When My Sister Started Kissing

by Helen Frost

Claire

  Abi knows I saw her. I manage not to laugh

  by biting my cheeks and kind of blinking.

  She’s trying to pretend nothing unusual just

  happened. I have no idea what she’s thinking,

  and I decide not to tease her, but I’m still

  wondering about what Sophia said, because

  it sort of makes sense. We go to bed, but we can’t sleep.

  Abi speaks into the dark, Do you remember Mom? I was

  just a baby when lightning struck that day, so you’d

  think my answer would be no. But sometimes the smell

  of a coming storm cuts the air, like a knife so sharp

  it draws blood before you know you touched it. I feel

  thunder through the bottoms of my feet a heartbeat

  before I hear it. Maybe I do remember, I tell Abi. It’s not

  impossible. Babies have minds. They have eyes. Ears.

  Don’t you think I must have had a half-formed thought

  or two? Abi says, Yes. I can’t exactly hear her voice

  anymore, but in my memory she rocks us, feeds

  us, dries our hair with a soft towel. I say, Once she held me

  up to a frosty window, blew a hole with her warm breath. Seeds

  in my imagination. Abi says, When I’m swimming,

  and lie back on the waves, it’s like something sings

  to me and rocks me the way Mom did. Clouds in the shape

  of her hair shift on the wind until they look like wings.

  Our conversation opens a space, and Abi says, Sorry

  I snapped at you on the way home. You know how

  when you’re worried about something, you might

  get upset with the wrong person? Yes, I do, but wow,

  I’m surprised to hear Abi admit that to me.

  I ask, What are you worried about? And she says,

  You know—boys. Kissing. Oh. Umm … who are you

  planning to kiss? I ask. Brock would be my first guess,

  but maybe TJ, or, who knows, maybe she’s in love

  with that stuffed rabbit. I don’t know, she whispers.

  And then she says, Okay, I might as well tell you …

  I kissed TJ, corrects herself to say that TJ kissed her,

  and adds, It’s hard to say. But anyway, you see why

  it’s hard to talk to TJ now? I don’t know what he’s

  thinking. Last year, it was just a practice kiss. But now

  I think kissing should mean something. Don’t you? She’s

  asking for advice, I think, but what do I know?

  Before I say anything, she adds, Also—what if I kiss

  someone and then find out I like someone else better?

  She doesn’t mention any names, but this

  is not too hard for me to figure out: Abi likes Brock.

  The only answer I come up with is: Don’t kiss anyone

  until you decide who you like best. That advice doesn’t help.

  But, Claire, she says (I hear her smile in the dark), kissing is fun!

  Blake

  Claire

  We wake up early when the phone rings. It’s Dad

  calling to say, Your baby brother is wide awake.

  He was born twenty minutes ago, and he is perfect—

  just like his sisters. How do you like the name Blake?

  I try to remember where I’ve heard it before.

  Maybe in one of Mom’s books? I tell Dad, It’s okay.

  Abi says, I like it! and Dad goes, Well, good, that’s settled.

  He makes it sound like we actually did have a say.

  He tells us, The baby and Pam are fine, but the doctor

  thinks it would be best if we stay here in town one more

  night. Pam thinks I should drive back to check on things there.

  I’m not sure—I told her you girls would be okay on your

  own—what do you think? It’s good to know he trusts us.

  Don’t come home, Abi says. We’ll be fine. And I say, Yup,

  we’ll call if we need you, Dad. I can almost see Abi’s thoughts

  make a sharp turn onto kissing-street the minute we hang up.

  Abi Swims Out to the Raft

  Claire

  Today is calm and sunny, and Dad’s not home

  to tell us what we should—or shouldn’t—do.

  We have lunch, then pack our backpacks

  for the beach. Abi says, Let’s take the canoe.

  We paddle around Anna’s Island, catching

  the current, letting it carry us along. We plan

  to avoid it on the way home. At the beach, Abi

  walks up to the girls she met the other day. Can

  I sit here? she asks. Brock and another boy are

  on their way over. Sure, says one girl. Meg, it’s okay

  if Abi sits here, right? Meg smiles, nods—all the girls

  treat Abi like a friend. I hope Jonilet comes today.

  There she is, parking her bike. We find a place to sit

  and watch the teenagers, listening to their laughter.

  One after the other, they go in the water and dive

  under the rope with a lot of splash and chatter.

  As Abi swims out to the raft with them, her

  voice carries across the water, a sweet clear

  note in the chorus of girls’ and boys’ voices.

  As I watch, one part of me wants to cheer

  for Abi in the “Who Does Brock Like Best?”

  contest. Another part says, “No, wait. I’m on TJ’s

  side.” And still another part wants to go back

  to a time when no one I knew cared about boys.

  How Do You Know?

  Conversation while canoeing home

  Claire

  Abi

  Did you see that, Claire?

  What?

  Meg, Trinity, and Shari Lee all like Brock—and he likes me!

  How can you tell?

  I’m the one he looked at first after he did a huge cannonball off the raft.

  That’s it?

  That’s the main one, but also he lifted the rope and held it up for me.

  Oh.

  And: he looked at me when he didn’t think I was looking back.

  How do you know?

  Well … I was looking back.

  So if he was looking at you, and saw you looking at him, will he think you like him?

  Maybe. I don’t know.

  Let’s change the subject.

  Okay.

  Are you excited about the baby?

  Claire

  Abi

  Yes! Aren’t you?

  I guess so.

  It’s going to be different, though.

  Maybe in a good way.

  Maybe.

  Abi, can you tie up the canoe by yourself?

  I think I’ll take the kayak out for a little while.

  Not Ready

  Claire, in the kayak

  Everyone knows I

  love my sister, but I am

  still a little sad. I’m not

  ready for this boy-talk, or the

  way that Abi, one of the youngest

  teenagers at the beach, fits right in

  with those girls—and boys. Our

  summers were always family

  times. It’s different now.

  Telling the Neighbors the Baby Is Born

  The lake

  Looks like Claire went

  in the boathouse and found a life

  vest her mom hung on a hook in there,

  eleven years ago—it’s still in good shape.

  Now Claire seems peaceful, out here alone.

  Or is she alone? Who’s that, in his fishing boat,

  there beside the fallen log, where herons wade?

  Fred Gibson. He waves to Claire—she paddles

  over and tells him the baby is born. Ah, he says.

  Ruth
has been wondering. I’ll let her know. She’ll

  tell all our friends—you know how she is.

  He chuckles. It’s true—all along the

  east shore, neighbor to neighbor,

  everyone will hear about the

  new baby before another

  day goes by.

  On the life vest Claire

  found and pulled close around herself,

  the faded name spelled CARI. She’s made it

  her own by adding an L and an I, and making an

  E out of the final I: CLAIRE. I wonder where her

  sister is this afternoon. Oh, I see her now—

  over there, walking along the lake trail.

  Not paying much attention, until she

  glances up and sees TJ on the trail,

  looking out over the water. Hi, TJ. The baby

  is born. He’s coming home tomorrow. Dad says he’s

  very small and loud, she says. TJ leans in to catch

  every word, and Abi steps back a little bit.

  I heard, says TJ. Your dad called around

  noon and told us. What do you

  think of the name Blake? He puts his

  hands in his pockets, shifts his weight,

  eager to see Abi, but both of them a little

  awkward, now that they’re alone.

  Look! Abi says. There’s Claire,

  out in the kayak. I better get back

  now, before she comes home.

  Guess I’ll see you later.

  Abi Turns Away and TJ Stands There

  Claire

  I paddle away from Mr. Gibson in calm water—wait,

  is that Abi, under the willow tree, by that big rock?

  Is TJ with her? Maybe she’s telling him she doesn’t

  want to kiss him, because now she likes Brock.

  Abi turns away and TJ stands there looking at the lake.

  I paddle in to shore, pull up the kayak, and tie it

  to a tree, taking my time so I can wait for Abi. Here she

  comes now, jogging down the lake trail. We’re quiet

  as we climb the steps up to the cabin. When we

  get inside, I ask what she and TJ talked about.

  I told him about the baby—that’s all, she says.

  He already knew. I came home when I saw you out

  on the lake. The phone rings. Dad asks, Everything okay?

  We say yes, and he says, We’ll be home tomorrow afternoon

  around five or so. Of course, Abi doesn’t mention anything

  about boys. Bye, Dad, she says. Love you. See you soon!

  They Find a Place

  Claire

  It was so quiet in the cabin last night, we fell asleep

  earlier than usual. This morning Abi went for a swim

  before I woke up. Now she says, Claire, they’ll bring

  Blake home this afternoon, and I want to be here to meet him.

  Let’s go to the beach before lunch, so we’re sure to be back

  when they get here. We ride our bikes to the beach. Soon

  Brock shows up and heads straight for Abi. Their friends

  aren’t here, and they find a place in the shade to sit, alone.

  Pizza Pete’s

  Abi

  Brock asks me if I want to go get lunch at Pizza Pete’s.

  It’s across the lake—less than an hour on our bikes—

  and there’s no reason not to go. If we leave before everyone

  else comes to the beach, I’ll have a chance to get to know

  Brock on my own, and I’ll be home before Dad and Pam

  come home with Blake. Okay, I say. I’ll let my sister know.

  I tell Claire, We’re going out for pizza. She gives me a look—

  annoyed, suspicious? I don’t know. Will you quit it with

  that “Dad won’t like this” look? Oh, and we might stop by

  Brock’s house for a little while. Claire! How would Dad even know?

  I’ll be back by two, and they won’t be home till five. Is she mad

  because she wants to come, too? I’m sorry, but—no way.

  Claire gets on her bike and pedals so fast she’s out of sight

  before Brock and I leave. When we ride past our house,

  I see her bike on the grass, so I know she made it home okay.

  Family

  Claire, in the kayak

  Abi goes somewhere with a boy, and I’m

  not supposed to mind that we’re losing

  this day we almost had together? My

  idea was: let’s buy ourselves a whole

  chocolate-marble cake and a family-

  size veggie pizza, and eat cake first

  without saving any for Pam and Dad.

  If Abi wants to take off with Brock—and

  ignore me completely—I guess it means now

  I can do whatever I want without telling my

  plans to anyone, including my stupid sister.

  Claire Paddles Around a Bend

  The lake

  Sun shines on these girls

  here on the water. Claire: alone, maybe

  enjoying this time when no one—not her

  father and Pam, not Abi—knows where she is

  or will worry if she paddles around the lake a

  little farther. And Abi: standing on the end of a

  dock—she’s come with Brock to his house and

  she holds out her phone to take a picture.

  He stands beside her, smiling. She says,

  Even if I can’t post it, I can keep it to

  remind me of this great day I’ve had

  with you. She puts her phone back

  in her pocket, and turns around, still smiling.

  Nine ducklings swim by with their mother. Brock

  gets closer to Abi. He speaks in a low voice,

  slides an arm around her shoulder.

  Abi looks happy, standing there

  beside him. Perhaps they will kiss.

  Or maybe not. Claire, in the kayak, glides

  under a weeping willow that hangs out over

  the water. She paddles hard, around a bend—

  headed straight for her sister and Brock.

  Early afternoon, the sun is shining

  right in her eyes, blinding her

  so she doesn’t see Abi until it’s too

  late to retreat. She squints, sees their first

  embrace. It looks a little bit uncomfortable—

  each of them seems to be trying to figure out how to

  position themselves for the kiss they must be quite sure

  is about to happen. Then: Abi glances up and sees Claire.

  No! she cries. Brock looks up. What? he says. Abi takes a

  giant step to the side and tries to catch herself, but can’t.

  Claire stares at Abi for a split second, too far away to

  help, as Abi waves her arms and falls off the dock

  into my water. I’m sure Claire doesn’t mean to

  laugh, but she does. Abi comes up

  dripping wet, gasping for air.

  I Am Not

  Claire

  You’re a snoop and a spy, Abi yells. I’ve never seen

  her so mad. It was a coincidence, I keep insisting.

  Do you think I care enough to try to find out

  where you and your stupid boyfriend are kissing?

  She yells again: He’s not stupid! Plus we didn’t kiss.

  AND he is not EVEN my boyfriend—thanks to you!

  You better not tell Dad, you little creep.

  She tries to get me to take an actual vow:

  I solemnly swear that I … So I tease her a little:

  … am not a little creep. She balls up her hand

  and for half a second I think she might

  actually punch me. Then—slam!

  She’s out the door without saying where

  she’s going. Good—I hope she
stays gone.

  Maybe she’ll get lost in the woods or something,

  and cool off a little. I like being home alone.

  It Won’t Ever Be

  Abi

  I’m going for a long walk, where I won’t see

  anyone I know. The opposite way down the trail

  from TJ’s house, because what would I say if I saw him?

  And nowhere near the beach, where Brock

  is probably telling everyone how my little sister

  spied on us and laughed when I fell off his dock.

  Away from Claire for an hour or so. She wants

  everything to be exactly the same as it’s always been.

  Well, guess what? It’s not, and it won’t ever be again.

  A Spy and a Snoop

  Claire

  Abi’s been gone for half an hour. If she’s

  out somewhere with a boy, I don’t care.

  She can do whatever she wants.

  What I want to know is, where

  are Mom’s things? If Pam got rid of them,

  what would she do with them? Where are they

  now? With everyone gone, this might be

  a good chance to find out. Okay …

  I go in and look under Dad and Pam’s bed.

  Nothing but dust. (… you little creep)

  I open their closet. Start with Pam’s side.

  So many clothes. (… a snoop and a spy) I keep

  looking: Yoga mat. Organized shoe shelves.

  (“Stack summer shoes in rainbow order;

  make it easy to match any outfit”—Abi and I

  laughed together about that “Pointer

  from Pam” just last month.) Pam is so boring—

  none of this is what I’m looking for.

  What are you … (Who’s that?

  I didn’t hear anyone open the door.)

  … doing in their closet? Abi! I scramble out.

  Now who’s spying? Oh—I left the door ajar,

  that’s why I didn’t hear her come in. I know,

  she says. You’re proving my point. You really are