The Summer of Impossibilities

by Rachael Allen

  Passes the bullhorn to Aunt Seema.

  “WE ARE GOING TO KEEP TALKING UNTIL YOU COME DOWN HERE, JAMEELAH ROSE JOHNSON AND SKYLER KAPLAN-GABLE, SO I SUGGEST YOU HURRY.”

  I run back inside. Scurry past Bennett. “Gotta go. Sorry!”

  “ADELINE, DON’T YOU HAVE A JOURNEY CD ON THIS BOAT SOMEWHERE?”

  I run faster.

  Ellie is right in front of me, scrambling down the stairs to the dock.

  “What in the world is happening right now?” she asks breathlessly.

  “They’ve come for us.”

  Because she’s half turned around, she almost barrels over a lanky boy with slicked-back hair the color of red lipstick. He starts to say something to her, but we’re kind of busy, so she doesn’t notice.

  We tear down the dock, waving our arms.

  “Stop! Holy crap. Please, stop!”

  Aunt Seema clicks the bullhorn off and holds it at her side.

  “Follow us home,” says Mama. “We’ll talk about this there.”

  I knew the lecturing would get really bad after they separated us. Not that it wasn’t bad before they separated us. But now that my mama has me alone in her bedroom, she breaks down crying.

  “How could you do this to me?” She flings the words from where she’s lying on the bed, broken.

  “Mama, I know it was wrong to take the boat without asking, but we didn’t even do anything bad. It was a nerd party with games and stuff. I didn’t even drink anything.”

  “It’s not about that.” Again with the flinging of the words. She’s just so wounded and I don’t get it.

  “What’s it about, then?”

  “You lied to me.”

  I wait and let the words sink in. Scarlett’s been caught lying about a million times. About things that are actually a big deal. I don’t understand—

  “I just found out the person I built my entire life with has been lying to me,” she says, like it costs her dearly to explain it. “I can’t handle anyone else I love being dishonest with me right now. Especially not someone I trusted as much as you.”

  Oh. Oh, I get it now, and it hurts, this newfound understanding.

  I feel guilty and awful and a little bit sick.

  And the worst part? This isn’t the most important thing I’m lying to her about. Not by a long shot.

  Scarlett

  Reese picks me up at the front door of Kayleigh’s house. It’s just across the lake from mine. He’s holding a bouquet of pink and yellow roses that almost cover his face, but between the flowers I can see his smile is a little shy. It would be sweet—is sweet—but all I can think about is Daddy maybe showing up with roses and Mama maybe acting like it makes a damn bit of difference.

  “Hey, beautiful. I brought you something.” He passes me the bouquet and kisses me on the cheek.

  “It was so sweet of you to bring me flowers.” I bury my face in the roses and sniff till I’m dizzy in hopes that it’ll help me forget. “I love them.”

  He takes me to Los Lobos, which is normally my favorite lake restaurant. Reese devours his blackened shrimp tacos. I pick at my enchiladas.

  “Is your food okay?” asks Reese.

  “Yeah, it’s great. I just ate a gigantic lunch,” I lie. Should I really feel this nervous?

  He strokes one of my legs under the table. “You look so hot tonight. It’s been killing me watching you, knowing we get to be alone all night.”

  I laugh nervously.

  “Are we—? I mean, are we definitely—?”

  He can’t finish the sentence, and despite what I texted him, I’m unsure. “Maybe.”

  I smile—coyly, I hope. Reese shifts around his chair like he is physically incapable of holding still.

  I’m feeling less bold by the time we leave the restaurant. Every time I start to calm down, Reese does something like touch my hand or stare at my legs and another adrenaline rush shoots up through me like a solar flare. Should I really feel this nervous if this is the right thing to do? There’s this part of me that always wants to hold something back from him, but I tell myself my hesitation is all me. Sex is normal. It’s something happy, normal people do.

  Before I know it, he’s pulling into Kayleigh’s driveway, and we’re getting out of the car, and I have no idea what happened to the last twenty minutes. Reese, on the other hand, seems more excited with each passing second.

  And then we’re walking down the hallway to Kayleigh’s guest bedroom, and he’s shutting the door behind us.

  “Um, so this is Kayleigh’s guest room. My house is just—”

  He kisses me mid-sentence. “I love you,” he says. “You’re the best girl ever, you know that?” He pulls me into his arms. “I can’t believe this is really happening.” He groans. “You’re so hot. That dress.”

  He takes a step back so he can see me better, his eyes undressing me before his hands do. He pulls off my dress, and when he sees the pink lace bra underneath, he groans again. And then it’s almost like he’s waking up from a dream.

  “Hold on a sec.” He rushes over to where I set the roses on the dresser, pulling the petals from two of them and scattering them over the bed. “There. What do you think?”

  “Um.” I know he’s speaking English, but my brain feels so sluggish. “Yeah, it’s great.”

  He smiles. “I know you want tonight to be special. And it will be.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. I wonder if he can hear how fast my heart is beating.

  He kisses me, his lips warm and soft against mine. I’m already jittery, and the kiss makes my head spin.

  Through the window, I can see lights winking at us across the lake. I think of my parents, and my hands automatically clench into fists. I pull Reese tightly against me. And then everything starts to happen so fast. Our clothes are coming off, and we’re on the bed, and I can barely concentrate on what’s happening with all the nervousness and excitement. I try to focus on Reese’s body, which isn’t hard because he’s really freaking hot and I’m really freaking attracted to him. If I can pretend like all we’re going to do is fool around, I can enjoy myself.

  I want this, I tell myself. I want to stop being the damaged girl everyone worries over and be the kind of girl who has sex with her boyfriend and has everything turn out perfect and wonderful. If we do this, things will feel right. For one night, I just want to feel like Carter or one of the other shiny girls at school.

  But we’re in a car without brakes, hurtling toward an unknown destination. And when we finally reach it, everything comes to a screeching halt.

  It hurts a little, but I was expecting that. I wasn’t expecting everything else. I feel too much emotion. Everything is entirely too much. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way, but always overwhelming. By the time it’s over, there are tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “Scarlett, what’s the matter?”

  “I’m fine,” I rush to say. “Sex is just a really emotional thing, you know?”

  I feel like if I tell him everything—that I’m worried this doesn’t actually change anything about me or us and I’m scared I did this for the wrong reasons but also there were parts of it I kind of liked and that made me feel powerful or something—he won’t understand.

  “Of course it is.” He’s saying it in this soothing voice, but I saw that flash of a look on his face. He gently wipes my tears with his thumb. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” I say, a fresh bunch of tears building.

  “I’m gonna take care of you. I’ve got this.”

  Reese calms me down. Strokes my hair and whispers how much he loves me. Time passes, I don’t know how much, and he falls asleep, and it’s safe to start crying all over again. How can he look so calm when I think I might explode?

  In the morning, Reese and I kiss goodbye. I think we are different people now. No, we’ve always been different, but now I see it, because otherwise why would he be able to smile like a Cheshire cat when I feel like everything inside me
is broken. I wanted this. A part of me definitely did. But it didn’t make me feel the way I thought it would, and I’m mad at myself for thinking any different. I’m still me. I’m just a me who’s had sex.

  I do not stay for breakfast. I drive to the lake alone.

  My dad’s car isn’t out front, so I figure it’s safe to go inside. I climb the steps to my mom’s bedroom. She’s sitting up in bed, reading a book, and she looks really actually happy. Dad’s side of the bed is still made up, show pillows and everything.

  Mama sees me. “Hey, sweetie.” Her smile falters. “Are you okay?”

  It was supposed to make things right.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you before,” I whisper.

  That’s all I have to say to make the tears start falling again.

  She waves me over, a tiny gesture that completely undoes me. And I crawl into the bed with her and snuggle underneath her arm like I’m eight years old again and I sob like she can make it all better.

  Skyler

  There is broken glass inside of my knuckles. That is the only possible explanation. Because the pain wakes me up, and my hands are gnarled like claws, and I can’t do anything, can’t get out of bed even. I am lying here, and I am crying, and I am thinking that I am so lucky that I have a sister who is going to bring me handwarmer pads any minute now.

  And then I realize. Scarlett isn’t here. She’s on a secret anniversary date with her boyfriend. A second, far worse, realization: The handwarmers aren’t coming.

  I think about giving up. The pain is like a pulling and a twisting and a metal rod prying my hands apart at the joints.

  I try to pull down my blanket.

  I wonder if it would be better to be dead.

  “Oh please, oh please, oh please.” Hot tears down my face. A voice that isn’t my own.

  What if I don’t survive this? I feel like this could really possibly be the end of me.

  “Sky, are you okay?”

  A sheet of brown hair sweeps through my peripheral vision. Ellie. Oh, thank goodness.

  “Can you get me my heating pads?” I say through clenched teeth. “They’re in my duffel bag. No. The other zipper. The front one.”

  Ellie digs around until she finds them. Every word costs me.

  “What now?” she says. Calmly, but I can tell she’s freaking out.

  “Microwave for two minutes.”

  She runs, doesn’t walk. I hear the microwave whirring. Help is coming. Just hold on.

  It beeps, and she’s back in an instant.

  “Put them on my hands. Please,” I add.

  The heat is instantaneous. The relief takes time. I try not to hiss or whimper. This is already so embarrassing. I can’t stop the tears though. It’s like they’re leaking out of me, 100 percent out of my control.

  After about half an hour, it occurs to me that Ellie is sitting in bed with me stroking my hair. I finally feel good enough to sit up.

  “How are you feeling?” she asks.

  “Better,” I say, even though the pain is definitely still a six at least. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “Of course,” she says. “What’s, um, the matter? If it’s okay to ask,” she rushes to add.

  And she’s looking at me so intently, like nothing in her world matters more than this. I feel like we’ve reached the point where I can tell her, even before she had to help me, I mean. “I have juvenile arthritis,” I say. “Scarlett usually puts heating pads on my hands before I even wake up in the morning.”

  Something clicks behind Ellie’s eyes. “But Scarlett’s not here.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Gosh, I never even noticed her doing that.”

  “I think she was tucking them under the covers. I can’t believe you saw it when it was that bad. It’s so embarrassing.”

  “No.” Ellie says it with a firmness that both startles and comforts me. “It’s not embarrassing at all. It’s totally okay, and I’m happy to do it anytime.”

  And I’m grateful for her, I really am, but I can’t live like this. I’m telling my mama today.

  Ellie

  I think I’m finally understanding what this friendship stuff is all about.

  Skyler

  I head to the main house, strong, resolute. Mama is in the kitchen, crying to my aunt Val. But she’s always crying. I’ve been waiting and waiting, and there is never a good time. I might as well walk through the door and tell her anyway.

  “I feel like I’m drowning. With my marriage and worrying about the girls and Scarlett’s issues and Skyler’s arthritis.”

  I stop outside the doorway where she can’t see.

  “Jimmy was a good partner in a lot of ways. Well, before. But watching her suffer after that game was one of the worst days of my life and one of the lowest points in our marriage. He can’t handle the hard stuff. And it makes me wonder if he’s really the right person for me if he could handle something so important so badly.”

  Aunt Val is saying something back, but I’m already on my way out of the house. So, that’s it then. Telling her is not an option. It could very well be the thing that keeps my parents from getting back together. I can’t go the rest of my life with that kind of guilt hanging over me. I already have enough.

  But based on how bad the pain was this morning, there is one thing I am certain of: I am going to the doctor. This week. Tomorrow. And I’ll do it my own damn self if I have to.

  I look all over the lake house until I find Ellie.

  “I need your help with something,” I tell her.

  Amelia Grace

  I’m only half listening as Ellie calls our meeting to order because my phone vibrates with an email from Zoe. She’s having fun at camp, and how are things going here?

  “What are you looking at?” Scarlett bumps me with her elbow, and I hide my phone screen, quick. I don’t know why I don’t want her to see Zoe’s email.

  “I’ll go first!” says Ellie. “Sky helped me with the post on Instagram of me smashing a scale, and I’m feeling deeply proud of myself.”

  She snatches an olive out of the bowl on the table and tosses it into her mouth. We huddle around her phone. “I’m tired of letting my worth be defined by a number,” Ellie reads. “A scale is just a thing. It shouldn’t have that much power over my life. A couple years ago I decided I wasn’t going to weigh myself anymore. It hasn’t been easy. But today I’m slaying my dragons.”

  I have chill bumps, and I squeeze her shoulder, and she and Sky tell us all about how they made the post. Scarlett tells Ellie she thinks the post was “really brave” and Ellie blushes to the roots of her hair. Then she catches my eye from across the circle. “How about you?”

  “Things didn’t go very well with my youth minister,” I say quietly. “I think I need to do some research and Bible reading and soul searching before I try talking to anyone else.” I haven’t even touched my Bible since we got here.

  Skyler’s face lights up. “Oh! You can come to church with me on Wednesday if you want!”

  “Um, I’m okay. Thanks.”

  I may be ready to read my Bible, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to face people like Mrs. Bellcamp.

  Her face crumples. “Why not?”

  “Skyler,” hisses Scarlett. “Why are you being like this?”

  “Things aren’t great with me and church right now,” I say. “Because of how people responded when I came out. I heard back from my youth minister, and it seems like the only way they’ll let me back is if I don’t like girls.”

  Ellie scoots closer, holding my hand.

  “Bullshit,” says Scarlett. “You’re not actually thinking about it, are you?”

  “No. But, like. I feel so unwelcome there, and that’s why I need to think about things more before I try going to another church.”

  I can see it click in Skyler’s mind, and her eyes open wide. “I’m so sorry. Your mom said you loved church and were really going to miss it while you were here and that I should invite yo
u, and I was only trying to help. I’m really sorry. I promise I would never try to push my religion on people.”

  She means it. I can tell.

  “It’s okay,” I say.

  “Also, I thought you were Jewish,” says Ellie.

  “I am. I go to youth group stuff and High Holidays at my synagogue, and sometimes I go to church. Plus, I have Lake Church and Home Church. So, like, there’s four of them.”

  “And you . . .?” Ellie says to Scarlett.

  She shakes her head. “I’m agnostic. Sky goes to enough church for the both of us.”

  “That’s really nice that your family is cool with you being different that way,” says Ellie. “I go to our masjid—mosque—at home, but I’m not sure if there are any around here.”

  “Oh, if you end up finding one, I’ll go with you,” says Skyler.

  Scarlett touches Ellie’s shoulder. “Don’t let her steal your religion. She collects them.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just because I’m interested—”

  “Pretty sure it’s cultural appropriation.”

  “Wait. Is it? I’m really sorry.”

  Scarlett snorts. “I swear half the reason you dated Jonah is because he’s Buddhist.”

  “Buddhism is awesome! Someday I might raise my kids Buddhist!”

  “You are only proving my point.” Scarlett crosses her arms. “Also, what did you need help with?”

  “Huh?”

  “The whole reason I’m here is because you and Ellie have some sort of secret plan afoot, and I’m nosy as hell. Spill.”

  I force myself to pay attention because these are my friends and this stuff is important to them, but what I’m thinking is that Scarlett hasn’t gone yet. She’s going to talk about her big date. I can’t decide what’s worse: hearing about it or wondering about it.

  “Oh,” says Skyler. “I need you to call my doctor and pretend to be Mama.”

  Scarlett almost spits her wine across the room. “What?”

  “I need to see Dr. Levy, and every time I try to ask Mama, she’s so stressed out, so I figured I could just go myself. It’s no big deal.”