The Summer of Impossibilities

by Rachael Allen

  “Pro-ana?”

  “Pro-anorexia.” I note the flash of surprise in Skyler’s eyes. Will she still like me after I tell her this? “Not that I was ever anorexic. I wasn’t. I don’t think. I just felt like I was going down that path, you know? So, a couple years ago I said I’m not allowed to count the calories in my food anymore or track everything I eat in a spreadsheet or even weigh myself. And I unfollowed anyone who talked about stuff like that too. I only let myself look at the stuff that focuses on fitness in a positive way now.”

  “Wow, that’s really amazing that you did that.”

  “Thank you.” I duck my head the way she would. I don’t know why I feel so shy about being praised for this. I really am proud of myself. It wasn’t an easy thing. “So, I guess now what I want to do is put stuff out there that helps people who are going through the same stuff that I went through. I mostly post stuff about how to eat healthy and get better at tennis—and I definitely do it in a positive way and not a shaming way,” I rush to add. “But I still feel like it’s not totally honest. It doesn’t show how hard it was to go from the girl who weighs herself five times a day to the girl who’s trying to look at food in terms of what makes her feel the best for playing tennis.”

  “Well, maybe that’s what you say on social media.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think you should tell everyone what you just told me. And we could take a series of pictures to go with it. Like, maybe you smashing a scale with a sledgehammer and you playing tennis and stuff like that. I feel like just being honest can be really powerful. Sometimes I get so caught up in trying to pretend everything is perfect. I feel like it would resonate with a lot of people.”

  I smile. “That would be really cool.”

  We sit there for a couple minutes, and then Skyler looks at me slyly. “Can I show you something?” she asks.

  She passes me a blue sheet of paper, and I read it. I have but one response:

  “We have to steal a boat.”

  “WHAT?” Skyler looks confused. Or scandalized. Probably some of both.

  I sigh, like, This is totally and completely simple, how do you not get it?

  “To see your boy tonight? You are obviously giving him another chance after that letter.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to give him another chance.” She tries to make her face hard. It’s kind of cute.

  “Uh-huh, remind me what his name is again?”

  Sky pauses. “Bennett.”

  And there it is. The tiny smile that steals over her face. She can’t even say it without looking totally smitten.

  “Yep. That settles it. Definitely stealing a boat. How far away is this Horseshoe Island?”

  “Far,” says Sky. “We can’t just paddle over in the paddleboat. We’d have to take the pontoon boat.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, we can’t just take a pontoon boat! They are not exactly quiet.”

  I point at the dock. “What about that other boat? It looks like a James Bond boat.”

  She shakes her head. “Speedboats are definitely not quiet.”

  “Okaaay.” This was an unexpected hurdle but not unsolvable. “So, we wait. The moms will go to bed eventually and then we’ll take a boat.”

  “I don’t know,” says Sky.

  But I do. Tonight is going to be brilliant.

  I’m at least half right. The aunts do go to bed. Well, three of them do. Skyler’s mom still isn’t back from her date with Skyler’s dad yet.

  “Do you think your mom’s going to shack at your dad’s Airbnb tonight?”

  “Ew.” Skyler makes a face.

  “I’m just asking! So I can figure out our plans. Based on the amount of cleavage she was showing, I think we can assume yes.”

  It takes some (read: A LOT) of prodding, but eventually we’re on the pontoon boat and ready to begin our life of crime. Scarlett is on some clandestine date, and Amelia Grace is wiped from building stuff for Heidi and Val, so it’s just me and Sky tonight.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it. I don’t have to check Discord to know what’s happening to me on there right now. And you know what? I don’t care. I have a real, live friend right in front of me, and I am going to prove what a great friend I am by helping her steal this boat right now so she can meet up with Bennett and fulfill her destiny.

  Skyler

  I guide the boat in carefully so I don’t bump any of the dozen other boats that are tied off outside the party house. It hurts, but I manage.

  “Are you feeling okay?” asks Ellie.

  “What? Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply automatically.

  “Okay. Just checking.” She gives me the kindest smile.

  I feel warm all over. It occurs to me that “Are you okay?” is a thing people always ask my sister. It feels good to have the focus on me for a second.

  There’s no room to tie off at the dock, so we have to tie off to another boat, which means blocking that boat in, but there are a lot of boats blocked in tonight. I can always move it later.

  This lake house is huge—four stories and four porches, each filled with people with cups in their hands. We’ll see just how different this party is.

  The instant we walk in, Bennett spots me and stops what he’s doing. It makes me feel important.

  “Skyler!” he calls across the room, tripping over an ottoman to get to me. Trouble standing already? “Hey!” he says, with a goofy grin. “I’m so glad you’re here. We were just about to play Don’t Blink.”

  “Is that a drinking game?” It’s not that I’m anti-drinking or something. We totally drink wine at Seder and when we do Shabbat dinner and stuff, and sometimes I even drink at parties, but I really didn’t like the Bennett I met at the sandbar party. I just know I’m not meant to date a frat-star douchebag in training, you know?

  “What? No. It’s like Werewolf.”

  Ellie and I stare at him blankly.

  “Oh. Um, Mafia? Assassin? Cops and Revolutionaries?”

  Still nothing.

  “Capture the flag. Have you heard of that one?”

  “Ohhhh,” we say in unison.

  He looks relieved. “Yeah, it’s just like a really fun group game for parties and stuff.”

  I look around this “party” in a new light. No keg. No ice luge. A couple of guys doing a dramatic reenactment that involves repurposing throw blankets as capes. A girl sitting cross-legged on the floor reading a book. There’s a guy in the corner drinking from a wineglass, but he is definitely wearing a beret.

  My eyes light up. “Ohmygosh, this is a nerd party.”

  Oops, I just said that out loud.

  Ellie choke-coughs. “I’m just gonna go get something to drink,” she says, leaving us alone.

  (Sometimes it’s hard to watch people crash and burn that spectacularly.)

  “I think you just called me a nerd.” Bennett smiles, and I try to remember to think straight.

  “Oh, I definitely did. You are a nerd, and this is a nerd party.” I look around the room again, bouncing in place a little, because I’m so pleased.

  He cocks his head to the side. “And that’s . . . a good thing.”

  I grin. “Definitely a good thing.”

  If he says he reads fantasy, that’s it. It’s over. I am kissing him and I am never coming up for air.

  We’re only talking for about a minute when Ellie comes at me with wide eyes and a hand cupped over her phone.

  “Your mom is home, and Momma put her on the phone because you’re not answering yours, and she wants to talk to you.”

  Not where I saw this evening going.

  I put the phone up to my ear. “Hey, Mama.”

  “Where in the damn hell are you?”

  I pull the phone back from my ear a bit. “Ellie and I just took the boat out for a moonlight cruise. Did you have a good date with Daddy?”

  “That is not what we’re talking about right now. I can’t believe you took the boat withou
t asking. We were worried sick. You better get your ass back home in the next ten minutes or I’ll—Wait, have you been drinking? Don’t come if you’ve been drinking. I can pick you up. Well, I can’t, but your aunt Seema can.”

  I roll my eyes. So it was a good date. I know I should be as panicked as Ellie right now, and a part of me is, but honestly, we’re not doing anything really bad right now (other than grand theft pontoon boat), and I’m kind of used to Mama being lax about curfews and stuff for me since I’m the good one. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask first, but, well, the truth is I really wanted to go to this party. There’s no drinking. We’re about to play a capture-the-flag kind of game. Is it okay if I stay? It sounds kind of fun.”

  Bennett smirks at me, and I roll my eyes.

  “Um, no. No, you cannot stay. People who sneak out of the house like cat burglars do not get to stay at parties.”

  “Oh. Um, okay.”

  Bennett’s face falls, and I realize this is the least stressed-out I’ve felt since I found out about Daddy. I need this.

  “You know what? There’s, um, a really big boat blocking us in. Two big boats. And, uh, I don’t think we’ll be able to leave for a good while.”

  Ellie’s eyes go, if possible, even wider. I hold my breath. Wait for what’s next.

  “Skyler?” Mama says icily.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “You get home as soon as you can.”

  Ellie leaps into the air. “HOLY TACTICAL NEGOTIATION SKILLS! Wait. Did you definitely hang up the phone?”

  I nod.

  “HOLY TACTICAL NEGOTIATION SKILLS! That was the best thing I’ve ever seen. You are a golden goddess of covert ops, do you know that? You should be a spy. Or a fashion buyer.”

  “Thank you.” I hand back her phone and do a little curtsy.

  “All right, it’s time to play some Don’t Blink!” yells Bennett.

  People start to gather. Apparently, that’s a thing that happens when Bennett yells.

  “Okay, so! There’s Runners and there’s Statues. The Runners start in the kitchen, the Statues go hide. If your room is dark, you can tag a Runner and freeze them. But if a Runner turns on the light, the Statues freeze until they’re alone again. Statues stay frozen if The Doctor tags you with his glowstick.”

  “Hey, now!” yells somebody in back.

  Bennett explains the rest of the rules, and then he explains them two more times because there are so many questions.

  “It’s really easy once you get the hang of it, I promise. Okay, if I tap your shoulder, you’re a Runner. Everyone else is a Statue. Except Nate.” He hands the boy from the kitchen a glowstick. “You’re The Doctor.”

  “Allons-y!” yells Nate.

  Bennett taps Ellie’s shoulder and then mine.

  A pretty girl and the boy with the beret run up the stairs panting. “We turned off. All the lights.”

  “Excellent.” Bennett waits for the Runners, including Ellie and me, to get to the kitchen. Then he flips off the living room lights. “Let the games begin!”

  Ellie leans into me. “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “Nope.” She grabs my arm. “Don’t leave me.”

  At first, I just think she’s being funny, but it’s actually pretty scary walking around a house in the dark. The living room lights get flipped pretty quickly, but it’s empty. The Runners split up from there. Upstairs, back deck, bedrooms. Ellie and I follow a guy and a girl down the stairs to another living room (honestly, how many of those do you need?).

  “Split up and find the lights,” the girl whispers.

  Ellie and I veer left along the wall, feeling our way in the darkness. I feel like I can hear someone breathing, so I creep faster. Who puts light switches so far away from the—?

  “Ahhhhh!!!!!” Ellie screams next to me, and my fingers find a light switch, and I am never going to be able to sleep again.

  The room floods with light. There’s a boy standing next to her, his hand comically frozen on her shoulder.

  “Are you a Statue?” she asks.

  He nods and removes his hand, but other than that, remains frozen. There’s another Statue in the corner, near the curtains.

  “Troy, we need you!” calls a voice from upstairs. The Runner Boy (Troy, apparently) bounds back up the stairs two at a time.

  “I’ll stay here so they can’t turn off the lights,” the girl calls after him.

  She gestures at Statue Boys 1 and 2. Right. And Ellie is stuck here too, which means I get to go down to the bottom floor. Alone. In the dark. What kind of sadistic horror movie fanatic thought of this game?

  I make my way over to the last set of stairs. They creak, because of course they do.

  The bottom floor is darkest of all. I can make out a pool table and some easy chairs and, oh, holy shit, those are footsteps and they are coming my way. I run toward the other wall, because I clearly picked the wrong side, and my heart is pounding out of my chest, and I flip the switch just in time. A girl with curly brown hair skids to a stop in front of me.

  Whew.

  She’s the only one down here, but I guess I should check the bedrooms too. I go to the back of the den and open the first door. Oh, it’s not a bedroom, it’s just the laundry room. And it’s empty. I step inside so I can pull the light cord just in case when two hands grab me from behind.

  “Fudgesicle Ripple!”

  The person behind me laughs. “Did you just say ‘Fudgesicle Ripple’?”

  Bennett. My pulse races for reasons that have nothing to do with being scared.

  “What? No. I’m pretty sure you’re hearing things.”

  “Shhh,” he whispers. “You’ll give away my hiding spot.”

  “Yeah, well, you deserve it,” I whisper back. Turns out whispering can feel incredibly sexy.

  I take a step closer and poke him in the chest. “This game feels like being in a horror movie.”

  “Now that you mention it, I have a confession to make. Do you want to know what I am?” His eyes twinkle mischievously.

  “Oh, for sure.”

  “Say it. Out loud.”

  Wait. Is he . . .?

  “Say it!”

  Oh em gee, he totally is.

  I match his seriousness. “Vampire.”

  “Are you afraid?” He makes a brooding face that is the exact right mix of wannabe-sexy and constipated.

  “Only of how much I hate glitter.”

  He bursts out laughing. “Oh, man, I was doing such a good job of keeping a straight face.”

  He looks suddenly serious. Real serious. Not the pretend-vampire kind.

  “I’m really glad you came. I, uh, didn’t think you would.”

  I smile at him, then stop. “Hey, what was going on yesterday at the sandbar party? It’s not that I’m against drinking, but like—”

  “I’m really sorry about that.” He picks at his fingernails. “I, uh, got off the wait list and into art school that night.”

  “Are you serious? That’s amazing.”

  “Thanks.” His smile should really look happier. “It would be, except that my dad told me he’s not going to pay for it, and then I told him I was going anyway, and it got . . . bad. I guess I just needed to blow off some steam, but apparently the ice luge is not my friend.”

  “Oh, Bennett, I’m really sorry.”

  “Me too.” He tries to shake it off. “But, it’s fine. I’m still going to go, and it’s still going to be great. But, yeah. He’s pretty unsupportive. That’s why I was out on the lake the day we met, so at least something good came out of it. I’m mostly sorry about what happened at the party though. With you.”

  There’s a pause. Not awkward, but not exactly comfortable either. There’s too much electricity in the air for that.

  He shifts his weight to his other foot, and when he does, his shoulder bumps the door slightly and it closes an inch. We both stare at it for longer than is normal or wise, wishing it would j
ust swing shut all the way.

  “Well, I’m glad I’m getting to know the real you,” I say.

  “Wait, how do you know Sandbar Me isn’t the real me?”

  I cross my arms. “I much prefer the vampire version.”

  And then I do it. I slide my foot over so the door shuts a little more.

  His eyes go wide, but he tries to play it off. “You do, huh?”

  “Mmm-hmmm.”

  His chest is rising and falling so quickly, and I see a muscle tighten in his jaw, and then his shoulder bumps the door again. This time, on purpose.

  I feel like I’m not me right now. I’m an entirely different girl who is powerful. And sexy. And brave.

  A girl who deserves an escape. I smile at Bennett as I put my entire palm to the door. And then I push it closed.

  The laundry room goes entirely dark, but Bennett has no trouble finding me. His hands push me and my hands pull him against the door (the door that is STAYING EFFING CLOSED), and his lips are on my neck and my collarbone, kissing fire all over my skin. And I grab his face and pull it to mine, and oh. I didn’t know kissing could be like this. Feeling full and like you’ll never get enough at exactly the same time. And our clothes are on, and I’m thinking how much fun it would be if they were off, but also, this kissing. I think it could sustain me for the rest of my days, and maybe our clothes could just stay on as long as our lips never have to—

  “SKYLER KAPLAN-GABLE AND ELLIE JOHNSON.”

  Is that . . . my mom?

  I pull away from Bennett. He looks every bit as confused as I do.

  “Hold on,” I say.

  I rush toward the back deck.

  What is happening right now?

  I hear it again, like the voice of God, except this time it’s Aunt Seema.

  “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE. COME OUT NOW.”

  I throw open the door. My mom stands next to Ellie’s mom on the back of the speedboat. And they have a bullhorn. This is mortification at its most extreme.

  Aunt Seema hands the bullhorn back to Mama.

  “WE’RE HERE TO COLLECT YOU SINCE YOU’RE BLOCKED IN. OH, LOOK, THE BOAT ISN’T BLOCKED IN ANYMORE.” She pauses dramatically. “GUESS YOU CAN DRIVE HOME NOW.”