“I called my grandma. The one in Hawaii. She walked me through how to make them,” she says as we sit. “And it’s her recipe, so I definitely don’t think you’ve had this before.”
When she opens it, there’s a tiny hiss of steam.
“I think they’re best if they’re still warm. I pretty much wrapped the nori around them, threw them right in the container, and floored it over here,” Blake says while I peer down at the rectangular blocks she’s brought for us to eat, rice and a pink hunk of meat wrapped together with a thin piece of seaweed.
“Is that…? Is that Spam?” I ask. I am no stranger to Spam, especially when a twelve-ounce tin is under three dollars at the local grocery store.
But I can’t say I’ve ever had it quite like this.
Blake nods, placing the container down on the blanket in between us. “Spam musubi. You can kinda just…” Her voice trails off, and she reaches out, picking one up and taking a big bite out of it.
“My mom would never eat something like this. She was such a picky eater,” I say as I imitate Blake, reaching out to grab one, the tiny brick warm underneath my fingertips. I bring it cautiously to my mouth, taking a much smaller bite than she just had.
It’s a lot of things all at once. Sweet, salty… sticky? But it’s not bad. I’m surprised to find I actually really like it.
Blake stares at me expectantly, a concerned crease forming between her eyebrows, like she’s actually nervous for once.
“It’s really good!” I say, and it wipes the crease away as her whole face lights up. “I think my mom would’ve even liked it, if she could’ve gotten past the seaweed. It’s definitely the best Spam has ever tasted.”
She laughs at that, and we keep digging in, until the container of Spam musubi is all gone and it’s time for the apple tarts, crispy and sweet and delicious.
Afterward, we scour the grass around our picnic blanket while I try to find a four-leaf clover, the countdown clock for list completion now sitting at less than ten days.
My mom had been so lucky, she probably found it in an afternoon.
Meanwhile, I’ve been staring at the ground everywhere I go for the past two weeks, and still nothing.
“So,” Blake asks from behind me. “How was talking to Matt? It, uh, didn’t look like it went too well.”
“You can say that again,” I say, letting out a long sigh. I lean forward, plucking a clover from the grass, dismayed to see it only has three leaves. Just like the last five I’ve picked.
I try to think of a way to talk to her about all of this, without giving too much away.
“I just want to make things better. Kiera says I’m going to ruin our senior year if I don’t, and I know she’s right. I’ll ruin it for my other friends, too. And… I don’t know. I really feel like I can now. Like the list is leading me to it. A way to make things feel right between us, you know? I just have to keep going.”
“Is that why you kissed that other guy?” she asks. “Because things didn’t feel right between you and Matt?”
Is that why I—wait. What?
I whip around to face her, my heart going into triple time in my chest. “You know?”
“Yeah,” she says with a shrug. “Since like the first day of work. Cassie Evans told me by lunchtime.”
She’d known all along. When we’d gone to the bookstore, and unpacked at her house, and sat atop the cliff at Huckabee State Park. Even now, standing here.
I search her face, but there’s no sign of judgment. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t think of me any differently.
Which is maybe why she’s the first person I tell the truth to. “Yeah. It is,” I say.
I’ve always given another excuse for our breakups, cloaked it in clinginess or needing to focus on schoolwork, or Jake’s flask. Never the real reason.
I shrug. “But a lot of things haven’t felt right the past three years. I haven’t felt right. Not until the list showed up.” I look up at her, smiling. “Not until you showed up in Huckabee and made me jump off cliffs and stuff.”
She smiles back at me, and I notice she’s clutching not one, not two, but three four-leaf clovers.
“Blake,” I say, pointing down at her hands. “You do know if you pick all of them, there’ll be none left for me to find.”
“Good point,” she says, opening her hands, a small shower of green falling from her palms.
We look around for a few more minutes before I accept defeat. I lie back on the checkered picnic blanket, pulling the list out of my pocket and unfolding it, using a pink pen I brought from Nina’s to check off “3. Go on a picnic” and “4. Try a new food.”
No revelations about Mom, or invaluable life lessons here. But at least it was fun.
“So, do you think that’s the solution?” Blake asks. “Changing yourself?”
“Well, not exactly changing myself,” I clarify. “More like becoming myself, you know?”
“Just… make sure it’s for you,” Blake says as she plucks a few blades of grass and chucks them into the wind, the both of us watching them float away. “I was in a relationship before and it felt like I changed so much of who I was to fit what I thought she wanted. Like I cared more about what she thought of me than what I thought of me.”
“She.” My skin prickles at the word. She. “You’re…”
Blake whips her head around to look at me. “Yeah, uh… gay. I’m gay. Is that…?”
“Cool! Totally cool, of course,” I say as I smooth out the blanket underneath us. I had wondered. When Paul had told her he was gay at Nina’s, when Jake had flirted with her at Snyder’s Orchard. “But you’re right. That’s not what I want to do.”
We sit in silence for a few moments, watching the clouds drift by overhead.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Blake asks.
I let out a long sigh, rolling over onto my side to face her. “We’ve got a few back-to-back showings going on at my house, even though we haven’t even found our new house yet. So… absolutely nothing. Why?”
She gives me a mischievous grin, holding up a red lifeguard lanyard filled with keys. “I’m closing tomorrow.”
I look down at the list, my eyes landing on
8. Skinny-dip in Huckabee Pool after hours.
I groan and cover my face with the corner of the checkered blanket. “This list is going to kill me.”
16
Front gate in 5.
I peer down at the text from Blake, then look up to watch the last few sets of headlights pull out of the Huckabee Pool parking lot, driving off down the road. When I hear the creak of her truck door and see her climbing back out of the driver’s seat, I creep out of the bushes by the bike rack and make a beeline for the front gate.
“You ready?” she asks as she pulls the lanyard keys out of her pocket, using one to reopen the gold lock keeping the gate closed.
“Maybe? I don’t know.” I groan, resting my forehead against her warm shoulder. “Are you sure everyone’s gone?”
She pulls the chain out from between the links it’s wrapped around. “Positive,” she says, using her foot to tap open the gate. It squeaks noisily open to reveal a dark and empty pool deck, not a soul in sight.
We walk inside, stopping at the edge of the water.
I’ve never seen the pool like this. Completely quiet, the moonlight reflecting off the ripples in the water. If I didn’t know just how gross it was during the daylight hours, hair balls rolling around on the bottom, dead bugs floating on the top, I’d actually think it looked kind of beautiful.
“Why would she want to skinny-dip in this? I definitely don’t understand this one. I bet the water hasn’t been cleaned since my mom swam in it,” I say, and Blake laughs.
“Not very well, I can tell you that.” She shrugs. “Maybe you just have to do it. Maybe there is no why.”
I stare at the water for a few more moments, my pulse quickening as I think about what comes next. “Count of three we take off our clothes,
okay?”
I look over at Blake, and she nods in agreement. “Deal.”
“One.”
“Two,” she says back.
“Three.”
I start to pull off my sundress, stopping suddenly when I see Blake glance over at me. My face burns underneath her gaze, my body suddenly ablaze.
“Blake! I swear to God, don’t look!” I hit her shoulder and she steps back, clapping her hands over her eyes, the both of us laughing. But something lingers under the surface. This strange new energy between us.
“I won’t! Here—” She turns around, pulling one hand away and motioning for me to do the same. “We’ll both turn our backs, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, following her instructions.
We’re both silent for a long moment. I look down to see the skin above my heart dancing, the rhythm uneven.
“Do we have to count down again?” Blake asks, breaking the tension as the both of us burst into giggles.
“Let’s just go for it,” I say as I rip off my sundress. Two seconds later my rose-colored bra and striped underwear land in a pile on the pool deck too.
“Is it cold?” I ask, cautiously reaching my foot out to dunk a toe into the water. But as I do, out of the corner of my eye, I see her pull her red bikini top off, her back completely bare, the lines of her shoulder blades and dip of her spine a shadow in the darkness.
“It’s probably—” She starts to turn around, and I jump as I try to cover my body with my arms and snap my gaze away at the same time.
“Blake!” I squeak out, but I’m already losing my balance in surprise and…
—Smack—
I tumble into the icy water, submerging completely.
“Freezing,” she finishes when I come up, coughing, chlorine stinging at my eyes and throat.
I rub my eyes, but a splash next to me soaks me all over again, a wave of water right to the face.
“Really?” I say when Blake surfaces, her hair slicked back. I skim my fingers across the surface to shoot a wave back at her, and the two of us laugh as we push water back and forth at each other, white foam forming at the surface, bubbling.
“All right, all right!” she says when I get her right in the eyeballs, holding up her hands in defeat. “Truce. I call truce!”
I stop splashing, the water quietly hissing as it calms, giving way to absolute silence. My eyes lock with Blake’s, and I feel my stomach flutter at the intensity of her gaze, my breath hitching in my chest as she moves just half a step closer.
Unconsciously, my eyes move down to her lips, to the sharp lines of her collarbone.
Something about this moment and the freeness of it, skinny-dipping at the Huckabee Pool, pulling me toward her. To this. To…
“Emily?” a voice asks, but I know Blake’s lips aren’t moving because I’m still looking at them.
I swing my head around wildly to see Matt, his eyes wide with surprise, his phone flashlight smacking me square in the eye.
“Matt! Don’t look!” I say as Blake and I paddle to the edge, flattening ourselves against it. Matt quickly squeezes his eyes shut.
“I just came back because I forgot my—wait. Are you… skinny-dipping?” he asks, incredulous.
I clamor out of the water, Blake following just behind me. I quickly pull on my dress, the water making the fabric suction to my body.
“Maybe?” I squeak back, clutching my bra and underwear to my dread-filled chest.
What will he think of me now? Kissing someone else at prom. Swimming naked in the Huckabee Pool. Oh God, I’ve just ruined—
And then he starts to laugh.
“That’s actually pretty badass,” he says, his voice sounding… slightly impressed, not pained for once.
“You won’t tell anyone?” Blake asks, and I can tell she’s nervous, the expression on her face unfamiliar. He pops one of his eyes open, opening the other when he sees we’re fully clothed.
“Matt doesn’t snitch,” I say, and I know this because before he was my boyfriend, Matt was my middle school partner in crime. The one who refused to break under pressure, staying strong even when Kiera tapped out.
“I dare you,” Matt had said after lunch in sixth grade, holding up a tiny green garden snake, “to set this loose in math class.”
“Deal,” I’d said without as much as a second thought.
Half an hour later, Mr. Benson’s sixth-grade math class had to be evacuated, each of us getting individually grilled in the hallway while the school janitor, Mr. Wibble, scoured the classroom for the snake.
Matt knew it was me and didn’t say anything.
“He won’t even rat you out when Mr. Benson threatens detention,” I say.
The corner of his mouth ticks up into a smile at my words. “Not even then.” His eyes meet mine, and he nods to the main road. “A patrol car drives past in ten minutes to check on the place after a couple of freshmen broke in last month. You may want to get out of here.” He holds up a key ring, his eyes flicking to Blake. “I’ve got a spare. I can lock up.”
“Thanks, Matt.” I reach out to give his arm a squeeze. He closes off just the tiniest bit, a pained wince, but it’s a fraction of what it’s been.
Then Blake grabs my hand, and in a blink the two of us run into the night, dripping our way to the exit, happiness filling my chest. The feel of her hand in mine takes me back to that moment in the pool, her eyes locked on mine, her lips…
I push it away, giving it a name. A source. The rush of the list. That’s all it was. I’d gotten swept up in the experience, the exhilaration of skinny-dipping.
I glance back at Matt and he shakes his head, but he’s smiling. Our first conversation in more than a month. Well, our first good conversation in a month, the list and my mom guiding me in the right direction.
And just like that this night is a step closer to making everything more than right.
Maybe it’s a step to making it better.
17
I spend most of the next day hiding in my room while my dad is on the phone with the real estate agent.
There’s been an offer on the house.
Definitely a bit of a buzzkill after my whirlwind of a night.
I should be packing the last of my stuff, but instead I’m going through the box of my mom’s, laying everything out on the floor around me. I’m still looking for something to help me understand what the list meant to her. I reach out for one of the cassette tapes, even though I have no way to play it, and when I open the plastic box, I see a note taped to the inside in my dad’s messy handwriting.
Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll be waiting.
Yours, Joe
“Let me know if you change your mind”? What did that mean?
I look toward the door, his muffled voice drifting through from the other side. I wish I could talk to him about it, but I don’t even know where to start.
He’d probably have thrown out this entire box if he’d come across it. Just like everything else.
In fact, I’ve been hiding it underneath my bed, surrounding it with other boxes and blankets, because I’m afraid he’ll do just that. He already gets upset with me for “trying to keep too much,” for “making excuses” instead of finishing her closet.
I’m pulled away from the note when my phone screen lights up, buzzing noisily on the floor next to me. Kiera? That’s weird.
It’s Sunday, but I wasn’t expecting a call from her, since she’ll be back from Misty Oasis tomorrow, for our traditional unpack and bake night. I found the perfect carrot cake recipe I know she’ll love.
I reach out, the green accept button transforming into her face.
“Hey!” I say, pushing aside the old soccer T-shirt and the 2000 yearbook to lean back against the foot of my bed. “Noon? Isn’t it a little early for Misty Oasis phone time?”
She nods, holding up a stack of certificates. “End-of-camp awards ceremony is tonight, so I won’t be able to call later.”
“
Ooo, fun.” I flash her a big smile. “You’re back tomorrow! I can’t wait.”
She doesn’t say anything. She just bites her lip, looking away. “Listen, Em. I, uh…” Her voice trails off, and my heart sinks straight to the floor. I knew something was weird about this call. Had Matt said something to her? “Todd invited me and a couple of the other counselors to his house, and I said yes and—”
“Hey!” I say, trying to keep the smile on my face. “That’s super cool, Kiera. I’m really happy for you.”
I am happy for her. I mean, it’s her first boyfriend. Of course she wants to spend all the time she can with him.
But I can’t deny the fact that it hurts, the fact that she doesn’t want to come back to Huckabee. To the carrot cake recipe I scoured the internet for, excited for her return, and our annual tradition.
She’s fine and happier being away from here. Being away from me and our current mess of a friend group.
She looks up, her eyes round and hopeful. “Really? Listen, I know we have plans and I haven’t been there to help with all the Matt stuff, and I’m really sorry about that. But I’ll definitely make it up to you.”
I wave my hand like it’s no big deal. “Don’t even worry about it,” I say. “In fact, I think things are finally starting to come together with all of that.”
Kiera leans forward, looking excited. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding enthusiastically. I know I’m overselling, but her expression stirs me on. I picture Matt’s smile yesterday on the pool deck. “I mean, he actually talked to me yesterday.”
“He did?” Kiera is practically squealing.
I nod. “He caught me after-hours skinny-dipping yesterday at the pool—”
“Hold up,” Kiera says, trying to process what I’ve just told her. “You went skinny-dipping?”
“Yeah, with Blake. Anyway, Matt came back because he forgot something, and—”
“Em,” Kiera says, cutting me off. She nods, giving me the same look of admiration that Matt gave me yesterday. A look I haven’t seen in three whole years. From any of my friends. “That’s pretty badass.”
The Lucky List Page 13
