by Foster, Lily
“I know it’s ridiculous,” she said, embarrassed.
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have teased you.”
She looked up at me, still holding onto my shoulders and treading water as she said, “The water does feel great, though. I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust back on the shore.”
“Can you touch one foot to the bottom?”
She considered it for a moment. “Yes,” she said, nodding and laughing.
She tentatively touched one foot down and then the other. Carolyn was on her tip-toes, her face a grimace.
“I guess that’s enough desensitization for one day,” I said as I lifted her up and slung her behind my back cross-wise as I waded back to shore.
“I feel like a sack of flour.”
What you feel like is a walking, talking wet dream. What I actually said was, “Here you go, back on semi-dry land, safe and sound.”
When she looked up at me, her smile made today the best day I’d had in a really, really long time.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” a snarky voice called from behind me. Jeremy froze and then instinctively backed away a few steps.
“Hey, Vanessa,” he said. He sounded uncomfortable, guilty. Maybe that was just me projecting though, because all of a sudden I was feeling exposed, the guilt of acting this way and wanting another boy washing over me.
I turned to see her, arms crossed, looking completely out of place in her black, calf-high combat boots, her snug, black shorts and her tight tank that exposed her belly. She was beautiful in her own way, with jet black hair, fair white skin and bright red, pouty lips. She narrowed her gaze and scrutinized me. Let’s just say that if looks could kill, I’d have been six feet under.
Jeremy asked, “Carolyn, do you know—”
“Vanessa. Yeah. Hi, Vanessa,” I said. She gave a brief, tight smile and no greeting in return.
Vanessa patently ignored me then and smiled sweetly up at Jeremy. “Come on, big boy. You promised you’d help me with that thing after we stop in and see your Grandma, remember?”
“Yeah, sorry.” He looked back to me without smiling and said his regular parting words: “See you around, Carolyn.”
Vanessa linked her arm through his and pressed into his side as they made their way up the hill together. She said something that he replied to and then they both laughed. Vanessa looked back over her shoulder at me for a moment, a smirk on her face.
I got the distinct impression that the joke had been on me.
I resolved that night, as I lay in bed not sleeping, that what I’d been playing at with Jeremy was unwise and it was over. Drew would be home in a few days and my life would get back to normal.
Watching Jeremy and Vanessa together, I could see what he saw in her. She was exciting, ballsy, daring…a risk-taker. Me and my nerdy research projects would probably bore the crap out of Jeremy inside of a week.
They fit together.
The rest of the summer went by…dragged by.
I fell back into my routine. Work, dodge Mrs. Peterman’s advances, punishing work out, cool shower, visit Grandma and then either sketch or fall into bed with my e-reader set on an audio book.
I avoided the lake. I had gone back there once, the day after our last awkward parting. I wanted to smooth things over with her, apologize in some way for Vanessa’s rude behavior and my weird reaction. I wanted it—whatever it was—to continue. But Carolyn wasn’t there and I took that as a sign.
The next time I saw her was a few days before classes started. It was just like last year. I heard Chase ahead of me, howling like a wolf. He was the first to catch sight of the girls’ volleyball team in the middle of tryouts. The coach tried to hush him but as the rest of us made our way into the gym, the catcalls and whistles only got louder. Their coach threw her hands up, exasperated.
I watched Drew make his way over to Carolyn, lean down and whisper something in her ear. She smiled up at him. She was stretching. He reached a hand down to help her up and then pulled her close once she was on her feet. He whispered in her ear again and then ran his hand over her ass before she swatted him away and laughed, blushing. Fuck, it hurt. And I knew I had no right to feel that way.
I didn’t shower after practice; I just needed to get out of there. I threw my gear into my truck and took off, driving aimlessly. Not really without a destination, I suppose, as I found myself pulling into the Petermans’ driveway under the pretense of picking up the last of my tools. I had left a cable cutter in their garage but Denny could have easily gotten it when he came to settle the account with them.
I rang the bell and Beth answered. She was alone, as usual. She looked me over from head to toe, taking in the sweaty clothes that clung to my skin. She said she was just about to take a dip in the pool. Did I want to join her?
This time I didn’t say no.
It was as if those two weeks had never happened, like I’d imagined it all. Jeremy passed me in the hallway as if he didn’t even know me.
The first time it happened, I was mid-smile, about to say hello when he strode past. I turned around to follow him only to lock eyes with Vanessa, who was standing by his locker waiting for him. The look she shot me was pure evil.
Unlike last year, it seemed like I crossed paths with him constantly now. That first day, after ignoring me, I practically crashed into him as I absentmindedly made my way out of AP Calculus. He didn’t stop to help me pick up my notebook or calculator, leaving me to scrounge on the floor as hundreds of bodies hurriedly pushed through the hallways. The icing on the cake? As I made my way into the cafeteria, I heard Drew call my name and saw Erica waving me over to our table. Jeremy was seated at the other end of the long table with Will and Mike. On his other side was Samantha. She had her hand resting on Jeremy’s shoulder as she threw her head back and laughed at whatever hilarious thing he’d just said. Oh please, not her.
Will called over, “Hey, Harris, how was your summer?”
I gave the standard reply, “Great!”
Mike greeted me with, “What’s up, Carolyn.”
Even Frank Carr nodded his head in acknowledgement, smiling at me, and I hardly even knew him. Jeremy didn’t so much as glance in my general direction.
Drew pulled me into his lap as he kissed my neck, murmuring, “You look lovely today.”
“Why thank you,” I replied, mimicking his formal manners. I needed to laugh, or to be seen and heard laughing in the very least, so that my unease wasn’t so obvious.
Samantha called from the other end, “Carolyn, they think I’m lying. Did you or did you not spend your entire summer in a white lab coat cooped up indoors?”
I took a deep breath. A lot of things had changed about me since that awful summer. Before him, I felt confident and sure of myself—not boastful, just happy with the girl I was. Since then, I made a habit of second guessing myself, questioning my decisions, wondering constantly if I measured up. Samantha seized on my weakness and I noticed now, with increasing regularity, that she gave me compliments that were really anything but complimentary and she sometimes made jokes at my expense. You know, the ones people follow up with, “I’m just messing with you.” In Samantha’s case, her digs were followed by words like, “I’m kidding. You know I love you, right?”
Erica came to my defense quickly. “Back off. Carolyn will be at an Ivy League school next year and you’ll be where, Samantha, Bumfuck Community College?”
Erica was kicking the hornet’s nest and Samantha was one nasty bitch of a hornet when she wanted to be. Before Samantha could think of some way to embarrass Erica in front of these boys, I piped up. “I didn’t spend the entire summer at Yale. I was at the lake…a lot.”
He still didn’t look up. In fact he angled his body away from everyone else and began having a side conversation with Frank. I knew he’d heard me, though.
Coward.
Will started talking about how he used to love the lake when he was younger and I was telling him about Zach and Tommy
doing cannonballs non-stop off the dock when Samantha mock shivered and said, “I wouldn’t swim in that dirt pit if you paid me a million dollars.”
“Why not?” Will asked, annoyed.
“It’s filthy and the people…” she trailed off, scrunching up her nose.
I saw Jeremy’s back stiffen. I knew he had to be offended by her comment but Samantha was so lacking in empathy that his scowl didn’t even register with her. I raised my voice just slightly. “Well, I loved it there, even though some of the people did turn out to be rude.”
Gotcha! Jeremy’s head whipped around and his eyes met mine for a split angry second before he righted himself, stood, took his tray and mumbled some parting words to the group.
Something about him brought out my inner ballsy chick. She’d been in hiding for nearly two years now—so long that I hardly even recognized her. I wanted to bait Jeremy. His blatant snubs had hurt me, and hurt that’s left to fester eventually turns to anger. And yes, now I was pissed off. Jeremy had to know I was speaking directly to him. And my message was: Go ahead, jackass, pretend you don’t know me.
All of the boys left then, heading outside to toss a ball until the bell rang. That left just me, Samantha, Erica and Kerri.
“Are you into Jeremy?” Erica questioned Samantha.
Samantha narrowed her eyes at Erica, trying to decide if she should let Erica’s insubordination from before go. She obviously decided to be a benevolent queen bee and make nice. “Well, that’s what I want Will to think, duh.” When no one commented, she added, “Let him see me with Jeremy. I want Will to know exactly what he’s missing.”
Kerri said, “You’re wasting your time on Will. He is into Tori, one hundred percent. She lives next door to my freshman buddy, Lauren Paine, and she said Will pops by there all the time.”
“What the hell does he see in her?” Samantha asked, seething.
Erica laughed as she replied, “I don’t know, maybe that she’s smart, pretty and nice?” She emphasized that last word. Erica was feisty and she liked to give it right back to Samantha. I needed some of that attitude; over the past year I’d become Samantha’s pathetic underling.
Samantha rolled her eyes. “Please, she’s like, under house arrest—she can never even go out. And I heard she has to work at the hardware store because her parents don’t have a pot to piss in. Sounds like lots of fun, you’re right,” Samantha retorted, sarcasm dripping off her every word.
“Her parent,” I corrected. God, Samantha could be such a bitch. “I feel terrible for Tori,” I went on. “I always see her with her little brothers. She’s like their mother now. And for the record, they’re not destitute. People in this town think that if you don’t get a BMW for your seventeenth birthday then you’re as good as on welfare.”
“I didn’t know her mother was dead,” Samantha said, contrite. “Now I feel bad.”
This was the Samantha of days past—my friend. It was nice to be in her presence every now and again.
Our mothers were good friends so Samantha and I were introduced while we were still in diapers. I did love Samantha like a sister at one time. We shared so many secrets, so many adventures, but something happened in seventh grade. It was like Samantha’s interests shifted to include nothing but clothes, boys and gossip. She was bewildered and annoyed when I still wanted to bake, get messy with my science experiments or play with Thomas. If it didn’t include a mani-pedi, a trip to the mall or making snarky comments at someone else’s expense, then it wasn’t worth her time.
My walk down memory lane was short-lived, as Samantha’s mood shifted from sympathetic to carefree inside of a minute. “Anyway,” she said brightly, “Will is interested, he just needs a little nudge.” She giggled before adding, “And if I wind up getting nudged by Jeremy in the meantime, that wouldn’t suck, right? He’s hot.”
“By nudged you mean fucked?” Erica asked dryly.
Kerri rolled her eyes and then shushed Erica. “You are so crude, Erica. And you,” she said, smiling, directing her attention back to Samantha, “are mean.” She was teasing, sort of. No one came out and really told Samantha the cold hard truth except for Erica.
“I do like Jeremy, though, so I am not being mean.” She waved us in closer before she whispered, giggling, “I kind of want to know if what Taylor said about him is true, you know?”
“I’ve checked him out in those football pants,” Kerri said, matter-of-fact. “The rumors are true.”
“He’s a person, not a freakin’ piece of meat,” I said, weary from this conversation.
As the bell rang, we stood and gathered our things. Samantha winked at me and said, “I think I need to uncover the facts for myself.”
Her comment turned my stomach. I was pissed at Jeremy, even though I knew I really had no right to be, but as pissed and hurt as I was, I would never wish Samantha on him.
She would hurt him.
He walked by me without so much as a nod of recognition for the next two weeks. I saw him at least three times a day, if not more. It started to sting less. But while Jeremy patently ignored me, Vanessa made it her mission to lock eyes with me whenever the opportunity arose. I even stopped going to the local ice cream parlor with Tommy because she worked there, opting for some crappy frozen yogurt place instead. Who in their right mind hired someone whose idea of a greeting was to practically growl at people? I mean, weren’t ice cream parlors supposed to be happy places? I heard she also worked some evenings answering the phone at a tattoo parlor one town over. At least I didn’t have to worry about running into her there.
What was their deal? She seemed like she had some kind of hold over Jeremy but he also seemed like he did what—or whom—he pleased. Anytime I saw Vanessa or saw the two of them together, it reminded me of that last day at the lake and it burned. I felt foolish and embarrassed all over again. You have a great boyfriend, Carolyn, I reminded myself. You will be far away from Westerly next year, far away from bitchy losers like Vanessa and far away from boys like Jeremy.
I had just exited the college counselor’s office, high off his prediction that my latest SAT scores would be good enough for Yale, when I heard my name called. When I turned, I saw a petite lady with glasses and a warm smile. “Hi,” I said, my tone questioning because I couldn’t place her.
“Oh my, it’s so wonderful to see all of you kids again. You’ve all changed so much since Driscoll.”
“Mrs. Connolly?”
“The one and only,” she replied, smiling. “Do you have a minute?” she asked, already ushering me into her office.
“Sure.”
“First, how have you been? I was talking to your guidance counselor and he said you’re aiming for Yale?”
“Yes, I mean that’s my reach school. I’m also looking into UPenn and Georgetown. Columbia also.”
“Impressive. He told me you had an interesting experience at Yale this summer.” She didn’t wait for my reply before explaining that she had known my parents for years, as she was involved in Thomas’s initial evaluation—the one that landed him in Briarwood. “I think it’s wonderful that you’ve taken an interest in that field.”
“I’d like to see where that takes me, Mrs. Connolly. I know how hard people like Thomas have it. I want to make a real difference for kids like him.”
“So would you be interested in doing some tutoring work? Helping some of your peers here at Westerly?”
“I have done that in the past but I gave it up last year. My schedule was too heavy. I had all AP courses.”
She nodded in understanding but pressed on. “It’s a paid position.” She paused, smiling. “It’s nominal, just a few hours a week at minimum wage, so I don’t want to get your hopes up. But it would also come with a glowing letter of recommendation…from a Yale alum, no less.” In response to my raised eyebrows, she pointed to herself and said, “Class of eight-four.”
Acceptance at Yale was not a sure thing for me, so this? This was like dangling a carrot in front of a sta
rved horse. “How many days a week?”
“Two days a week, ninety minute session each day. You would start this coming Tuesday. It’s helping mainly with test preparation and homework.”
“How many students?”
“Uh, just one.”
“Who is it?”
She started looking through some files on her desk before she answered absently, “Well, all of the details haven’t been worked out yet. There will be a few other tutors and then we’ll see who matches up best, based on strengths and weaknesses. Are you in, Carolyn?”
“Yes, I’m in,” I answered with a smile.
“She won’t want to work with me, Mrs. Connolly,” I said, irritated. Jeez, she would not let this go. I appreciated Mrs. Connolly’s tenacity when it benefitted me but she could be a pain in the ass otherwise.
I was so happy when I ran into her the first week of school—glad even for the budget cuts that split her position between the elementary school and the high school. Mrs. Connolly met with me and Coach in early September, devising a plan, taking me under her wing yet again. Yeah, I was happy then…but now? Not so much.
“We don’t have many options here, Jeremy. You have—” I think she was about to say something like: bombed the last few tests you’ve taken, but she caught herself. “You are struggling, even with your educational accommodations. And frankly, insisting on having Paul Wiseman as your tutor, a math whiz, when your strength is math? That’s just plain foolish, Jeremy. Carolyn Harris is akin to having a reading specialist working with you. She’s been working with her brother for years, has solid research experience under her belt… C’mon Jeremy, she can tutor you better than I can!” Then she pulled out her trump card. “Do you want to finish the football season? I hate to say it but you are on the verge of being deemed academically ineligible. That’s the cold hard fact.”
