Summer's End

by Sally Henson

  Tobi yells up at us. “It's the slowest one in the quarry.” I snort as if that makes this any less terrifying. I think I'm finally getting a grip here, though.

  Lane turns his head toward me. “It's like being on a see-saw when we were kids.”

  Yeah, it’s kind of like that. “Except our feet don't touch the ground.” His body shakes with laughter. I relax my arms a bit but squeeze my legs tighter to the beam. It's still a rush. “Woohoo!” I scream. “I did it!” Tobi's yelling and clapping, jumping up and down. Lane has a one-armed death grip on my arms to help me feel safe, and he's laughing with me.

  Lane lets out a guttural howl into the night, proclaiming we're alive and young and in the moment. It's kind of attractive when he does that—in a primal way, I guess. Tobi follows suit. After I calm down, my arms loosen more, signaling to Lane he can loosen his grip, too.

  He crooks his neck back at me, “How is it?”

  “Not exactly as I thought it might be. But risky enough.”

  “Does it feel like riding a buckin' bronc or a mechanical bull?” Tobi yells up at me.

  “I don't know. I've never ridden either.” We all laugh at the thought of me and any of these options. “I can't believe I'm riding a pump jack. This is so crazy and stupid.”

  “All right, I'm going to move behind you. You have to see the view from the front.” I'm a little more confident than I was climbing up, but still scared. Lane is back on the ladder. “Scoot up.” I slowly pull myself forward, sliding across the beam. He swings his leg over and slides close, timing it on the up angle. The warmth of his body is pressed against my back. He leans in closer with his cheek against the right side of my cheek and says, “It's cool, right?”

  “It’s too dark. There's nothing to see.”

  He nuzzles against me. “Mmm, you're right, the view is much better from here.” I manage to elbow him without falling off and bring out a laugh instead of pain. “Imagine what it would be like with a full moon. We could see clear across the quarry,” he whispers in my ear.

  “You guys look like you belong together.” Tobi’s eyes glow from the light of the lantern.

  We don't need to go that direction. “I think it's your turn,” I yell back at her. I crane my neck back to Lane. “Do you think you can get me down from here?”

  “Yes, but I'd rather stay right where we are.” Lane starts to say something else but decides against it and climbs off the beam. He talks me down to the ladder.

  From the bottom rung of the ladder, I jump back to the ground. “Whew, my legs feel a little wobbly.” I straighten up. “It's your turn, Tobi.”

  She hands me the flashlight and her phone. “I'm taking this beast by the horns.” Her eyes are narrowed slits as if she's about to climb on the back of a bull.

  “You're such a goof.” I giggle at her demeanor. “You should be an actor, not a cattle baroness or a neuroscientist.” She turns and gives me the cowboy evil eye. “Lane should go with you.”

  “You can follow me up the ladder in case I need you, but I want to do it myself.” Tobi is so much gutsier than I am. She's gotten kicked by cows, charged by a territorial bull, shocked by electric fence, and bucked off a horse. Yet she just gets up and keeps going.

  “Here we go!” Tobi climbs up the ladder like a monkey, leaving Lane behind. At the top, she grips the lip with her hands on both sides of the steel beam. Then, bam! She's sitting high in the saddle yelling, “Yee-haw!” Lane doesn't even bother going all the way up the ladder. He shimmies down and stands next to me.

  “Look at her.” I shake my head, and my heart is full of respect and admiration.

  “Fearless.” Lane puts his arm around my shoulders like a buddy.

  She's gripping with one hand and raising her other arm up like she's riding a bronc or bull. She hollers and carries on. “Take a picture, Lane.”

  I pull her phone out of my back pocket handing it over to him. “It may be too dark.” Aim and flash. He takes three and looks back at them. We can sort of make them out, but they're too dark, and blurry.

  “Better off not having any evidence.” I’m relieved they didn't turn out. Not that Tobi would say I was riding the pump jack, but people like to talk. And gossipers always infer information that may or may not be true if it's juicy enough to get someone in trouble or make fun of. Since Tobi and I are best friends, they assume we do everything together. And Stacey would find some way to get it to my Dad, again. “Wait, what time is it?”

  “Uh oh, we better get you home, it's twenty till twelve.” Lane shouts to Tobi we need to go. She signals in understanding and begins her climb down. He speaks quietly so that Tobi can’t hear him. “We're going for a walk Sunday, by ourselves, and you’re going to tell me everything you've been holding back in that pretty little mind of yours.” He put his hand on the back of my shoulders and neck. “Whatever it is, we need honesty.” He slides his hand down to my lower back. “And you’re going to make amends for your earlier behaviors tonight.” As soon as Tobi hits the ground he motions her to the truck.

  “That's what you think.” I lock elbows with Tobi, and we skip on our way back to the truck. “Come on, I don't want to be late. I'll be grounded for weeks, and I won't be able to see either of you.”

  Lane pulls in my drive at eleven fifty-one. “Thank you for not making me late.” I give Tobi a big hug. “Have a good time at the fair. Maybe you'll meet a cool guy there.”

  “Nah. I doubt it. I don't think I really want to date anyone, anyway. But it's always fun to look.” I can tell she's looking forward to it. “I'll see you in a week.”

  “I'll miss you at practice.” I sigh.

  I point to Lane's door, and he lets me out giving my hand a squeeze in the dark. “Goodnight.” I hear the longing-to-stay in his voice. I squeeze his hand in response. “See you Sunday.” I don’t want him to leave either.

  “Thanks, you guys, for everything. The surprises were great.” I turn and sashay toward the house, still elated by tonight’s activities.

  Tobi leans out the window. “I knew you'd never guess.”

  Lane waits for me to open the door before he backs out. I'm sure he would prefer to drop Tobi off first and then me, but time flew by tonight. It’s better this way, I'm sure I know what he's decided the penance should be.

  13

  I find a tree in the park that overlooks the little pond and sit down beside it. The pool is closed for it’s evening break. Instead of spending money at the diner, I opted to bring a sandwich and some water. The neighbor across from the pond just finished mowing her yard as I walked from the pool to this spot. There are a couple moms and three little girls playing on the swings at the other end of the park. It’s quiet. I pull my knees up and lean back against the rough bark of the tree and take a deep breath, smelling the fresh cut grass. My eyes graze across the pond through the woods where Lane had taken me for a picnic lunch. I chuckle to myself at the three pieces of paper folded into tents he put on his dash. So sweet.

  I rummage through my bag for my notebook and flip it open to the middle. At the top of the page I write, College and begin listing, in order, the colleges I want to attend, including any details I know about them. Each location holds an adventure I surely wouldn’t forget, but most of all, a degree in marine science. My spine stiffens with determination to hold on to my plans for college, for the future.

  Eckerd College is my first choice. I'm excited about this place. I met a boy at Lane’s graduation party who goes to school there. I’d never heard of it before, but it’s amazing. It’s in St. Petersburg, Florida. Ah, the sunshine state. Plus, it’s right on the beach of the Gulf of Mexico. Exactly where I want to be and plenty far enough away from the gossipy Fanigers. St. Petersburg has a tropical climate—a must have, in my opinion. They have a hands-on curriculum and a fleet of vessels at their disposal. Even some of the faculty takes on summer and winter research in the Caribbean. They even offer students positions as assistants. My teeth graze my bottom lip as the corner
s of my mouth lift. How amazing would that be? It's a private school, so the tuition would be outrageous. But, it isn’t any higher than public universities for students who live out of state. I have to go here.

  My number two choice is further away, which is a plus, but the tuition is higher. Oregon State University is not located on the beach and Oregon isn't the warm Gulf Coast either. My lips lose their curve and spread into a thin line. Their program isn’t as hands-on as Eckerd. My shoulders tighten in rebellion to OSU being listed at number two. Hurricanes are a rarity on the West Coast. Hurricanes would become part of my life and work if I went to Florida. Marine scientists are busy when a hurricane hits, assessing the waters, animals, plant life, and things like that afterward. OSU is still a good program, but it’s not the warm, beachy atmosphere I crave.

  My third choice has the best weather and is a little bit cheaper. I waver back and forth between OSU and this one changing my mind on their rankings. It would be a dream come true to go to the University of Hawaii at Hilo. They’re a hands-on program too and have some technical electives within their program. I might like the technical part and the mapping. I’m not sure.

  U of H at Hilo is close to the beach. Getting as far away from this place as possible is a goal, but some distances may be too far—at least for my first year away from Mom and Dad. I'd have to fly, and I wouldn't be able to come home on the holidays. I get butterflies thinking about being there. I mean, wow, Hawaii. But with travel expenses, it would cost too much, unless I was offered a full-ride scholarship. I sigh, and my shoulders slump, tearing a piece of my resolve. Dad might disown me if I move far away and major in marine science. Maybe he’s testing me to see how serious I am. Coming home for the holidays may not be an option, after all is said and done. I shake my head and close my eyes. Getting as far away from this place as possible is a goal, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough. Especially if Lane stays at Eastern.

  But Florida and Eckerd College is so ideal. I take a deep breath and rest my head on my knees, gazing at the pond and trees. Lane would probably like Florida. Salt-water fishing is supposed to be phenomenal. Next time I'm at Tobi's, I need to see if Eckerd offers degrees in resource management. Oooh, I sit up straight and scribble a note, thinking maybe an environmental science degree might work for him to be a conservation officer. I'll check that out, too.

  It would be nice to run with him on the beach in the mornings before class. He’d have a deep tan after spending so many days in the surf and sun. His sandy hair would probably turn bleached blond. My insides melt like butter, imagining how nice he’d look. We could study together, eat supper, and take a break to watch the sun sink into the ocean. I could handle long walks on the beach, strolling hand in hand, until the moon reflects in the water. Hmm.

  My hand sketches his eyes across the top of the page. How beautiful they’d be in the evening light after the sun disappears beyond the ocean when he gets that look, and his lips—.

  Regan! You idiot! You're supposed to be focusing on a game plan for your future, not daydreaming about Lane or his physical attributes and attractions. Get a grip!

  I shake my head and blink my eyes profusely. Daydreaming is not helping anything. Lane is stirring up feelings that I'm not sure exactly what to do with. I like it, but I shouldn't like it. There's no way we can go to the same college. We’d end up married the first year or do something equally as stupid. And how would that work out? It wouldn't.

  These thoughts are crazy. I'm really getting tired of arguing with myself.

  Dad can't tell me what to do anymore if I'm married, though.

  Stop it. It won't work. I can't handle a distraction like that. College will be hard enough on its own.

  Lane did say it didn't matter where he was or what he did, as long as we're together. I remember his plan. Join him at college. Study together, eat together, and hang out together.

  He also talked about working in Illinois or Colorado. That’s not the coast.

  I trace my finger around the eyes I sketched in my notebook and snort. They don't do him justice.

  I slam the notebook closed and stuff it in my bag. I eat my sandwich and drink my water. I try like mad to think of work, school, gossip hounds, anything but him.

  All evening, I'm distracted by Lane and his attributes. Working at the pool, driving home, it's nothing but Lane's stupid mesmerizing eyes, his lousy soft tender touch, his idiotic amorous inerrant lips, and his rotten honest vulnerability.

  Walking through the door of the house, I hang up the keys, throw my bag on the table, and sulk to my room without saying a word to anyone.

  Reading isn’t working either. I’m about take a shower and go to bed when I hear two knocks on the door and Mom pokes her head in. “What's the matter?”

  “Nothing.” My eyes are narrowed and frowning. “I'm just in a bad mood.”

  “Something had to happen to put you in a bad mood. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?”

  I shake my head.

  “Okay. I'm here if you change your mind.”

  “Thanks.”

  I slept last night, but it wasn't enough to forget about the way I feel every time I think of Lane now. This is good and not good. I didn’t want things to change between us. But I can’t seem to help it. Butterflies flit in my stomach—all dreamy and everything. At least I'm not in a bad mood this morning. I'll get ready for church before going in for breakfast.

  After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I get out the curling iron and turn it on. While it's heating, I decide to put on a little eye makeup. I don't wear makeup often and don't have any of my own. I use Mom's stuff. Just a little liner, some tan, natural-looking shadow, and a little mascara on the top lashes. I brush out my hair and take sections, running the hot iron slowly from the root to the end and then rolling up the bottom a bit. This is taking much longer than I remember. A dab of perfume, too, only enough so that no one can smell it but me.

  In my room, I search in my closet for something to wear. Let's see … Tobi gave me a dress a while back. Where is that thing? Heather navy, cotton, ultra-soft … There, on my shelf. It's cool-looking, a wrap with a wide navy blue, white, and gray belt. It goes down to the top of my calves. It’s more trendy than I am. Sitting on my bed, I quickly paint my toes and let them dry while I eat breakfast.

  My parents are sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee when I walk in. “Good morning.” My voice chirps like a bird singing. I glide to the cabinet for a glass while humming a tune to myself.

  “Well, good morning.” Mom turns in her chair on her second take of me. “You curled your hair.”

  Is that a question or a comment? I just shrug, “Yeah. What's for breakfast?”

  “Omelets. Can you get it yourself?” She stands with her coffee in hand to leave the room. “I need to finish getting ready.”

  “I can make an omelet.”

  She crosses the room to refill her cup and gives me a squeeze on the arm and a kiss on the cheek. “I'll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  Everything I need is already out. I crack two eggs and begin.

  “Regan?”

  “Yeah, Dad?”

  “Have you been considering other options for college?”

  Crap. He's going to bring that up now? “Uh, yeah, kind of.” I test the skillet to see if it’s warm enough and pour in the mixture.

  “What have you come up with?” He stares at me, taking a sip of his coffee. He's been writing notes or something. There's a pencil behind his ear.

  “I'm still working on it. I've been busy with volleyball, work, and friends lately.”

  “What colleges are you thinking about?”

  I sprinkle cheese in the middle of the omelet, fold it over, and look up at the table again. With a silent sigh, my heart sinks. He has the notebook I wrote in yesterday. It was still in my bag. Is nothing private around here? “There are hundreds of colleges out there. I need access to the internet to do some more research.” I sit down and giv
e thanks for my food and ask for help with my Dad this morning. “I see you've been in my bag.” I can’t help it. It comes out before I even take my first bite.

  “I see you've made a list of colleges, the closest of which is over one thousand miles away.”

  I don't comment, just continue eating my breakfast. “

  “Forty-thousand dollars is a lot of money for one year of college, Regan. We can't afford that kind of tuition.”

  “I know that.” I start to make a snarky comment about not being able to afford any tuition, but I change tactics knowing that will get me nowhere. Respectful, I need to come across as respectful. “I also know that I'm going to need to get scholarships, grants, and loans to attend any college, no matter how much the tuition is.”

  He presses his lips together and looks down at his coffee. He gives me a few moments of peace. “Did you draw this?”

  I want to sigh and roll my eyes and throw a fit for him getting into my stuff. But I can’t do that. If I stay quiet and don't answer he's going to think I'm hiding something. “Yeah, I was just messing around.”

  “I didn't know you like to draw. It's pretty good.” He seems surprised.

  “Well, I don't, really. That's the first time I've tried.” I continue my breakfast.

  “Who did you have in mind?” He drinks the last gulp of coffee down.

  “I don't know, a movie star, maybe. I was just doodling on my break.”

  “They seem familiar somehow.” He looks down at the page again for a moment and then walks toward the kitchen with his cup. “It doesn't matter what school you go to if you get a degree in something that’s not employable. You'll not only not have a job when you graduate, you'll have tuition loans to pay.” He rinses his coffee cup and sets it in the sink. “And how are you going to pay loans and bills when you aren't working? Choose a degree that has a broader scope, one that employers are interested in hiring.”