As I Am

by AnnaLisa Grant

  “Listen, Kinley, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’d like to think we’re relatively close so I’m going to butt in,” she says bluntly. “I’m just saying that’s my point. What do you have in common with Cal? No offense, but nothing. Why are you wasting your time with him?”

  We walk up the steps to the dining call and swing the door open. I flip on the lights and Amy heads to the back corner where all of the arts and crafts supplies are kept. I still haven’t answered her, although I have a feeling I don’t need to. It’s evident to everyone, including me, that Cal and I aren’t a good fit.

  “I take it by your silence that you know I’m right,” she says with a coy smile.

  I sigh and give in to Amy’s inquisition. “He’s Cal Harper, and he’s interested in me of all people. How could I possibly give up so quickly on whatever it is that we’re doing?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Amy drops a box of clay onto the table with a loud thud.

  “Look at me, Amy. Now remember what Cal looks like. We’re a walking contradiction and yet, he wants to be with me … sort of … I think,” I stumble.

  “First of all, shut up with this ‘look at me crap.’ Not everyone sees you the way your sister does. I don’t give a rat’s ass what size you wear. I’ve never thought about it and I never will Secondly, it sounds like you’re wonderfully sure of this relationship.” Amy has mastered the art of the simultaneous sarcastic tone and look.

  “It’s not a relationship. I don’t think. I don’t know.” I sound like a moron. Folding my arms on the table I flop my head into them. “What am I going to do, Amy?”

  “Do you like Cal? I mean, really like him?” she asks, softening her tone.

  “Honestly? Not any more than as a friend. What is wrong with me? Cal Harper kisses me and I feel absolutely nothing. When I’m with him I’m at a loss for what to do or say … especially say. He’s really smart when he has to be, but when he doesn’t? I couldn’t drown in how shallow the water is that we wade in!”

  Amy looks at me with surprise. I don’t think she was expecting me to be so forthcoming. I don’t think I was expecting to be so forthcoming.

  “What?” I say, responding to Amy’s look.

  “Nothing. I’m just … This is … I’m feeling kind of proud of you,” she tells me.

  “Proud of me for what?”

  “I’m proud that you’ve realized on your own that you need to break things off with Cal.” Relaxed now, Amy continues sorting clay, of which I have provided zero help in doing. I stand up and move to the cabinet and get more clay to bring to the table.

  “I’m not breaking things off with him,” I tell her matter-of-factly.

  “What? Why not? What about everything you just said?” Amy drops another box of clay on the table, this time with a louder bang.

  “A girl like me can’t break up with a guy like Cal. It’s Cal Harper,” I tell her.

  “Sit down, Kinley.” Amy sits and I follow her instructions and lead, sitting next to her. She leans her elbow on the table and looks at me with a sort of motherly look. It makes me think of my mom, whom I have yet to email and tell about the fight Addy and I are having. She’s God knows where, so it’s not like she can step in and do anything. And I don’t want her emailing Dad or Christine about it. When it comes out exactly what Kinley said, Dad will say nothing because he thinks it’s a “girl thing” and Christine will reinforce Addy’s cruel concern. “You’ve still got a long way to go to get your sister’s manifesto out of your head. When are you going to get it, Kinley?”

  “I do get it.”

  “No, you don’t. You know, my mom would sit down with me and my sister and give us these random pep talks. She was a therapist, so … kind of an occupational hazard. No matter what topic she chose for that pep talk, she always ended it by saying ‘the direction of our lives is mostly determined by the voices we respond to.’ Then she’d say, ‘you have to choose the direction of your own life by choosing which of those voices you listen to.’ Kinley, until you shut those voices out, you’re going to keep thinking that you’re not worth enough to cut things off with someone like Cal. You’re going to keep playing along, listening to that voice in your head that tells you to be and act a certain way; the voice that says, ‘who do you think you are to break things off with the Cal Harper?’ Screw that voice, Kinley. You’re better than that. I think you know you’re better than that, but you’re just afraid to admit it because you’ve been told for so long that you’re not. I hope one day you’ll shut that voice out and listen to the voices that tell you how awesome you are; tell you that you’re one bad ass photographer with an inspiring future ahead of her; that you’re better than a shallow whatever you want to call it with Cal Harper or any other hot douchebag; that you’re Kinley effing Carmichael.”

  Amy watches me, waiting for my reply. I wish I could take everything she just said and soak it in, believing and living it every day for the rest of my life. I wish.

  “You don’t understand, Amy. I have spent my entire life knowing that I’m not as good as Addison. Addy took gymnastics when we were little. I tried to do it and I looked like an Oompa Loompa in the purple leotard. And, of course, Addy was much more agile than I was. Then there was the time when we were twelve and I wanted to try out for cheerleading along with Addy. That was quickly shot down after my mother didn’t want me to be embarrassed like I was with the gymnastics. And shortly after my stepmother came into the picture, she offered me a dollar for each pound I lost until I could wear Addy’s clothes. But … my favorite, really, are the two times I came home from school – once when I was fourteen and then again when I was sixteen – to find my stepmother and sister in the living room with brochures from a fat camp in California. Those are just the examples from my family. There’s no way I could even begin to explain the comparison I’ve had to deal with from other people,” I tell her.

  “No offense: your family sucks. But you, you are the one who determines how much credit you give any of their crap,” Amy says.

  I think for a minute, not sure of what to say next. I could try to explain the awkwardness that defines my life anytime I’m around Addy, but that seems like an impossible task. Everything Amy has said is right, but I just don’t know how to fix any of it.

  I lean forward and wrap my arms around Amy. “I wish I could flip a switch and exist as the person I want to be. I want to be that strong but … it’s hard. Everything I thought was true about how my sister related to me was a lie. I trusted and believed her. But … while I may still be mad at her, she is my sister. I can’t go on forever not forgiving her.”

  “Forgiving her doesn’t mean you continue letting her treat you the way she does,” Amy says with a cautionary tone. I don’t know what to say in response to that. She’s right, but Addy and I have always just moved on. I’ve been holding out as long as I can but I don’t think I can keep Addy at a distance much longer. I actually kind of miss her.

  “And then there’s Cal …” I muse.

  “You don’t even like him like that. Why don’t you just tell him that you two make better friends?” Amy suggests.

  “It seems weird, like winning the lottery and refusing the money,” I tell her.

  “That’s only because your definition of the lottery has been determined by your sister,” she says with a convincing smile.

  I smile at the absurdity of it all and feel a physical weight lift off my shoulders. I still don’t know if or when I’ll be strong enough, but it doesn’t seem quite as impossible as it once did. I take a deep, cleansing breath and give a short, breathy laugh of release. “Thanks for butting in.”

  “Any time!” She smiles.

  The sun continues to set as I follow Amy’s lead in organizing tomorrow’s craft with clay. An orange glow spreads over the camp and flows into the dining hall, distracting me more than once from my task. It’s gorgeous and I wish I had my camera. There are some amazing rays of the setting sun streaming through t
he windows, catching dust particles in their beam. Those are some of my favorite types of shots because they capture what is unseen to the naked eye … which is what I wish Addy would do with me.

  Actually, it’s not necessarily about Addy. What I want, really want, is to be seen, for someone to look at me and see what can’t be seen … the way I think that maybe Miller sees me. But, after this conversation with Amy, maybe the seeing me for who I am should start with me?

  Amy and I chat about various things as the sky grows darker, making the dining hall lights seem to glow brighter. She tells me about wanting to finish her business degree but is seriously considering becoming a flight attendant. We talk about all the places in the world we want to visit, and I tell her about some of my mom’s travels and how I can’t wait to meet her somewhere out there and travel the world with her. It’s nice talking about my mom without the eye-rolling that Addy usually gives me.

  We’ve just about got everything in order when we both hear and see Cal and Miller coming from the direction of the lake. It’s dark at first with only the spots of their flashlights shining through the trees, but then they make their way into the flood light beaming from the corner of the roof. They’re arguing about something and being followed by three boys, and Miller has someone huddled under his arm. Oh my God, it’s Margaret!

  “Hey! What’s going on?” I call as Amy and I fly out of the dining hall. “Margaret? Are you okay?” She rushes to me and when I pull her away for a moment to look at her I see that her button-down top is completely unbuttoned. “What happened?”

  “The boys were being boys,” Cal says by way of explanation. “Miller here clearly doesn’t understand that.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “The boys had Margaret against a tree, taking turns feeling her up,” Miller says, shooting daggers from his eyes at the boys.

  “She was there willingly,” one of the boys pipes in. I look at all three boys and recognize them from the night I caught them in the dining hall with that weird leather-bound book. I examine the boys further and see that one of them is clearly hiding the book under his shirt.

  “Shut your mouth. You don’t talk,” Miller barks.

  “Well she was,” Cal says in defense of the boys.

  “Does she look like she was having a good time? When I walked up, she already had tears streaming down her face you ass!” Miller gets right up in Cal’s face and an electric bolt of nervousness shoots through me. Cal is a big guy, almost twice Miller’s size. If they get into a fight, Cal could kill him.

  “She just got a little nervous out there. She’s okay, right, Kin?” Cal asks. All eyes are on me as I hold this scared little girl in my arms. Cal still doesn’t comprehend what’s happening here. Margaret is hiccupping from her heavy, muffled crying and my shirt is getting soaked with her tears.

  “Um, well … she’s deathly afraid of the dark. Especially the dark woods.” I know I should say something else, but somehow this is all I can squeak out. Amy widens her eyes at me and I know exactly what she’s screaming at me in her head: “This is your chance, Kinley! What better out is there than this! He totally doesn’t get that this girl is scarred for life!”

  Miller furrows his brow and looks at me as if to say Is that all you have to say?

  “Why are you taking this so personally, man? They were just doing what kids do. We’ve all played a little doctor!” Cal says, drawing Miller’s attention back to him.

  “This is not what kids do,” Miller begins and motioning to Margaret.

  “Geez! Who invited the grandpa?” one of the boys says sarcastically.

  Miller squeezes his eyes shut and balls his hands into fists. His nostrils flare and he stretches his neck to either side. He could be calming himself down, or he could be readying himself for a fight. He opens his eyes and composes himself before he takes a step toward the boys.

  “You stay away from this girl. And if I find out you’re even flirting with another girl, I swear to God I will make it so you wish hadn’t stepped foot on this camp.” Miller’s words are strong and fierce, making it easy to surmise his deeper meaning. He turns and looks at me again, this time shaking his head, before he leaves us all standing there in the wake of his fury.

  “What is up with that guy? He’s way too intense for me. He needs to lighten up,” Cal says. “Alright, boys, head back to your cabin and try to stay out of trouble.” Cal’s words have no real meaning. In fact, they’re condescending and completely dismissive of the impact this event has had on Margaret. She hasn’t moved an inch in my arms and only now is her crying really subsiding. “I’m going to head over to the bonfire. Everyone good here?”

  Amy and I nod with blank faces, still unable to believe how unaware and insensitive Cal has been. He walks away and disappears behind a building. I look at Amy looking at me, waiting for me to say something.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “Seriously?” she says in astonishment.

  “Okay. I get it. But we have other things to focus on right now,” I say, tilting my head toward Margaret. I begin to slowly move her out of my arms. At first she doesn’t seem like she’s going to move, but then lifts her head and begins to wipe her eyes. “You okay? Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  We move back and sit on the steps to the dining hall. Amy runs inside and gets a bottle of water from the kitchen and brings it back for Margaret. She takes a few sips before she’s calm enough to talk.

  “Chad, the boy with the blond hair … he’s been acting like he likes me for a week. He would sit next to me at meals, and sometimes he even let his friends go ahead of him so he could stay back with me,” she begins to explain. “But then he was mean to me and totally ignored me on the hike the other day. He acted like he didn’t even know me. I walked almost the whole trail alone because no one would talk to me after Chad told them I was weird.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want to go on the hike when I suggested it?” Margaret nods. “So what happened tonight?” I ask while Margaret takes another few sips from the water bottle.

  “He asked me to meet him down by the canoes. He said he wanted to apologize for how he had treated me. When I got there he was alone, but the other boys showed up almost right away. And then …” She begins to get choked up, so I decide to ask her some ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions so I can get a better idea of what happened without upsetting her.

  “Did Chad or one of the other boys unbutton your shirt?” I ask softly.

  Margaret shakes her head ‘no.’

  “Did you?”

  She nods ‘yes.’

  “Did you do it because he told you to?” I have a feeling he used phrases like “If you really like me, you’ll do this for me.” Douchebag in training.

  Margaret nods her head ‘yes’ again and I think I might throw up. Not just at how disgusted I am with these four boys, but with Cal. That he would think that this behavior was just “boys being boys” is appalling.

  “Did the boys take turns touching you?”

  She quickly shakes her head ‘no’, making her hair flop around and into her face. She’s probably glad for the covering.

  “Margaret, I have to ask you one last question. It’s the most difficult one to ask.” I look at Amy. She makes a tight line with her lips, knowing what I have to ask. “Did Chad, or any of the boys, make you do anything else you didn’t want do? I know it’s difficult, but you can tell us. We’re here to help.”

  Her answer comes slower this time and I’m afraid of how she’s going to respond. She finally shakes her head ‘no’ and I let out a sigh, not realizing I had been holding my breath.

  “Okay. Now, Margaret, I want you to listen to me. Are you listening to me?” I ask. She nods just enough for me to recognize. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Chad is a jerk and not worth another second of your time. I’ll tell Mrs. Fellows and‒‒”

  “No! Don’t tell her. Don’t tell anyone!” Margaret’s head snaps up and her eyes are w
ide and alert. “Please. It’s too embarrassing. Please don’t tell anyone,” she pleads.

  Amy and I look at each other like the other one will know what to do. I think I should tell someone. You always think you’ll know what to do in a situation like this, but it’s not so black and white. By Margaret’s account it sounds like a terrible situation, but I’m not sure if there’s anything that anyone did wrong. Being a douchebag and tricking a girl into thinking you like her so you can cop a feel in front of your creepy friends isn’t against the law. It’s despicable and gross, but not against the law.

  “Alright. Let’s just sleep on it tonight. Things usually look clearer after a good night’s sleep,” Amy says.

  “I agree. Let’s get you back to your cabin, okay?” I stand up and bring Margaret with me. We walk back to her cabin, where the other girls are still up. Seeing how upset she is, they rush to her side, which makes my heart literally skip a beat with joy.

  The girls ask why Margaret is upset and she looks to me to give them some kind of answer. Thinking quickly, I tell them about Chad and the other boys playing a mean trick on Margaret, and if they know what’s good for them, they’ll stay away from those boys. The girls agree almost in unison at what a jerk Chad is and vow to treat him and his goons like they are the walking plague. Margaret smiles a little and I think about how far they’ve come since that first, cruel exchange on their arrival day. It’s nice to know Margaret has her own team of friends to surround her with love and support. Kind of like how I feel about Amy.

  “I need to talk to Miller,” I tell Amy as we walk back to The Lodge.

  “It’s Cal you need to talk to … so you can kick his ass to the curb!” she says emphatically. “I can’t believe you didn’t dump him right then and there after that display of douchebaggery.”

  “I think I was just stunned with the whole situation. But I’m more concerned about the way Miller looked at me. It was like he was disgusted. He’s right to feel that way. I should have said more. I should have done more.” Disappointment rages inside me. I can’t believe I didn’t stand up for Margaret. I can’t believe I didn’t tell Cal he was being a chauvinistic pig.