My gaze flickers.
Amelia Bright ruined me and I can’t look at her.
But I can’t look away either.
***
Bash: It’s official. I’m a gator.
I send the text to Seth and look back at the acceptance letter in my hand. I’m a little shocked, but it’s all here in black and white. I got into the University of Florida starting the summer session and not only that, I qualified for financial aid. Between that and the money I’m now bringing in from my t-shirt designs, I have no arguments left. I’m going to college.
My mind starts racing with everything I have to do before June. I look around the cramped house thinking that I’ll have to start looking for renters. I’ll also need to see about getting boxes and a small moving truck. Oh, and I guess I need to figure out exactly where I’m moving to. Family housing was my first thought, but if Seth wants to keep on living with us, I can always look at apartments or cheap houses.
“Bash?” Carter pops his head out of his room. “Have you seen my folder? I have to look at my spelling words and I can’t find it.”
I fold the letter and tuck it into my back pocket. “I think you left it in the kitchen, bud. Actually, why don’t you come on out here for a minute.”
Carter looks confused, but he complies. “Is everything okay?”
Like Seth, he’s been worried about me for obvious reasons.
“Yeah, everything is fine. I was just thinking about doing something we haven’t done in a while.”
“What is it?”
The start of a smile turns my mouth. “A shark hunt.”
His eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yep. I think it’s the perfect day, don’t you?” Carter nods enthusiastically and I say, “Go grab your boots and bucket and I’ll get the folder. I can read you the spelling words on the way.”
“Okay!”
Thirty minutes later, we’re tumbling in the truck down the dirt road that takes us out to Blackwater Creek. It’s a fine spring day in the Lowlands and the sun is beating down through the tree canopy and speckling the pavement with its honeyed light. Carter is in the backseat talking about school and making predictions about the upcoming hunt for shark’s teeth.
“Does this mean that you’re not sad anymore that Amelia doesn’t want to be your girlfriend?” he asks me.
“Who told you that?” I ask, looking in the rearview mirror.
He shrugs. “I’m seven but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
Fair enough. My eyes go back to the road. “I’m still sad, but I’m getting better.”
Carter nods. “Seth says you have heartburn.”
I laugh. “I think you mean heartbreak.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“Not quite.”
He thinks about that, shuffling the information away for later and says, “My teacher was sad two weeks ago, but that was because her pet rabbit died.”
“That is sad,” I say and shake my head. “Carter, I’m sorry if I’ve been out of it. I think… I think I’m turning a corner and I actually have something to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?”
“How would you feel about moving this summer?”
His mouth drops open in surprise. “You mean, leave Green Cove? Where would we go?”
“Believe it or not, I got into a college down in Florida.”
“In Florida?”
I nod. “And I’m hoping, if you agree that it’s a good idea, we could go there.”
He’s quiet for a while. “I heard they’ve got Disney World down there. Can we go?”
My eyes still on the road, I smile. “We might be able to make that happen.”
“What about our house?” he asks me.
I give a half shrug. “We’ll rent it to someone else and find a new place to live.”
“But won’t Aunt Denise and Uncle Mike miss us if we move to Florida?”
I’m not expecting him to say that and it throws me for a bit of a loop. “I don’t know. Do you miss them?”
He chews on his bottom lip and nods.
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to tell Carter. Things with my aunt and uncle are still a disaster. I’m biding my time, hoping that in May the judge assigned to the case will examine all the circumstances and honor my mother’s wishes. I haven’t looked beyond that—to a future without any family at all—or let myself wonder what that might mean for Carter. “I’m not sure, but we’ll try to work something out, okay?”
He nods. More lip biting. “And what about all of our stuff? And Jinx?”
I hadn’t really considered the cat, but I know we can figure it out. We can figure out anything as long as we stick together the way Mama wanted. All your tomorrows start here.
“We’ll take all of our stuff with us and find a place that lets us have a cat,” I tell him with certainty. “Anything else you’re worried about back there, hoss?”
He looks out the window and by the time he turns back to me, he’s almost smiling. “Do we get to pack up Seth too?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Amelia
When we were young, Daphne and I had this game. One of us would be blindfolded and the other would be the leader—in charge of directing and giving orders so that the person with the blindfold didn’t bang into walls or fall down the stairs and break a leg or anything like that.
Occasionally, if Daphne was the leader and she wanted to make the game really tricky, she’d go for minutes without speaking, hoping that I’d be able to follow the sounds of breathing or just understand intrinsically how to get to her. I hated that—that feeling of not knowing the right way, of being lost and sightless, my arms held out and my sister hovering somewhere just beyond my reach. And yet, that’s how I feel now—confused and waiting alone in the dark for instructions that never seem to come.
Over the last five weeks, I’ve spent more time in my bed than anyplace else. The rest of the house is off-limits because all it does is remind me of Daphne and how I failed her. And school is out too, because there I’m faced with Sebastian and all the mistakes I made with him. No way. What’s the point anyway? It’s better to stay here in bed, where I can shut everything and everyone out. If only I could—
The door to my bedroom suddenly creaks open and interrupts my brooding.
My breathing changes, but I don’t bother to open my eyes because I know exactly who it is from the sounds her feet make.
“Hi, Audra.”
The footsteps pause. “What are you doin’?”
“Sleeping.”
Audra snorts. “Sleepin’?”
My eyes stay closed and I keep perfectly still. “Yep.”
“You can’t be asleep.”
I feel my bed sink as she sits down beside me. “Why not?”
“Well… you’re talkin’ so I know for a fact you’re not asleep. Not only that, but it’s lunchtime and it’s your birthday.”
“See, I think that’s even more reason to be asleep,” I mumble.
“Amelia.”
“Uh-huh?”
“I let you sulk all the way through spring break,” she says.
“Uh-huh.”
She prods me with one hand and sighs heavily. “You don’t answer my calls or texts. And you barely come to school anymore.”
“The teachers don’t care what I do and I prefer my bed. I’m thinking of having this made my permanent address.”
“You can’t spend your whole life in bed.”
“Really? Watch me.”
Another sigh and then, “What am I goin’ to do with you?”
She lays all the way down beside me. I feel her breath on my face and reluctantly open my eyes. Audra is there, right in front of my nose looking straight at me with her clear blue eyes.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” she says back. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay? My body feels bruised and my mind is as frigid as an arctic lake. “Umm… My heart feels like it’
s being split in two and put through a meat grinder.”
Her mouth curves. “So you’re sayin’ you’re great?”
Defiant, I swallow back the tears gathering in my eyes and nod my head.
She fastens her eyes on mine. “Really now?”
I can’t do it anymore. Awash with loneliness and regret, I close my eyes and surrender to the tears. Audra wraps her arms around my middle and hugs me.
“I’m eighteen today,” I tell her through my sobs, my eyelids fluttering.
Audra nods in agreement.
“And Daphne… Daphne is never going to get older. She’ll never have another adventure or fall in love or get married or have babies. She’s forever seventeen and it’s my fault!”
“How is it your fault?”
I suck in a breath and try to think of how to tell her in words. “I should have fought harder! I should have known about Spencer and—” Hiccups overtake me and I can’t continue.
“You could say the same for me, couldn’t you? And do you blame me?”
I shake my head.
“Do you blame Daphne?”
I’m appalled. “Of course not.”
“Then your theory is crap. You’ve fooled yourself into believin’ that the rules are different for you than they are for everyone else.”
“But it’s not fair,” I moan.
“Damn straight it’s not fair! But sometimes we just have to say screw fair and right and move on with what we’ve got. I mean, look around—there’s no customer service desk here. There’s no place you can stomp back to and demand a full refund or ask to make an exchange. Bad store policy or not, this world is all we’ve got. And it’s flawed and confusin’ and really stinkin’ hard sometimes, but it’s ours.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it’s what’s real, Amelia. I’m what’s real. You’re what’s real. And while you’re barricaded up here in your tower, the earth is down there movin’ on without you. And I swear on all that is holy that no one would hate that more than Daphne.”
Audra is right. I hate that she’s right, but she is and I know it. And with her arms around me, I cry big, gulping sobs until I’m so hollowed and emptied out that I don’t think I could cry anymore even if I wanted do.
A long time later, Audra whispers, “Let’s do somethin’. Let’s go someplace.”
My hair is a tangled bird’s nest and my face is puffy and damp. “Where would we go?”
Audra takes a breath. “I have an idea. I also have a bottle of wine I stole from my parents’ stash and a bag of Red Vines.”
“You have Red Vines?”
She shrugs. “It’s your birthday. I figured I’d go all out and we could binge on processed sugar and stolen wine and tell the rest of the world to kiss our go-to-hells.”
I laugh and Audra stands from the bed and tugs on my arm. “Come on, Sugartits. I think you’ve wallowed enough for one lifetime, don’t you?”
***
This is weird,” I say.
“Why is it weird?”
I roll over, the warm grass crunching beneath my arms and look at my friend. Her long hair is fanned out around her like a golden mane.
“It’s like two in the afternoon,” I say, “and we’re at the cemetery eating candy and drinking white wine straight out of the bottle.”
Audra cocks her sunglasses and gestures to the marble headstone with Daphne’s name etched in long and thin block letters.
“Well, it’s your birthday and it’s her birthday.”
“So what? You’re like a matchmaker for the dead?”
“If that’s what you want to call it.” We both laugh and then get quiet. In the distance I hear the beating of wings as a bird seeks a higher place in the trees that border the cemetery.
After a few minutes, I tell Audra, “I haven’t been here. Not since the day of the funeral.”
She says, “I come here a lot actually.”
“You do?”
She nods. “I know Daphne’s not really here, stuck in some graveyard with a bunch of old and crusty dead people, but it’s nice to think I’m talkin’ to her all the same.”
“What do you say?”
“I just tell her stuff. Mostly the dumb stuff, you know, about school and tennis and my parents.” A short pause. “And you, Amelia. I tell her about you.”
Intrigued, I prop myself up higher on my elbow. “Like what?”
Audra cants her head. “Oh, I tell her the basics—how I think you’re doing, how you broke up with Bash, and how sad you’ve been.” She pauses. “And I tell her how much I miss you. How much I miss you both.”
My throat burns and my eyes fill with tears, but for once not because I’m sad—not really. I’m all right. And it’s a strange, rattling and screwed-up feeling, but it’s one I’m hoping to hold on to for a little bit longer.
I peel a Red Vine from the bag that Audra brought and lean back in the grass and stare up at the shifting, bleached-out clouds and the swatches of blue sky overhead. “Do you think she can hear you?”
“I don’t know. I hope so and sometimes I even think she gives advice.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, chewing.
“Yeah.”
“What would she say just now if she could?”
Audra ponders this for a moment. “She’d probably tell you to get your butt in gear and get your life and your boyfriend back.”
I laugh out loud. “And how should I go about doing that? There’s no way Sebastian is going to give me another chance—not after the way I royally screwed everything.”
And then I tell Audra the truth. I tell her about that cold and perfect night in March, when everything had fit into place, and about the morning when I’d pulled at the seams and watched it fall apart.
“So you see,” I say, finishing gloomily, “there’s not a chance.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“How do you figure?”
She shrugs noncommittally. “I just think that for some people, the story is never over.”
Unsure how to respond to that, I focus on the other piece of advice. “As for getting back my life, that’s out too. I didn’t follow up on any of my college acceptance letters and now it’s probably too late. And I’m not even sure that’s what I want anymore.” I give a heavy sigh. “I honestly don’t know what I want.”
“Okay, so college isn’t happenin’ just now. Let’s not even get that far, Amelia. You have a whole summer ahead of you just sittin’ there waitin’ to be enjoyed.”
“So?”
She makes a face and scoffs. “So?”
I laugh. “What are you saying?”
“I’m sayin’ that there’s always you and me and the open road.”
“What do you mean?” I ask in wonder. “Like your road trip? You’re not serious… I thought that was off?”
“The thing is, I still have to make it out to San Jose State by the end of August. I can go by myself and just drive straight on through. Or,” she says, pushing the sunglasses onto her head so that I can see her eyes, “you can come with me and we can hold on to all those plans Daphne made for the best summer of our lives.”
My mind races. I think of the little pieces of colored paper swirled across the map in my sister’s room like a rowdy invitation. Then I think of sunrises and sunsets I haven’t lived through and of songs I haven’t yet heard, and of inside jokes and warm kisses and hot chocolates I still have to drink and the kaleidoscope of jangling late-night stars I want to see. In a small voice I confess, “I’m scared.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Of living my whole life without her.”
“You know what Daphne would have said about being scared.”
I turn my face toward the great big bowl of blue sky and I sigh through my nose. “If it scares you then it’s probably worth it.”
Beside me, Audra holds up the wine bottle and drinks down the last of it. “Cheers to that.”
***
When the sun has sunk below the trees and the light is nearly gone, Audra drops me off at home. I tell her goodbye and I walk through the front doors and up the stairs. This time, when I step into my sister’s room, it’s not to fall apart, it’s to listen.
I move slowly among Daphne’s stuff and my fingers brush over the music box Grandma Rose got her for our seventh birthday. I pause to wind it and watch the tiny pink ballerina spin in circles to Fur Elise.
Then I stop at her desk and I touch the Polaroid camera she found at the thrift store and my eyes glide up and over the paper flags she carefully placed across the map of the United States. There are quotes scattered across the rest of the bulletin board—phrases she cut out of magazines or saw in books. As I read them, I realize Daphne wanted adventure for sure, but mostly she wanted to simply live. She wanted to be happy and listen to music and laugh with her friends.
I pick the camera up and turn it over and I think about how I always had plans for this big and meaningful life I was going to live someday. I never stopped to consider that someday may never come. But that’s the truth, isn’t it? There are no guarantees. You don’t know when you might take your last breath. Things happen. You could get in a car accident tomorrow, or choke on a chicken bone twenty minutes from now, or drown in a swimming hole. You could go to sleep one night and never wake to see the morning light slip in through your window blinds. Or someone could take your life away from you in a blink of an eye just because they can.
My sister is dead and I will go on missing her forever. That’s the kind of hurt that can’t be ignored or forgotten or buried underground because it’s inside of me, stretching wide like an ocean. And I can stand here, always clinging to the shore and looking out over the water and wondering what lies on the other side, or I can try to find a way across.
Here in Daphne’s room, surrounded by all her things, I know with biting clarity exactly what she would say. She’d tell me to build myself a freaking boat.
I almost laugh out loud as I look back to the map and let the thoughts start to boomerang around my head. I’m going to go on that trip with Audra. I’m going to find adventure and big, wide open spaces, but first there are some things that I have to do here.
The Bright Effect Page 27
