by Rachel Shane
“Oh my freaking God. This is not about you! Stop being jealous.” Lara grabbed a vinyl band a few inches ahead and paused to test her balance before she dragged her body to meet the arm. The chair wobbled beneath her weight. I threaded my elbows through the metal frame to act as an anchor.
“Don’t climb when you’re angry.” The chair shuddered beneath my hands as Lara inched forward.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She slapped her hand on the metal frame like she didn’t care anymore about her safety. With a burst of energy that sent me flying forward until the bar dug into my chest, she flung herself toward the middle of the chair.
Just then the sliding glass door opened. “Is everything o—oh my God!”
I whipped my head toward Finn so fast, I took the end of the chair with me. It scraped across the top of the ledge. I’d forgotten I’d left him waiting in the room.
“Stop!” Lara yelled, clutching the vinyl bands with white knuckles. “Don’t you dare mess this up for me too.”
I concentrated hard on digging my fingers around the sides of the lounge chair to keep it steady.
Finn rushed over to me and grabbed onto the chair, looping his arms above my own. “What the hell are you doing?” He turned to me with a look that made my heart stop. “This is dangerous! You could die!”
Lara’s fingers tightened on the vinyl bands. Finn’s words must have gotten to her because she twirled around on the chair too fast, too jerky.
“Whoa, Lara. Slow and steady.” Finn held up one hand like he was directing traffic.
“Yeah, Lara. Don’t be stupid.” I’d meant my words to be encouraging, but they came off condescending.
“Shut. Up.” She crawled toward me at a fast clip. The look in her eyes was venomous. The entire structure rattled beneath my hands. “We’re done.” She lunged at me in an attempt to jump back onto the balcony.
Instinctively, I backed away. I’d like to say I was trying to give her room to land, but mostly I feared she would land on me. When I lifted my hands from the lounge chair, the weight of it teetered off balance as the back end came up from where it rested on the opposite balcony. Finn threw his entire torso onto our end of the chair, but wasn’t fast enough to steady it. The chair skidded off the opposite balcony ledge completely.
Three screams dragged from our collective lips. The chair swung toward our balcony and smacked hard into the white railing. Somehow Lara had managed to hang on but now she dangled there, gripping the flimsy vinyl bands. They pulled away from the metal chair frame and threatened to snap off. She held on with white knuckles, trying to win the battle with gravity.
Finn turned red faced as he tried with all his strength to keep the chair that held my sister from plummeting into the ocean below.
Frantic, I threw my arm toward Lara. “Grab on!”
Her fingernails dug into the skin on the back of my hand, indenting tiny half moons that connected a few of my freckles. I ground my teeth and tried to yank her up with my clammy, tear-streaked hands, barely dragging her an inch.
“Don’t,” she begged, no longer a scream, but a whisper.
I wasn’t sure if she meant don’t drop me or don’t save me.
My muscles strained from bearing her weight. I couldn’t see her through a film of tears, and the wind punching me in the face didn’t help. My grunting from exertion drowned out whatever Finn was shouting at me. Ragged breaths rushed from my mouth in a competition all their own. I should have been pulling her up, but Lara’s cries dragged me down instead.
She was right. It was all my fault. I’d stolen everything from her and it was time to give it all back. I’d put her in this position, and so I said the words I’d wanted to hear from her. “I’m sorry.”
And then, I lost the battle I was fighting.
I caught the horrified, desperate look in her eyes before her fingers slipped from mine. Her body elongated as straight and elegant as a ballerina’s as it careened toward the ocean.
I ripped my eyes away from Finn’s wide-mouthed expression and stared at my hands as if they might have the answer to the one question pounding through my brain—
Did I drop her? Or had I let go on purpose?
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AS EACH HEAD SWIVELED in my direction on my way to my locker, I felt like I’d been opened up on the operating table, my guts exposed for all to see. A girl tapped her friend when she spotted me, and both their eyes widened, making me stumble. I stepped around them cautiously, like I was testing the temperature of the water with my toes.
A boy I didn’t recognized came right at me in the hallway, pointing with both hands toward the front of his t-shirt. The words Team On Purpose were emblazoned in large black letters on the front of the white shirt.
Another girl tapped me on the back and gave me thumbs up before she jutted out her boobs to reveal her own Team On Purpose shirt.
I squinted at them, not sure why I should care. Theories ran through my head. New band making all the rage among students. School project requiring students to market shirts. A hipster trend I’d only like once it wasn’t cool to like it anymore.
I reached my locker and Amanda Reynolds from English class sidled up next to me. “Don’t worry. I got your back.” To emphasize this, she patted my shoulder before joining a group of girls all wearing similar white t-shirts. Except theirs said Team Drop.
The book I was holding fell from my hands. All the blood drain from my face as she strutted away. I rushed after her, weaving past cliques of Team On Purpose and Team Drop. Several people up ahead were lifting the incriminating shirts over their regular school clothes. One boy decided to strip down to his abs before donning a Team Drop.
“Amanda!” I called after her. “Wait.”
She turned around and the rest of her posse stopped as well.
“Where did you get that shirt?”
“Do you want one? Britney got it for me.” She jutted her chin toward a girl next to her.
“Fifteen bucks,” Britney said in a deadpan.
My stomach bubbled. “You’re selling these?”
Britney gave me a confused look. “Not me. The dance team.”
Of course. The dance team. My hands curled into fists. “Where?”
The warning bell blared, and I cursed under my breath. It didn’t matter where. They were probably already packing up shop and shipping off to class. I’d just have to confront them in lunch.
As the day progressed, the number of students wearing their regular clothes diminished. I stood out in my faded jeans and green t-shirt and the truth, written all over my face. I couldn’t even decide whether or not I let go of Lara on purpose or dropped her accidentally and here these students thought they knew. By my unscientific poll of counting t-shirts and evil glares, I’d say the results were about fifty/fifty.
I stood in the doorway of my Spanish classroom, my eyes scanning the room until I spotted Lonnie in a light blue shirt. The breath that flew from my lungs sent my bangs flying. He hadn’t taken a side.
But that didn’t mean he’d still be on mine.
I plopped my books on the desk next to his. It took all my effort to swivel to face him. He studied me for more than a minute, keeping his notebook pressed against his chest.
“You didn’t choose a side?”
“Oh, I did.” He left it at that.
I took him still talking to me as a good sign. I picked at a splinter curling up from my archaic wooden desk. “I don’t understand why you don’t hate me after all this, Lonnie.”
“You’re never going to forgive yourself unless someone forgives you. And that someone is me. Well, until I find out what it is you ruined for me.”
The corners of my lips tugged into a smile. “So I guess you’re Team Drop, then?”
He shook his head.
My face fell. “The other one?”
He shook his head again. “I try not to be a follower. I made my own team.” He unfurled the notebook from his chest to sh
ow off the words Team Finn written in sharpie marker.
His shirt forced me to wear the only other smile I’d donned in days. “Does your shirt mean you’re done thinking about the other thing you weren’t supposed to be thinking about?” I chose to speak in vague terms in case the ears surrounding us were eager subscribers of my blog.
He must have caught on to my cryptic lingo, because he ripped out a sheet of notebook paper and scribbled on it: That depends, what are you thinking about?
Instinct made me want to crumble the paper and toss it in the garbage. I didn’t need another reminder that I’d never stop thinking about Finn, no matter how hard I tried to replace him with someone else. No matter how much I liked that someone else too.
I drew a happy face on the paper. I’m thinking about Denise.
His eyebrows shot way up his forehead.
I ripped the paper out of his hands and added: Not like that!
If he didn’t start liking Denise, my whole plan to get her to forgive me would backfire. The blog would only get me so far. Plus, they had even more in common than he and I did. She liked music for more than just dancing. He liked to eat. Okay, I did too, but still, wasn’t a way to a guy’s heart through his stomach? The only thing I’d ever given his stomach was an ache or two. But it wasn’t just hobbies, it was personalities. They were both outgoing while I decidedly wasn’t. They both stuck up for their friends—until their friends betrayed them, anyway. They both had good hearts, they just needed someone else to fill them.
Lonnie shrugged. Notebooks opened in a synchronized move, each student flipping to a blank page to the beat of Señora Ferrara’s heels clicking as she walked to the blackboard. The last of the stragglers rushed into the room, his Team Drop t-shirt flapping behind him.
At lunch Ali sat proudly behind a table covered with t-shirts. She of course wore a Team On Purpose shirt, though hers was several sizes too small, accentuating her boobs. She offered a two-for-one deal at the low low price of twenty-five dollars.
I headed over to her table, keeping both my breathing and my walking even, ignoring the way my hands shook. I also ignored the sea of white t-shirts behind me. Lonnie followed me.
“Two for one special.” Ali beamed at me. “Unless of course you just want the one.” She strung a Team On Purpose over my arms. “It’s for a good cause!” She clapped her hands and pointed at a smaller sign taped to the edge of the table. All proceeds go to the Dance Team. “To pay our way to Nationals.”
I ripped my eyes away from the Nationals sign. That new information made me want to sprint back to my table and bury my head beneath it like an ostrich. I should have been going with them. At least Lara’s reign would be living on with them as they performed her choreographed moves at the competition.
“I’ll take two.” I snatched up a Team Drop shirt and draped it on top of my Team On Purpose shirt.
When I handed her the money, she studied it like it might be counterfeit. “And for you?” she asked Lonnie.
“Oh, I’m not here to buy anything. Just to stare you down disdainfully. Consider it my gift to you.”
Ali shrugged. “Hmm. I smell a coward. Taking after Kasey now? Too chicken to make up your mind?”
“If I were to buy one. It would be this one.” He pointed at the Team Drop shirt. I let out a breath. He still supported me, despite what I’d done to him.
“Then move along. You’re blocking the customers.” A small line had queued up behind us. Students flapped their money as they shifted from foot to foot. Ali waved the next customer forward until her eyes locked on something clear across the cafeteria. “Denise!” she yelled, causing several people carrying trays to turn their attention to us. “It’s your shift!”
My mouth went dry. I pivoted slowly to see Denise coming toward us. Wearing a coral shirt. Not a team shirt.
But that just meant she hadn’t chosen a side yet.
Denise slipped behind the table and set down a Tupperware filled with some sort of cream pies she’d baked. She avoided my eye as she announced, “Chocolate with orange cream.” She waved her hand over the Tupperware in invitation. It took all my will power to keep my hand stiff to my side instead of reaching out to pluck one like I desperately wanted.
Lonnie, however, yanked off the blue lid and helped himself. He shoved the entire pastry in his mouth. “Yum.” Bits of chocolate flew from his lips. “These are really good.”
Denise turned away from us, preventing me from discerning whether she was smiling or not.
Ali shoved a Team On Purpose t-shirt into her hands. “You need to advertise the merchandise.”
A blush crept across Denise’s cheeks. “I’m not wearing one of those,” she addressed Ali. “I don’t think it’s right.” She turned to me. “This wasn’t my idea.”
I nodded. It may not have been her idea, but she was still participating by selling them.
“Want me to make you one of my flawless and unique Team Finn shirts?” Lonnie lifted the fabric of his t-shirt. “Way more flattering than those.”
“I’m staying out of choosing a team until I know more.” She met my eyes. “As in, I need to know if what you did to me was on purpose or not.”
I wished I had an answer she’d approve of. “I’m getting to that.”
Lonnie stole another cream pie from the container before we headed back to our usual table. Once I sat down, I put on both t-shirts, one right over the other. I wasn’t sure which team I belonged on either.
SIX FEET UNDER THE SEA
Posted by Kasey at 8:21 P.M.
Thursday, September 11
Past Mood: Ditto
SAT Word Of The Day: Dissolution. Definition: ‘Dis solution to my problem was to sever all ties
Number of unique hits to my blog BEFORE the last post: 307
Number of unique hits to my blog AFTER the last post: 1289
*thud*
Finn tossed the lounge chair onto the balcony, forcing me to hop out of the way. He peered over the balcony and shouted for my sister. My hands flew to my mouth, muffling my own silent scream. I stared at the hollowed out gashes Lara’s fingernails had left behind on my skin. This didn’t happen. Couldn’t have happened.
Finn whipped his head around and when he met my eyes, there were tears in his. “Did you do that on purpose?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He hurried toward me, and I held out my arm so he could help me figure out what to do, fix the situation somehow. But he went right past me, rushing for my room.
I forced my legs to work, but instead of carrying me after Finn, they buckled to the ground. I gripped the lowest rung of the railing for support, and leaned over, pushing my head between the two white bars. A fresh scream ripped from my throat as I spotted Lara face down in the water, motionless. A five story fall.
The contents of my stomach bubbled and then made their own escape out of my throat, following my sister into the ocean below.
Finn came rushing back outside carrying the two life vests stored inside the room. He stopped short when he saw me on the ground, wiping my mouth. “You’re not even going to call for help?”
“I—” I didn’t think of it. Why didn’t I think of it? I pushed myself up and looked to him for guidance. He always liked leading me, and now I needed him to more than ever. I sucked in a deep breath that rattled on the way into my mouth. Finn had a plan. I had to stay calm and find out what it was. “What are you going to do with those?”
“Save your sister.” He slid the orange material over his arms, fingers shaking.
I reached out for the second lifejacket, but he tossed it overboard before I could grab it. “Finn, no, you can’t. Let me go instead! It’s my fault, I should be the one—”
“Haven’t you done enough?” He snapped the plastic buckles together. It sounded so final against the whipping wind. “You’re not the girl I fell in love with, not if you’re capable of this.” He climbed onto the overturned lounge chair, then used it to pull himself ont
o the rail.
His words sliced through my gut, twisting and turning. He loved me. No, he didn’t. Not anymore. Hot tears congregated for a prison break out of my eyes. I clutched the bottom of his shirt in two bunches and yanked, trying to pull him off the ledge and back onto the safety of the balcony. “Please, Finn, don’t! You’ll get hurt!”
“I already am.” Raising his arms into a prayer position above his head, he dove off the ledge. My fingers were forced to let go of his shirt, and once again, I stared at my empty hands. After a second, I heard another splash.
I choked back nausea and forced myself to look over the ledge. Finn wasn’t visible anywhere. I held my breath, waiting, hoping, shattering. A few seconds later, he shot out of the water yards away from Lara, gasping for breath. His head bobbed as he oriented himself and treaded water toward my sister.
I spun around in circles, my mind at war. I wanted to see if he was okay, if he had Lara, but I needed to call for help. Once again, I followed Finn’s leadership, just like I’d always followed behind in Lara’s footsteps. I was never the leader and now I’d never be the hero.
I spent the next twenty-four hours on the ship locked in either my cabin or my parents’ cabin, helping Mom pack for all four of us. She had stayed behind with me while Dad flew on the medical evacuation helicopter with Lara to a hospital in Miami.
It was the one time I hadn’t wanted Mom to choose me over my sister.
Mom kept her lips pressed tight as she smacked shoes into the suitcase, making as much noise as possible to fill the din. Every time she picked up one of Lara’s dance leotards, she squeezed the material to her chest and sobbed. A thousand apologies flew to my lips, but every time I uttered one, she’d shatter all over again. So I dared not even breathe too loudly as I folded and refolded Lara’s t-shirts until I got them into perfect, crisp squares. I didn’t want to mess up this simple task for Lara, too.
