by Piper Banks
I scanned the beach, looking for a coppery redhead, and finally spotted Dex, sitting on a log at the bottom of the dunes, just to the left of the lifeguard shack. His long legs were bent in front of him, and he was resting his elbows on knees, his hands clasped together. I drew in a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever was about to happen, and, my heart thumping heavily, trudged up the beach toward Dex.
“Hi,” I said when I reached him.
Dex looked up at me, squinting in the sun. “Hi,” he said.
He looked unusually serious. His pale blue eyes were free of their usual glinting humor and he wasn’t smiling. I sat down next to him on the log. My mouth suddenly felt very dry. This was it, I thought. Dex was about to break up with me. If everything was okay, he’d have been happier to see me. He would have stood and kissed me. Instead, he just sat there, not even taking my hand in his. It felt like we were already miles apart, even though he was sitting only inches away.
“Where’s Willow?” Dex asked.
“I left her at the beach house. It’s too hot to bring her, but she’s furious that I left without her. I even heard her bark once or twice,” I said. Willow rarely barked, not even when she saw her archenemy, Madonna the Cat.
“Poor Willow,” Dex said.
I nodded and dug my toes into the hot sand. I wanted to ask him if he was breaking up with me. Part of me thought that if I never brought it up and he never brought it up, well, then, it would never happen. Even if he wanted it to. But a larger part of me didn’t want to be the desperate girlfriend hanging on to a guy who didn’t want to be with her. I had my pride. I hugged my arms around myself and tried to work up the courage to ask him.
But before I could, Dex spoke. “So I guess you’re breaking up with me,” he said, his voice flat.
“What?” I was so astonished that for a moment I forgot to breathe. When I remembered—I felt a searing pain in my chest—I let my breath out in a great whoosh.
“You’re breaking up with me,” Dex repeated. “Aren’t you?”
“No,” I said slowly. “I’m not. I thought you were breaking up with me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Why?” I repeated. “Why?”
“Yes,” Dex said. “Why? And don’t just repeat the word why. I mean, why would you think I wanted to break up with you?”
“You mean you don’t want to break up with me?” I asked.
“No. I mean, yes.”
“Yes?”
“I mean, yes, I really don’t want to break up with you. And you don’t want to break up with me?” Dex asked.
“No. I don’t want to break up,” I said. “Well, not unless you want to.”
“I don’t want to,” Dex said again.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. He smiled. “I’m glad that’s cleared up.”
I grinned back at him, until I suddenly remembered what had led up to this conversation. Dex was leaving and he’d hidden it from me. The smile faded from my face.
“So you’re really leaving?” I asked.
“Hi, Miranda.”
Dex and I both looked up sharply. Amelia was standing there. She was wearing her purple-striped bathing suit and her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. A faded light blue knapsack was slung over one of her shoulders.
“Amelia,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I called your house, and your dad told me you were here,” Amelia said.
I glanced around, looking for her mom and not seeing her. “Wait. You came by yourself?”
Amelia nodded.
“How did you get here?”
“I biked over,” Amelia said simply.
“Does your mom know you’re here?” I asked.
“Of course not. She’d have never let me come. She thinks you’re a bad influence on me,” Amelia said.
“I’m not a bad influence!” I said indignantly.
“I think I’m missing something,” Dex said, looking confused. “Why would Amelia’s mother think you’re a bad influence on her?”
“I forgot. You don’t know—I was fired,” I said.
“Seriously? Why?” Dex asked.
“Mrs. Fisher thought that I was interfering with Amelia’s piano practice,” I explained.
“Were you?” Dex asked.
“No! I just thought that Amelia should get a say in her life, that’s all,” I said. I looked at Amelia. “You shouldn’t have come. Your mom wouldn’t like it.”
“It’s okay. She doesn’t know I’m here.”
“That’s not okay,” I exclaimed. “Where does she think you are?”
“At home, practicing. She’s there, too. But she was talking on the phone to one of her clients, and I knew she’d be on forever, so I plugged my iPod into the stereo, turned on some Vladimir Horowitz, and left.”
“What’s Vladimir Horowitz?” Dex asked.
“He was a really famous pianist,” Amelia explained. “Anyway, my mom never bothers me while I’m practicing, so as long as she hears the music, she’ll have no idea that I’m not home.”
“That’s brilliant,” Dex said. He sounded impressed. I kicked him gently in the heel and shot him a quelling look.
“Amelia, your mom is going to freak when she finds out you’re gone,” I said. “Come on, I’m taking you home right now. Wait. I don’t have a car.” I looked hopefully at Dex. “Did you drive over?”
“No. I walked over from the pool. My sister needed to borrow my car today, so she dropped me off at work today,” Dex said.
“You’re going to have to bike home on your own,” I told Amelia. I didn’t like the idea, but it was either that or I’d have to call Amelia’s mom to come pick her up. And even though it had been wrong of Amelia to sneak out, I didn’t want to get her in trouble.
“No! I’m not going!” Amelia said, stamping her foot on the ground.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because Dex promised he’d teach me how to surf,” Amelia said.
“No, I didn’t,” Dex said quickly. “I told you I’d teach you the basics, on dry land, but that you had to wait to surf until you’re a stronger swimmer.”
“But I can swim,” Amelia protested. “I’m ready now.”
“Not well enough to surf. It can be really dangerous out there, even on a day like today.” Dex gestured toward the seemingly calm ocean. “There’s a strong undertow out there. The lifeguards posted a warning about it on the board.”
“I can do it!” Amelia insisted.
Dex shook his head. “It’s not safe,” he said.
“You just don’t want to bother teaching me!”
“Amelia, that’s not fair,” I said. “Dex taught you to how to swim.”
Amelia took a step back. Her face was red and contorted with rage.
“He doesn’t care about me, and neither do you! So stop pretending like you do!” Amelia shouted.
I grew aware of the looks we were getting from people sitting nearby. Some had even put down their books and magazines, and were craning around to get a better look at the commotion.
“I’m not pretending. I do care about you, and so does Dex,” I protested. “But you shouldn’t even be here, Amelia. I’m not your babysitter anymore.”
Amelia looked as though I’d slapped her. She bit her lower lip, as though to hold in tears, and then turned and stormed away.
“Wait! I’ll take you home,” I called after her. We’d have to walk back to the beach house to get my dad’s car, but that was better than having her go off by herself when she was this upset.
But Amelia didn’t stop or turn around, or even acknowledge that I’d spoken.
I looked at Dex, feeling equal amounts of anxiety and exasperation. “Should I go after her?”
“How far away does she live?” Dex asked.
“Not far. Maybe a mile and a half?” I guessed. “She and I have biked it before.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine, then. Besides
, if you’re the one to take her home, her mom might think you put her up to sneaking out,” Dex said.
“That’s true,” I said. I sat back on the log next to Dex, wondering if I could have handled that better. Should I have reminded Amelia that it was no longer my job to take care of her? She’d looked so hurt.
Dex took my hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. When I was Amelia’s age, I biked all over town by myself,” Dex said.
“Yeah, I guess I did, too,” I said, feeling a bit better.
We sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sun sparkle on the ocean. A small girl with pigtails and a pink swim shirt was walking into the water, holding on tightly to her mother’s hand.
“Why wouldn’t you talk to me when I called you yesterday?” Dex asked.
“I wasn’t sure what to say. Why didn’t you tell me before that you were leaving?”
“I didn’t know how,” Dex said. “It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, long before I ever met you. This school, the Brown Academy, has a top lacrosse program, one of the best in the country. Getting on the team there would almost guarantee me a spot on a top college team. But I didn’t think I’d ever be able to go, because there’s no way my parents could ever afford it. Then my scholarship came through right after you and I got together, and I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“That’s what you wanted to talk to Wendy about.”
“She’s been away at prep school for the past year. I wanted to know if she liked it.”
“Not the same school you’ll be going to?” I asked hopefully.
“No.” Dex smiled faintly. “Her school is in New York. The Brown Academy is in Maine.”
I nodded, glad for that at least. Wendy Erickson might have a serious boyfriend, but even so, I didn’t relish the idea of her getting any closer to Dex. “So what did Wendy tell you?”
“She told me that there are things she likes and things she doesn’t like about going away from school. She said that she really missed her friends and family at home, and that the academics were a lot harder. But she said she eventually adjusted and made friends up there, and that overall she was glad she’d gone,” Dex said.
I tried to swallow down the walnut-sized lump in my throat. That’s what would happen with Dex, too, I thought sadly. He’d go away, and at first he’d miss his life here, but gradually he would get used to it. And eventually, his life there would be his regular life, and this would just be a place he’d visit on holidays.
Don’t go, I wanted to stay. If you really loved me, you would stay.
Except that I couldn’t say that. I couldn’t ask him to give up this amazing opportunity. And I wouldn’t, because I loved him.
I inhaled deeply. “I think she’s right,” I said.
“You do?” Dex asked.
“I’m sure there’s an adjustment period at first, but once you settle in and get to know the people at your new school, I’m sure you’ll be really happy there.”
Dex looked down, and nudged a piece of dried seaweed with his toe. “I don’t know,” he said broodingly. “I’m not even sure I want to go anymore.”
“Why not?”
Dex looked at me, squinting against the bright sun. “I don’t want to move away from you,” he said softly.
Joy and pain swelled inside me, until I thought my skin would burst from trying to contain all of my feelings. Dex was thinking about giving up on his dream just to stay near me. The lump in my throat expanded. If I told him not to go . . . if I asked him to stay for me . . .
But I couldn’t do that. I shook my head. “No. You’re right, it is too good of an opportunity pass up. It’s like you said, this could mean a full scholarship to college for you. It’s a big deal.”
“What happens with us?” Dex asked.
“We’ll talk on the phone and on Skype. We’ll make it work,” I said.
And even though I’d worried about the exact same thing—how well could a long-distance relationship really work?—at that moment, it felt like the truth. We would figure out a way. Somehow.
“And we’ll see each other during my vacations,” Dex said.
I drew in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
“Actually, there’s something I haven’t told you,” I said.
“What?”
“My mom wants me to move to London to live with her,” I admitted. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to go yet.”
Ever since I found out Dex was leaving, I’d wondered if it changed how I felt about moving to London. Had I been lying to myself all along, thinking that there were more reasons than just Dex to stay in Orange Cove?
Oddly enough, the decision didn’t seem any clearer. Sure, taking Dex out of the equation might tilt things in London’s favor, but there were still reasons—good reasons—to stay. For one thing, my friends were here. Charlie and Finn could make me crazy at times—and I wondered if that would even get worse, now that Charlie had finally owned up to her feelings for Finn—but they were like family to me. It was impossible to imagine not seeing them almost every day.
And then there was my position at The Ampersand. The more I wrote—and I tried to write every day—the more it felt like it was the right path for me. And The Ampersand had won all kinds of awards and national recognition. Sure, a school magazine might not be the only chance I’d ever have to publish—hopefully it wouldn’t. But having a position there, getting published in it, might help get me into one of the top writing programs in the country when I went to college. Going to London might be an interesting addendum to my college applications, but surely it wouldn’t be quite as impressive.
“Wow,” Dex said.
“Yeah, I know.”
I turned to look at him. As we stared at each other, I thought I could actually feel my heart breaking. Tears welled up, stinging my eyes. Dex looked close to tears, too.
“Miranda—” he began.
But before Dex could finish whatever it was he was about to say, shouts broke out, coming from the direction of the water’s edge. We both looked up.
“There’s a little girl out there! I think she’s in trouble!” a man called out.
“Someone get the lifeguard!” a woman screamed.
Dex and I were both on our feet running before we heard another word.
Amelia, I thought. Amelia. Somehow, I just knew it was her, even before I saw the long dark hair floating up in the water and the glimpses of a purple-striped swimsuit amidst the white-foam-capped waves.
I heard the sharp blow of the lifeguard’s whistle and knew the guards on duty were on their way, but Dex got to the water first. Without hesitating, he dove in, fully clothed, and began swimming out toward the small figure bobbing twenty feet out from shore. People crowded around me, pointing and shouting, as though this would somehow help Dex. I knew there was no way he could hear any of us over the roar of the ocean.
The two lifeguards on duty, each clutching a long red floatie, reached the water and dove in, swimming after Dex. But he’d already gotten to Amelia, and had turned her over, faceup, hooking one arm around her to keep her afloat.
“Over here!” Dex shouted to the lifeguards, waving his free arm in the air.
Even though it was a boiling-hot day, my entire body had turned to ice. Numbly, my hands clasped in front of me, I sent up a silent prayer, please oh please oh please oh please, as the lifeguards took Amelia from Dex, leaned her back against their red flotation devices, and together, swam her ashore.
There were gasps and muttering from the crowd as the lifeguards carried Amelia out of the surf and laid her down on the sand. She looked so small and helpless. A loose circle of observers formed around Amelia and her rescuers. I heard someone sob, and realized, distantly, that it was me.
“Stand back,” one of the lifeguards shouted to the crowd, and everyone took an obligatory two steps back, without breaking the circle formation.
I couldn’t move. I stood there, frozen
in place, until Dex, his hair dripping wet and rivulets of water running down his arms, took my hand and pulled me to the side.
Amelia was breathing and had her eyes open. That was something, I thought. She seemed confused, though, as the lifeguards asked her questions, and she kept convulsing with body-racking coughs. Someone brought over a towel, which was draped over Amelia, shielding her pale skin from the sun.
“Is this girl’s parent or guardian here?” one of the lifeguards asked.
I didn’t respond—I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I was vaguely aware that my legs, arms, pretty much every part of me was trembling. Dex put an arm around me—wet, but reassuringly solid—and pressed a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m her babysitter,” I said.
This caused the crowd to start murmuring again, as everyone turned to look at me. Some of the gazes were curious, others were downright hostile, especially as they took in Dex’s arm around me. I knew what they were thinking: What kind of a horrible, irresponsible person hangs out with her boyfriend instead of watching the child in her care? And they were right. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t brought Amelia to the beach. She had come there to find me. I should have seen her safely home. This was all my fault.
An ambulance was driven right onto the beach, and the medics jumped out and went straight over to Amelia. They checked her vitals and then moved her onto a stretcher and transferred her to the ambulance.
“I should go with her,” I said to Dex through chattering teeth.
“Go ahead. I’ll call my sister for a ride. I’ll meet you at the hospital as soon as I can,” he promised.
I climbed into the ambulance after the medics. Between Amelia’s stretcher and the various equipment, there wasn’t a lot of room to navigate, but one nodded toward a chair, complete with seat belt, off to one side.
“Take a seat,” the medic said.
I sat, facing Amelia. She looked very small and very pale. Her wet hair was a tangle around her face. There was a dark bruise just under her right eye.
