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

by Caroline Andrus

  “Good.” She smiles. “I think we could be good friends, Summer.”

  I return the smile. I hope she’s right.

  As our sleepover progresses, I silently thank my parents for pushing the sleepover issue. Abigail is a lot of fun. She’s quick to make jokes, and we like a lot of the same movies. After sneaking down to the kitchen for my meds and a pile of snacks, I return to my room. We put on a mid 2000’s rom-com and paint our nails while we talk.

  “So, what do you think of Kane?” Abigail asks.

  “He’s nice,” I say automatically.

  Abigail rolls her eyes. “He might be the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

  “Really?” That’s high praise, but considering what I know of Kane, not surprising.

  “Kane is like a puppy. He’s quick to give away his loyalty and sometimes too trusting.” She gives me a pointed look. “I like you, Summer, but I’ve been friends with Kane for years. I’m sure you’ve already realized this, but he doesn’t just like you, he like likes you. Please, don’t break him.”

  “I promise, I have no intention of breaking him.”

  “Don’t lead him on either. If you don’t like him like him, you’ve got to let him know. Soon.”

  I swallow hard. How did I end up having this conversation?

  13

  Kane

  I love my house but hanging out at Mark’s is the best. As the youngest of five kids—with an eleven-year gap between kid four and Mark—he’s sort of raised himself. I’ll never say it out loud, but I think by the time Mark was born, his parents were done with the whole parenting thing.

  When we were little, Mark spent a lot of time at my house while his parents were gone. His siblings did a lot of babysitting, but it wasn’t long before they moved on to college and then real life. After I moved, and Abigail moved into my old house, she sort of took over keeping Mark company when I couldn’t. Now that we’re older, his house has become our central hangout. We can do pretty much anything we want because his parents are rarely home. Abigail jokes that Mark’s parents got lucky with him. If I was their kid, they wouldn’t be able to get away with leaving me alone so often. Or ever. The cast on my wrist tells me she’s probably right.

  As usual, Mark’s parents are gone. I think he said something about them being in Paris for their anniversary. Or was it Venice? Whatever, somewhere in Europe, so we have free reign of the house tonight.

  I rummage through the film collection in Mark’s den. Shoving aside movie after movie, I search for what I’m sure I’ve seen here before.

  We dropped Summer and Abigail off twenty minutes ago, and already I’m preparing for my next plan of action as far as Summer is concerned.

  “Seriously dude, what are you doing? My mom will kill me if you don’t put those back exactly as you found them.”

  He’s exaggerating, I think, but I start gathering the DVD’s I’ve scattered on the floor around me. “There's no way these were organized before I got my hands on them,” I say.

  Mark doesn't reply, he’s lounging on the couch, engrossed in something on his phone, which is fine, because I’m on a mission.

  “Ah-ha!” I hold up a DVD case triumphantly.

  Mark glances up from his phone and cocks an eyebrow at the movie in my hand. “Say Anything? Really? If you want an old movie, I’m pretty sure my dad has Die Hard and Back to the Future.”

  “This is research.” I pull the disc out of the case and pop it into the DVD player.

  “Do I even want to know?”

  “This is Summer’s favorite movie. She says it's romantic.” I point at Mark. “Research.”

  “Whatever, man. Just don't expect me to pay attention.”

  I ignore him and press play, then take a seat in the recliner.

  When the movie ends, Mark is fast asleep on the couch, his mouth gaping open. I smirk at him and decide this would be the perfect opportunity to see how many cotton balls I can shove into his mouth without waking him. I move to ease the footrest on my recliner closed but press too hard and it slams shut. Mark startles awake, and his phone slides from his chest to the floor.

  So much for my prank. I get up to retrieve the disc from the player.

  “So, how was the research,” Mark asks with a yawn.

  Shoving the DVD case back on the shelf, I turn and face him. “I don’t get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “The whole thing.”

  Mark laughs. “Don’t ask me.”

  “But I liked the part where he shows up at her house and holds the old radio up outside her bedroom window.”

  “Save this conversation for Summer, dude.”

  I shut up. I didn’t expect Mark to want to talk about the movie anyway. I mean, he slept through most of it.

  “I’m bored.” I break the silence.

  “Wanna play Xbox?”

  “Sure. Even though you always win.”

  “Not my fault you’re so bad at video games.”

  I sock him playfully in the arm, well, mostly playfully, and hand him a controller.

  We spend the rest of the evening playing games. Mark wins every time, of course.

  If Say Anything has taught me anything it’s that I need to step up my game. I’m not sure how though.

  I crash on Mark’s couch for the night and he drops me off at home late the next morning.

  When I walk in the front door, I hear Mom humming to herself. I dump my bag and skateboard on the floor in the entryway and follow the sounds to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Mom.” I casually lean against the counter and watch as she mixes up a bowl of chicken salad.

  “Hey, hon.” She smiles at me, then continues mixing. “How was the beach yesterday? I see you didn’t break anything.”

  I chuckle, then reach out and dip my finger in the chicken salad, scooping up a glob and popping it into my mouth. She hits my hand with the spoon when I go for seconds.

  “The beach was good,” I say.

  “Just good? You’re not going to regale me with tales of your adventures?” She sets the spoon in the bowl and gives me her full attention. “What’s up?”

  “Mom, how do I get a girl to like me?”

  She pauses, blinking, as she silently studies my face. “That’s a very open question. I’m not sure how to answer.” She purses her lips. “Who’s the girl?”

  “Summer,” I say. “The girl from that last visit to urgent care.”

  “Ahh.” A slow smile spreads across her lips.

  “You’ve got to help me, Mom. I’ve asked her out twice, and she fed me some line about not dating anyone right now.” I roll my eyes. “But she came to the beach with us yesterday and we hung out for hours. She’s so easy to talk to, and I think she had a good time with me.”

  “You should respect her wishes. Be her friend, but don’t force yourself at her.”

  “But Mom, I really, really like her. She’s my partner in foods class, so we’ve hung out a couple times, and she’s so nice and fun and pretty.”

  “Well,” she pauses, lost in thought. “Show her I raised you to be chivalrous and respectful. It’s the little things that really add up. Opening doors for her, offering to carry her backpack, those kinds of things.”

  I can totally handle that. “Thanks, Mom.” I give her a kiss on the cheek, while stealing another finger scoop of chicken salad. She smacks me in the arm, and I race from the kitchen.

  An hour later, inspiration strikes. What’s more chivalrous than gift giving? I turn off the TV I’ve been watching and shout to Mom, “I’m heading out for a bit. Back soon!”

  Mom calls back a farewell from her office down the hall.

  I stop short when I reach the entryway. Mom must have confiscated my board again while I was in front of the TV. I should have hidden it in my room, maybe she would have forgotten. Probably not.

  I pull my bike from the garage and pedal through the streets of Sol del Mar, until I end up at the Ocean View Market. It’s a misleading name, because
there are about six blocks of residential houses and apartments separating the store from the sea. There’s a chance you can see the ocean from the roof, but I’ve never had the opportunity to find out. Like most locals, I like to shop at the OVM because it’s far enough from the boardwalk that tourists don’t usually wander in.

  Entering the store, I head straight for the snack and candy aisle near the back. I have to squeeze past a group of girls who probably go to my school, and eventually I find the gummy bears.

  “Isn’t that the guy Summer’s been hanging with?” I hear one girl say in a hushed voice.

  “I swear I saw them getting ice cream at the beach yesterday,” another girl says. There's a chorus of shushing and more giggles.

  I strain my ears to hear more, but there’s no need, because from the corner of my eye I catch one of the girls approaching on my left.

  “Hey.”

  Glancing up from the candy, I recognize the girl from school. She’s short, with long, silky black hair and dark almond eyes. Her lids are painted sparkly pink and she’s smiling.

  “Hey,” I echo, then wait for her to continue.

  “We couldn’t help but notice that Summer Swanson has been hanging with you at school. We were just wondering…are you guys a thing?”

  I blink. “A thing?”

  “You know, are you dating?”

  “Oh. Uh, no,” I admit. I wish I could tell her I was dating Summer, but that would be a lie. “We’re just friends.”

  “Oh.” She looks at the floor. I wonder why she sounds so disappointed. “Okay, sorry to bug you.”

  “Wait, what’s your name?”

  Her eyes meet mine again. “Rachel Yang.”

  “I’m Kane.”

  “I know,” she says. “We have foods class together.”

  So that’s where I’ve seen her.

  “Right,” I say. “I knew that.” I so didn’t know that. It’s hard for me to pay attention to anything else when Summer is around.

  “See you around.” Rachel gives a little wave, then returns to her friends. They converge on her, like a pack of hyenas on a carcass.

  14

  Summer

  Abigail’s little speech is on my mind all Sunday. I envy the friendship she shares with Kane and Mark. She’s given me a lot to think about.

  Kane likes me—a lot. And the more time I spend with him, the more I like him too. He’s funny and sweet and deserves someone far less complicated than me. I shouldn’t be with anyone, but especially not someone so good. It’s not fair to him. Especially since I’m not about to tell him exactly how broken I am. The last thing I want is to be labeled The Sick Girl.

  My emotions wage war all day and night. It’s like the hamster in my brain, running on its little wheel, is on some kind of drug. Unable to stop or even slow down. Sleep, which is hard to come by on my best nights, is non-existent.

  When morning comes, I’m already short on spoons. I'm both mentally and physically exhausted. I’ve gone back and forth in my head; give this thing with Kane a chance or end things before he has a chance to really get hurt.

  Standing in the lunch line at school, I finally decide to let him down easy. Before he becomes too invested in the idea of a relationship with me.

  As I exit the lunch line, my gaze falls upon my old lunch table in the cafeteria. Rachel is there, talking animatedly with Avery and Madison from the volleyball team. Rachel seems to feel my eyes on her, and she looks up. Our eyes meet, and I hurry out of the cafeteria, nearly bumping into Kane at the door in my mad dash to escape my past.

  Kane grins and reaches out to steady my lunch tray.

  “Hey,” he says, taking the tray from my hands. He adjusts the backpack hanging from his right shoulder. “Let me.”

  “Oh,” I say in surprise. Dammit, how can I break the news to him when he’s being so sweet? “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Kane begins walking, and the corner of my mouth twitches up. We reach the door to the courtyard, and he pushes it open with his back, holding it to allow me through first. “You’re sitting with us again, right?”

  I nod, because my other option is going back to sitting alone. After being accepted by Kane’s friends, I’ve realized I don’t want to go back. That makes my decision to stop things before they start even more difficult.

  Kane leads me to the table where Mark is already sitting and sets the tray down.

  I sit, and Kane takes his place beside me and across from Mark, whose attention is fixed somewhere behind us.

  “Earth to Mark.” Kane waves his hand in front of Mark’s face to get his attention.

  Mark stares at Kane, blank faced for a moment, and says nothing before taking a bite of his pizza.

  Averting my eyes, I focus on my own slice. Grimacing, I place one of my napkins over the cheese and soak up as much of the excess grease as I can. My doctor has advised me to avoid food like this, but I’m not ready to give up this little piece of normalcy. I remove the disgusting napkin and take a bite of the pizza; it’s not quite hot, but it is tasty.

  “So, how was your big sleepover?” Kane asks me.

  Before I can answer, Abigail appears behind him. Glaring, she whacks him in the back of the head with her knuckles.

  “I told you, Kane, sleepovers are sacred. What happens at the sleepover, stays at the sleepover.”

  “Jeez, Abz.” He rubs the back of his head. “Use your words. And it’s a sleepover, not Fight Club.”

  She takes her seat across from me and sticks her tongue out at Kane.

  I take pity on him. “We had a fun time.”

  Kane glances at Abigail, then turns his attention back to me. “Good. I’m glad you two are hitting it off. One more excuse to hang out with us after this term ends.”

  “One more reason?” Mark asks, eyebrows raised. I hadn’t even realized he was paying attention.

  “Obviously I’m número uno.” Kane shoots him a cheeky grin.

  I shift in my seat beside him. Kane’s personality is overwhelming at times. What must it be like to be so open with your feelings all the time?

  “What’s the plan for after school?” Kane asks.

  “Homework,” Abigail says with a groan. “If I don’t ace my bio test my parents will murder me, and I’ll never get into Santa Barbara’s marine biology program.”

  I’m impressed that Abigail wants to be a marine biologist. That would be a really cool job. I used to have plans for after high school...until my disease.

  “Mark?” Kane directs his attention at him.

  Mark shrugs.

  Finally, he looks at me. “And you?”

  “Oh, um…” I look between Kane’s friends. When my eyes meet Abigail’s, I can see her mentally reminding me of our conversation. My mouth feels dry, and I have to swallow before answering. “I was planning to just go home. Do homework. Catch up on sleep.”

  “Did Abz keep you up all night?” Kane winks at Abigail. “I hear she really saws logs.”

  Abigail shoots him a glare. “You’re lucky I don’t have french fries, mister, because if I did, there would be a handful of them heading toward you right now.”

  Kane laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. He turns back to me. “Can I get you to reconsider? I wanted to show you something cool.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch Abigail rolling her eyes. She’s also smiling though.

  “Something cool?” I ask.

  “Something very cool. I promise.”

  I pull my lower lip between my teeth. I really should say no. I really do need to catch up on sleep, but he seems so excited. Abigail is right, Kane is just like a puppy; it’s impossible to tell him no. I feel like I’m going to regret this, but I say, “Okay.”

  The grin on Kane’s face is infectious, and I find myself smiling back. I really hope I don’t regret this.

  Kane and I walk to our foods class together, and we take our seats. Instead of Kane’s usual talking non-stop routine, he’s staring at something b
ehind me, a quizzical expression on his face.

  I narrow my eyes. “What are you staring at?”

  He shakes his head and points behind me.

  Turning in my seat, I look in the direction he’s pointing. All I see is the clock on the classroom wall, telling us there’s one minute until class begins. I turn back, ready to tell him I don’t see anything, when I realize there’s a bag of gummy bears sitting on the table in front of me.

  I open my mouth, then close it. Looking at Kane, I realize what just happened. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

  “I’m so glad you fell for that,” he says, chuckling.

  I roll my eyes, but there’s no suppressing the smile on my face. “What’s this for?”

  “You said they were your favorite.”

  Glancing around the room for Ms. Knope, I open the bag and offer him one.

  “Thanks,” he says.

  “No, thank you.” I select three reds from the bag, and one by one bite off their heads before eating the rest of their bodies.

  “Do you only eat the red ones?” he asks, watching me with interest.

  Shaking my head, I say, “I know it’s weird, but I like to eat them one color at a time, going in rainbow order.”

  He laughs, and I see a few heads turn in our direction.

  Ms. Knope stands from her desk, and I quickly shove the bag of candy in my three-ring binder. Kane’s hand snakes out and reaches into the binder, swiping one more from the bag. “Sorry, it’s an orange,” he whispers before popping it into in his mouth.

  Why did he have to buy me my favorite snack? Kane is making it really difficult for me to turn him down.

  When school ends, I head to the bike racks to meet Kane. He isn’t there yet, but I recognize his blue bike and lean against the rack. I don’t have to wait long before he comes walking out the front door and toward me.

  “So, you do know how to walk through the halls.” I feel like an idiot as soon as the words leave my lips. Hopefully he remembers what I said the last time he asked to meet me here.