Proof of Forever

by Lexa Hillyer

  Tali grabs Joy’s hand and pulls her toward the boys, and in turn Joy grabs Zoe’s. Zoe is so startled she almost stops walking for a second. She hasn’t held Joy’s hand in two years—probably not since they rode the spinning-swings ride and reached out to try and slap each other’s hands, spinning farther apart and then closer again, dipping in and out of sky. She hasn’t had that feeling since, the ghost of which returns to her now: belonging. Being one with her friends, connected, inseparable.

  Moving like that, in a chain, they snake across the crowded deck, through the clinking and blinging of slot machines and betting tables.

  “Ladies, ladies,” Blake says, his grin big and rich looking (why do rich kids always have such big white teeth?). “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Am I right?”

  “Including the herpes,” Zoe reflexively quips, then cringes, then tries to turn the cringe into a smile. She still doesn’t understand why Tali can’t see what a total douche Blake is. These are not her people. She’s doomed to keep saying ridiculous crap the longer she’s around them.

  Jacob laughs, baring equally bright whites, and the other guy leans toward the girls conspiratorially. “We have the goods, by the way, if you all want some. Just don’t tell too many people or we’ll run out.”

  Blake eyes Tali. “Don’t worry. Bender and her friends are safe, right, girls?” Is it Zoe’s imagination, or does Tali blanch slightly when he says friends? “As long as Mini Cruz doesn’t tattle, that is.”

  “She’ll never have to know,” Tali says, like Luce is some lame stray dog who follows the rest of them around instead of one of their best friends. Instantly, the feeling of belonging passes. These people are disgusting—they remind Zoe of that horrible friend of Tali’s from school, Ashlynn, and the douchey lacrosse players they usually hang out with. Their mere presence seems to instantly turn Tali into one of their clones.

  To Zoe’s surprise, Joy touches the arm of no-name guy, almost flirtatiously. It’s a small thing, but it bugs Zoe, like Joy is taking Tali’s side over hers. “So show us where to find it?” Joy says shyly.

  The guy shrugs and waves an arm. Joy follows, and so does Tali. Not interested in getting stuck with Jake and Blake, Zoe once again trails behind, but not before overhearing Blake say to Jake: “I’ve got dibs on the one who can do the splits.”

  “Wonder what else she can do,” Jake says back, with a laugh.

  “Hopefully a flying leap away from creeps like you,” Zoe mutters, though neither of them hear her. Zoe almost feels bad that Tali has to hook up with Blake again. But Tali must know what she’s getting herself into.

  As the three girls trail Blake’s no-name lackey (it turns out he does have a name: Soffi) toward the cabinet belowdecks where he and his boys have stored the booze, Zoe scans the crowd. Rebecca Ross, a Bunk Wolfer, floats past her up the stairs in a midriff-baring top that’s more bra than shirt. Cherry Brentworth and Emily Fargo are not far behind.

  “I see you brought your two friends,” she observes as Rebecca passes. Rebecca casts her a look like Who are you, anyway? Luckily, she doesn’t seem to pick up the fact that Zoe was talking about her exposed cleavage, not her actual friends. Zoe can’t believe even the fourteen-year-olds dress like that, but immediately she chides herself, realizing even in her head she sounds old and lame. Kids these days, she imagines Cal whispering to her. She grins and then is hit by a wave of sadness. If only Cal were here to entertain her, to help her make fun of all these people, these people with whom she used to feel totally normal, comfortable, like she belonged. Instead, she’s the weird girl muttering bitchy comments for her own amusement. Old Tali would have laughed at Zoe’s sarcastic jokes. New Tali . . . well, New Tali has left her in the dust, just like she has for the past two years.

  She’s so distracted she doesn’t spot Russ Allen approaching her until it’s almost too late. Ugh. There he is with his stupid waterproof sandals and that stiff crew cut and the backpack he brings everywhere with him, containing, Zoe recalls, his inhaler and a spare set of waterproof sandals. Because the only things hotter than waterproof sandals are two pairs of waterproof sandals. She cannot for the life of her recall why she ever kissed him at Water Wars (and let him reach under her bikini top afterward with his gross, fumblingly big hands). Talk about major mistakes.

  Quickly she ducks behind a counselor headed in the opposite direction and weaves her way toward the snack bar, without a chance to tell Joy and Tali she’s no longer on their trail. She wonders whether they’ll notice she has disappeared. Maybe they’ll be glad. Maybe she’s just being lame.

  What she needs is a serious salt and sugar high. Zoe is pleased to see through the cluster of heads in front of her that the snack bar is impressively stocked, and not with normal Okahatchee fare, either. Instead, it looks like they’ve raided the best vending machines north of Boston—the table is littered with chips, candy, and chocolate that hasn’t even started melting yet. Sweet.

  But just when the person in front of her absconds with two Snickers bars and a package of Oreos and Zoe is about to take her spot at the bar, a figure darts in front of her.

  “Hey,” Zoe says. “No cuts.”

  The boat bobs slightly under her feet as the girl whips around and Zoe comes face-to-face with two piercing blue eyes and an expression that seems to say Try me. But her expression quickly changes to one of surprise when she recognizes Zoe at the same time Zoe recognizes her—it’s Ellis, the girl from fencing, the one who distracted her earlier today, darting about like a hungry hummingbird after liquid sugar. The one who almost—almost—bested Zoe when they were sparring. Zoe can see that without her helmet on, she has messy-looking, wavy, dark hair down to her shoulders, bright red lips, and chiseled but petite features with a somewhat pointy nose—not unlike a hummingbird, in fact.

  “Looks like you still need to work on your speed,” Ellis says. She winks at Zoe.

  Before Zoe can react, the girl has disappeared back into the crowd. Zoe tries to follow her path with her eyes but can’t.

  Zoe turns back to the snack bar, which now looks far less appealing than it did just a few minutes ago. Is it her, or have the big lake’s waves gotten rougher? Over the railing, she sees the shoreline getting farther away. All she can think about now is that brat Ellis, who is clearly determined to be her primary competition, the main hurdle between Zoe and a gold medal; the one factor that could hold her back from ever returning to the present—that is, if her plan even works.

  As the wind whips Zoe’s face, the only certainty is that she is, once again, trapped: out here on this boat, and, quite possibly, in her own past.

  10

  “It’s right back here,” Tali says, the sickly-sweet schnapps warming her throat. She pulls Blake’s hand, shoving the back door of the storage unit open to the secret staircase at the front of the boat. Still here, she thinks, just as she remembered it. No need for anyone to know how she found the secret door two summers ago—that she’d been hiding in that closet, crying, after Rebecca Ross accidentally-on-purpose spilled grape soda on her dress in front of Blake. This time around, Tali came prepared.

  She hiccups quietly, hoping Blake can’t hear. She doesn’t want him to think she’s only doing this because she’s had so many sips of the sugary liquor, which has made her tongue thick and her head feel soft on the inside.

  The front stairs rock beneath her as the boat lurches. She lets go of Blake’s hand and grabs the banister, laughing. Tabaldak is a huge lake—one of the biggest in the state—and far more impressive than dinky old Okahatchee, one of the many smaller ones that surround the big one like parasites. The waves here can be surprisingly strong.

  She feels a wash of nervousness. Can she actually pull this off? And will it even help? How do they know that re-creating the photo will bring them back to the present?

  And then again, does she even want to return? What’s she going to say to her da
d? What’s she going to do when they lose everything?

  “Should I trust you, Bender? Or is this some sort of suicide mission?” Blake asks.

  “Almost there,” she insists. “Do you wanna see it or not?”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the best view in the house right now,” Blake says, and she silently thanks Luce for lending her the short shorts. She may not have her boobs yet but at least her butt is decent. With every step toward the private deck, she’s more confident.

  “Patience, patience, boy!” she teases, marching up the final couple of steps and giving the door handle at the top a firm turn and shove.

  Sure enough, the trapdoor pops open and she emerges onto the private front deck, technically off-limits except to staff. Thankfully, no one’s out here to stop them.

  “Come on up,” she calls down to Blake, who skips a step and swings himself out onto the deck after her, brushing off his jeans.

  It’s much colder up at the very front of the boat—even in late August, the mountains have a way of cooling down the air at night. Out here on the lake, the wind is strong and wild. The water stretches out into the darkness beyond the ring of light formed by the boat, sloshing and whispering.

  When Tali swivels around to stare at Blake, some small part of her feels unhinged, like she’s wearing heels and the strap just broke. To steady herself, she puts her hand on his arm, where his Izod meets his biceps, lean and strong from years of tennis. Blake. This is Blake. The boy she has, on some level or another, held out for over two long years. And now he’s real again; she can touch him. He’s grinning at her, the breeze making his sandy-colored hair dance on his head. Not like his usual manicured perfection. And that just makes him even hotter.

  “I have to admit, this is pretty dope,” he’s saying now, looking around at their mini private deck. “I can’t believe the guys don’t know about this. And now it’s our last summer to take advantage of it.”

  “I know, right?” Tali says, the warmth spreading from her throat to her face. “I knew you would like it.”

  “You did, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at her and passes her what’s left of the schnapps. She holds her breath as she takes a swig.

  “Yeah. Great minds think alike,” she says, fiddling with her gold Taurus necklace, trying to channel New Tali. Trying to channel confidence. Spontaneously, a thought flashes through her mind—I wonder if he’s wearing the Batman boxers tonight. She doesn’t have the guts to ask.

  He grabs the belt loop on her short black shorts and draws her closer to him. “It’s funny,” he says.

  “What is?” Her heart is racing.

  “Every summer here, you discover something new.” His eyes trace her body, then return to her face.

  “Just when you thought camp was getting boring . . . ,” she fills in.

  “Exactly. You appear. In the nick of time. Bender. Who would’ve thought.” He smiles, wrapping his hand around her waist, and pulls her even closer so that now their hips are almost touching.

  Who would have thought. The words sting, just a little. She doesn’t think it’s that shocking. Hasn’t he noticed how she’s been looking at him all summer? Hasn’t she been looking at him all summer?

  But she doesn’t have time to process further, because now he takes one hand and cups the side of her jaw. His mouth is so close to hers she can smell the syrupy peach booze on his breath.

  “The little gymnast, all grown up,” he says, and kisses her jawline.

  A wave of heat rushes through her body and her lips tingle. She wants to pull his face to the right and kiss him hard on the mouth, but she resists, letting him take his time.

  “I like that,” she whispers.

  “What, this?” he asks, kissing her jaw again, while running his other hand down her back.

  “That, too. I was gonna say the fact that you call me Bender. It’s cute,” she says, smiling as she feels his hand trying to sneak up the inside of her T-shirt. He moves fast, she realizes. Faster than she expected, actually. Briefly, she wonders exactly how far he does expect this to go.

  He wraps her arms around his neck, then picks her up by the waist and sits her on the railing, so that their faces are at the exact same height. The boat bounces and a tinge of worry flickers through her. Her head feels mushy and her vision is a little blurry. She smiles at Blake, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too busy kissing her neck.

  She goes from feeling cold to feeling hot—too hot. It’s too much, too fast. He’s too urgent. She likes it better when she’s the one completely in control of the pace.

  “Hey, Blake, slow down,” she says, trying to push his shoulders gently back, to give herself some space.

  But he just groans and drags her hips closer to him so that her butt is balanced at a weird angle on the railing. “Come on, don’t be like that now,” he mutters, then goes in for a kiss.

  “Don’t be like what?” she asks, jerking back.

  And as she does so, he backs up, surprised, and she loses her grip on his shoulders. Before she has any idea what’s happening, the world gets pulled out from under her. There’s a sharp bang against her calf—the railing—and then she’s truly falling, falling through the cold spray of the waves against the boat, wind whipping into her face.

  Water slams into her and she goes under. It’s much rougher and colder than the water in Camp OK’s cozy swimming alcove. For a second, she thinks she must be dreaming. Then she gets the first, jarring gulp of lake water and instinct kicks in.

  She thrashes to the surface. From this angle, the boat appears enormous. She can’t see Blake. She can’t see anyone. “Help!” she shouts, waving an arm, not sure if she’s more scared or angry.

  Amid the waves—each about a foot or higher, rougher because the boat is still moving, she realizes, pushing the current out at her—she could swear she hears Blake call out, “Tanya!” And for one second, it occurs to her that he might not know her real name.

  Could that be why he calls her Bender all the time?

  “Blake!” she cries again.

  This. Is. Not. Happening.

  Then another figure emerges beside Blake. There’s some shouting followed by a loud splash, and soon, an arm is wrapping itself under her armpit and around her neck, holding her head above water.

  “Calm down. I gotcha, calm down,” a voice shouts in her ear.

  It doesn’t quite sound like Blake, but at this point she doesn’t care. She’s freezing, and completely and utterly overwhelmed with exhaustion—or mortification. Definitely one of the two.

  The guy—she can’t make out his face in the dark and sloshing water—has brought along one of those floaty rings, and he shoves it down around her head.

  “Can you hold on to this?” the voice demands. And then again, almost angry: “Can you hold on?”

  Tali nods, and then the guy dips under the water and reappears a couple of feet in front of her, pulling a lead rope. Gradually, she is brought closer and closer to the boat, though it takes much longer to cross the space than she expected. No wonder she was struggling. The waves are big tonight.

  The guy lifts her onto an emergency ladder, then waits until she has a solid grip on the rungs—which takes a while because it’s slippery and she feels drenched and awkward, her arms and legs shaking from the cold.

  After she emerges over the railing, bringing a puddle of lake water with her, a cheer goes up throughout the crowd. Tali feels dizzy—why are they applauding her? And then she realizes they’re clapping for the guy who saved her—the guy who is right now climbing over the side of the boat behind her.

  The lifeguard. Aka Tow Boy.

  Tali’s heart plummets deep into her gut, sloshing around down there with the schnapps she now regrets. Nausea creeps through her, threatening to make her hurl.

  “All right, all right, everyone,” Tow Boy shouts out, wringi
ng water out of his completely soaked shirt. “Show’s over. Go back to your games. Everything’s under control.”

  Still, it’s all he can do to carve a path through the thick crowd, with one arm around Tali’s back, holding her up. Tali keeps her head ducked. She doesn’t want to see anyone, especially not Blake.

  Suddenly Joy, Zoe, and Luce are all surrounding her, talking over one another in a jumble.

  Joy: “Are you all right? What can I get you?”

  Luce: “How did you fall? Were you scared?”

  Zoe: “That was crazy, even for you!”

  The lifeguard, aka Tow Boy, waves her friends away, then leads her to the staff room and deposits her on a narrow, scratchy couch.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m . . .” Sorry? An idiot? Shakily, she settles on “I’m fine,” completely unable to make eye contact.

  He sits down on the arm of the couch, his clothes dripping quietly onto the floor. It takes her a second to remember that he’s soaking wet because of her. Because he just had to go leaping into the freezing lake after her.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asks.

  Instinctively, Tali tenses. She hates when people ask if they can ask things. Don’t they realize they’re already asking something? But all she says is, “Sure, what?”

  He shrugs, looking away. “I’m just wondering why you were crying.”

  “Excuse me?” She shivers. The boat bobs beneath her.

  “Last night, by the Dumpsters. After you threw away that bear. I didn’t want to call you out on it, but I could tell you’d been crying. I was just wondering if there was something, like, bigger going on.” Even though he’s still gazing at the far door, she can feel his presence, as potently as if he were staring right at her.

  Tali’s chest feels like it’s been loaded with two tons of lead. “Why do you care? I told you, I’m fine.”

  Finally, he turns to face her. His green eyes are flecked with light. “That’s not what it looks like from my vantage point,” he says quietly. “Let me go get you some water. Stay there.”