Cut the sass. You know what I mean, Summer.”

  I shrug. “She can’t make it.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” Mom looks and sounds seriously disappointed. “Maybe some other time.”

  “Hmm,” I make a noncommittal noise; not a confirmation or a denial.

  “You’ve been spending too much time locked up in your room,” Dad says. He’s rarely home, so I don’t know how he knows this.

  I glance at him and say, “I’m a teenager. Isn’t that what we do? Lock ourselves in our rooms and only come out for meals?”

  Mandy giggles, and Dad frowns. He still looks young, though his dark hair is going silver at the temples, his blue eyes are still bright. I get my eyes from him; my blonde hair comes from my mom. But when Dad frowns, his true age shows.

  “Maybe that’s true for other teenagers, but not my daughter.” The look he gives me is severe, and I avert my eyes. He sighs and goes on. “You can’t lock yourself up for the rest of your life. You need to get back to the way things were.”

  I stab at the asparagus on my plate a little too fiercely. The way things were? Yeah right. In what universe is that possible?

  “Listen sweetie,” Mom interjects. “Dad and I were talking. We’d like you to see someone, to talk about how you’re feeling.”

  “I don’t need a shrink, Mom!” Like I’m not a big enough freak already, let’s add therapy? No way.

  “Summer, we realize there is an adjustment period, but we’re worried about you.” Dad’s voice is firm. I have a feeling they’ve rehearsed this speech.

  “Honey, if you could show us that things are getting back to normal we could reconsider the therapy idea.” Mom’s voice is much softer than Dad’s. If this was good cop/bad cop, Mom would definitely be good cop.

  “I see people at school all day long. And I hung out with my foods class partner, like, four days ago.”

  “You’ve been back to school for weeks, and you’ve spent time with friends once. We’d like you to have someone over, get back to how things used to be.”

  “So, what? If I have a slumber party I don’t have to talk about my feelings?” I demand, alternating my glare between my parents.

  They exchange a look, then Mom says, “It would be a start.”

  “Fine. I’ll get someone to sleep over this weekend.” I stare at my nearly full plate. “May I please be excused? I’m not very hungry.”

  Mom and Dad exchange another look, sharing a silent conversation, before Dad says, “Sure.”

  After clearing my place at the table, I hurry to my room and throw the door shut. I collapse onto my bed. Crap, crap, crap. Not only do I need to find someone to sleep over this weekend, I need to ensure I have enough energy for the sleepover.

  Tomorrow is Tuesday, so I have a few days to figure this out. I mentally scroll through the list of girls I know and scratch each of them off in turn. They were all a part of my old life. The life where I was healthy and a part of the team. What other girls did I know?

  Then it hits me. I met Kane’s friends at the skatepark and one of them was a girl. What was her name...Abigail? It would be so awkward to ask her to hang out. We probably have nothing in common. But my alternative is therapy, and there is no way I’m going through with that. I have enough doctors in my life, I don’t need one for my head too.

  I’ve made up my mind. By Thursday, I’ll work up the nerve to ask Abigail if she’s available to hang out.

  I slip on my glasses and pull out my Chemistry textbook. It doesn’t take long before I give up on reading the assigned pages. My mind won’t focus. Instead, I pull out my sketchpad and fine-tune my drawing of Kane. I add a skateboard to the background, then a snowboard. My eyes grow tired, and I fall asleep fully clothed on top of my blankets.

  The alarm blaring on my phone jolts me awake. I’m surprised to find I’ve slept solidly through the night. It’s been a while since that’s happened. I smile to myself; I feel well rested and optimistic. Today will be a good day. At lunch, I’ll ask Abigail to sleep over.

  I breeze through my morning classes, but as lunch draws near, butterflies begin to take flight in my stomach. Am I really going to ask a girl I’ve met once to sleep over at my house? What if she says no? Or, god, what if she says yes? I remind myself that I don’t have to ask her right away. I can wait. But if the opportunity presents itself, I’m going to take it.

  The bell rings, and the moment of truth is on the horizon. I make a detour on my way to the cafeteria to take my pills. I discovered weeks ago that it’s less conspicuous to get my meds at the beginning of lunch period rather than the end. I leave Ms. Hall’s office, and before I can get halfway down the hall, I’m stopped by Mr. Kaiser.

  “Summer.” He’s grinning, as he flags me down. “I was hoping I’d run into you soon.”

  “What’s up, Mr. K?” I’m filled with dread. I know what he’s going to say.

  “The sign-up sheet for stage crew has been up for a little while. I saw Rachel on the list, but I didn’t see your name.”

  I shift my weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, I’m...not really doing any extracurriculars this year. Really focusing on my classes.”

  “That’s too bad. You were the best person I had for makeup and wardrobe. I know you were thinking of trying to get into stage makeup after high school. This would look good on your applications. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

  “I really can’t. I’m sorry.” I take a couple steps back from him. “I have to get to lunch. Bye.” I turn and hurry down the hall toward the cafeteria.

  “At least consider coming back for the spring musical,” he calls after me.

  I hear his words, but I can’t do that. I can’t help with the plays. It would be unfair to everyone if I got really sick again when they were counting on me. Not to mention how painful it would be to spend that much time around Rachel.

  Feeling defeated and emotionally drained, I rush through the lunch line. I carry my tray to my secluded table in the courtyard and take in my surroundings. The brick walls of the school are plastered with posters for homecoming. I overhear a group of younger girls at a table nearby giggling about boys and the dance. My gaze skims over faces, some familiar, some not, and eventually settles on Kane across the courtyard.

  I feel a stab of jealousy as I watch him and his friends. Kane is talking animatedly, waving his arms around. Abigail rolls her ey
es, and Mark shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. I shift my gaze to my lunch tray, avoiding the people around me.

  I’d always heard of feeling alone while surrounded by people, but I never understood it. I do now.

  9

  Kane

  I’ve given Summer her space outside of class. Every day, she eats alone, tucked away in her own corner of the courtyard in the shade of the building. Every day, I make a point to try and catch her eye and wave. But today something is different. I’ve seen her glancing over at my table, but she’s quick to look away. For a girl who always seems so lonely, today she seems particularly sad.

  “Hey guys, I’ve gotta go,” I interrupt Abigail. I’m not sure what she’s talking about. I’ve been so distracted watching Summer for the past few minutes that I wasn’t paying much attention to my friends. I think I caught something about tattoos and sea turtles, but I really can’t say.

  “Go talk to your woman,” Abigail says on a sigh.

  I shoot her a grin, then gather up my backpack and lunch.

  I cross the courtyard and set my bag down on the bench across from Summer. “Hi.”

  “Oh, hey, Kane.” She looks at me for a moment, then returns her focus to her lunch.

  “So, what’s new?”

  She shrugs and continues to stare at her lunch tray, pushing her food around without eating it. This is harder than I thought it would be.

  “Don’t feel much like talking?”

  Another shrug.

  “Well, I’ve got some good news,” I say brightly. “I’m having my cast taken off next week.”

  Her gaze flickers to my cast, which is even more beat up now than it was when she signed it a few weeks ago. “So you’ll get your board back?” she asks softly.

  Score. She’s speaking.

  “That’s the plan. Unless the doctor says something to make my mom change her mind.” I scrunch up my face at the thought, and a smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

  “You’re not going to try to do that…grind thing again, are you?” she asks.

  “Well, not immediately. I mean, if I happen to fall again and break something so soon, Mom might never give my board back.”

  She laughs. “You really are crazy.”

  “I prefer adorable.” I wink, wondering if she remembers that I’ve already used this line on her. She shakes her head, but her smile remains.

  I continue to talk with her for the rest of the lunch period, and she seems happier now than she was before I showed up. Our conversation ends all too soon when the end of period bell rings. “Can I walk you to class?” I ask.

  She opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, I quickly add, “I mean, we are going to the same place, right?”

  She pushes her hair behind her ears, then says, “Okay. Sure.”

  We stand, and I grab her lunch tray. I’m trying to win brownie points in the chivalry department. The small smile that tugs at the corners of her lips at the gesture is becoming familiar. My goal is to make that smile more permanent.

  We stop at Summer’s locker, then walk to foods class. It’s not until we’re settled in our seats that I notice a dark-haired girl watching us. I give her a little wave and she quickly turns around, averting her gaze to the front of the room. Turning back to Summer, I see her smile has faded, replaced by a scowl. I wonder what’s up with that.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “Huh?” she asks. The scowl fades from her lips and her brow is doing the cute scrunched up thing it does when she’s caught by surprise.

  “Brothers or sisters?” I repeat. “I’m an only child. What about you?”

  “Oh, um, I have a little sister.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  The tiny sliver of a smile returns. “Usually a good thing.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “What’s to tell? She’s eleven.”

  “What’s her name?” She’s saying more than she usually says. Maybe talking about something other than her is the right way to go.

  “Mandy.”

  “And you and Mandy get along?”

  “Most of the time. She’s been extra nice ever since…” She bites her lip. There she goes with the secrets again.

  “I always wanted a brother. My mom says that one of me is more than enough.”

  Summer laughs. “I’m not surprised.”

  It feels good to hear her laugh, especially because of something I said.

  “My sister has recently decided that she’s a vegetarian,” she says. “Family dinners have become quite interesting.”

  I laugh. “Are your parents making tofu every night now?”

  “No, thank god.” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “They’re just making extra veggies. The expression on her face while she eats is kind of hilarious. Especially the green beans. She hates green beans.”

  “Do you hate the green beans too?” I prop my elbow on the desk, resting my head in my hand, and study her. Her face lights up when she talks about her sister, it’s a new side of Summer I haven’t seen before, and I like it.

  “I could live a happy life without ever tasting another green bean.” She smiles at me, and though it’s not quite a full smile, she lights the room up just the same.

  “I’m also a part of the green bean hating club,” I say. “We should make t-shirts.”

  “I’d wear mine proudly.”

  “So, you hate green beans. But what do you love? What’s your favorite snack?”

  “Gummy bears.”

  “Really?”

  She nods.

  “Just gummy bears? Or are gummy worms acceptable? What about Sour Patch Kids?”

  She shakes her head. “I’ll eat those, but gummy bears are the best. I like to eat the heads first.”

  “Vicious. You’re not as sweet as you look, huh?”

  Pink creeps into her cheeks and she tips her head forward, her hair blocking her face from my view.

  She’s saved from any further commentary from me when the bell rings, and Ms. Knope calls the class to order. I mentally file away all the little details I’ve just learned for later.

  10

  Summer

  I can’t believe I wussed out on asking Abigail to sleep over yesterday. The day had started so promising. But all it took was that brief conversation with Mr. Kaiser to ruin everything. I thought I was coping pretty well with everything I’ve had to give up, but his encouraging me to come back to stage crew triggered something.

  Today will be different. Nothing will stop me. I will sit with Kane at lunch, and today I will ask Abigail to sleep over.

  Stepping out of the cafeteria, I scan the courtyard for Kane and his friends. I can do this. He’s made it no secret he's interested in me, so there’s no reason he wouldn’t want me to sit with him.

  When I spot him, he’s at his usual table, sitting across from Mark.

  I take a deep breath and pull my shoulders back. With my chin held high, I march right up to their table. I pause a few feet from Kane, a smile on my face, and say, “Can I join you?”

  Kane and Mark both freeze, mouths open in surprise. My smile falters and my fingers curl around the edges of my lunch tray. The plastic ridges dig into my skin. My heart pounds in my chest.

  This was stupid. You don’t just walk up to someone else's lunch table and make yourself at home. I should take my lunch and run away before I make an even bigger fool of myself.

  But then the shock disappears from Kane’s face, replaced by a grin. “Of course you can.”

  I glance at Mark. He smirks and gives me a nod. I take that as an invitation to stay, and my grip on the tray relaxes. I release an uneasy breath, and my heart rate slows.

  “So, Summer, what’s up?” Mark asks.

  I shrug. “Not much. You?”

  Mark has a ridiculous grin on his face, and he keeps looking at Kane. I feel like the butt of a joke.

  “Ow!” Mark flinches, jerking back i
n his seat. He glares at Kane. I’ve clearly missed something.

  “What brings you to our table today?” Kane asks, pulling my attention away from Mark.

  “I just thought it might be nice to sit with people again.” I stare down at my tray. This isn’t really true. I’d be a lot more comfortable sitting alone. But short of showing up at the skatepark, this is the only time I know for sure I’ll see Abigail.

  “Awesome. You’re always welcome at this table,” Kane says. He’s grinning that big goofy grin of his, and I can’t help but smile back.

  “Thanks.” I glance around. “Where’s the third member of your crew?”

  Kane shrugs, and his eyes light up in amusement. “Who cares?”

  “Rude.”

  I spin around in time to see Abigail smack Kane in the back of the head with her palm. She walks around the table and sits beside Mark. Kane laughs and rubs the back of his head.

  “You better watch it, mister,” Abigail says. She sets down her lunch tray and shakes her fork at him. The words are harsh, but her tone is light, and I can see a twinkle in her eyes. I have a feeling this is how they always are together.

  Abigail turns her attention to me. “Are you sure you want to sit with us misfits?”

  “Watching you guys is cheaper than going to the movies and more entertaining.”

  Abigail beams. She looks between Kane and Mark, and says, “I like her. She can stay.”

  I try not to let my face betray how her words make me feel, but the corners of my lips fight to tug upward. They’ve accepted me. I knew Kane would, he already has, but I wasn’t so sure about his friends. Now it’s time to prime them before I go in for the kill.

  “Do you guys have big plans for the weekend?” I ask, pushing a soggy French toast stick around in the syrup on my tray. I wonder if it’s worth eating. I should have gotten something from the salad bar instead.

  “Nothing concrete,” Kane says, pulling a brown paper bag from his backpack and producing a PB&J sandwich. He takes a bite, and with his mouth full says, “Maybe the beach?”