“He’s great,” she said.
I flicked a look at her, trying to hide my surprise, then glanced away. “I think so, too.”
Mom let out a small laugh, like tiny bubbles. “I can see why he’d make a good Azor.”
Warmth and relief flushed down the back of my neck and made the hairs stand on end. Something about her even saying the name Azor.
“Here,” I said, sliding my phone out of my pocket before I could think of all the reasons not to. Kendall had emailed me about a dozen of the best fair photos from her camera. I pulled them up and handed Mom the phone, which she took hesitantly.
I couldn’t read her expression as she browsed through the images. It was like she wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry. She seemed on the verge of either, the lines on her face capable of going both ways. I didn’t know what I expected or wanted here, only that this was something I had to give at the moment. When it came to my mother, there had been so little I had to give, above and beyond what I was expected to . . . or what she took from me, depending on how I wanted to see it.
When she finally handed me back the phone—I think she must have looped through the photos at least twice—all she said was, “Looks like fun.”
“It was. Much more than I thought it would be.”
“Nobody gave you a hard time for being dressed like that?”
“We got some stares. But, you know. It was the fair. People probably thought we were part of a stage show or something.”
“It’s funny, how you’ve stayed a fan of the show. I always thought it was something you put up with because of me.”
“No. I loved it, too. Really, I did.”
Mom nodded and smiled distractedly, then looked at the Gustafsons’ window again, tilting her head to get a better look at what they were doing.
“The other kids in the pictures . . . ,” she asked.
“Eliza and Max. They go to school with Camden. And there’s a guy named James who doesn’t cosplay but he takes photos.” I almost said, Kendall is totally hot for him, but caught myself.
“They’re good kids?” She turned to me. “I trust your judgment here, Ari.”
“They are,” I said. “You can.”
I didn’t ask what her definition of “good” really was. I’d never thought about what my definition was, either.
“I remember what it was like to discover new people,” said Mom. “After growing up with the same crowd.” She paused, seemed suddenly stricken. “It’s easy to make bad decisions, when you’re distracted by what’s different and exciting.”
“I’m not making any bad decisions.” Secretly staying over at Camden’s: admittedly bad. Not having sex with him: good enough to cancel that out. Right?
“Okay,” Mom said. “But I need to mention it. Trust me when I say, I’ve been there.”
I waited for her to elaborate, but her mouth stayed closed and I could see the muscles in her jaw tightening.
“It’s clean fun, Mom,” I said. “And they’re all as mature and responsible as Camden, I swear.” I almost added They’d love to meet you, but I didn’t want them to meet her. Giving up Camden had been hard enough.
“And now with my new job, you’re losing your free afternoons to hang out with them,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.”
I wasn’t sure which was worse: the fact itself, or that she knew it and didn’t feel compelled to change it.
“Too late now,” I said.
Mom swallowed hard.
“I get nights, right?” I pressed. “I can still go out at night?”
“You still have a curfew, but yes, of course you can go out at night. I want you to. Really, not that much will change, except now you don’t have to tiptoe around the house during the day because I’m trying to sleep.”
She saw it in such simple terms. The numbers on the clock, the puzzle pieces of child-care coverage and household tasks that fit together. What she didn’t see was this:
That Danielle would get even more high maintenance. The less she saw of Mom, the more she’d teeter precariously between Normal Child and Melting Child. She’d need me more, and not in ways you could measure in hours. Yes, I would be free to go out as soon as Richard came home, but I would not be free to leave without Dani making a huge ridiculous deal out of it, crying and begging me to stay.
Another thing Mom didn’t see: how it looked from my end. That my freedom, my chances to see Camden and my new friends, not to mention spend time with Kendall before she left—that was all at the mercy of her work schedule.
I couldn’t see what it might look like from Richard’s end, but I could imagine. Mom pressing silently against his guilt about the store not being enough to provide for us. Her wrapping everything into the prospect of them being able to sleep in the same bed at the same time again, as if something that happened while they were unconscious could solve all of their problems.
“It’s going to be fine,” Mom said in response to nothing.
“If you say so.” It came out more sarcastic than I’d meant it.
She shot me a look that made me think of old books when they described someone as cross. It was a great word. I wished people used it more.
I didn’t want to leave it at that; I didn’t want her to zip up the way she often did at the first sign of discord. And I wanted to know what I wanted to know, this likely being my only chance to know it. I looked at the phone in my hand and asked, “You haven’t told me what you think about this Silver Arrow thing.”
Mom stared off at the Gustafsons again. It looked like Mr. Gustafson was working a corkscrew on a bottle of something.
“I’ll be honest. I think it’s really weird.”
“Well, of course it’s weird. That’s the point.”
She sighed. “It’s so different, being a fan of anything now.”
“It’s better . . .”
“Maybe,” she said.
What I was really asking was, Mom, do you think I make a good Satina the same way I used to ask Mom, do you think my drawing is good? Mom, look how high I climbed! Did you see I got a 100 on my spelling test?
I hated that I had to ask. I hated that the answer she would have given, regardless of what she thought, would have been the Yes she always gave. But maybe that would have been enough, because I suddenly realized that I needed her approval on Satina even more than I needed her approval on Camden.
Finally, I decided to make the most of my window. “There’s a convention next week in Connecticut called the SuperCon,” I said. “It’s a pretty big gathering of fans, anyone who’s into comics, science fiction, video games. We want to go as our cosplay group. It’ll be on a Saturday when you’re off, and it’s only a day trip.”
“Cosplay group,” Mom repeated, arching one eyebrow.
“This is where most people are in costume, so we won’t look like freaks. Plus, Eliza thinks by then that so many people will have seen the fair photos, we’ll practically be celebrities.”
Mom’s eyes swiveled to my phone, which I was still holding in one hand. “Why will so many people have seen these photos?”
Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that.
“Because they’re posted on Eliza’s page in an online community where a lot of cosplayers hang out, called AlternateArt,” I said as casually as I could. “The whole point is to take the photos and then share them.”
Her frown line deepened. “Pictures of you dressed like Satina Galt are all over the web?” She sounded so horrified, so embarrassed.
“Not all over,” I said, feeling anger form into an actual shape in my throat. “Just on this one page.”
Mom shook her head. “This sounds dangerous to me. Is your name associated with the photos?”
“No!” I felt my voice getting louder and higher. “Eliza uses an alias on her page. I’m sure she gave us aliases, too.” Then, because that anger was getting big and there was no way I was going to swallow it down now, I added, “But way to take all the awesomeness out of
it, Mom.”
She looked at me like I’d kicked her.
“I’m sorry, but it’s my job to keep you safe. Especially after everything you’ve been through. Especially now that things are going so well.”
I laughed. “Going so well? For you, maybe! Have you looked around at the rest of us?”
Mom stood up. “Ari. We’ve had such a nice day. Don’t ruin it.” The same tone she used with Danielle, but stripped of at least three more layers of softness.
I laughed again. It may have sounded a little maniacal. “You’re using that line on me now?”
She held up her hands. “I’m not continuing with this conversation. I’m done.”
“Okay,” I said, standing up, too, and climbing a step so I was taller than her. “Are we also done with our little show for Camden’s sake? We can take off all the makeup now. We can stop pretending we’re a family that actually cares about one another.”
Mom stared hard at me, scanned me head to toe in much the same way Eliza once had. It was possibly the most she’d looked at me in a long time. Then she flung open the door and disappeared inside the house, slamming it behind her. There was something profoundly satisfying about the sound of that slam. Boom.
I waited a few minutes, staring out at the street, watching the top of Mr. Gustafson’s head bob up and down. Finally, I went inside.
It was dead quiet.
I paused in the hallway to look at that fifth grade picture again. The girl in the photo looked different to me now. Camden had seen her. She stared back at me with a knowing expression, like she’d seen him back.
As I moved down the hall toward the bedrooms, I started to hear some noises. I lingered between the closed door to Dani’s room and the closed door to Mom and Richard’s room.
Behind the door to Dani’s room, I heard the sound of Richard’s voice, rising and falling in a lilt from Narnia.
Behind the other door was the sound of something high-pitched yet soft, jagged but shapeless. It was something I used to hear a lot.
My mother, crying.
I went into my room and picked up the copy of Planet Jasmine that Camden and I had left on the floor. Then I started to read.
16
Vera the dog had been found.
She and her owner stopped in to the store the next day to give us the good news and remove the flyer from the bulletin board.
“Where did she turn up?” I asked the guy after he crumpled the flyer with great ceremony.
“In the parking lot of the nature preserve,” he said. “About two miles from our house. She climbed into the bed of a truck that looks like mine, and some dude drove around for half a day before he noticed her in there.”
I crouched down to pet Vera. “She looks happy to be home.”
The dog’s ears stood up at the word and she gave me an expression like, You have no idea.
On their way out, they held the door for someone coming in, who turned out to be Camden. Followed by Max and Eliza.
“Hey,” said Camden, leaning across the counter to kiss me. I assumed it was going to be a quickie and drew away after a moment, but he reached out and pulled me back toward him for another, longer one. He tasted like grapes. When we finally managed to separate, I turned to face Eliza.
“Sweet,” she said. “You guys are sweet together.”
The proclamation felt important somehow.
“Although,” Eliza continued, a wicked smile spreading across her face, “the words people are using most often include hot, crazy sexy, OMFG, and my personal favorite, Satinazor.”
“People,” I said.
“The AlternateArt people,” said Camden. “Apparently, my Azor and your Satina are the couple of the moment. Among the geeks and freaks, that is.”
Eliza fiddled with her phone and hoisted herself onto the counter so she could lean in next to me. “See,” she said, and showed me a phone-sized view of all the comments.
“I really don’t need to read them,” I said, waving the phone away.
“You really don’t,” added Camden, giving me a meaningful look before turning to Eliza. “Who cares what other people think of the photos? We did it for fun. For ourselves.”
“Maybe you did that,” said Eliza.
“I’m not sure Eliza is capable of doing anything that’s not for the benefit of others to enjoy,” said Max, who was wandering down the greeting card aisle.
“Excuse me?” she snapped at him.
“What? You live to entertain. You know that already.”
“Why would you say it like that?”
“Like how?”
“Like a dickhead?”
“I was kidding,” said Max. “Christ. What happened to your sense of humor?”
Eliza gave him what I would classify as the most withering look I’ve ever seen, then hopped off the counter and put away her phone.
Camden motioned for me to lean in close to him. I did. His breath was warm as he whispered, “We’re here to steal you.”
“What?”
“To the lake. It’s a gorgeous day.”
I drew back. “You can’t steal me.”
“Uh, stealing doesn’t really operate that way. You don’t need the stealee’s permission. You simply do it.”
“I’m at work.”
“Can’t you ask Richard for the rest of the day off?”
“I’m not really supposed to . . .”
“He’s your stepdad, for God’s sake,” said Eliza. “He’s not going to fire you. The worst that’ll happen is that he says no.”
“My mom will kill me.” As soon as I said it, I wasn’t really sure it was true. Would she? Would she care that I wavered from the schedule, on her first day at her new job to boot? And would I care that she cared?
“Nobody will kill you, Ari,” said Camden calmly.
My eyes found his and I felt something that might have been a hunger pang, if I hadn’t just eaten breakfast.
“You are absolutely right.”
I went to the back room, where Richard was standing on the stepladder, reaching to put something on a shelf. His shirt hiked up and I could see how white the skin on his back was. Poor guy. Had he been outside in the sunlight at all this summer?
“Hi,” I said softly, worried that if I startled him, he’d fall.
“What’s up?” he asked, distracted. He hadn’t been his usual Mr. Sunny Sunshine all morning. Starting when, you know, my mom left the house at 7:00 a.m. in a supernova of jitters, snapping at each of us and cursing her way out the door.
“Camden’s here. He wants to say hello.” That was good.
“Oh, okay. I’ll be out in a bit.”
“His friends Eliza and Max are here, too. You can meet them.”
Richard nodded. I turned away and started back into the store, my courage deflating now. It really was a bad day to do this. Even if there wasn’t a single customer in the next few hours, he seemed so down and . . . lonely.
But there was Camden, leaning against the counter with his hair falling across his face, and I didn’t know which I wanted to touch more—the hair or the face. We hadn’t been truly alone since the morning after the fair, and my fingers itched for him.
There, too, was the blue sky through the store window, and the promise of cool water and the sand between my toes and basically everything else in the world.
“Actually,” I said slowly, as if this were a brainstorm coming to me now. “I’m wondering if you need me here today. They’re all going to the lake and I really want to go with them. I’d leave in time to get Dani from camp.”
Now Richard turned all the way around and sat down on the top of the ladder.
“You’re wondering if I need you here today . . . ,” he repeated.
“Well, maybe I’m a little more than wondering.”
Richard sighed. “No,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t need you here.”
“Sorry it’s so slow.”
He sighed again. “Me, too. But Ari, your moth
er . . .” He raised his eyes to me now and really looked at me, then out the door toward where all my temptations lay. Temptations he seemed jealous of. “You know something?” he said, his tone changing suddenly. “To hell with your mother. You’re seventeen and it’s summer and you have a boyfriend. Go to the goddamn lake.”
“Really?”
“Seriously.”
“I owe you one,” I said, when I really meant to say “thank you.” Because the truth was, I didn’t owe him one. I owed him zero.
“Don’t forget about Dani,” Richard said, trying to keep a stern voice, but he was already beaming. Probably because I was beaming.
I stepped out of the back room to find Camden waiting just outside. When I flashed him a thumbs-up, he threw his head back and laughed in that Peter Pan way of his. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground.
I know he put me back a second later, but I never felt it.
I had to make a quick stop at my house so I could change into my bathing suit and grab a towel. Camden came with me, and Max left with Eliza. James was picking up Kendall, I’d been informed. It was all planned out, they said.
As I drove with Camden away from the store and Main Street, into the infinity of the day, Camden put his hand on my knee. I rolled down my window and let my left hand greet the rushing air, ribboning through my spread fingers. In this way, it was almost as if he was holding me down so I didn’t fly out of the car like a balloon. Because I felt that light, that capable of being carried away.
Camden waited in the car while I ran into my house, then back out again five minutes later. When we got to the lake, the early birds had just arrived to stake out their spots. Mabel was writing the day’s ice cream offerings on her whiteboard. The place had that Heart of Summer feel, another day where all kinds of life would happen here and it seemed impossible that in six months’ time, the lake would be frozen and abandoned, the beach lost in a foot of snow.
Kendall and James were already there when we arrived. In our old spot. I looked at it and Kendall saw me look at it, then smiled at me.
“Brings back memories,” she said.
“Shhh,” I whispered as I leaned in to hug her. “Thou shalt not talk about last summer.”
What Happens Now Page 18
