The Season of You & Me

by Robin Constantine

  “I’ll think about it,” I whispered.

  “I love you, Cass.” The phone went silent.

  A rushing sound filled my head; there was laughter and yells. Hunter jumped up and down, wielding his unopened umbrella like a sword. I was instantly cold and wet. The sky had let loose but I was frozen in place. There I was, thinking I’d forgotten about Gavin. I had a new life, new friends, new job—a little protective bubble by the sea. How could one phone call unravel it? The mom with her two kids who stood in front of Hunter opened up a large black umbrella. She corralled him to come under cover, then waved at me. A raindrop dripped off my nose.

  I love you, Cass.

  I inched my way toward the woman; by the time I reached her I was drenched.

  She smiled. “I hope that was an important call.”

  She was younger close-up and had a friendly face. The kind of person you could unload your troubles on. I needed someone to tell me that everything was going to be okay. I needed Mom and Nan. I resisted the urge to spill my guts.

  “No, it wasn’t,” I said.

  My phone rang. Emma.

  I wasn’t falling for that again.

  By the time we reached the front of the line, I had several texts from someone who I could only assume was the real Ems.

  What a prick!

  Are you okay?

  I’m mad at you!

  How could you not tell me about Sugar Rush NATE!!!???

  Deetz!!!

  Crap. It was my turn to ghost her.

  After we got Hunter’s slush we moved to the side of the building where there was an overhang. It was a tight squeeze, but we managed. The rain didn’t look like it would ever let up.

  Call me.

  I couldn’t. Could I? What purpose would it serve?

  “I think my ’brella would cover us.”

  “Doubtful. It’ll let up soon.”

  A horn beeped, then the car flashed its high beams. Someone waved frantically, but I couldn’t see a face.

  “Is that for you?” the guy next to us asked.

  “No,” I said, but suddenly the door opened and a bright-blue umbrella fanned out as a person stepped from the car.

  Tori.

  “Do you want a ride?” she asked.

  “Yes!” Hunter declared.

  “Wait there,” she said, coming over. Hunter grabbed her hand. I followed. “No, stay, I’ll come back.”

  “It’s okay, I’m drenched already.”

  We walked to the car. She opened the rear door for Hunter, then reached in and handed me a bright-orange beach towel with tropical flowers on it. I wrapped it around my shoulders.

  “At least it’s something,” she said. “Get in.”

  She held the umbrella up over my head as I ducked into the front seat. The car was small and smelled faintly of stale smoke. A faded air freshener in the shape of a pineapple hung from the rearview mirror. A monster slush sat in the cup holder. This was definitely not Tori’s car.

  She climbed in, folded the umbrella, and tucked it in the well behind the front seat.

  “Are you buckled in, Hunter?”

  “Yep. I usually need a booster,” he said.

  “Buddy, special circumstances, okay? We’re only going a few blocks. You know where Ocean Whispers is?”

  Tori nodded as she put the car in reverse and guided us out of the spot with ease.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I pointed at the big cup. “You don’t seem like the gallon-of-slush type.”

  She laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Yeah, that’s for Nick. He’s finally going to give his slush a name; he’s throwing a party at Sip N’ Freeze and everything.”

  “Wait . . . his slush?”

  “You must be the only person he hasn’t told, then—they named a slush after him. Up until now it’s been called the Nick Bardot. Pineapple with a cinnamon swirl.”

  “He must like slush.”

  “There are four places you can find my brother these days. The cove, the rec center, our house, or Sip N’ Freeze. This mix was his favorite last summer. I think he ordered one every day.”

  “Well, that’s something, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, achievement unlocked.”

  “My favorite is blue raspberry,” Hunter said from the back.

  “Yeah, I can see that, Blue Lips,” Tori said.

  We pulled up to Ocean Whispers a few moments later. Dad was on the porch. I reached for the door handle.

  “Cass, wait, can we talk a minute?” Tori asked.

  “Um, sure. Hunter, will you tell Dad I’ll be, like, five minutes?”

  “Yep!” Hunter juggled the slush and his umbrella, pretty much a disaster waiting to happen. I watched as he teetered up the paved path to the front door. There were guests on the porch. Dad looked like he was talking to one of them and smiled when Hunter walked up the steps. He took the big cup from him and looked it over, shaking his head, but still smiling. I turned back to Tori.

  “So, what’s up?”

  “Cass, um, I know I haven’t been that . . . welcoming. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize to me.”

  “Yeah I do. I was kind of a jerk on the first day, and I haven’t been that much better since then. I miss Liv. And I was a little annoyed that I didn’t have a say in her replacement. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you though.”

  I appreciated the apology—would have probably felt the same way if I was in a similar situation with Emma—but I could feel a cry coming on and all I wanted to do was get upstairs to my room. “It’s fine. You really weren’t that bad.”

  “Yeah, I kind of was. I told you that Bryan was seeing Liv because I saw the way he . . . well . . . you’re just here for the summer, Cass. A summer girl. New. Different.”

  “Summer girl?”

  “You mean you haven’t heard Wade go on about tourist girls?”

  “I’m not really a tourist,” I said. At least I didn’t think of myself that way. Was that the way they thought of me?

  “No, you’re not; the point is, I told you Bryan was seeing someone because he likes you. You must know that, right?”

  “I like him too,” I said.

  “Yeah, but he likes you. I just don’t want to see him get hurt, he’s been through a lot—

  “He told me about Shay,” I said. “Even Liv.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes. Friends tell each other things.”

  “I’m sorry. I get a little protective sometimes. I thought Liv would be good for him, but you can’t really force something, you know? Just, be careful with him, that’s all.”

  Did she really think I’d do something to hurt Bryan?

  “Do you know why I’m here, Tori?”

  “What, like on the planet, or here in Crest Haven?”

  “I’m here because I broke up with a guy I want to forget,” I said, my voice cracking. That was all it took before my own flood started running down my face. I bowed my head and wiped the tears with the back of my hand. I felt weird in front of Tori, but I couldn’t stop it.

  “Cass, oh . . . hey,” she said. She leaned over and opened the glove compartment, rifling through it and muttering the word pig, which for some reason made me laugh. She handed me a black bandanna, but just as I was about to take it she pulled it away and flung it toward the backseat. She closed the glove compartment.

  “Ew, sorry, I shouldn’t have given that to you; it was ripe.”

  I laughed. “It’s fine.”

  “This should be okay,” she said, lifting a corner of the towel I still had wrapped around my shoulders. I wiped my face.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she said.

  “It’s not you, it’s Gavin . . . that’s my ex. . . . He called me when we were waiting in line, and it just, well, made me feel crappy all over again. Things were good—I hadn’t been thinking about him much at all, then bam, he calls. He misses me. He ho
oked up with some other girl, who pretty much flaunted it in my face, and now he misses me. I came here because he’s going off to school at the end of the summer, and I thought I’d never have to see him again. I think I left because I knew . . . I do still sort of care. That’s screwed up, isn’t it?”

  “He sounds like a jerk,” she said.

  A defense of Gavin popped into my head. Defense? Like I could call him a jerk, but she couldn’t because she didn’t really know him. I hated that that was my first response. Clearly I still had feelings for him. Feelings that putting a hundred miles between us hadn’t resolved. Crest Haven was like a beautiful illusion I’d created to distract myself. Pathetic.

  “I guess what I’m saying is—I respect your friendship with Bryan. I do. I’m not looking to hook up with anyone. It would be nice to go out once in a while though, with someone other than Hunter.”

  “You should hang out, Cass. You can call me too, you know—it doesn’t have to be all work, or scavenger hunts. Maybe we should just forget about these first few weeks and start fresh. Would you be my friend, Benny Barbie?”

  I laughed. “I hate that nickname.”

  “I’ve come to think of it as kind of an endearment. Even the benny part.”

  “Okay, friends.”

  “Also . . . I’m kind of stumped—I want to teach healthy breakfasts for class next week. All I’m finding is really boring stuff, and I figure since you live at a B-and-B you probably have access to cool recipes. Something for the tweens. Maybe a meal they could whip up themselves? I know it’s short notice, but—”

  “Yes, I’d love to.”

  “Great.”

  I got out of the car, pushed open the gate, and ran through the rain toward the porch. I was soaked so the attempt to get to cover faster was a bit silly. Breakfast. I could do that. That would be something to think about, to occupy my mind. Maybe Tori would include me in more of her plans if I came up with something good. Benny Barbie. I laughed at the nickname. I was back on track, the phone call forgotten.

  I love you, Cass.

  Okay, maybe not totally forgotten. But I would not call him.

  I love you, Cass.

  The words woke me.

  I sat up, looked around the room.

  They were only in my head, haunting me from my earlier call with Gavin.

  Still.

  There’s so much . . .

  What had he been about to say before Emma came in and interrupted him? There’s so much . . . what?

  I kept torturing myself with it.

  I’d plugged in my phone across the room to charge before going to bed. Hoping, once again, that my trick of out-of-sight, out-of-mind, across-the-room-seems-so-far-away-when-I’m-comfy-in-bed would work. I’d resisted, but now, with my room dark and everything so quiet . . . I love you, Cass.

  I wanted to talk to him.

  I didn’t want to talk to him.

  Only.

  I did.

  Why?

  Deep down, I did miss him. In spite of everything.

  The girl he worked with . . . Kaitlyn. It was easier to distance myself when I didn’t think of her name, or her, or when exactly whatever it was that happened between them happened. I never asked how she got the flask—I was too stunned when her friend came up to me, giggling and smirky, and handed it to me in front of school before first bell. I didn’t need specifics. I could see it in Gavin’s eyes when I gave the flask back to him. He hardly looked at me. Something happened. At work, after work, whenever. Not only had I been tagged in a picture of the flask on StalkMe, but a picture of him and Kaitlyn together from her account. Sure, they were side by side; nothing was going on in the photo but they were close, and the look on her face . . . the flashy smile, the way she leaned in, the way they leaned together. Was she the one who sent the Dimples card?

  He protested. Why would she tag you if anything had been going on?

  I didn’t know, but soon other people around school seemed to.

  I’d gone from being invisible to gossip fodder over a weekend, and I wasn’t even in the picture. It was torture, feeling that exposed when I’d done nothing. My private life suddenly public. And the question I was left with, the one I still hadn’t gotten a satisfying answer for, was Why? I wasn’t sure there’d ever be one. Gavin hadn’t gone to prom either, but shortly after, Emma told me he’d been hanging around with Kaitlyn again.

  And yet . . .

  He’d been lurking on my StalkMe account.

  He said he missed me.

  I’m not with that girl anymore. I never really was. . . .

  He’d be off to college before I got home. I wouldn’t see him again.

  He. Called. Me.

  I darted out of bed and grabbed my phone. Gavin’s number was still in my contacts.

  I stared at it.

  Then, before I lost my nerve or came to my senses, I called him. I walked over to the bed and flopped down, my hands clammy. One ring . . . then two . . .

  If it goes to voice mail, I’m taking it as a sign and won’t leave a message.

  He answered.

  “Cassidy.”

  “Hey,” I said.

  “You called.”

  “I did.”

  We were silent for a bit, breathing. I didn’t know what to say or where to start or if talking to him even made sense.

  “I’m sorry about before, Cass. Taking Emma’s phone, I just knew—”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You were right, I wouldn’t have answered. What were you about to say before Emma found you?”

  “Um . . .”

  “You said something like there’s so much . . . and then she came in. So much what?” I was insane; what did I think he was going to say? He didn’t even remember.

  “Oh, right. I miss our talks. You listened. I knew I could always count on you to help straighten things out in my head.”

  I rolled to my side.

  “I’m listening now,” I said.

  “How are you?”

  “I thought we were talking about what’s going on with you,” I said.

  “I’d rather talk about you. Why did you leave for the summer?”

  “Gavin.”

  “You could have said good-bye.”

  “I’m pretty sure I covered that when we broke up.”

  “Do you like it there?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Are you going to say more than single sentences to me, Cass?” There was humor in his voice. “C’mon, what have you been doing, what are you up to?”

  I told him about Hunter. Camp. The scavenger hunt. The cooking class with Tori. Little details, no specifics.

  “Have you met anyone?”

  Ha. Was this whole conversation just to ask that question? I thought about what Emma said—I imagined telling him I’d been with half of Crest Haven then hanging up, but I couldn’t lie.

  “I’ve met lots of people.”

  “I think you know what I mean.”

  “Gavin, what’s the point?”

  “C’mon, have you?”

  Bryan’s face popped into my thoughts. An unexpected rush warmed me. It was nice, but I wasn’t about to share my morning swims with Gavin.

  “No.”

  “I want to visit you.”

  I sat up again. “That’s an awful idea.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t have the time. And anything you have to say, you can say it now.”

  “I’d rather see you, talk to you in person.”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Cass, please, just think about it. We could hang out, do something fun. Remember how we used to talk about going to Ship Bottom? I’d love to go to the beach with you. See you for real in that blue bikini.”

  I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t feel good to hear that, that for a split second I saw us together on the beach, the way I used to imagine, but no, it could never be like that.

  “Good night, Gavin.” I pressed end before hearing his
reply.

  What can of worms had I opened?

  FOURTEEN

  BRYAN

  “IS IT JUST ME, OR IS THIS SONG DOUCHEY?”

  Field day had been rained out and postponed until the following Wednesday, which meant the whole day was unscheduled. Owen had been shuffling between our different groups, assigning us to various places—he’d had a contingency plan, but putting it into action was another thing.

  We’d been sent to the multipurpose room to learn the group song with the music director—a sophomore who could play piano—for camp showcase night. Every group was required to do something for the show, I guess to prove to the parents that their money was well spent. The six-to-sevens were assigned “Somewhere Out There.” Lesson learned: kids who thought they were going to spend the day at the beach did not enjoy learning show tunes. Not that I blamed them.

  And yeah, it was sort of douchey.

  On the upside, Wade and I had nothing to do but chill until Owen told us where to go next. We hung toward the back of the room, keeping an eye out in case we needed to step in, but the kids had settled down by the third run-through and it sounded more like a song than random screeching.

  “What do you want them to sing? ‘Black Parade’?” I asked, popping my chair and balancing.

  Wade laughed. “That would be something. Keep the parents awake.”

  Owen rushed into the multipurpose room, papers on his clipboard fanning as he made his way over to us. He gave a thumbs-up to the kids on stage before calling Wade and me over for what felt like a team huddle.

  “You guys are off to free swim next, then cooking after lunch, and we’ll probably end the day in here. Maybe a Monty dance party—that’s what we were going to do at the beach. The ice cream guy said he’d serve rain or shine, so there’s that too. We’ll deal with this. First rained-out field day in ten years.”

  “Monty was supposed to lead a dance party at the beach?” I asked.

  “Yeah, only for a little bit. It’s too hot for him to be in that costume for long. Have you seen Nick?”

  Wade and I shook our heads.

  “Well, be ready, Wade—if Nick’s a no-show, I nominate you to be Monty,” Owen said with a wink as he left.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Wade called. “Mr. Beckett?”

  “Relax, Nick loves the Monty thing. He’s here somewhere,” I said.