The Season of You & Me

by Robin Constantine

  “How about, no. Speaking of mauling . . . what happened? Why did you—”

  “Maul Wade after you told me not to?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know, Cass. Please . . . he just . . . I mean, look at him. He’s my first surfer dude.” She giggled.

  “I know, but . . .”

  “I wasn’t thinking. I’m a selfish bitch, okay? I miss Drew. I fucking miss Drew. And I hate what he said. And I try and be all tough about it, but I just don’t get why . . . why I’m not enough.”

  Hearing Emma say aloud the thoughts that I’d been torturing myself with for the past few months was eye-opening. It was such bullshit—of course we were enough.

  I sighed and sat on the edge of the chaise.

  “You are enough, Ems. More than that. Being that far apart from someone for so long is hard. Probably next to impossible to maintain.”

  “It just makes me sad. We were so happy, you know? Why does everything change so fast?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  Ems was able to stand by herself, but we walked arm in arm to the room. As I was about to slip my key in the door, my mother opened it and got an eyeful of us. She looked at Ems, then me, and sighed.

  “Get in.”

  When I woke up, Ems was still sleeping, facedown, diagonally on the bed. I pushed back the curtains and squinted. Mom was lounging by the pool in her yoga pants, cup of coffee in hand. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and went out to sit with her.

  “I didn’t expect to see you this early,” she said.

  “Eight o’clock is midmorning to me some days,” I said.

  “How is Emma?”

  “Sleeping.”

  She nodded, took a sip of her coffee. “Mm-hmm.”

  I sat in the chaise next to her. Took a deep breath of the ocean air. Gulls screeched. The sky was blue and endless. No clouds at all.

  I kissed Bryan last night.

  He was nowhere near, but I felt him all around. Can I see you tomorrow?

  “What time are you heading out?” I asked, hoping it didn’t sound too eager.

  “Checkout is noon. I’d like to grab some breakfast before we hit the road. I certainly think Ems could use it.”

  “Oh, that . . . are you going to tell her mom?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” she said. “I hope it was worth it.”

  “We could probably stop by Ocean Whispers and have breakfast.”

  “Or not.”

  I realized I hadn’t asked my mother how she really felt about Leslie being pregnant. I’d been so caught up in the excitement of her and Emma being here that we didn’t get the chance to talk about it.

  “Is it because of Dad and Leslie’s news?” I asked.

  She turned her head sharply to me. “No, not at all. Although, two little ones and a business to run is a lot to handle. I’m happy for them. Your father always wanted a big family.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “He did?”

  Mom nodded and took another sip of her coffee as if she hadn’t just revealed a piece of the puzzle I’d been pondering my whole life. This was news to me.

  “Was that why you split up?”

  “Part of it, I guess.”

  I let that nugget sink in—if my father wanted a big family, did that mean . . . ? “So wait, you didn’t want a big family?”

  She inhaled, kneaded the spot where her neck met her shoulder and sighed.

  “No. I didn’t. I don’t. One perfect kid is enough.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”

  “How do I explain it without sounding . . .” She paused, shifted in her seat to face me. Elbows resting on her knees, she held the coffee cup with both hands and traced the rim of the lid with her thumb as she spoke. “Marrying your father felt right at the time and we tried. I tried. And it worked for a while, but he wanted to have another baby, and I kept putting it off. Motherhood didn’t exactly come easy to me but I don’t regret it. I love being your mom. I know it sounds selfish—but I also love the freedom I have now. Not having to answer to anyone, keeping my house as I please. I’m happy. I know I might not be the best at this mother thing, I’m not exactly PTA material and I always order your birthday cake from the bakery, but you know, I try.”

  Hearing her acknowledge her choice was powerful. Nothing had really gone terribly wrong between my parents—it wasn’t that they couldn’t make it work. They both wanted different things. Separating had been the right thing to do.

  “You’re not that bad,” I said.

  She smiled. “See, perfect kid.”

  “So if that’s not it, why don’t you ever want to go there, Mom? You know, I checked the ledger. There was a vacancy this weekend.”

  “Cass, what if some couple came to town on a whim and stopped in? If I had taken that room it would be money out of your father’s pocket. Besides, I don’t want to make small talk with strangers. I’m not exactly a morning person.”

  “We wouldn’t have to, and . . . sometimes small talk with strangers isn’t so bad.”

  “Uh-oh, a few weeks down here and you’re a convert.”

  “I just . . . You and Dad, I mean, you’re not like enemies. You get along with Leslie, I don’t get why—”

  “It’s the couples, Cass. I know I just went on about loving my freedom, and I do, but where there are couples and small talk there are always questions about me being alone. And looks. I’d rather my breakfast not be that complicated.”

  “Oh.”

  “Maybe before the summer’s out, I’ll stay there, okay? Bring Nan as my date. Maybe when we come to pick you up.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She grabbed my hand. “For now, this is the only couple I need.”

  The moment Ems and Mom dropped me off at Ocean Whispers I called Bryan. I knew exactly what I wanted to do for our first . . . was it a date? Make-out sesh? I didn’t care about labels. I just wanted to spend time with him.

  He pulled up in front of Ocean Whispers at seven.

  “Hey,” he said as I slipped into the passenger seat.

  I leaned over and kissed him. Again, I’d intended it to be just a brush across his mouth, but it felt so new, different. Any time it felt like one of us was about to pull away, the other deepened the kiss again. We pulled apart, laughing.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Crescent Beach,” I said.

  “Crescent? Why?”

  “Well, Hunter asked me to find him some Crest Haven diamonds. And I want to see the sunset.”

  We drove with the windows down, the air rushing through the car, whipping my hair around. When we hit the road that went toward Crescent Beach, he pulled on the hand control and I watched as the speedometer went up sixty . . . seventy . . . eighty. I put a hand against the dash to brace myself as the road came faster and faster underneath us. Bryan’s face was joy. He howled before finally pushing forward on the brake. We slowed gradually until we came to the lot where I first met him. He pulled into a spot and cut the engine.

  “Do you want to go on the sand?” he asked.

  “Can you?”

  “I can try,” he said. “There’s a wooden path that goes past the dunes, then I could probably . . . let’s just say I have a way. It’s not pretty, but if the end result is sitting with you on the beach, then I’ll deal.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Once Bryan was in his chair, I grabbed the blanket from his backseat and we headed out to the sand. Halfway down the path, I had to push him. The beach was practically empty. The two old guys who’d been fishing the day I tossed my necklace into the waves were there again. A woman walked with her black lab. She threw a tennis ball into the water and he paddled out to retrieve it.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Well, find a spot for the blanket, not too far.”

  I kicked off my flip-flops and walked a few feet away. I fanned out the blanket and set it down on the sand.

>   Bryan eased himself off the chair and positioned himself so his back was facing me.

  “I told you, it’s not pretty,” he said, propping himself up on his hands. “I call this the butt scoot, and the only people who’ve seen me do it are my family, and now you.”

  I smiled. “I’m honored.”

  He moved backward, putting his hands back, then scooting his butt through. When he finally got to the blanket he collapsed flat, big grin on his face.

  “Okay, we’re staying here all night,” he said. I kissed him lightly on the mouth.

  “Here, give me a hand,” he said. I entwined my fingers through his and pulled him up. He fixed each leg into a very loose crisscross applesauce, then leaned back on his hands.

  “You’re okay sitting like this?” I asked.

  He smiled. “Yeah, for a bit anyway. One wheelchair perk is if there’s sand in my butt I won’t feel it, but I’ll have to do a longer skin check than usual, make sure it’s all out.”

  “Skin check?” I asked. I pulled my knees to my chest and faced him.

  He opened his mouth but stopped, turned his head to the side. “You sure you want to hear this?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “So has your butt ever gone numb from sitting too long?”

  I nodded.

  “Mine does too, only I can’t feel it. I don’t know if you’ve seen me sort of fidget during the day in my chair, or push up out of my seat for a bit? I need to make sure I don’t keep pressure in one area for too long—that can lead to skin breakdown. I have to sort of check myself with a special mirror to make sure nothing’s brewing, or in this case make sure I don’t have any sand in my butt. Probably not first date convo. . . . Sorry if it’s TMI.” He blushed a little, then laughed. I put my hand over his.

  “I can handle it, you know,” I said. He smiled.

  “You said you wanted to find a Crest Haven diamond? You might want to get one now before the sun goes down.”

  “Oh, yeah, Hunter. They’re by the water?”

  I got up, did a sweep, and found a few of the quartz pebbles along the water’s edge. I dried them off on the hem of my shirt and stuffed them into my pocket, then went back to the blanket. Bryan had his eyes closed, kind of like the blissed-out look he got when he floated in the pool.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked, plopping down. I scooted next to him so our shoulders touched.

  “You know, there’s another beach farther down that you can see the sunset better from; they have Crest Haven diamonds too. Why did you want to come here?” he asked.

  “I want a better memory here,” I said.

  “I can appreciate that,” he said.

  “That first night you saw me, I threw a necklace that Gavin gave me into the water, kind of a symbolic gesture of good riddance.”

  “You threw a necklace into the water?”

  “Yeah, and then I tried to get it back, but it was gone, and that’s why I was crying when you saw me. It all hit me—that I’d lost him, the necklace, that I left home for the summer and didn’t know anyone. I felt really alone. Then you asked me if something was wrong with my bike.”

  He laughed. “I couldn’t imagine why you were crying, but I thought you were a little too upset over your bike. I knew it had to be something bigger.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “My father said . . . this is where you had your accident, in the parking lot. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay, but I’d really like to know.”

  He took a breath. “I mostly don’t like to talk about it because it’s my own fault.”

  I put my hand over his again.

  “Nick went through a parkour phase and we used to kid him about it, because it looked so lame, you know. There was this parkour club at school, and it’s not like the kind you see on YouTube with people flipping off of buildings.”

  “I’ve seen some of that, looks insane.”

  “Right, but not what Nick was doing. This was real basic stuff, like hopping over parking meters, garbage cans, Dumpsters. So one night, we were hanging over on the far end of the parking lot, smoking pot, chilling, and Nick showed us this trick he was trying to perfect. He jumped between the Dumpsters, then flipped around a tree branch, like pulled himself over and landed upright. It didn’t look half bad, but we couldn’t tell him that, because that would be admitting he’d actually done something right. Then he dared me to try it. So I did. I jumped the Dumpsters, but when I reached for the tree branch my foot got caught and I fell. If I’d gone with it, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten hurt, or would’ve just smashed my face or something, but I tried to correct myself midflight and landed on my back.”

  “Did you know then?”

  “Yeah, I did. I knew it was bad. I felt sort of a crack and a zap, then nothing, and the guys were laughing, because it probably looked hysterical, you know, me flat out. We were all stoned, and it was kind of unreal. And, well, that was that.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I let his story sink in.

  “I thought you said it was nothing exciting,” I said, elbowing him.

  He laughed. “You know, it would have made an epic fail reel, if it didn’t turn out to be so . . . tragic, I guess.”

  “Bryan, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

  “Me too, but . . . I don’t feel tragic now, Cass. It’s taken me a while to say that, but I don’t. I mean, this is life, right? I’m sitting on the beach with a beautiful girl, must have done something right.”

  “Bry.”

  I leaned in to kiss him.

  “You’re going to miss the sunset,” he whispered.

  I turned, nestled against him. He slung an arm around me. The red wafer had barely kissed the water on the horizon line and painted the sky a dazzling orange that faded into periwinkle as it turned dusky.

  “Oh, wait,” I said, reaching for my phone, ready to take a picture.

  “Is this to show someone on StalkMe that you’re having the best time in the world without them?” His mouth was by my ear.

  “No, not really,” I said.

  He nuzzled my cheek. I turned to him.

  “Then how about just taking a picture here,” he said, gently touching the spot between my eyebrows.

  “I don’t get what you mean,” I said.

  He kissed the spot.

  “I mean, how about making this new, better memory just for you and me.”

  He took the phone out of my hand and placed it on the blanket. His hair tickled my cheek as he kissed my neck, then my earlobe. I closed my eyes, trying to commit it all to memory, the color of the sky, the purplish tint of the water, the sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore, the feeling of his lips against my skin. When he finally kissed me full-on, I didn’t need to see anymore because I felt it. The sun melted in my mouth and shot through my fingertips.

  TWENTY

  BRYAN

  SIP N’ FREEZE WAS PACKED. NICK WAS FINALLY christening his new slush flavor, the Bardot Shaka Blast. Even on a night crowded with tourists, he’d somehow commandeered five picnic tables on the side, set apart by fake tiki torches.

  Tori and Cass passed out slush samples to the people waiting in line, and Nick, who wore an “I’m Famous in New Jersey” tee and a crown lei, took pictures with anyone who asked. There was a rumor that the local paper was sending someone to do a story. Had to hand it to the guy, he was good at the mascot/front man thing.

  “I’m so glad they changed the name of that slush. There was no way in hell I was ordering a Nick Bardot,” Wade said. “Think she’ll ever get over the Emma thing? She’s been weird since the party. Civil, but weird.”

  “Did you even offer to help clean up?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I did. She wouldn’t let me in after you guys left. Then at camp it was like nothing ever happened—she didn’t say a word about it, all business.”

  “Dude, I don’t know, but you c
ould certainly step up your game—making her a picture with cereal wasn’t exactly a shining moment.”

  Wade clapped a hand over his eyes. “See, when it really matters, I suck at this.”

  Cass walked slowly toward us, carrying four small cups together in her hands. She intentionally bumped Tori and motioned for her to follow. Tori took two from her and they came over.

  Wade might have been down, but I was the fucking sun, moon, and stars as Cass sat on the end of the bench and placed the slush sample in front of me. She brushed her lips across mine, and we laced our fingers together. We’d become inseparable since we made our better memory at Crescent Beach. It was heaven.

  She pulled out her phone.

  “Why don’t we skip the scavenger hunt tonight,” I said.

  “C’mon, we can multi-task,” she said, smiling. I was toast. I’d do anything for that smile.

  “Fine,” I said.

  “I think the clue has to do with this place, listen. Choose this flavor, but don’t have it raw—a formidable opponent, might be a southpaw.”

  “What do you think?” Tori asked.

  “I think Mr. Beckett was bored out of his mind and purposely came up with something that no one could win,” Wade said.

  “Wait, read it again,” I said. Cass read it.

  “It’s an ice-cream flavor, don’t you think?” I said.

  “Yes!” Cass answered. “I’m going to take a picture of the menu board with the ice-cream flavors so we can go over them; be right back.” She shot up and practically mowed down Nick.

  “Oops, sorry,” she said as she continued toward the front of Sip N’ Freeze.

  “I’m so moving to their team.” Tori looked at Wade, who got suddenly quiet. He grabbed the slush sample and was about to drink it.

  “Dude, no, I have to make a toast,” Nick said.

  “It’s going to melt.”

  Nick looked at me. “Matty isn’t around. Did he say anything about when he and Jake were getting here?”

  “He didn’t mention a time. I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Nick, hello, you have to start, these slushes are melting,” Tori said. He grabbed one of the extra cups off the table, put his fingers in between his teeth, and whistled. Everyone looked at him. He moved into the center of the tables and stood up on one of the bench seats. Cass came back and snapped a picture of him before putting down the phone and picking up her sample cup.