The Summer I Turned Pretty Complete Series
Page 35
I glanced at the grandfather clock in the foyer. “Ten minutes ago,” I said, stepping into my pants.
“You’d better get going.”
“Thanks for ironing my clothes,” I said.
I was grabbing my keys when I heard my mom call my name from her bedroom. I turned toward her doorway, and Laurel said, “Just go to your banquet, Jere. I’ve got it covered.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“A thousand percent. Beat it.”
I sped all the way to Mara’s house. She came out as soon as I pulled into her driveway. She was wearing that red dress I liked and she looked nice, and I was about to tell her so, but then she said, “You’re late.”
I shut my mouth. Mara didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night, not even when we won Cutest Couple. She didn’t feel like going to Patan’s party afterward and neither did I. The whole time we were out, I was thinking about my mom and feeling guilty for being gone so long.
When we got to Mara’s house, she didn’t get out right away, which was her signal that she wanted to talk. I shut off the engine.
“So, what’s up? Are you still mad at me for being late, Mar?”
She looked pained. “I just want to know if we’re going to stay together. Can you just tell me what you want to do, and then we’ll do it?”
“Honestly, I can’t really think about this kind of stuff right now.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“But if I was going to have to say whether or not I think we’ll be together when we’re at school in the fall, long distance—” I hesitated, and then I just said it. “I would probably say no.”
Mara started crying, and I felt like a real piece of shit. I should’ve just lied.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. Then she kissed me on the cheek and ran out of the car and into her house.
So that’s how we broke up. If I’m going to be completely honest, I’ll admit that it was a relief not to have to think about Mara anymore. The only person I had room in my head for was my mom.
When I got home, my mom and Laurel were still up playing cards and listening to music. For the first time in days, I heard my mom laugh.
Laurel didn’t leave the next day. She stayed all week. At the time, I didn’t wonder about her job, or all the other stuff she had going on at home. I was just grateful to have an adult around.
chapter thirty-eight
The three of us walked back to the house. The sun was hot on my back and I thought about how nice it would be to lay out on the beach for a while, to sleep the afternoon away and wake up tan. But there wasn’t any time for that, not when we needed to get Conrad ready for his midterms by tomorrow.
When we got inside, Conrad fell onto the couch and Jeremiah sprawled out on the floor. “So tired,” he moaned.
What my mother did for us, for me, was a gift. Now it was my turn to give one back. “Get up,” I said.
Neither of them moved. Conrad’s eyes were closed. So I threw a pillow at Conrad and jabbed Jeremiah in the stomach with my foot. “We have to start studying, you lazy bums. Now get up!”
Conrad opened his eyes. “I’m too tired to study. I need to take a power nap first.”
“Me too,” Jeremiah said.
Crossing my arms, I glared at them and said, “I’m tired too, you know. But look at the clock; it’s already one. We’re gonna have to work all night and leave really early tomorrow morning.”
Shrugging, Conrad said, “I work best under pressure.”
“But—”
“Seriously, Belly. I can’t work like this. Just let me sleep for an hour.”
Jeremiah was already falling asleep. I sighed. I couldn’t fight the both of them. “Fine. One hour. But that’s it.”
I stalked into the kitchen and poured myself a Coke. I was tempted to take a nap too, but that would be setting the wrong example.
While they slept, I kicked the plan into gear. I got Conrad’s books out of the car, brought his laptop downstairs, and set up the kitchen like a study room. I plugged in lamps, stacked books and binders according to subject, put out pens and paper. Last, I brewed a big pot of coffee, and even though I didn’t drink coffee, I knew mine was good, because I brewed a pot for my mother every morning. Then I took Jeremiah’s car and drove to McDonald’s to pick up cheeseburgers. They loved McDonald’s cheeseburgers. They used to have cheeseburger-eating contests and they’d stack them up like pancakes. Sometimes they let me play too. One time, I won. I ate nine cheeseburgers.
I let them sleep an extra half hour—but only because it took me that long to get things set up. Then I filled up Susannah’s spray bottle, the one she’d used to water her more delicate plants. I sprayed Conrad first, right in the eyes.
“Hey,” he said, waking up right away. He wiped his face with the bottom of his T-shirt, and I gave him another spray just because.
“Rise and shine,” I sang.
Then I walked over to Jeremiah and sprayed him, too. He didn’t wake up though. He had always been impossible to wake up. He could sleep through a tidal wave. I sprayed and sprayed and when he just rolled over, I unscrewed the top of the bottle and poured the water right down the back of his T-shirt.
He finally woke up and stretched his arms out, still lying down on the floor. He gave me a slow grin, like he was used to being woken up this way. “Morning,” he said. Jeremiah might have been hard to wake up, but he was never a grouch when he finally did.
“It’s not morning. It’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon. I let you guys sleep an extra half an hour so you better be grateful,” I snapped.
“I am,” Jeremiah said, reaching his arm out for me to help him up. I grudgingly gave him my hand and helped heft him up. “Come on,” I said.
They followed me into the kitchen.
“What the—,” Conrad said, looking around the room at all his things.
Jeremiah clapped his hands together and then he held one hand up for a high five, which I gave him. “You’re amazing,” he said. Then he sniffed and spotted the greasy white McDonald’s bag and lit up. “Yes! Mickey D’s cheeseburgers! I’d know that smell anywhere.”
I smacked his hand away. “Not yet. There is a reward system in place here. Conrad studies, and then he gets food.”
Jeremiah frowned. “What about me?”
“Conrad studies, and you get food.”
Conrad raised his eyebrows at me. “A reward system, huh? What else do I get?”
I flushed. “Just the cheeseburgers.”
His eyes flickered over me appraisingly, like he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to buy a coat. I could feel my cheeks heat up as he looked at me. “As much as I like the sound of a reward system, I’m gonna pass,” he said at last.
“What are you talking about?” Jeremiah asked.
Conrad shrugged. “I study better on my own. I’ve got it covered. You guys can go.”
Jeremiah shook his head in disgust. “Just like always. You can’t handle asking for help. Well, sucks to be you, ’cause we’re staying.”
“What do you guys know about freshman psych?” Conrad said, crossing his arms.
Jeremiah sprang up. “We’ll figure it out.” He winked at me. “Bells, can we eat first? I need grease.”
I felt like I had won a prize. Like I was invincible. Reaching into the bag, I said, “One each. That’s it.”
When Conrad’s back was turned, as he was rummaging around the cupboard for Tabasco sauce, Jeremiah held his hand out for another high five. I slapped it silently and we grinned at each other. Jeremiah and I were a good team, always had been.
We ate our cheeseburgers in silence. As soon as we were done, I said, “How do you want to do this, Conrad?”
“Seeing as how I don’t want to do this at all, I’ll let you decide,” he said. He had mustard on his lower lip.
“O
kay, then.” I was prepared for this. “You’ll read. I’ll work on note cards for psych. Jeremiah will highlight.”
“Jere doesn’t know how to highlight,” Conrad scoffed.
“Hey!” Jeremiah said. Then, turning to me, he said, “He’s right. I suck at highlighting. I just end up highlighting the whole page. I’ll do note cards and you highlight, Bells.”
I ripped open a pack of index cards and handed them to Jeremiah. Incredibly enough, Conrad listened. He picked his psych textbook out of the stack of books and he started to read.
Sitting at the table, studying with his forehead creased, he looked like the old Conrad. The one who cared about things like exams and ironed shirts and being on time. The irony of all this was that Jeremiah had never been much of a student. He hated to study; he hated grades. Learning was, had always been, Conrad’s thing. From the very start, he was the one with the chemistry set, thinking up experiments for us to do as his scientist’s assistants. I remembered when he’d discovered the word “absurd,” and he went around saying it all the time. “That’s absurd,” he’d say. Or “numbskull,” his favorite insult—he said that a lot too. The summer he was ten, he tried to work his way through the Encyclopedia Britannica. When we came back the next summer, he was at Q.
I realized it suddenly. I missed him. All this time. When you got to the underneath of it, there it was. There it had always been. And even though he was sitting there only feet away, I missed him more than ever.
Underneath my lashes I watched him, and I thought, Come back. Be the you I love and remember.
chapter thirty-nine
We were done with psychology and Conrad was working on his English paper with his headphones on when my phone buzzed. It was Taylor. I wasn’t sure if she was calling to apologize or to demand I bring her stuff back home immediately. Maybe a mixture of both. I turned off my phone.
With all the house drama, I hadn’t thought about our fight once. I’d only been back at the summer house for a couple of days, and just like always, I’d already forgotten about Taylor and everything back home. What mattered to me was here. It had always been that way.
But those things she’d said, they hurt. Maybe they were true. But I didn’t know if I could forgive her for saying them.
It was getting dark out when Jeremiah leaned over and said in a low voice, “You know, if you wanted to, you could leave tonight. You could just take my car. I could pick it up tomorrow, after Conrad’s done with his exams. We could hang out or something.”
“Oh, I’m not leaving yet. I want to go with you guys tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. Don’t you want me to come with you?” It was starting to hurt my feelings, the way he was acting like they were imposing on me, as if we weren’t family.
“Yeah, course I do.” He paused like he was going to say something else.
I poked him with my highlighter. “Are you scared that you’ll get in trouble with Mara?” I was only halfway teasing. I still couldn’t believe he hadn’t told me he had a sort of girlfriend. I wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered, but it did. We were supposed to be close. Or at least we used to be. I should have known if he had a girlfriend or not. And how long had they been “broken up” anyway? She hadn’t been at the funeral, or at least I didn’t think so. It wasn’t like Jeremiah had gone around introducing her to people. What kind of girlfriend didn’t go to her boyfriend’s mom’s funeral? Even Conrad’s ex had come.
Jeremiah glanced over at Conrad and lowered his voice. “I told you, Mara and I are done.”
When I didn’t say anything, he said, “Come on, Belly. Don’t be mad.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about her,” I said, highlighting an entire paragraph. I didn’t look at him. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret.”
“There wasn’t anything to tell, I swear.”
“Ha!” I said. But I felt better. I snuck a peek at Jeremiah, and he looked back at me with anxious eyes.
“Okay?”
“Fine. It doesn’t affect me one way or the other. I just thought you would have told me a thing like that.”
He relaxed back into his seat. “We weren’t that serious, trust me. She was just a girl. It wasn’t like how it was with Conrad and—”
I started, and he broke off guiltily.
It wasn’t like how it was with Conrad and Aubrey. He’d loved her. Once upon a time, he’d been crazy about her. He had never been that way with me. Never. But I had loved him. I loved him longer and truer than I had anyone in my whole life and I would probably never love anyone that way again. Which, to be honest, was almost a relief.
chapter forty
JULY 6
When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I did was go to my window. Who knew how many more times I would see this view? We were all growing up. I would be at college soon. But the good thing, the comforting thing, was the knowing that it would still be here. The house wasn’t going away.
Looking out the window, it was impossible to see where the sky ended and the ocean began. I’d forgotten how foggy the mornings could get here. I stood there and tried to get my fill, tried to make the memory last.
Then I ran over to Jeremiah’s and Conrad’s rooms, banging on doors. “Wake up! Let’s get this show on the road!” I yelled, starting down the hall.
I headed downstairs to get a glass of juice, and Conrad was sitting at the kitchen table, where he’d been when I went to sleep around four a.m. He was already dressed and making notes in a notebook.
I started to back out of the kitchen, but he looked up. “Nice pjs,” he said.
I flushed. I was still wearing Taylor’s stupid pajamas. Scowling, I said, “We’re leaving in twenty minutes, so be ready.”
As I headed back upstairs, I heard Conrad say, “I already am.”
If he said he was ready, he was ready. He would pass those exams. He’d probably ace them. Conrad didn’t fail at anything he set his mind to.
An hour later, we were almost on our way. I was locking the glass sliding door on the porch when I heard Conrad say, “Should we?”
I turned around, started to say, “Should we what?” when Jeremiah came out of nowhere.
“Yeah. For old times’ sake,” Jeremiah said.
Uh-oh. “No way,” I said. “No freaking way.”
The next thing I knew, Jeremiah was grabbing my legs and Conrad took my arms, and together they swung me back, then forth. Jeremiah yelled, “Belly Flop!” and they flung me through the air, and as I landed in the pool, I thought, Well, there, they’re finally united on something.
When I surfaced, I yelled, “Jerks!” It only made them laugh harder.
I had to go back inside and change out of my soaked clothes, the clothes I wore the first day. I changed into Taylor’s sundress and her platform sandals. As I wrung out my hair with a hand towel, it was hard to be mad. I even smiled to myself. Possibly the last Belly Flop of my life, and Steven wasn’t there to partake.
It was Jeremiah’s idea to take one car, so Conrad could keep studying on the way. Conrad didn’t even try to take the front seat, he just went straight to the back and started flipping through his note cards.
Predictably, I cried as we drove away. I was just glad I was up front and wearing sunglasses so the boys couldn’t tease me about it. But I loved that house, and I hated to say good-bye. Because, it was more than just a house. It was every summer, every boat ride, every sunset. It was Susannah.
We drove in near silence for a while, and then Britney Spears came on the radio, and I turned it up, loud. It went without saying that Conrad hated Britney Spears, but I didn’t care. I started to sing along, and Jeremiah did too.
“Oh baby baby, I shouldn’t have let you go,” I sang, shimmying toward the dashboard.
“Show me how you want it to be,” Jeremiah sang back, bouncing his shoulders.
He sang to me, “And tell me how they got that pretty little face on that pretty little frame, girl.” I put my hand on my heart and fake-swooned for him, like a groupie.
“Fast fast slow, whichever way you wanna run, girl.”
I backed him up at the chorus. “This just can’t be summer love …”
From the backseat, Conrad growled, “Can you guys please turn the music down? I’m trying to study here, remember?”
I turned around and said, “Oh, sorry. Is it bothering you?”
He looked at me with narrowed eyes.
Without saying a word, Jeremiah turned the music down. We drove for another hour or so and then he said, “Do you need to pee or anything? I’m gonna stop at the next exit for gas.”
I shook my head. “No, but I am thirsty.”
We pulled into the gas station parking lot, and while Jeremiah filled the car up and Conrad napped, I ran into the convenience store. I got Jeremiah and me both Slurpees, half Coke and half cherry, a combination I had perfected over the years.
When I got back to the car, I climbed in and handed Jeremiah his Slurpee. His whole face lit up. “Aw, thanks, Bells. What flavor did you get me?”
“Drink it and see.”
He took a long sip and nodded appreciatively. “Half Coke, half cherry, your specialty. Nice.”
“Hey, remember that time—,” I started to say.
“Yup,” he said. “My dad still doesn’t want anyone touching his blender.”
I put my feet up on the dashboard and leaned back, sipping on my Slurpee. I thought to myself, Happiness is a Slurpee and a hot pink straw.
From the back, Conrad said, irritably, “Where’s mine?”
“I thought you were still asleep,” I said. “And you have to drink a Slurpee right away or it’ll melt, so … I didn’t see the point.”